Graysin, Callie, Addie, and Sindi followed me as we toured the first floor of the inn the night before we fully reopened to guests—just in time as the weather was calling for a good snowstorm next week, and Tase would be opening the ski lifts soon. The girls oohed and aahed as we entered each room, although they’d all seen the place at one stage or another since they’d each helped it come together in their own way.

“Thanks to Addie and a little touch of magic—and the crew, of course—the hard stuff was finished quickly,” I said, as we returned to the lobby with its newly redone wood floors that shone beautifully. “And thanks to Graysin, the décor is simply perfect.”

“Don’t forget my nineteen percent friends’ discount,” Callie added.

“Yes! Thank you so much for that,” I gushed.

“And my excellent crew management skills,” Sindi said.

I laughed. “If you call watching their asses management.”

“Hey.” She pouted. “I made sure those asses were constantly moving.”

“By grabbing them,” Addie teased.

Sindi smirked. “I couldn’t let Madame Luiza have all the fun.”

“Speaking of, where is Mammie?” Addie asked.

“I don’t know. She said she didn’t want to miss girls’ night. She must be in the ghost world.” I laughed at how bizarre yet normal for us that sounded as I walked over to the front desk, where a tray of champagne flutes waited. I handed a glass to each of the girls. “All of you deserve so much more than a toast. You went above and beyond to return this inn to its former beauty, but with enough modern touches to make it perfectly nostalgic and luxuriously comfortable at the same time—and in record time. I wish I could give you more than this simple toast or even this night, but I raise my glass and say cheers to you. I’m so happy to call you my friends!”

I beamed at the girls who stood in front of me with blank stares. Addie raised a brow. Graysin and Callie exchanged a look. Sindi burst out laughing.

My shoulders sank. “Too much?”

“Uh . . . well . . . sweet. It was sweet,” Graysin attempted. Sindi laughed even harder.

Callie rolled her eyes. “It definitely conveyed your luuurve for everybody, if that’s what you were going for.”

Addie joined Sindi in more fits of laughter.

“Oh my god, you just brought back memories of when you accepted the homecoming crown,” Addie gasped out between giggles. She removed her glasses to wipe her eyes as she mimicked my voice. “Thank you all so very much. I am so honored that you think so much of me, and I promise not to let you down . . .” She trailed off, tilting her head. “Oh, wait. No, I think that speech was when you were elected student council vice president.”

Sindi’s laughter halted as she peered at me. “It’s like I don’t even know you!”

I rolled my eyes, then blew out a breath of relief. “Thank god you were all honest, because I kind of made myself gag with that speech. I mean, I am grateful, but no need to embarrass us all.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

“So no Grand Reopening?” Callie asked, her bracelets clinking together as she lifted her flute to her mouth. One drunken night at the bar, she and Addie had a competition about who was wearing the most. They were too drunk to count correctly, so they decided it was a draw.

I shook my head. “Nah. We were really only fully closed for a few days at a time, so it seems kind of weird to have a big party. It’s just the Thanksgiving feast for all of you next week. Besides, with all the events around town during the holidays, I didn’t see a need to add another. We’re participating in pretty much everything, so there will be lots of opportunity for people to check out the inn.”

“And it’ll be all decked out for the holidays,” Graysin said, her dark eyes lit up with excitement.

“We start tomorrow, right?” I verified with her, and she gave me a nod.

“Thank fuck you didn’t add another event,” Callie blurted. “I don’t know what’s worse—the holidays or summer around here. There’s always something obnoxious going on in this town. At least Music on the Square is over for a while.”

“I kind of like Music on the Square,” I said.

She grimaced. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t every freaking Thursday.”

Addie gave her a funny look. “It’s not.”

“Yeah, it is,” Callie argued.

“It’s called Third Thursdays Music on the Square,” Addie said. “Because it’s the third Thursday of the month.”

Callie’s brows scrunched together. “Really?”

Addie and I both nodded.

“Wow.” She shrugged. “It certainly feels like it’s every week. Probably because there are never decent bands.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I said.

