Nox seems hurt. "Zeke is smart and sarcastic, and he doesn’t wear glitter. He builds actual things, like bikes, and he loves cats. You love animals… He’s basically your soulmate."
Both Nox and I notice Zilla’s cheeks turning a bright red.
I remember the graveyard party like it happened yesterday. The air had been crisp, scented with bonfire smoke and alcohol. Tombstones were decorated with fairy lights, giving it an enchanted appearance- as if the dead were hosting a masquerade instead of a party. The eerie charm and the ingredient list of my spell weren’t what stuck with me most; it was Zilla. I’d seen her standing near the old angel statue with Zeke, her eyes locked on him. He was telling her some ridiculous story, with the usual crooked grin on his face. His hands were flying as if he was conducting some kind of symphony of chaos. Zilla had laughed; not her usual sharp and sarcastic laugh, but something softer, warmer.
I had watched her tilt her head, her eyes glinting with curiosity and something else—something magnetic. Zeke had noticed it too, his voice faltering for half a second—he smiled at her as if he found the punchline to a joke only they understood. There was a rhythm to it, a pull, like orbiting each other without meaning to.
I hadn’t said anything at the time, but I’d felt it. That quiet spark. The kind that doesn’t need fireworks to be real. Like me and Nox.
"He’s a vampire," she says and walks away from the window.
"The elf’s a special edition winter Barbie. A very hard choice indeed." Nox laughs at his own remark and leaves the shop to start his bike. I watch his every move. Snowflakes drift lazily through the air, catching in his dark hair and melting on theshoulders of his black hoodie. He looks like something out of a dream—half rebel, half storm.
The bike growls to life beneath him, its engine coughing once before settling into a low, hungry purr. Nox leans forward, one boot planted in the snow, the others resting on the pedal like he’s taming a beast. The red glow of the rear lamp lights the surrounding mist, casting long shadows that dance across the driveway. I can’t look away. There is something magnetic about the way he moves—it’s confident and precise, like the cold can’t touch him. His breath curls in the air and, for a second, he turns his head towards the shop. Our eyes meet through the glass. He smiles at me and I poke out my tongue at him. It is the kind of look that makes my heart stutter. The kind that freezes me in place and melts every inch of me for him.
"I got barked at, yelled at and someone is haunting me." The elf enters the shop. "And a skeleton stole my glove. What is he doing outside?" The elf bursts inside, trailing in snow and glitter. His coat flares dramatically behind him and his cheeks are flushed with excitement or frostbite. I can’t tell.
"Where’s the sleigh?" he asks, already sensing something is off.
I smile. "Nox is taking the bike."
The elf freezes. "His BIKE?" he shrieks, voice cracking like ice.
I raise an eyebrow, laugh escaping my mouth. "I hope you didn’t think he’d use an actual sleigh."
The elf blinks. "Wait… what?"
I cross my arms. "He’s not exactly the sleigh-and-jingle-bell type."
The elf’s jaw drops. "But… but the reindeer union! The sleigh protocol!"
I pat his shoulder and laugh… Nox won’t use his bike to deliver the gifts; we’re just keeping the elf on his heels.Muhaha.I walk to the back of the shop, the elf following me. He hesitates at the threshold. "Why does this look like a haunted dollhouse?"
I don’t answer. My eyes are locked on the center of the back room, where Zilla arranged a circle of half-melted gumdrop candles. My purple Ouija board lays in the center, its letters etched in crystallized sugar.
I step forward. "I’m ready to ask." I kneel down, in the middle of the circle.
"This violates at least seven candy shop safety codes."
"Shut it and sit!" Nox steps forward, his boots silent against the sticky floor. He gives the elf an angry look and crouches, his gaze locked on mine. The candlelight catches the edge of his face, making his expression softer than usual.
"You sure you’re gonna be okay?" he asks quietly, voice low enough that only I can hear him.
I kiss him and I reach out to brush his fingers. "I’ll be fine." Nox nods. He stays close, just outside the circle, ready to pull me back if the spirits get too loud, too scary and too real.
The planchette twitches.
The ghosts are ready.
Chapter 20
NOX
Istand just outside the circle of candles, and I notice the sugary scent of the shop has mixed with something colder, something older. Neo’s candy shop looks like Halloween crashed into a gingerbread house. The Ouija board sits in the center, pulsing faintly with spectral energy, with Neo kneeling before it like a warrior preparing for battle.
She looks calm, too calm.
Her fingers rest lightly on the heart-shaped planchette, her eyes locked on the letters. The flames dance across her face, casting shadows that make her look both fierce and fragile. And for a moment, I forget to breathe.
