Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (19 page)

“I’m sorry,” I said, touching my forehead lightly. “I’m out of it lately.” It was a lame explanation, but it was the best I could come up with.

“Sure.” He tried to sound light and flippant, but I knew better.

Fletcher had let me know that he had a thing for me—whether or not it was serious, I didn’t know yet—and I felt like I was leading him on. I wasn’t trying to. Fletcher was cute and sweet, and I was a warm-blooded, heterosexual woman. I couldn’t help but be attracted to him. But I’d sworn no more vampires, and I meant it. If I accepted Fletcher’s advances, responded to them, just to end up rejecting him, what kind of person did that make me?

“I see,” Fletcher said with a nod. He stepped back and tugged at the hem of his jacket, straightening it out.

“Fletcher—”

“I do love the way my name sounds on your lips,” he said.

He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting my face to look at him. He closed the distance I had created and bent close to my face. My heart was slamming into my ribs, and I was acutely aware of my pulse as blood rushed to my face. My hands became clammy. His grip was light so that if I wanted to, I could pull out of it. But I didn’t.

Fletcher pressed his lips to my cheek, so close to the corner of my mouth that I almost felt his lips on mine. They were as warm and soft as I thought they would be. A memory of Fletcher pressing me into a wall, his hand fisted in my hair and his breath on my neck, flashed into my mind, and my body responded. Fletcher froze, his cheek still touching mine as he breathed in my scent as the memory thundered through me.

“Now I know what you smell like when you think of me,” he whispered.

His voice was so low that I almost couldn’t hear him. I realized I was pressing closer, trying to catch every syllable. My eyes were closed, and I was breathing in his scent, letting his warm, spicy smell fill me. I lifted my hands to hold his jacket, but in the next moment, his grip was gone. I was left standing there, on the middle of a roof with a dozen people around me, and yet I was totally alone. When I opened my eyes, Fletcher was gone, and all that I had left was the dying echo of wings on the wind.

I wrapped my arms around myself and turned, catching Ronnie’s eye. Her face was slightly pinched with worry, but soon it shifted into something else. I took in the look of pity etched on her freckled face, and it fit how I felt. Good gods, my love life was so fucked up.

Chapter 13

“Mattie?” Ronnie’s voice was soft, a feather touch from behind me, as if she was afraid of startling me.

I had turned away to stare at the door leading back into the building, assuming that’s how Fletcher had disappeared. Yes, I’d heard the wings, but I’d never seen Fletcher
fly
for curse’s sake. Ronnie said my name again, and I felt her fingers on my arm. I couldn’t ignore her anymore.

“Yeah?” My voice caught in my throat, so that I had to cough to clear it. “What?”

“It’s after midnight.”

It took me a moment to realize the importance of that fact, but I caught up. If it was after midnight, then Halloween was over and it was officially Samhain.

“Right,” I said, pulling myself together and out of the recesses of my mind filled with swirling images of Fletcher’s smiling face and wounded eyes.

“Should we light a fire?”

“Yes.” I let my arms fall to my side and stood straight. “Yes, we need a fire and some sage.”

“We’ll get the sage,” Joey said. She whistled a complicated but short tune, and the cloud of pixies flew away over the edge of the building.

Ronnie and I went to the fire ring on the far side of the roof and added pieces of wood from the pile in the bin. By the time we were ready to light the ring, the pixies were back, carrying three bundles of sage between them. Ronnie took the bundles and nestled them among the logs.

“What’s going on?” Bu asked as the group of humans joined us.

“On Samhain, we light fires.” Ronnie stepped back and clapped her hands to dust them off. Satisfied with our handiwork, she nodded at me.

I lifted my right hand and drew power to it until it was snapping at my fingertips. With more control than I usually used, I released a small bolt of power and lit the fire. “The fires are to cleanse and rejuvenate us,” I added, picking up where Ronnie left off.

The wood smoke was black and sooty, but the smoke from the sage was fragrant and light, mixing with it as they rose into the air. Ronnie and I stood close to the fire and held out our hands, letting the smoke writhe around them. We pulled it into our faces, over our heads, and breathed it in. It was sharp, but I felt it coating me, cleansing me, and that’s just what I needed.

