Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2)

by Shauna Granger

  “Be that as it may, the offer stands.”

  Jameson turned from Whelan and headed for the door, where Spence was already waiting. Spence checked the hall before he let Jameson leave the apartment. Just as Spence closed the door, I caught him stealing one more glance at Ronnie, and the faintest smile played at his lips. Ronnie’s face almost matched her hair when I turned around to look at her. I lifted my brows, a smile pulling at my lips. Ronnie rolled her eyes and tried to hide her face behind her cup.

  “I should go,” Whelan said, pushing away from the couch.

  “No.” I put up a hand to stop him. “You’re staying here, at least for the night.”

  “Mattie, that’s okay,” Whelan argued, but I cut him off.

  “I’m not offering. I’m ordering. You are staying here tonight.”

  “Why?” Laney said, twisting to face me. “Do you think they’ll come after him?”

  I nodded. “They might. Seems stupid to take any chances, right, Whelan?”

  “I don’t want to burden you,” he said.

  Laney scrambled to her feet and pushed him back onto the couch before he could stand. “She said you need to stay.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Please listen to her.”

  Whelan stared at the pretty little goth girl. Her bright blue hair swung forward, creating a curtain around their faces. Whelan touched the tips of her hair, and I felt the urge to look away, as though I was spying on something intimate.

  “Okay,” Whelan said. “If you insist.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or Laney, but either way, it didn’t matter.

  “Great,” Laney said quickly, spinning around to face me. “I’m staying with him.”

  I tilted my head to look at Whelan around Laney’s small frame. He glanced at his great protector, then back at me, and nodded quickly.

  “Yeah, fine, whatever,” I said with a wave. “Ronnie, wanna help me?” I started gathering up half-empty mugs.

  Ronnie scrambled to her feet to help.

  Bu stood and walked over to shake Whelan’s hand. “Listen, man, I’m glad you’re okay, but I gotta get home.”

  “Right.” Whelan clasped Bu’s hand. “Thank you for your help.”

  I left Ronnie in the kitchen, washing the dishes for me, to go to the linen closet and get some extra blankets for my surprise guests. I handed the blankets to Laney when she reached for them. “Here you go. Try to get some rest—you really need it. I’ll be up early tomorrow, I’m sorry to say.”

  “I thought witches slept all day?” Laney said.

  “Normally we do, but tomorrow is Halloween. I never, ever miss the trick-or-treaters.”

  “Thanks for everything, Mattie,” Whelan said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” I squeezed his shoulder as I passed the couch to join Ronnie.

  He had absolutely nothing to apologize for, but I felt a little bad realizing his kidnapping had turned out to be a good thing, all things considered. Because we’d found him before he drank the magic Kool-Aid, we knew what Tollis was up to. Now Jameson had a chance to stop Tollis before the full moon.

  Even more than that, I knew I could actually enjoy Halloween without fear of some crazed werewolf pack. All I had to hope for was that P.E.A.C.E. would leave me alone too.

  Chapter 11

  Halloween is my favorite holiday. Ever. I loved getting gifts on Yule, but seeing tiny kids dressed up and running through the streets, trying to scare each other and scrabbling for free candy was just so much fun. I loved it.

  I ripped open a second bag of chocolates and spilled them into my plastic cauldron. The multicolored wrappers looked like a waterfall of jewels as the bowl filled to the brim. Artie was curled up on my recliner, avoiding the front door like the plague. I paused to scratch his head on my way to the front door. He grumbled, a low rumbling sound deep in his belly that wasn’t quite a purr, and flattened his ears.

  “Grumpus,” I said. “It’s only one night a year. Get over it.”

  I hefted the bowl on my hip and walked to the front door, passing the couch where Whelan and Lane were still curled up asleep. Her head rested on Whelan’s chest, his arm around her. Lane’s makeup hadn’t survived the night, and her blue hair was a tumble of tangles, hanging over the edge of the couch. Their legs were twined together, all black jeans and ripped fishnets.

