Poof!
She was gone.
A shiver ran down my spine, but I knew nothing Atlas could put together would hurt me. He’d already said the evening would be unlike any other Halloween event of the past, and he did love theatrics. I reached up for a sleek black apple, turning it over in my palm. It was smooth, the outside polished to such a shine that I saw my reflection on its skin. I looked so like and unlike myself… Saros’s evergreen irises peered at me over my shoulder. Stepping closer, he reached above my head, and I stilled at the brush of his chest against my back.
Pulling down a small bowl with thick purple soup swirling inside, he sniffed it, wriggling his nose. “Purple carrot soup?”
“My favorite!” Lynx said, and his faux husband handed over the bowl, billowing lavender smoke rising from its lip.
“Go ahead,” Saros directed him, and without another word, Lynx chugged it down.
Poof!
He was gone.
As I brought the apple to my lips, Saros gripped around my waist, taking me by surprise. He held me tight, like the idea of me disappearing set him on edge. Quickly grabbing a green vial from above, he brought it to his lips but didn’t drink.
Instead he waited, watching me.
My teeth pierced the apple’s onyx skin, its usual burst of tartness tinged with something magical. Bubbles flitted across my tongue, then my vision began to spin. I shut my eyes, not wanting to become ill.
I held onto Saros to steady myself until the world felt like it had stopped moving, but when I opened my eyes, I was clutching the arm of a man who definitely wasn’t Saros.
Aqua irises peered through the slits of a silver wolf mask, Atlas’s smooth voice coming into focus. “You didn’t really think you could tell me you still love me and just run away again, did you?”
Chapter18
Oakley
Atlas’s chest heaved, looking somehow more feral than the silvery wolf depicted on his mask.
“Please.” I looked up at him, body shaking while I clutched the bench I sat on. I was in the dining room of his house, half the walls around us composed of glass. “Stop making this so hard for me.”
“Did you or did you not say you still love me?”
“I did,” I replied, distracted by the fog whirling above the yard. Was that where the party was taking place? I hurried over to the glass, trying to find the others. “How did I end up here?”
Crowds of witches wandered through a rosebush maze, the same fog that had called us to the party blanketing it. When it thinned in spots, I could make out those below, but many areas were completely obscured. Private coves with sleek lounge chairs and various installations ranging from cages to leather swings to St. Andrew’s crosses were strewn throughout.
A witch with platinum hair in a horned mask was strapped by her wrists and ankles to the ends of the leatherX. Knelt before her was Sage Harlow in her unicorn mask, horn pressed between the witch’s thighs. Another witch held a deep-plum candle, an assortment of them lit on the table set on the opposite side of the cove, dripping wax down the trapped witch’s shoulders. She shook against the restraints and then vanished—the fog blocking them from view.
Another spot opened within the thick blanket, showing Hazel, who’d already discarded her blazer, chatting with some neighbors and toasting with bubbling shots. When one of them turned, I stared in shock, looking at myself.
No wonder my sister wasn’t concerned that I hadn’t shown up at the party.
“You illusioned me there?” I asked, annoyed at his forethought. “Where are Lynx and Saros?”
“A temporary fix to be able to talk to you.” Atlas’s chest pressed into my back, and my hands shot out, bracing the cool glass. “And they are fine. Just enjoying the party with everyone else. This isn’t aboutthem. This is aboutus.” His whisper curled into my ear like a sensual secret, the bulge in his trousers semisolid against my ass through the thin layers of tulle.
The glass dimmed to the house’s privacy setting, its chill dissipating. My breaths became shallow, ensnared by his presence, the thud of my heartbeat amplifying at the knowledge that we were truly alone together for the first time in months.
It was something I’d been avoiding. A gravitational pull I’d tried my best to ignore for both our sakes.
With a snap of his fingers, projections of the boudoir shots reflected off the dark walls of his backyard maze, Full Moon Emporium’s logo marking the spaces between. It was beautiful, mesmerizing. When the logo went away, an address popped up on the screen. The one for the space at Mystic Square.
“What the fuck? We didn’t walk through the space.”
His reflection frowned, obviously expecting a different sort of reaction. “I looked it over and video chatted with Hazel for approval.”
