“But this existential stuff is harder to take at face value.”
“I get it. If you didn’t grow up with it, it sounds like some multi-level marketing scheme.”
“Finally, someone acknowledges it! Thank you,” I gesture, sitting in my own chair.
“You’re welcome,” he nods, lips twisting as he tries to hold back a grin.
“Oh shut up,” I mutter, and he chuckles.
“So, you gonna celebrate Samhain like all the other witches?” I groan and rest my head against the desk.
“I wasn’t going to,” I mumble into the worn surface, “but then some girls—well, I guess they’re my friends now? They took me dress shopping and said they’d never forgive me if I didn’t wear it.”
“Yeah? What are you going as?”
I look up from the desk and raise my eyebrow. “Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of wearing a costume if I tell you what it is beforehand?”
“I wasn’t planning on going either.”
“Why not?”
“You mean aside from the urge to burn everything down?”
“Listen, as long as you spare the Library.”
“As you wish,” his voice deepens into that menacing, sibilant growl that I now realize is his dragon. He shakes his head and grimaces. “Sorry.”
“Well… so long as the Library’s safe.” I sigh, and then we’re both smiling again.
“I guess if you’re going, it can’t be all bad.”
My stomach twists and oh my God… is he flirting with me? Am I flirting? Holy shit.
“Okay then, everything can go except for the Library and the Great Hall.”
He reaches out from across the table for me to shake. “Deal.”
“So, what will you go as?”
“I guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”
“This was a mistake.”
“Oh calm down.”
“When has telling a woman to ‘calm down’ ever worked in the history of ever?” I snap back at Brynne as she adjusts the train of my cape.
A fucking cape. Still can’t believe it.
“Relax, then, for Fate’s sake,” Tori says as she carefully lines her lips with a purple-ish lipstick in the mirror next to me. “It’s just a party.”
“This is my worst nightmare,” I mutter as I fidget. The dress is, impossibly, even more stunning than it was at Lisette’s shop. Whatever Maeve did to it is no less than magic. The nude mesh and black velvet hug my body like a second skin, and if it weren’t for the cape I’d feel completely naked.
I don’t know who I am in this dress. Certainly not Nyx Byrke, the abandoned baby found in a rent-by-the-hour motel in bumfuck Lynden. Not Nyx Byrke, to-be-determined witch.
I guess we’ll find out.
The Great Hall has been transformed when we arrive, walking up the marble steps like some sort of fairy tale. Except this is more like the Monster Mash instead of Cinderella. From the shadow of my hood, the dark opulence of the room glitters in the darkness as more and more students file in. I recognize a few despite their masks as I scan the room. Brandt is nearthe head table, talking with Headmaster Church and some other members of the faculty. Tori loops her arm around mine and ushers me through the throng of costumed students, while Brynne grabs a drink off a catering server and hands it to me.
