“The Devil overmuch talks in the third person,” Olivy says, “but if he refuses to carry out the spell, then he’ll be stuck in Wayward Bay for the rest of his life. Which won’t be that long, since he’ll also become a mortal anddie, so we’ve got that to look forward to.”
“Olivy!” I gasp, guilt blazing through my gut.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. I added in the dying part to drive the point home. But the stuck in WB as a mortal guy part is true. Which means hewilldie. Eventually.”
“Amortal? Inthistown?” He scowls, pressing a hand to his heart. “A fate worse than death. You probably don’t even have a proper airport.”
“There’s a bus depot,” I add helpfully.
“Oh for fuck’s…No. This won’t do. If you and I are to be handcuffed together—not in the fun way, wasted opportunity if ever there was one—then you’re just going to have to come home with me.”
“Home, as in…” I swallow hard. “Hell?”
“Worse than that, I’m afraid.” He grins again, cold and calculating, far too tempting, reminding me of his namesake Tarot card. “California.”
“Hate to burst your bubble again,” Olivy chimes in, even though the smile twitching at the corner of her mouth tells me she’s really enjoying all this bubble-bursting, “but you two can’t leave the Bay. Not until the task is complete and the spell is broken.”
“Guess again, Creepy. You say we’re bound? Fine. We’re bound. To eachother. That doesn’t mean we’re stuck here withyou.” The Devil grabs my hand and gets to his feet, hauling me up with him. Then he lifts his other arm, drawing a complicated sigil in the air. Magic sparks faintly, but nothing happens.
He tries two more times. Whatever he’s attempting, it doesn’t seem to be catching.
“Can’t get it up, hellspawn?” Olivy asks. “Pretty sure they make a pill for that.”
“Pretty sure Iinventedthat pill.” He drops my hand and tries again, double-fisting it this time. Still, no dice. “Why isn’t my portal magic working? My intention is to bring her with me. Still bound, still enlisted in Operation Heart’s Desire. It shouldn’t matter where the desire-unlocking happens.”
Olivy sighs. “One more time for the folks in the back. The spell Violet cast was an insanely powerful one. It summoned you to Wayward Bay, bound you to her, and wrapped it all up with a wishes-really-do-come-true bow. The wish being her desire to wipe out her debt and save Kettle and Cauldron, which is also the location where the binding spell was cast. So until that happens, I’m afraid you two crazy kids are stuck. Here. Together.” She grins at him, her eyes shining. “Welcome to Wayward Bay, Horns. Try not to blow anything up while you’re here.”
Chapter Eight
DEVLIN
I storm out the café door and onto the rain-slicked sidewalk, where—like a swift kick to the nether regions—I’m immediately confronted by the painful reality of my situation.
A three-part awakening, if you will.
One, I have no cell phone. Must’ve dropped it when the witch zapped me from my study.
Two, I have no pants, and it’s bloody cold here, the rain and late hour not helping in that department.
Three, perhaps most tragic of all, this charming greeting card of a town has recently suffered a senseless attack from a roving band of Fall Vibes vigilantes, who’ve vomited upon every storefront and residential window a nauseating mix of twinkle lights, faux autumn leaves, and your basic Spooky Halloween Starter pack of rubber bats, plastic spiders, and tissue-paper ghosts.
Superb. Not only am I bound to the most annoying witch this side of the veil, but I’m stuck in Pumpkinville.
“Wait up!” Mushroom follows me outside, leaving ol’ Caped and Creepy behind, probably to whip up a batch of poison apples for the local schoolchildren. How these two are sisters is a mystery—one I have no interest in solving.
Right now, my only interest lies in procuring copious amounts of alcohol and a suitable pair of pants. Prime directive.
Most of the shops look buttoned up for the night, but I spy a golden light shining like a beacon a couple of blocks down and head off in that direction. Hope springs fucking eternal.
My newly acquired shadow is right on my heels. “Where are you going?”
“To find a purveyor of wine and spirits that caters to someoneotherthan a coven of barely legal sorority sisters who shouldneverbe allowed to practice magic under the influence. Or practice magic at all, really, given the apparent carelessness with which you bandy about your spells. Does the goddess Hecate know what you lot are up to? In my day, she had laws governing this sort of thing. With appropriate magical punishments, eternal damnation being a perennial favorite.”
Violet stops dead in her tracks. “Eternal damnation?”
Ignoring her, I keep walking. And fuming. And walking some more. Only to slam into an invisible wall and be yanked backward by an equally invisible leash.
Ah. So the whole “bound together” bit is literal, then. Well. The hits just keep on coming!
