“Do you have to get back to school right away, or can you stay tonight?” Ben asked. “We can do it up right, light the fire pit and everything.”
Heather couldn’t just accept the invitation. She had to play her cards right in order to make it happen. “I don’t know,” she said slowly, as if taking time to consider his offer. “I didn’t bring anything, and I didn’t really dress to stay…”
“It’s Saturday! And there are clothes at the lodge. Come on, Mrs. Hayden, what do you say? Can Heather stay?”
Mrs. Hayden sighed. “As it will probably take that long to finishing this fitting…fine.”
Heather and Ben exchanged smiles. The Brighton boys usually got what they wanted, and this time was no exception. But some small part of Heather wished it had been her sister who’d wanted her to stay with such enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Mother,” she said on the way back to the dressing room.
Heather handed the next dress to Emily as she unclasped her choker. As soon as it was gone, she felt more naked than she had without the dress on. The necklace might have been technically useless as a talisman, but Heather wasn’t yet strong enough to face her family without it. She wrapped it around her wrist instead, holding her arm out for Emily to secure the clasp.
By the time Heather emerged in the sea foam green dress, Bright was sitting in the lounge with his own glass of champagne. “I hear we’re waiting for you to model the perfect dress so the groomsmen can match you,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “No pressure.”
“The next two are better,” Heather whispered in his ear. “This one is—”
“Sort of mermaid-y,” said Taylor. “What do you think, Mother?”
“Washes out her complexion,” Mrs. Hayden announced. “Onward, Heather.”
“Really quickly though, Bright, I have to ask you something.” Bright was easily the smartest person she knew, apart from Professor Blake, and Heather wanted to catch him before he was shuffled off to his own fitting. “Do you know what a bellwether is?”
“A trendsetter,” Ben answered for him.
“Sweetheart,” said Taylor. “Did you transfer over to the fashion desk and not tell me?”
“As thrilled as I know you’d be by that prospect, my dear…no.” Ben gave his fiancée a quick kiss. It was so incredibly sweet that it made Heather jealous down to her toes. She wanted to be the reason someone smiled like that. A real smile, triggered by actual happiness.
“‘Bellwether’ is used a lot in politics,” Ben explained. “A bellwether state is one whose outcome often predicts how the rest of the country will vote. The term originates in farming, if I remember correctly: the bellwether is the lead sheep in a flock.” He turned back to Heather. “Is that where you heard it? Government class?”
“Yes.” The lie slid easily off her tongue. Lying to her family was like riding a broom. And now was not the time to admit that the voice inside her head had a stellar vocabulary. “It confused me a little. But I was sure one of you gentlemen knew what it meant.”
“Are you having a tough time?” Of course kind, gentle Ben would ask her such a question. “Do you need me to help you with your schoolwork? I remember my own Harmswood days. Some of those classes were pure torture.”
Nothing compared to Hayden family reunions, said the voice.
Heather couldn’t argue with that.
“I can handle it,” Heather said with a shrug. “I’m more worried about Consumer Magics this semester, if you can believe that!”
She had expected them to laugh—not her mother and sister, but Bright, at least, or Ben.
“She’s kidding,” said Taylor. “Consumer Magics is the easiest A on the planet.”
Oh, Heather, why did you have to open your mouth? But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Our regular teacher has been replaced by this nutball sub. She came in and gave us all a bunch of weirdo projects and paired us up with the most horrible…”
Heather let her rant trail off into nothing. She sounded ridiculous, even to herself.
Mrs. Hayden set her champagne flute on the table next to the settee. “If you’re having trouble in school, Heather, maybe it’s not a good idea for you to stay in Vermont. You should go back and study.”
Heather wanted to argue that one didn’t study for something as stupid as making chocolate chip cookies, but she kept her mouth shut. She’d said too much already. The moment she started fighting this fight would be the moment she lost. The only way out of this was if Ben or Bright stuck up for her. She looked at them both with pleading eyes.