“Can’t the Cult, er, I mean the Court do something about that?” Sindi asked, looking at me pointedly. “Now that you’re on it, maybe you can bring change. Like some kickass bands.”

She loved goading me about the Court, but I had to keep warning her about calling it the Cult. She was going to get her ass banished if she wasn’t careful.

“Events like that are for the fake council,” Callie said flippantly.

Sindi’s auburn brows rose. “There’s a fake council?”

“It’s not fake,” Addie said.

“May as well be,” Callie scoffed.

“What the hell is the fake council?” Sindi demanded.

“It’s the City Council,” I explained. “The mainly human one that does all the normal city stuff, like making decisions on building codes and garbage collection. They oversee the parks and the community events.”

“They think they’re in charge,” Callie said, “but it’s a ruse. Even Mayor Barbie knows it is.”

“So, uh, let’s check out the conservatory,” Addie quickly said, before the conversation veered off in a direction that put us in a precarious position with Court secrets and other taboo subjects.

I led the girls past the front desk to our left and the dark wooden grand staircase to our right, with the piano sitting under it. Mike McCabe and his men, with Everett’s help, were able to restore the wall of stained glass images that rose behind the stairs from the bottom of the ground floor all the way to the ceiling of the third floor. When the sun was in the western sky and shone through, the colors that played on the stairs and the bench seats on each landing whisked you away to another realm. Well, not literally—which, in Havenwood Falls, could be possible. I would have said the staircase was one of my favorite places in the inn, but there were too many to name a true favorite.

“So, what’s the Court like?” Graysin asked, rather innocently, as we passed through the library, another room I adored, with its floor-to-ceiling wooden bookcases and fat-cushioned chairs. When nobody answered, her steps faltered. “Oh, is that something we’re not supposed to talk about?”

Part-gargoyle, she was aware of the supernatural side of Havenwood Falls, but was a relative newcomer. Not just to town, but to the whole underworld the human race believed to be myths. She was bound to have questions.

“It’s basically just taking care of the town, and making sure our secrets stay safe,” I said.

“Just like the brochure says,” Addie quipped.

“There’s a brochure?” Surprised, Sindi gave me an accusatory glare for not sharing it with her.

I rolled my eyes. “She was being snarky. But that really is all we do, at least, in my experience so far. Discipline those who get out of hand. Make sure situations are cleaned up. Argue about how to clean things up.”

“Miss Mary Beth mentioned how you stood up to Roman Bishop during Rowan and Julianna’s case before the Court,” Graysin said, a hint of awe in her voice. “She’s kind of pissed at you, but I hope you knocked him down a few pegs.”

“He’s an asshole,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“All the Bishops are,” Addie quickly agreed, then we both looked at Callie.

“Sorry,” we said at the same time.

She growled—actually growled—and for the first time, I could believe there really was a demon in her. “I know better than anybody what a bunch of assholes the Bishop boys are. No apologies necessary.”

“I have a feeling Roman and I are going to clash on everything,” I said as we passed through the dining room and approached the French doors at one end that opened to the conservatory.

“Just be careful,” Addie said, dropping her voice to a whisper as the others walked behind us. “He’s a fucktard, but he really is powerful. In all kinds of ways.”

“Yeah, well, so is my best friend.”

She let out a harrumph. “Not even Grandmother Saundra likes taking on Roman Bishop, if you haven’t noticed. Not that she can’t. There’s just too much at stake. Be careful, Kales. You don’t want him on your bad side.”

I gave her a small nod, then turned to the others as I opened the doors. “And you all are the first to see the conservatory.”

The large space off the side of the banquet hall-slash-ballroom also competed for one of my favorite places, especially since the weather had changed—winter came early in the mountains. I had to admit that Tase had done fantastic work in fixing and cleaning up the metal frame, and all the glass pieces had been replaced. During the day, guests could sit out here and feel like they were out in the snow, but without the freezing temperatures. At night, it provided a stunning view of the stars through the glass ceiling.

We sat in one of the seating areas Graysin had arranged, and where I had set out some cheese, crackers, and wine. After pouring us each a glass, I joined the others as we all leaned back on the cushioned lounge chairs to gaze at the sky—a glittery sight not too many places in the world could compete with.