  Whelan was starting to look like his old self again. The little color he usually had was coming back to his cheeks, and the dark circles under his eyes were fading. I didn’t want to wake them, so I was moving around as quietly as possible. But they were so deeply asleep that even when I did make a sound, they didn’t stir. I would have to wake them before the trick-or-treaters started to arrive—I didn’t want the human mothers freaking out over the two of them, seemingly dead to the world.

  The sun was still setting, so I had a little bit of time before the first kids came by. It was time to get things spookified. I set the candy on the table by the door.

  The hallway was brightly lit with the electric lights and the last burst of sunlight coming through the window at the far end of the hall. I dragged my jack-o-lantern over the threshold and situated him against the wall just outside the door, so no one would trip over him.

  I brought my hand to my face and whispered, “Aduro.” A bright blue flame ignited on my palm, flickering and throwing shadows along the far wall.

  Opening the lid of the hollowed-out pumpkin, I tipped the flame inside, letting it settle on the bottom. When I closed the lid, the gaping maw of the mouth and the slanted eyes took on a very sinister quality. I admired my work. It had been a bitch to carve, but staring at it in the hallway all lit up and creepy, it was totally worth the effort.

  Then I faced the hallway. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the vial of liquid fog I’d saved from the batch I made last year. Spilling it on the floor, I watched the coiling gray fog swirl around my feet and creep down the hallway. Soon the entire floor was covered, and the fog gamboled along the wall, climbing a foot or two before falling back on itself. It was like something alive. It was cool where it touched my ankles, and I fought the shiver that ran up my back. Satisfied, I turned my attention to the lights in the ceiling. I waved my hand, whispered the incantation, and watched as half the lights flickered out.

  Back inside, I turned on the Halloween playlist I’d created just for tonight and listened as the first few notes of a Dani Elfman song filled my silent apartment. I heard the couch creak as my two guests woke finally. Whelan tried to extricate himself from Laney’s clutches, and with more grace than I thought possible in his weakened state, he crawled over the back of the couch and landed quietly on his bare feet. Laney mumbled something but just curled into the cushions and remained asleep.

  Whelan met my eyes and shrugged, but it looked more like a cringe. I just shook my head at him. He crept into the bathroom. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be quiet for Laney’s sake or if he needed to pee so badly he was walking funny. I turned my attention away from the humans to take inventory of my preparations.

  “Candy, check.” I pointed at the bowl. “Music, check. Ambiance, check. What am I missing?” I touched my chin and turned, trying to think of what else I needed before the first trick-or-treaters arrived.

  “Mrrow,” Artie said from the chair.

  “Oh!” I snapped my fingers and ran into the bedroom. The sound of my hurried footsteps didn’t bother Laney at all. I came out adjusting my black, pointed velvet hat. “Almost forgot.”

  Witches didn’t really wear those silly things, but the human children got a kick out of them. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the wide brim until the hat sat just the way I wanted. It matched my floor-length black dress with the black spider-web-like sleeves that clung to my arms. The hem of my dress arced up in the front, exposing my pointy-toed heels and a few inches of my black-and-green striped tights. I was the perfect movie-version witch. All I needed was a hooked nose and a wart. I considered casting a gla
mour to give myself the creepy crone look, but I’d done such a good job on my sparkly purple eye shadow and thick false eyelashes that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Decided to go as a witch, huh?” Whelan teased as he came out of the bathroom. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to make his black Mohawk take shape. It was a sharp line of spikes along his pale head. “Very original.”

  “Shush your face,” I said, waggling my fingers at him and making tiny sparks ignite.

  Whelan held up his hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

  I cringed. “Don’t call me ma’am.”

  Whelan chuckled.

  “You gonna wake her?” I asked, motioning at the couch with a thumb.

  “Probably should, huh?”

  “Ya think?” I brushed past him to go into the kitchen to check on my wolf’s bane potion. I’d started brewing it when I woke so it could steep for a few hours while I passed out candy. If I’d timed it right, it should be ready just after the last trick-or-treaters.

