Sienna lights up. “Nannan! Grandad!” She barrels into May’s arms, the older woman crouching to sweep her into a hug that leaves both of them giggling.
“Look at you,” May coos, brushing a bit of glitter from Sienna’s cheek. “The prettiest princess in the room.” She uses the witch’s broom in her hand like a walking stick to hoist herself back to a standing position.
“Daddy got his face painted too,” Sienna says, tugging Harold’s hand and pointing straight at me.
Harold chuckles, eyes crinkling. “Well, I’ll be damned. A dragon, huh?”
“The lads got one look at my tattoo a few weeks back and now I’m dragon boy,” I mutter, though my smile gives me away. I kinda like it.
Sienna bounces on her toes. “Can we do apple bobbing, Nannan?”
“Of course we can.” May smiles at me. “We’ll take her, give you a breather.”
“Thanks.” They don’t know how much that means. Or maybe they do. They’ve been begging me to move here since the day we lost their daughter. They even came to England for a while to help out with the funeral and Sienna and everything else when I was lost in my grief, stepping in whenever I faltered. I don’t know what I’d do without them.
I watch Sienna tug them towards the stall, her golden skirt flashing under the string lights, her laughter ringing through the hall. My chest tightens with pride and a pinch of guilt, because I can’t stop thinking about the pumpkin at the face-painting table.
“Nice look, Draco.”
I pivot to find Phoenix, Bear, and Hollywood strolling up with paper cups of cider, grins plastered on their faces.
“Shut it.”
“Green suits you,” Hollywood says, teeth flashing. “It’s giving Shrek.”
“More like Puff the Magic Dragon,” Bear rumbles.
Phoenix smirks. “Nah. He looks like he lost a fight with a leprechaun.”
I groan, dragging a hand over my painted cheek. “You lot done?”
“Not even close.” Phoenix claps me on the shoulder. “Chief’s gonna piss himself when he sees you like this.”
I glance across the hall, where Ember is still fussing with brushes and glitter, her pumpkin stalk bobbing every time she bends down.
My lips twitch. “Worth it,” I mutter, eyes still on the pumpkin across the hall.
The lads follow my gaze, grins spreading like wildfire.
“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Hollywood says, raising his cider cup in mock salute.
“Fun for who?” The deep voice comes from behind me, impossible to ignore. The hairs on my neck prickle as Chief Sparks steps into our circle.
Conversations around us dip. Even at a fundraiser, the man carries the kind of weight that makes people straighten their backs. His salt-and-pepper beard twitches as his mouth curves into the faintest smirk.
Bear tries and fails to stifle a laugh. “Evening, Chief. You seen Draco’s new look?”
Phoenix elbows me. “Show him the flames, mate. Left cheek.”
I grit my teeth, but there’s no way out. Chief’s eyes narrow, and I turn my head just enough for him to take in the full effect of the glittery flames fanning my cheek.
A beat of silence. Then his low chuckle rolls out, surprising all of us. He points his finger at my face. “That’s not a dragon, that’s Barney after a bad night.”
The table of lads erupts. Hollywood bends over in laughter.
I huff out of my nostrils and fold my arms over my padded chest in the green furry costume.
“Careful, boys.” Chief snorts. “Don’t laugh too hard, he might huff and puff and glitter you to death.”