“I thought this would be my favorite part,” Addie said, disappointment lacing her tone.

“Me, too. Nature, stars, and the moon are your thing,” I said. “It’s not your favorite?”

Sitting up, she glanced around. “I don’t know. I just feel . . . something.”

Callie sat up, too. “I sense it, as well.”

“Dark magic?” Addie asked, and Callie nodded.

“Just a faint trace,” Callie clarified. “Like it had been here once, a while ago.”

“Exactly.” Addie gave me a look of concern.

We didn’t stay out there long, but moved back to the front parlor, or the circle room, as it had come to be called by all the workers. The woodwork on the walls had been restored, but painted a light cream color to brighten the room. The formerly dark wood had made it feel closed in, and hardly anyone had ever sat in it. The ceiling was sectioned off like pie pieces with cream wood trim separating the slices and an image of the sun with the moon at the center, a chandelier dangling from it. The panels of the ceiling pieces were painted a deep blue with yellow stars. A couple of faux tropical plants sat among the comfortable wood and upholstered furniture. Graysin and I loved how the room was like a mirrored reflection of the conservatory on the opposite corner of the building.

Three bottles of wine later, our conversation became silly and full of giggles. Aurelia had come in at one point, and we’d actually managed to embarrass the crap out of her, scaring her off to the cottage. Mammie never did make an appearance, which was just as well. She’d be busy with her hauntings once the rooms started filling up tomorrow, so she needed to gather all the energy she could.

Callie and Graysin stumbled out of the inn, and I was grateful they lived within walking distance. Addie stood, much steadier than the rest of us, but rubbing her arms. She hadn’t been the same since we’d been in the conservatory.

“Are you okay?” I asked as I walked her to the door.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Should I be worried about the conservatory?”

“Nah. Whatever might have been there before is gone now. I think I’m just extra sensitive tonight. Some insane shit happened earlier today with Harper Sinclair.”

“I heard. The whole Court was alerted. Poor girl can’t even sign her name without Hell breaking loose. Literally.”

Harper was Eloise’s niece, and she had her own psychic scribing abilities, but they were of a much darker nature than her aunt’s. Today at the real estate office, she’d scribed a threatening message from a demon.

“It has me a little wigged out, I guess,” Addie said.

“Saundra said she contacted this Lucas guy.” His name was specified in the message that threatened him and anyone who helped Harper, which was pretty much our whole town. I hadn’t been on site today, but I could understand why Addie was freaked out by it.

She nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. I feel a shitstorm brewing in the energy surrounding this town. We have some rough times ahead.”

I stepped outside with her. “Well, if that’s not a buzzkill.”

I threw my arms around her in a hug.

“No kidding,” she murmured over my shoulder.

She’d been right. Over the next several days, the energy tangibly changed.

* * *

I awoke with a start, my heart racing with fear even as guilt washed through me. Xandru’s arm snaked around my stomach, and he pulled me into him, tucking me into the curve of his half-sleeping body. He tried to comfort me, but his touch, his love, his compassion only made the guilt worse. This was why I hated sleeping. I loved lying in bed with him, though. If only I didn’t always nod off. If only I wasn’t mortal with a physical need for rest.

As soon as Xandru’s breathing resumed a deep rhythm, I slipped out of bed and padded out into the sun-drenched living room. I blinked against the brightness, wondering why the curtains were pulled back.

“It’s about time you got up,” Aurelia said from the kitchen, making me jump. “Do you always sleep this late?”

Joining her, I pulled a coffee cup off a hook while glancing at the clock that read a little before noon. “I forgot you’re out of school. You scared the crap out of me.”

“We’ve been out all week.”

“Give me a break. I just woke up. And it’s not like you’ve been around much.”

“Well, don’t worry. I won’t be in your hair for long today, either. Laurel, Alicia, and I are meeting up—”

“Didn’t you just spend the night with them?”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah, but what are breaks for, if not spending it with friends?”

“And what about Lena?” Lena and Laurel were twins, and Aurelia had been friends with both of them for years. Lately, though, I rarely heard anything about the quieter sister.

