Chapters (39)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Epilogue
- Excerpt from Boss Witch
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“Sounds good to me.” Dante came out of the kitchen, seeming glad the drama was over.
With some faint tension lingering, they all settled in front of the TV with beer and chips. Trev noticed Titus kept stealing glances in his direction, and finally, Trev mumbled, “What?”
“Are we really good?” Titus asked.
“Yeah. Well. We will be. I messed up by not telling you about my wedding. You made the wrong call with Sarah. It’s—”
“You’re both messy,” Dante cut in.
Titus laughed first, then Trev joined in. At least it felt okay hanging out with the guys. The game didn’t really register; he kept thinking about Leanne’s face, wounded and stricken. Would she look like that if she didn’t care at all?
Did I make a huge mistake? Well, it’s definitely not my first.
Chapter 26
Leanne had never felt less like celebrating.
But the other witches had done their usual incredible work with setting up the winter solstice. The field was magical after a fresh snowfall, with fairy lights shining through polished ice. Vanessa stuck close to her side, adorable in a cherry-red puffy coat with a fuzzy white hat and matching gloves. She looped her arm through Leanne’s and guided her to the stall where they were selling mulled wine, rich with cinnamon and cloves.
“Gorgeous. This is the best time of year to be a witch,” Vanessa said, after a long, luxuriant sip.
“You say that no matter what rite we’re celebrating.”
“That’s true. It’s good to be a witch. Period.”
Leanne tried to smile, but she couldn’t make her face cooperate. Instead, she glanced away, admiring the outdoor skating rink that had appeared by magic and would be no more than a damp patch in the dirt come morning. Witches glided hand in hand, bundled against the cold, and it would have looked like a Norman Rockwell painting, except there were no sparkling illusions in those pictures, with magic cascading in golden sparks.
“Do you ever wish things were different?” Leanne asked.
“I mean, yeah, obviously. Every time I go to the freezer and find I’m out of mint chocolate chip ice cream. But besides that, uh, what things?”
“Do you wish we could join the modern world? Come out, so to speak.”
“Wow. I don’t know. Sometimes when I’m dating a really fine mundane, I wish I could tell them what’s what. But I don’t know…”
“How well it would go?”
Vanessa nodded, eyes locked on distant fun. “Being Black and a known witch? I don’t know. But enough of that. Let’s find the party! And if we can’t find it, we’ll start it.”
Dammit, I actually want to talk about this, it’s—
Important.