Ben looked to his brother.
“Vermont is always a good idea,” Bright said matter-of-factly. “All this fresh air. Clears the mind. Often recommended by doctors for working out the kinks behind weirdo projects and strange pairings. And speaking of strange pairings…Merri Larousse and I are engaged.”
Heather had to hand it to Bright. It was quite possibly the longest speech he’d ever given, and a topic shift that no one expected. It succeeded in taking the focus of the conversation off her. Heather gave the elf a crooked grin of thanks. His left eyebrow raised ever so slightly…the sign that he acknowledged her gratitude.
She scampered back to the dressing room while the rest of the company was distracted. She could still hear most of the conversation through the thin walls. Taylor was the first to chime in with her congratulations, which had apparently shocked Ben.
“You don’t seem surprised in the least,” Ben said to his fiancée.
“Please,” Taylor’s voice rang out like silver on crystal. “I’ve known they belonged together since our senior year. It took them long enough to come around to the idea.”
“I’m a slow mover,” said Bright.
“Brother, you’re an iceberg,” said Ben.
“We’ve actually been engaged for a while,” said Bright. “I just didn’t want to say anything and steal your thunder.”
“It was the Midwinter Masquerade, wasn’t it?” Taylor asked, and apparently Bright answered in the affirmative. “I knew it! Oh, that’s just too perfect.”
Speaking of perfect…with everyone in high spirits about Bright’s announcement, Heather decided it was time for the turquoise dress. She passed it to Emily. Fingers crossed.
“Larousse…that fairy family from down south? With all those children?” Heather could almost hear her mother stick her nose in the air. “Really, Polaris. Her status is so far beneath yours. Are you sure about this?”
“Look at his face, Mother,” said Taylor. “It’s true love!”
“I’m just being realistic,” said Mrs. Hayden. “Does this young woman have any clue what sort of challenges await her as a Brighton wife?”
Heather considered her own situation as she wriggled into the turquoise dress. Mother could easily say worse things about Owen. She would never approve of her daughter dating a cat-shifter with such a dubious history. And if Owen thought Heather was a handful, he would never want to take on the rest of her family.
“I’m not worried in the slightest, Mrs. Hayden,” said Bright. “Merri and I have always made quite a unique partnership.”
“Always?” Ben was still mystified. “Did you two even speak in high school? You didn’t really talk to anyone back in those days.”
“He barely talks now,” said Taylor.
“Merri and Bright…who’d have thunk…” Ben mused. “Merri and Bright. Merri and…NO WAY.”
Taylor laughed hysterically.
“I never understand what you children find so amusing,” said Mrs. Hayden.
Heather wasn’t sure she understood this one either. She held a finger up to Emily and leaned her ear against the door of the dressing room.
“Did you really only just figure it out?” Bright asked his brother.
“Of all people, I thought you’d have guessed by now,” Taylor said with great delight. “But this is so much better.”
“I am such an idiot!” yelled Ben. “Merri and Bright! Harmswood’s ver
y own Mad Bandits!”
Now that was something Heather did know about. The Mad Bandits were the most infamous pranksters in all of Harmswood history. They pulled epic stunts…like driving Asher Larousse’s pumpkinmobile up to the roof of the library…which made a lot more sense now that Heather knew the perpetrators. They were also—though completely unintentionally—notorious matchmakers.
Heather’s mind flashed back to that last Midwinter Masquerade, when Merri Larousse had shoved Owen into Heather’s face and pulled Bright away into the crowd. Heather hadn’t truly seen Owen until that moment.
Oh, no.
Oh, yes, answered the voice inside her head.
Almost in a trance, Heather pulled open the dressing room door and stumbled into the lounge.
“Now that one has potential,” Mrs. Hayden said predictably. “What do you think, Taylor? Ignore the ridiculous sandals, of course. Why she chose to wear those when she knew she’d be trying on full-length gowns I’ll never know…”
Even if she did care what her mother was saying, Heather was too focused on the story. “You and Merri Larousse—Bellamy’s big sister—you are the Mad Bandits?”