Joey stepped up and followed our example, pulling the smoke over her pink-and-black figure. Then Spencer came forward and stood so close to Ronnie that their arms nearly touched. He didn’t pull the smoke over him, but I watched as he closed his eyes and breathed deep, his chest swelling as he took in the smoke.

I heard the scuff of a footstep and glanced over my shoulder to see the six humans standing back. They’d come closer but clearly weren’t sure if they were welcome among us. I held out my hand, and Whelan came forward and took it. A flash of annoyance crossed Laney’s face, but it was gone quickly enough.

Whelan’s fingers were strong around my hand, reminding me of his prowess at the piano. I guided him forward until he stood beside me, but he didn’t let go of me. He stared into the fire and watched the flames shift from reds, oranges, and golds to emerald green, blues, and white. The cleansing power of Samhain was upon us. Whelan held his free hand over the fire and watched as the smoke coiled around his fingers, clung to his wrist, and snaked up his arm. He closed his eyes and drew his hand over his head, letting the smoke cascade over him. He smiled after breathing in the healing power.

Soon the rest of his friends joined us around the fire, fitting between us so that we were a perfect mix of supernaturals and humans. It felt so normal, so natural, for all of us to be gathered like that. This was what we wanted life to be like, what supernaturals had hoped for when the Great Revelation happened so many years ago. But instead, we were all still fighting to find a balance, living in a strenuous relationship, like a violin string pulled a little too tight and always threatening to snap.

“I’ve never been to the festival,” Bu said, breaking the silence.

“You should go,” Joey said.

I looked across the fire at her. Her lavender eyes flashed in the flickering firelight.

“Can humans go?” one of the girls I hadn’t met asked.

“Of course,” I said. “Everyone is welcome. It’s a holiday celebration.”

“What happens?” the other unnamed girl asked.

“We eat,” Spencer said.

“We beat drums,” Ronnie said.

“We light the Great Bonfire,” Joey said.

“And we dance,” I said.

“Sounds wonderful,” Bu said.

We were all staring into the fire, watching the flames dance, our voices low.

“It is.” I blinked to clear my vision and look around at everyone. I stepped back, tugging on Whelan’s hand to follow my lead as I sat on one of the benches surrounding the fire pit.

Whelan touched Lane’s elbow, and she moved quickly to sit beside him.

“The Great Bonfire heals and cleanses as the smoke rolls over us,” I said. “But when our community comes together, we raise power together, lending it to the Fire. We heal each other, we grow together. So anyone who wants to be part of our community is always welcome, and the Great Bonfire is the best way to start.”

“Will you dance?” Bu asked me.

I leaned forward to meet his eyes and nodded. “Yes, I always dance.”

“As do I,” Ronnie said.

I saw a small smile pull at Spencer’s mouth. I knew he was thinking of the flame-haired witch, barefoot in the grass, moving her body in time with the beat of the drums.

“We should go, all of us,” Whelan said.

The other humans nodded and murmured their agreement, and I smiled. Not enough humans joined our celebrations, forgetting that our rituals were once their rituals as well. Tiny steps would lead us to a stronger community. Tomorrow night, we would go to the Samhain festival, where the entire supernatural community of Los Angeles county would come together to start a new year. It was exactly what I needed after the last couple of months. I would dance, and I would breathe the smoke, and I would forget my worries for a moment.

After we’d breathed our fill of the fire, we all sat on the benches, curled up together. Across the city, similar tiny fires lit up the skyline on top of buildings. They looked like stars fallen from the sky, settled among the mortals to burn until the sun rose again. We stayed on the roof for over an hour, watching the fire until it dwindled to glowing embers. Spencer and Ronnie stayed behind to bank the embers, insisting the rest of us head down on our own.

Back in my apartment, I bottled the wolf’s bane for Whelan and gave Bu and Laney a small bottle each as well, since they spent so much time around him.

“Just put it on like cologne,” I said as I spritzed some on the side of his neck. “It’s not gonna smell awesome, but that’ll go away. The pheromones won’t.”

“And that’ll keep the Weres away?” Lane asked as she sprayed her wrist. She took an experimental sniff, and her face scrunched up. She rubbed her wrists together, holding them as far away from her face as possible.