Aurelia huffed out a breath. “She’s . . . not like us. She’s just not into the same things. She’d rather stay at home, like an old lady.”

“She sure was there for you when you needed her most, after Mom died. Was Laurel?”

Turning her back to me, Aurelia dumped the contents of her cup into the sink. “I have to go. They’re waiting.”

I stepped closer. “Aurelia.”

She lifted her head to look out the window, still avoiding me. “Laurel and Alicia are fun. Yeah, it’s dumb stuff like boys and clothes, but their silliness makes me laugh. I just want to laugh. To live. I don’t want to sit around and dwell. Lena’s great for stillness and peace. I needed that then. But not now.”

“So you were using her.”

“Michaela . . . no.” She sighed. “Maybe.”

“Don’t be an asshole friend, Aurelia. You know what Mom would say about that.”

I could only see her profile, but her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, blinking back tears, I was sure. Then she spun on her heel and pushed past me, grabbing her coat off the rack by the front door.

“Well, Mom’s not here,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t be such a mess if she were!”

“You don’t have to be a mess now.”

“I have to go.” She threw open the door. “I’ll be back later.”

“You promised to help with last minute preps for tomorrow’s dinner,” I reminded her.

“I will. Don’t worry,” she huffed as she stomped outside, slamming the door behind her.

I leaned against the counter, coffee cup cradled in my hands, the steam rising into my face. I closed my eyes, but the tears still came, leaking under my lashes. Time had made coping easier, but some days . . . some days, I just wanted my mom. Those days seemed to come out of nowhere, slamming into me like a speeding bus.

I couldn’t say this one had come completely out of the blue, though. I’d been feeling it creeping up for days, maybe part of that dark energy Addie had warned about. It began about the same time as the inn was officially reopened and preparations made for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving feast and the holiday season. Mom would have loved how the renovations turned out, and how Graysin and I had decorated the entire inn for Christmas, like it was straight out of her favorite holiday movies.

She should have been here for it all.

After I finished my first cup of coffee, I slipped into the bedroom and quietly pulled on my jeans and a hoodie. By the door, I stuffed my feet into my snow boots, pulled on my thick gray coat, a purple, slouchy knit cap, and mittens. I crunched through the snow on the inn’s lawn, poked my head inside to tell Sindi where I was going, and made one more stop at Coffee Haven. A fresh cup of nectar, complete with whipped cream and special sprinkles, steamed in my hands as I walked across town to the cemetery.

Snow blanketed the front section with its precise rows of headstones, well-placed benches, and clusters of neatly trimmed trees. The sidewalks were shoveled and salted, all the way to the back of the human, public part of the grounds. From there, I followed the path already dirty and packed down with footprints to the stone-pillared, arched tunnel that went under Blackstone Road. The other end opened up to an older section that wasn’t cared for in the same meticulous manner as the front, but in its way was much more beautiful and solemn and reverent. This was the section for the Old Families and the supernaturals.

Some of the oldest graves had metal cages over them, to keep the dead in if they should rise again. Runes and other magical symbols were engraved on many tombstones. Colored glass balls and crystals hung from tree branches. One section was a maze of mausoleums, similar to the cemeteries in New Orleans. It was toward the front of this section that I headed, for the Petran family columbarium, but I stopped in my tracks when I saw a tall, broad figure standing in front of the stone building next to it—the Rocas’.

For a moment, I wondered how Xandru had beaten me here when I’d left him sound asleep back at the cottage. Then I realized it wasn’t him.

Tase leaned on one gloved hand pressed against the wall, his other hand tracing his mother’s engraved name. His head hung low, his chin to his chest. A lump rose in my throat, and my chest tightened. I glanced around and over my shoulder, thinking I should leave. He didn’t move, but I knew he’d heard me approach. Just as I heard his low whispers about family and wanting to make her proud and how she should have been around for her children and grandchildren.

