The issue was how to tell her. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing one declared over text. He’d go to her aunt’s, tell her there.
But when he drove down the mountain and knocked on Elaine’s door, she was the only one there.
Well, her and the cat.
As soon as Elaine opened the door, the little furry bastard looked up at Rhys and very succinctly said, “Dickbag.”
“I defended you the other night, mate,” Rhys said, shaking a finger at Sir Purrcival. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Elaine chuckled at that, leaning down to scoop up the cat, but she didn’t invite Rhys in, and when she looked him over, he felt like she could see into his soul.
“You’re here to tell Vivi you love her,” she finally said, and he nodded.
“Along with some other things, yes, but that’s the main one. But since she doesn’t appear to be here, I’ll just pop over to—”
“Rhys.”
Elaine laid a hand on his arm, and for the first time, he noticed that she had the same hazel eyes as Vivienne. Those eyes were kind now, but Rhys knew he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say.
“She’s already home, getting ready for tonight. The magic she needs to do is . . . it’s more than she’s ever done before. Honestly, it’s more than I’ve ever done before, and it takes preparation. You can’t disturb that.”
Rhys felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach.
He was too late.
It seemed like he was always too fucking late.
“Right,” he said, making himself smile at Elaine. “Definitely not.”
Elaine squeezed his arm. “Tell her after.”
“I will,” he replied, even as unease crawled along his spine.
Assuming I’m still around after, I will.
The bath wasn’t helping.
Again.
At least this time, as Vivi sat in the tub, up to her chin in hot water, surrounded by candles, there was no vodka in sight. And she wasn’t conjuring up Rhys’s face or the scent of his cologne. She wasn’t even sniffling.
Really, a big improvement over her last Heartbreak Bath.
So why did she feel so much worse?
She knew the answer to that—because this time, the heartbreak felt so much bigger, and the task that loomed ahead of her was terrifying. Aunt Elaine was the best, strongest witch Vivi knew, and even she had never attempted something like this. And now Vivi, whose most-used spell was reheating her tea without a microwave, was going to summon up a long-dead spirit and demand it reverse a curse.
Somehow.
The water sloshed as she stood up and reached for a towel, dimly wondering what kind of thing she should wear to a ritual summoning on a graveyard on Halloween night. Probably something suitably impressive, all black, maybe, some silver jewelry.
But as Vivi looked through her closet, her eye fell on the dress she’d been wearing the night Rhys had first come back into town, the black one with the little orange polka dots and the orange patent leather belt.
She fucking loved that dress. But it didn’t exactly scream Powerful Sorceress.
She reached past it, going for the black dress she’d worn to the Fall Fair, but then she paused.
This was her spell. No matter that her ancestor had given it the necessary boost, she was the one who’d cast the original curse, and she would be the one trying to remove it tonight. She was a powerful sorceress, polka dots or no, and if wearing her favorite dress would make her feel better, why not?