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By the following evening, my apartment looked as though a costume designer had suffered a particularly glamorous breakdown.

A curling iron occupied the bathroom counter beside half a dozen makeup brushes, several hairpins, and a scattering of gold ribbon. My bedroom held an open makeup case, a discarded pair of stockings, and the empty garment bag that had protected my costume for the past month.

Taryn stood in front of my full-length mirror wearing a fitted black velvet dress with deep purple accents, dramatic sleeves, and high-heeled boots. A wide-brimmed witch's hat sat at a carefully calculated angle over her sleek bob, while silver jewelry glittered against her throat.

"You look incredible," I told her.

"So do you. Now turn around and let me see the back."

I obliged, lifting my arms slightly so she could inspect the small feather wings attached to my dress.

The ivory satin hugged my curves, its structured bodice emphasizing my waist before falling into a softly flowing skirt that brushed my knees. Fine gold embroidery traced the neckline and bodice, catching the light with every movement. The sweetheart neckline was low enough to be interesting without requiring constant adjustment, and the fitted fabric made the most of my hips and breasts.

I'd never been particularly interested in hiding my figure, but this dress made me appreciate it all over again.

My long honey-golden hair fell in soft waves down my back, and I'd added a delicate gold halo that rested just above my head. An ornate half mask in ivory and gold completed the costume, leaving my mouth and the lower half of my face exposed.

Taryn adjusted one of the wings.

"There. Perfect."

I turned back toward the mirror.

The combination of golden hair, pale satin, and white feathers made me look like a particularly expensive Christmas ornament.

A very sexy Christmas ornament.

"Do I look ridiculous?" I asked.

"Not remotely. You look like an angel who knows exactly how good she looks."

"That's probably not the effect angels are supposed to have."

"Then it's fortunate we're going to a Halloween party instead of church."

I laughed and picked up my little gold evening bag.

We'd eaten an early dinner at my apartment, a simple meal of roasted chicken, vegetables, and warm bread from the bakery down the street. Taryn had brought dessert, although we'd been too busy getting ready to finish it.

Outside, the evening had turned chilly. The smell of salt water drifted up from the harbor, mingling with woodsmoke from nearby chimneys and the damp, earthy scent of fallen leaves. Our rideshare arrived beneath the streetlamp outside my building, and we hurried across the sidewalk, gathering our skirts to keep them clear of the curb.

The driver complimented our costumes as we climbed into the back seat.

"Going to the Grand?" he asked.

"How did you guess?" Taryn replied.

"I've been taking people there all evening. Never seen so many feathers and horns in my life."

I smiled as I settled against the leather seat, grateful for the warmth.

The drive through Witch Harbor took longer than usual. Halloween brought thousands of visitors into the historic district, and the narrow streets were crowded with pedestrians moving between restaurants, bars, ghost tours, and parties.

Carved pumpkins glowed on stone steps outside old merchant houses. Orange and purple lights twined through wrought-iron fences, while storefront windows displayed antique masks, witches' hats, and elaborate arrangements of autumn flowers.

A group dressed as pirates crossed in front of our car, laughing as one of them tried to keep his enormous feathered hat from blowing away.