“Were the Mad Bandits,” Bright confessed.
Taylor, who knew about the pumpkinmobile, burst out laughing all over again.
“Really, darling, I need your undivided attention,” said Mrs. Hayden.
“I like this one too, Mother. Let’s go with this color,” said Taylor.
“Wonderful,” Mother said in that tone she used whenever things went her way. It was the closest to “cheerful” that Ambrosia Hayden ever got.
“Did any of the couples you got together ever break up?” Heather asked Bright in desperation.
“Not that I know of,” said Bright. “But I haven’t really followed…”
“They didn’t,” Taylor confirmed. “Trust me. Your record remains untarnished.”
But Heather would not be dissuaded. “Who did you match up last year?”
Bright chuckled. “Ourselves, I guess. Why, did you hear about anyone else?”
Heather wasn’t sure how to answer that question, but it didn’t matter. At that moment, Katy came barreling through one of the sitting room mirrors. Ben managed to catch her before she flew headfirst into the settee. The champagne flutes on the side table were not so lucky. The lounge filled with the sound of breaking glass.
“Emily,” Mrs. Hayden called to the shop girl. “We’ve had a spill.”
The timid girl in the crushed-leaf dress scurried to attention with a brush and dustpan.
“Is your name even Emily?” Katy asked the bustling shop girl.
“No, miss,” she answered.
Heather hid her clenched fist in the folds of the voluminous skirt. She should have picked up on that detail, but she had missed it. This whole time she might have had an ally. Instead, Heather had ordered “Emily” around like a servant.
Just like her mother.
Don’t throw up, cautioned the voice. We like this dress.
“Good job, Mom,” said Katy. “Way to keep living in that precious little bubble you’ve got there.”
Some days, Heather wished she had half of Katy’s gumption. Katy was the only one who called Ambrosia Hayden “Mom.” She showed up when she wanted—if she wanted—wearing whatever she wanted. Today it was combat boots, striped leggings, a mini skirt, a faded t-shirt, a jean jacket riddled with holes, and a ratty newsboy cap. Each item was a different color of the rainbow. But none of that mattered because of—
“Kathryn Hayden, did you pierce your nose?!?”
—that.
“Thank you so much!” Katy said, as if she’d just received an award. “I love it too. It’s just the tiniest slip of bling. Almost like glitter.”
Another point for Katy. Ambrosia Hayden hated glitter.
“Now: hello to everyone, kisses and congratulations all around, let’s get this over with.” As she scanned the room for the dressing area, she finally noticed Heather. “Nice dress, sis! Love the shoes.”
“It is a good color, isn’t it?” said Taylor.
“We’re thinking of going with that one,” said Mrs. Hayden.
Heather instantly wished she hadn’t.
Katy’s eyes were already twinkling. “Excellent choice. It’ll match perfectly.”
“Match what?” Mother made the mistake of asking.
Katy put a finger to her cap before ripping it off to reveal a spiked mass of bright, rich turquoise hair.
Mother’s nostrils flared. “I’m not going to be able to look at that dress now without remembering you and your little stunts.” She pointed at Bright. “Did she learn this from you?”
Katy held up a hand to stop Bright—or anyone else—from answering. “No, Mom. I became a jerk all on my own.”
As she did with everything she didn’t care for, Ambrosia Hayden ignored her youngest daughter. “Heather, try the lavender next. And see if you can persuade your little sister not to glamour her skin to match this time?” She took the new flute of champagne that not-Emily had freshly poured. “I swear you girls can’t take anything seriously for more than five minutes.”
Heather glowered and frog-marched Katy straight back to the dressing room. “A pleasure, as always,” Katy said as they walked away.
“I hate you,” Heather muttered under her breath.
I think I hate her too, said the voice in her head. If it’s any consolation.