My head dropped as renewed tears rolled down my cheeks, splattering onto the dirty snow at my feet. I brushed at them with my mittened hand and turned to leave. Tase deserved privacy for his mourning. Especially from the person responsible.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, causing me to pause. He didn’t yell—he knew he didn’t need to—but he spoke loud enough for me to know his words were meant for my ears. I turned back, but didn’t approach any closer. Tase turned as well, his gaze sliding over me. “I know it’s not.”

I swallowed. “Not everyone believes that. I wonder myself if there was anything I could have done differently.”

He walked toward me. “There wasn’t, Michaela. Even if you had, they would have had to be put down. Xandru and I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“But if the Luna Coven—”

“Our parents were too far gone to be helped. Even Mother.” Tase stopped a few paces in front of me. “They’d hidden it too well until it was too late. All the Luna Coven could have done differently would have been to send them to the Infernum, but that would have been worse than death for them.”

I’d only learned of the Infernum recently—a purgatory worse than Hell where they trapped those supernaturals who were too difficult, or impossible, to kill.

The look on his face . . . the sadness filling his tone . . . I’d never seen this side of Tase before. A more human side. A side that missed his parents as much as I missed mine.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say.

“Don’t be,” he said softly. “You did what you had to do to save yourself, and Aurelia and Gabe. The man and woman . . . who knows how many others? Because of you, my brothers and sisters won’t face our parents’ fate. They won’t all admit it out loud, but they know deep down that you saved them. You were a hero that day, Michaela.”

My breath plumed out on a sharp exhale. “I’m far from a hero.”

“We all know I’m the one to blame. If I hadn’t turned you, your family and my family would be whole right now.”

I shook my head. “Not exactly whole. I wouldn’t be here. I’d be living an entirely different, fake life. I like my life now, Tase. A lot. I like what I see for the future. What Xandru and I talk about as we lay in bed.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s good to know. It really is.”

“The inn is part of that future. Thank you for everything you’ve done for it.” I dropped my gaze, staring at our boots in the snow. “It really was so much more than you needed to.”

He cleared his throat. “Trust me. You deserve it all and then some.”

I looked up at him, into eyes so similar to Xandru’s, yet so much greener than they used to be. Hesitating for only a moment, I reached out and squeezed his arm. “I’ve forgiven you, Tase. I hope someday you can forgive yourself. I hope you have the chance to, before it’s too late.”

His smile deepened. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. More than you could ever know.”

“Family forgives, and we’re family. Maybe not by blood or marriage—”

“Yet,” he interrupted.

I smiled. “Maybe. But even if that never happens, we’ve known each other since birth. Even with all the feuding and grudges, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever. And while our parents had their issues, we don’t have to. We don’t have to carry on with the nonsense.”

“Family, huh? You really want to claim us as family?”

My shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Why not? You’ll certainly keep things interesting. You really want to claim the Petrans?”

He laughed, the sound strange among the silence of the dead. “You’re something else, Kales. Xandru’s lucky to have you. You really would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

He gave my shoulder a return squeeze, then brushed past me, headed toward the tunnel. Before I realized what I was doing, I half turned and called over my shoulder, “You know, Addie would do anything for you. You might want to think about giving it a chance.”

He waved two fingers in the air, acknowledging that he’d heard me, but otherwise didn’t respond. Which was probably for the better, because I had no idea where that had come from. If anyone ever asked, I’d plead temporary insanity.

Then I realized he hadn’t answered my question about accepting the Petrans as family. That was probably answer enough.

“Well, I tried,” I muttered, as I trudged over to our family’s plot. “I hope that didn’t make you roll over in your graves. Of course, you’re cremated, so you really can’t roll over.” I snickered at my stupid joke. “Anyway, I’m trying, Mom and Dad. I know this isn’t the life you wanted for me, but it’s the life I wanted. I’m still so mad at you for what you did, but . . . I hope I can still make you proud, even with the Rocas . . . and with Gabe . . . The inn looks amazing, so there’s that . . .”

I spent over an hour pouring out everything about our lives, and my hopes and fears, and while it wasn’t close to being the same as having Mom’s shoulder to lean on, the release helped. As I left, I thought I saw Aurelia standing on the far side of a tree in the distance, as though waiting her turn.

This part of the cemetery certainly was busy today.