  From the living room came the mumble of lowered voices as Laney came around. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it sounded sweet. A pang of envy shot through me, making me clutch the ceramic spoon painfully over the pot. I heard the bathroom door click closed, snapping me out of my hesitation, and I resumed my actions just as Whelan appeared around the corner at the opening of the kitchen.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  “No,” I said, setting the spoon on the spoon rest. “Got everything under control.”

  Whelan’s stomach made a noise and a pink hue colored his cheeks. He grimaced at me, as if in apology for the noise.

  “Eat,” I said, waving at the kitchen.

  I walked out of the kitchen just in time to hear children’s voices filling the hallway. I rushed to the door and hid off to the side. I heard them giggling and urging one another to be the first to ring my doorbell. It was a competition to see who would be brave enough to step up to the witch’s door.

  Just as the first tiny foot came around the edge of my door, I threw a handful of the flash powder I had at the ready. There was a bang and a plume of black smoke and the delighted squeals of children. I jumped in front of the door so that when the smoke cleared, I was standing there, hands crooked in front of me as I bent toward the children.

  “Ah! More children to add to my stew!” I cackled, making them squeal again.

  Their mothers stood back, smiling and taking pictures and videos of their reactions.

  “Oh, this won’t do! Not at all!” I said as I pinched a tiny cowboy’s face. “Skin and bones! Skin and bones! We must fatten you up with candy!”

  The group of kids laughed and held out their pails and bags, and I gave them all a few pieces of candy. The chorus of “thank yous” rang out as they dashed away for the protection of the elevator and their mothers. I waved at the parents and watched them go, wondering what surprise Ronnie had planned for them.

  “Wow, you really get into it, don’t you?” Whelan asked as he came out of the kitchen with a bowl of cereal.

  “I try.” I plucked a chocolate wrapped in blue foil out of the cauldron.

  I was just biting into it when Laney emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was smoothed into a high bun on top of her head, and she’d managed to clean off the black smudges of her ruined makeup.

  “I used some of your mouthwash. I hope that was okay,” she said. Her shoulders were lifted close to her ears, and her face was scrunched up in worry.

  I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m sure we all appreciate you doing that.” I chewed the chocolate.

  Laney smiled and relaxed her shoulders. She glanced at Whelan as he sat at the kitchen table, and I saw her eyes flit to his bowl of cereal.

  “Help yourself,” I said.

  Laney flashed me a bright smile before running into the kitchen as light as a pixie.

  As the sun set and night settled over the city, the trick-or-treaters flooded the building. Humans and supernaturals alike vied for candy and watched the tricks provided by the Brighthaven neighborhoods. Soon the whole building was filled with squealing and laughing children. It was awesome.

  After a few hours, the three of us were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking spiked hot chocolate. It was getting late, and the trick-or-treaters were dwindling down until the majority of them were teenagers, hoping to take the leftover candy off people’s hands. I didn’t mind teenagers—hell, I didn’t mind adults—trick-or-treating, as long as they dressed up.

  “Trick or treat!” a group of boys called from the front door.

  I adjusted my hat and pushed away from the table, but when I got to the door, my smile faded. Five boys were at my door, all of them nearly six feet tall, and not one of them had a costume. They didn’t even have those cheap rubber masks or a smudge of makeup.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” I placed one hand on the door jamb and the other on my hip as I glared at them.

  “Trick or treat!” the ring leader said again with a bright, wide smile. He was holding a plain pillowcase, and from the bulge in the bottom, I could see he’d already hit a fair number of houses.

  “No,” I said.

  “Um…” the kid said.

  The group shared looks, their mouths opening and closing without any words coming out.

  “You’re out of candy?” one of the boys in the back asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see my cauldron was still half full of chocolate. “No.”

  The boys exchanged looks again before returning their attention to me.

  “You come to my door asking for candy that I bought with my own money, seeing all the effort I put into giving you a good show, and you can’t even put the tiniest, tiniest effort into some sort of costume? I don’t think so.”