“Yes.” I grabbed the pot and poured the remaining potion into a mason jar. “If you have any Were customers at the record shop, they’re probably gonna leave, but once this Tollis guy is gone, you can lay off on it.” I screwed the lid on the jar, hoping the rest of the smell would dissipate soon enough. I put the jar into the cabinet with the other potions that I didn’t have much demand for. It was always good to have them on hand for emergencies though.

“Sounds good.” Whelan nodded as I turned to escort them to the door.

I watched the group of humans go, all dressed in their goth-punk-glory, and waited in the doorway until the elevator doors slid closed. I crouched to check on my jack-o-lantern. The magical blue flame inside was still flickering, protecting my home from unwanted spiritual visitors. Most people forgot why we carved pumpkins on Halloween. Once the trick-or-treaters stopped coming, they blew out the candles and went in for the night, but the spirits were still roaming the earth. I would let my jack-o-lantern burn through the night and into the next, through Samhain.

I pushed up from the floor, my dress billowing as my skirts resettled, and I turned back to my door. I stopped in my tracks when I crossed the threshold.

Owen was standing in my apartment.

My voice was stuck in my throat. I stared at the vampire standing not ten feet away from me. He wasn’t dressed for Halloween, but he did look like Hollywood’s ideal vampire with his black motorcycle boots, dark jeans with the perfect faded pattern over the thighs, and a tight black T-shirt under his short black leather jacket. He’d cut his hair, so it no longer hung down to his jaw. Instead it was just above his ears, which made it curlier than I’d ever seen it. I wondered if it would grow back.

He stared at me, his eyes glowing a faint yellow. He was paler than I was used to seeing him; I could even see the tiny blue veins at his temples. His lips weren’t as full as I knew they should have been. Theo controlled how much blood her bonded vampires drank so that they were always dependent on her for sustenance. It was cruel and dangerous. Owen’s nostrils flared slightly as he took in my scent, and I wondered what he was picking up on.

“You’ve been at a fire.” His voice was so familiar and yet so foreign to me now.

I just nodded in answer.

“And Fletcher was here.”

That I didn’t respond to. I was careful to hold my breath.

Owen tilted his head and continued to stare at me. When my lungs started to burn with the effort of holding my breath, he said, “I saw him.”

I tried to breathe out slowly, act as though I was totally calm, but I didn’t think I was very successful.

“I saw you.”

What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

“I saw you two dance. Together.”

And what was I supposed to say to
that
? He wasn’t asking questions. He wasn’t making accusations. He was just standing in my apartment and telling me that he had been spying on me. My surprise was quickly turning to indignation, and I felt anger coming. Owen was often in my thoughts, and those thoughts were always sweet and painful. I tried not to blame him for not loving me enough to overpower Theo’s hold over him, but whenever I thought about her snapping her fingers and him jumping to answer her call, a flower of hate blossomed inside me. Now I had a bouquet filling me.

“What are you doing here?” I said, finding my voice.

“Not the greeting I was expecting.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me. Or at least”—he sniffed the air—“not so angry.”

“Why the hell shouldn’t I be angry?” Power built inside me, snaking down my arms to look for a way out of my body.

“I missed you. I thought you missed me.” His voice didn’t match his words. His words were hopeful, but his voice was flat and bitter. He didn’t deserve to be bitter. Bitter was a party of one around here.

Tiny sparks of power dripped from my fingers as if they were leaky faucets. I saw them blinking out of existence before they hit the floor. If I balled up my fists, the power would build inside me until my hands burned, so I let it leak.

“I see I was wrong.” Still his voice didn’t match. He should’ve sounded disappointed or even hurt, but instead he sounded indignant, aloof.

For the love of frogs was he pissing me off. “So you want me to miss you. Is that it? You want me to sit around and pine for you? Hoping and praying that you’ll suddenly show up for one of these sweet reunions? You want me to break my heart day after day as I think about you all curled up in Theo’s bed, feeding from her?”

“Mattie.” Finally his voice sounded right.

“No!” The word burst from me with a flash of power. The smell of burning rug filled the air. “You show up here
uninvited
and tell me you’ve been spying on me. You try to make me feel bad about spending time with a friend who cares about me when we all know you can’t stay. The sun is less than two hours from rising, and you can’t be caught outside the lair, so what the hell am I supposed to say to you? Tell me! What am I supposed to say to you?”