Oddly enough, it was.
7
Owen painstakingly scraped off each plate before stacking it next to the sink. Technically this wasn’t his job. He could have been topping off ketchup bottles and sugar dispensers, but there was still plenty of time for that.
Dina was the dishwasher tonight. She’d be starting her shift soon. If Owen took the time to make her job a little easier, then Dina would most likely sing while she worked. Her exquisite undine voice always made the night better. Owen preferred working at the diner when everybody was in a good mood. When he saw Dina’s name on the schedule that afternoon, he’d decided to make the extra effort.
“Order up,” Nikki called as she hung her latest ticket in the window. “Hey, hon,” she called through to Owen. “Pretty sure there’s someone here to see you.”
“Pretty sure?” Owen asked.
Nikki shoved the pencil back in her loose bun—her personal trick so that she never lost it and no one ever stole it. “I thought maybe she was one of Kai’s friends, but she’s been staring at the kitchen door since she sat down. I doubt she’s looking for me or José.”
José made a show of smoothing down his mustache. “Bite your tongue, woman.”
“She?” The hairs on the back of Owen’s neck stood at attention. “Man or beast?”
Nikki swore she didn’t have psychic abilities, but after all the years she’d spent as a waitress in Nocturne Falls, she had a sixth sense about who was a tourist and who…wasn’t. “Witch,” she answered matter-of-factly, and then went back to checking on her tables.
Owen closed his eyes and thanked the stars. He checked his reflection on the side of a soup tureen and smoothed his hair down. “Do I look okay?”
“Pffft,” José said as he flipped a burger. “Get out of here, Romeo.”
Nikki had sat Heather in the booth at the back of the restaurant, commonly referred to as the “family booth.” Unless the diner had a waitlist, this booth was reserved for diner-family business. Owen sat at this booth to eat a meal while on shift, or to talk to Kai or her parents. This was the first time anyone outside the Xanthopoulos family had been sitting there for him.
Heather wore all black, as usual, but she looked…less put-together than normal. Her hair was windblown. Her pashmina was wrinkled. The charm she usually wore as a choker was wrapped around her wrist, as if in afterthought. And she was alone. It was rare to see Heather not surrounded by her hangers-on.
“Just you?” Owen asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.
“Me is all
I have energy for right now,” she said. “I just got back. I should be in bed—between traveling through the magic mirror and dealing with my family, I’m exhausted. But I have to tell you something I learned, and I’m kind of hoping you won’t freak out about it.”
Owen’s muscles went tense. Had she put two and two together and realized the Arachne could be after her?
“I know who the Mad Bandits of Harmswood are. Were,” she said, as if that meant anything to him.
“Mad Bandits of Harmswood? Sounds like a fairy tale.”
“More like a legend,” said Heather. “And close friends of ours, apparently. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Polaris Brighton, but you definitely know Merri Larousse.”
“Ah,” said Owen. “Merri and Bright. Yes, Kai told me a little about that particular legend.”
“The pranks and the matchmaking?”
“I think she covered everything,” said Owen. “Wait, you believe in it? That suddenly you and I are somehow doomed to end up together because of two meddling people we happen to know?”
Heather sat up in the booth. “You don’t?”
“Not as much as you and Kai, apparently,” he said. “Look, Heather…you’re lovely, and you seem to wield a fair amount of power, but I’m not that guy. I’ve never been that guy.”
Heather’s perfect eyebrows furrowed. “What guy?”
“The hero in the fairy tale. I’m not the someone that people count on. I’m an instigator. A wingman. The idiot serving boy who gets turned into a cat and refuses to break his own curse. When the going gets tough, I run. I’m no savior.”
“Really,” Heather raised one of those brows. “I seem to remember you saving me once. Maybe it meant nothing to you at the time, but it meant something to me.”
The only person Owen had ever meant something to was Kai. And she was spoken for. As much as Owen might have yearned for real love after that, he knew he’d never have it.
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