Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

“Hmm,” Ramona mused. “Now that is a very interesting question. But I think I’ve told you enough.” She looked at Iris. “Unless you would like to trade for another kiss?”

By the goddess, Iris took a step forward, but I intervened. “Nope! That is enough questions for tonight, thanks, Ramona.”

I grabbed Iris’s elbow with one hand and Harlow’s with the other and steered everyone away like a mother dragging her children out of a candy store.

“Looking forward to that date,” Ramona called as I pulled Iris into the night.

After dropping Harlow off in front of the café, Iris, Lou, and I made our way back home. Harlow and I would be seeing each other again soon, but we needed to confront the vampires about this alliance, and taking a willing human into the vampire’s lair was a no-go.

“We should go now,” Iris said as soon as we were out of earshot of Harlow. “Before Ramona has a chance to warn them that we’re on to them.”

I linked my arms with her and pulled her in close. “She could have literally materialized into one of their coffins within seconds of us leaving. And we aren’t prepared for that.”

“Do you really think my death was part of the vampires’ plans,” Lou contemplated on my other side. “It’s been a year. What would they have been waiting for?”

“I don’t know if you were part of this, but I think we gave Ramona exactly what she wanted either way.” I nudged Iris, her face suddenly redder than before.

“Stop talking about me when I can only hear one half of the argument,” Iris said. “I did what I had to for Lou and for you.”

I knew she did, but part of me wondered if there wasn’t a small part of her that was curious about the demon who clearly had a soft spot in hell for her. Who wouldn’t be curious about what a date with a demon would be like, right?

This whole thing was a mess and getting messier by the second.

We got up to the apartment and went our separate ways. Lou had taken to haunting the living room by night. She was keeping Ichabod company at least. I flung myself down on my bed to pull the blankets up to my chin and stare up to the ceiling. I let fantasies of Harlow and me together push the dread from my gut and put me to sleep.

21

HARLOW

It was midmorning and I had already had a big win for the day: I’d opened the café all by myself.

Willow had woken up with an uncharacteristic headache, and I had ordered her back to bed to get another hour’s sleep before the morning rush. The fact that she’d even let me attempt to open the café was a big sign that she was beginning to trust me. . . or she was truly feeling awful.

A rap at the back door had me checking the old black and silver clock ticking beside the drinks menu.

“Right on time,” I said, sashaying to the back door and opening the roller blind.

I must have forgotten to unlock the door when I opened. Wyatt offered me a lopsided grin and lifted the box of morning treats in his hand. I undid the three locks and flipped over the protection ward that the witches had gifted Willow when she’d moved to town. It had felt a little overkill when I’d first moved here, but now hearing about the alliance between the creatures of Maple Hollow, I was starting to think it was a good idea.

I held the door open for Wyatt, and he breezed in, his puppy-dog personality dampening a bit when he didn’t see Willow.

“She’s having a sleep-in,” I said before he asked.

“Who?” Wyatt set the box on the counter. “You can’t be talking about Willow.”

“She’s letting me open the shop,” I said. “She has a headache.”

Wyatt instinctively looked to the door that led up to her bedroom. I wondered if he’d ever been up there. He sniffed the air, his eyebrows pinching together in concern. “Yeah.” He worried his bottom lip with his elongated canine. “She’s sick.”

“You can smell that she’s sick?” The thought made me cringe. What else could he smell? I did a quick pit check, and Wyatt chuckled.

“I can’t smell you—that much,” he amended. “I’m tuned in to her scent.”

“You’re tuned in to her scent?” I balked, eyeing him up and down. “What the fuck does that mean?”

He gulped like he’d just spilled some big secret and quickly whirled to the box of treats. “Here are the cauldron macarons.” He waved a hand down a row of treats.

“Very subtle deflection,” I muttered, though my mouth watered just looking at them. “I want to eat all of them.”