  “But it’s Halloween.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed. “And you aren’t holding up your end of the bargain.”

  “Bargain?”

  “Yes, the way this works is you dress up for my amusement, and I give you candy for your effort. I’m not going to give you candy just because you asked for it.”

  “If you don’t give treats, you get a trick,” one of the as-yet-silent boys in the back said. He was a little taller than the rest, and his round head was covered in light peach fuzz. His jaw was a little too wide and his eyes a little too far apart. He was probably the only one who could get away with claiming to be a serial killer without wearing an actual costume.

  “Threatening me won’t get you candy either. As a matter of fact…” I pushed away from the doorframe and stepped into the hall, making the boys surround me in a half-circle. “If you threaten me again, you’re going to get a trick. I can promise you, you won’t like it.”

  The serial killer look-a-like took a half step closer to loom over me. I felt a cruel smile curl my lips. I called power to my hand until my fingers were tingling. I let the electric bolt shoot from my hand and strike the boy in the foot. He jumped almost two feet and squealed in pain. He dropped his skateboard and grabbed his foot, hopping on the other as he looked at me in shock. The other four boys all took a few steps back from me.

  “Now,” I said very calmly, placing both hands on my hips. “You go and put together some sort of acceptable costumes and come back, and you can have all the candy I have left in that bowl.”

  The boys exchanged looks again, their eyebrows climbing their foreheads.

  “Seriously?” one of them asked.

  I nodded. “Seriously. But I mean it.” I wagged at finger at them, tiny sparks of light jumping around my finger. “You’d better come back with real costumes, or you’re gonna get the trick of your lives.”

  Grins spread across their faces, and even serial-killer boy looked intrigued. They whooped and hollered as they rushed back to the elevator. As the doors closed on them, they bent close together and whispered their plans. I laughed and walked back into the apartment.

  “That was awkward,” Laney off
ered over the rim of her mug.

  Whelan snorted. “No, that was awesome.”

  “You could’ve just given them the candy,” Lane said. “What is the big deal?”

  “The big deal is I don’t owe them anything.” I took my chair again, careful to sweep the train of my dress out of the way. “I could just shut my door, turn off my light, and pretend I’m not here, but I don’t. I like this holiday, as bastardized as it is. I like seeing kids dressed up in their zombie-princess-spaceman-monster glory, and for their effort, I’m happy to give them candy. But if they don’t even take the time to smear some shoe polish under their eyes and say they’re a football player, or roll around in the dirt and say they’re the risen dead, then they don’t get my candy.”

  “She has a point,” Whelan said.

  I poured more chocolate into our mugs, and Whelan added a healthy dollop of Irish cream to each. I checked the clock and saw it was just past ten o’clock, which meant the trick-or-treater parade was probably over. I switched off my playlist of creepy music and horror movie soundtracks and put on the latest by Black Witch White Magic. As I was dispelling the fog in the hallway, the elevator binged and the doors opened to reveal Ronnie and Joey.

  Ronnie had dressed up as well, but instead of playing to her witchy abilities, she’d gone with some sort of medieval princess. Her ropy red hair was done up in a complicated braid with strands of silver and gold, and she had a delicate circlet over her forehead. Her dress was moss green and cream with ivy embroidered all over. Her sleeves came down over her hands, held in place with a ring slipped over each middle finger. As she walked, I saw her silver slippers peeking out from under her hem. As far as costumes go, it was very pretty, but not very Halloween-y if you asked me.

  Joey, on the other hand, had gone goth pixie, and it was serious. Her bubblegum pink hair was the only color on her entire body. She was dressed head to toe in black, from her combat boots, to her ripped fishnet stockings, to her tattered tutu skirt and black tank top that looked painted on. She’d even painted her face in silvery black designs that swirled away from her eyes to disappear into her hairline. But most impressive of all were the pixie wings fanning out behind her. They were iridescent silver, glittering in the hallway light as they bounced gently in time with her steps.