Bonus Chapter

Gretchen

M aking candy isn't as fun as it would seem. Even with magic involved. Toiling over a hot stove, I check my first candy thermometer, then the second, and third. I have multiple batches of candy going for multiple orders all at once and keeping it all straight is enough to make my head spin.

"Hey, Gretchen?" I hear my twin Gertrude say, breaking into my concentration.

Biting back a curse, I look up from my work. "Yeah, Gertrude?"

"Can you watch the shop for a bit? Vlad's come to take me to lunch."

My own stomach gurgles at the mention of a meal, reminding me that I haven't eaten yet today. I smother another sigh. I know that Gertrude doesn't mean anything by it and I'm happy that she finally has a boyfriend who is worthy of her, but damn, she interrupts my flow constantly to ask me to watch her potion shop, Eye of Newt.

"Fine," I say, trying to sound chipper but it comes out more annoyed than I would like.

"Thanks," she says. "I'll be back soon. I owe you."

Then she's gone and I'm setting some timers on the candy so they don't overcook while I'm up front. The truth is that I owe Gertrude a lot. She lets me run my candy business out of her back room and doesn't charge me any rent for it, which is super generous. I wouldn't be able to afford rent on my apartment if I also had to pay for a workspace and I'd never be able to save up any money for a downpayment on my own shop, that's for sure.

Heading out to the front, the timers all set, I tie on the potion shop's apron and stand behind the counter. There's not a lot of customers this time of year, our busy season having ended at Halloween, but we still get the odd order for a Glamour Potion or a Warmth Brew for anyone going to visit the perpetually-snowing Christmas Neighborhood.

The door jingles as the front bell rings.

"Welcome to Eye of Newt," I say dutifully, "How can I help you today?"

"Hi, Gertrude!" says Brunhilda, another potion witch in the neighborhood. "How's business? How's Vlad?"

This again. Gertrude and I are identical twins and since she's the more out-going one everyone always mistakes me for her at first.

"Everything's fine," I answer cagily. It's not worth it usually to correct people. They get embarrassed and start making excuses. It's a whole thing, so I usually just try to avoid it.

"Well, great," Brunhilda says, not really caring about the answer to her small-talk questions. "I'm here for my ingredient order."

That I can take care of. I head over to the shelves that have all the prepared orders and fetch Brunhilda's order. It's fairly heavy, but is already double-bagged and ready to go. I haul it over to her and she hands me the money for it. Typing the total into the register, I make her change and hand it over.

"Great, thanks Gertrude," she smiles at me.

I smile weakly back. "Sure. Come again soon."

She exits the shop and I breathe a sigh of relief. I much prefer my own company than being around strangers and even though it's a small village and pretty much everyone in a neighborhood knows everyone that doesn't mean that I actually know anyone. I only have a few friends, my twin and my older sister, Beatrix, being at the top of the list.

The bell jingles again and I screw on another smile. "Welcome to Eye of Newt . . ."

"Gretchen?" the new arrival asks. "What are you doing behind the counter?"

It's Nick. My heart melts a little. He's my other oldest friend and never mistakes me for Gertrude.

"Hey Nick," I greet, my smile more genuine. "Gertrude's out to lunch with Vlad, so I'm minding the shop."

"Again? Who's watching your candy?" he asks with a worried frown.

"I have them on magic timers," I reassure him. "The cauldrons will pull themselves off the stove when they're ready."

"Still," he says, "isn't it better when you watch them yourself?"

"It's more fool-proof, but someone has to watch the shop," I remind him.

"She's been leaving you alone a lot lately," Nick says. "You really should talk to her about it." Nick is always trying to get me to stand up for myself more, but most of the time I just prefer to keep the peace.

"I don't mind," I lie. "It's part of our deal."

"Still . . ." frowns the Christmas elf.

"Drop it, Nick," I tell him firmly. "I'm helping my sister, simple as that."

"If you say so, Gretchen."

"I do say so," I say. Changing the subject so that he can't press about me confronting Gertrude, I announce, "You're just in time, though. I have a new creation for you to try."

Nick brightens. "Really? You've invented a new candy?"

Christmas elves tend to have sweet tooths and Nick is no exception. He loves being my taste tester.

"Yup," I tell him. "It happened by accident last night, but now I can't stop eating them. I think that I'll add them to my order form if you like them too."

"Lay them on me," he says, pulling up a stool to the counter. Reaching in my pocket, I pull out a wax paper bag and unroll it, pulling out a candy that looks like a three-dimensional star.

"Pretty," he remarks. "But how do they taste?"

"You'll see," I say, handing it over.

Without hesitation, Nick pops the sweet into his mouth. His eyes go wide. "Is that . . ?"

"Peppermint?" I grin. "Oh, yeah. I used the extract you brought me last time."

He sucks on it some more. "And is that . . ."

"Ginger and watermelon," I confirm. "It shouldn't work, but it does, right?"

"It does," Nick says, wonder in his voice.

"The center is chewy," I tell him. "Give it a crunch."

He bites through the hard candy coating with an audible crack and then closes his eyes as he chews.

"Do you like it?" I ask nervously. "I . . ."

"Shh . . ." he hushes me. "I'm experiencing it."

I laugh a little at how serious he sounds. Like tasting my candy is something that deserves gravitas.

When he finishes, he opens his eyes and sends me a devastating smile. The kind of smile that could give witch ideas if I didn't know that he sees me like a sister.

"What are you calling them?"

I shake my head. "You know I'm terrible at naming things. But I'm thinking of something like tropical chewbers. I'll make some more with different fruit bases, like mango or papaya, but keep the peppermint and ginger the same."

My best friend nods thoughtfully. "This totally clinches it. You are a candy genius and I happen to be in need of a candy genius."

"What?" I ask, confused. "What do you mean?"

He reaches across the counter and takes my hand. My stupid heart starts beating a mile a minute at the contact, longing filling my head, even though I know that he's just a touchy-feely person and doesn't mean anything by it.

"Gretchen Nightshade," he says with a smile. "How would you like to save Christmas?"