Chapter 6

Kate

“We, ah, have something to tell you.” Tanner isn’t smiling. Not a good sign. He’s been a bit weird since our conversation at the Pink Lady, but he’s never stopped smiling.

This has something to do with the Hag Wytch.

My breath catches before he’s even said anything at all, his hand lifting to touch the brim of his hat. The other men are standing behind him in the living room. They ambushed me on my way out of the laundry room.

Brooks has been doing most of the laundry, but I’m still up for washing my own undergarments. They might be stalkers, but we have some boundaries left.

“I had to rewash those because you packed the machine too full.” Brooks points at me from around Tanner’s back, allowing the other man to bring up the Hag conversation. There has to be a reason for that.

“You—” I look down and realize that he’s right. This is only half of the load because he separated it. He did wash my underwear. With a sigh, I look back at Tanner. “Why are we talking about my panties when there’s Hag shit going on?” I try to sound exasperated with them, but it sounds more like I’m going to laugh.

I might.

I’ve never been this wanted by anyone. Sexually or otherwise. It’s intense.

“Because your panties are always more important?” Tanner does that thing where he transforms his face through sheer force of will, from worried to amused in a second. Whatever happened, it must be really bad. He’s talking about panties because he’s concerned, because he thinks we should utilize every moment available to us to be happy.

“Just rip the bandage off, please ,” Marlowe grinds out, his teeth extra white in the shadows of the foyer. He’s standing farther back than the rest, his hat throwing darkness across his face until all I can see are those teeth. It’s like they’re floating until he steps forward, and the rest of his mean, beautiful face comes into view. “You wanted to do this, so let’s get it over with.”

“Kate is right.” Tanner’s teeth are gritted, and he’s back to being tense. He walked out of the cafe yesterday morning with that same expression. I assume the men took advantage of a rare private moment amongst themselves to talk. “We can’t keep things from her.”

“Keep things …?” I feel like I can’t stand, tossing the laundry basket onto the floor and frowning when the lace panties I tried to wear for Brooks bounce out and land near his feet. He sees them and wets his lips. He should never have handled my panties in a domestic capacity. He can’t handle it. I lift my chin. “What are you keeping from me? A consensual non-consent orgy in our front yard? Oh, wait, already did that. Or hiding the fact that we’d be bound together for eternity? Ah, did that, too.”

“I didn’t say we were bound for eternity. I have no way of knowing that.” A pause from Brooks. “Though it’s likely.”

“The Hag Wytch came here to see you.” Tanner cuts through Brooks’ teasing with a voice like a knife. His eyes are more silver than blue right now. “She called you downstairs with a lullaby and spoke to you.”

He reaches into his pocket and draws out a piece of paper, handing it over to me.

Here’s what it says.

“ Brooks, are you in here with me?”

“ Hey, I’m over here! Let’s meet up.”

My breath hiccups as fear creeps over me like a hand sliding over my shoulder. I keep reading.

“ I’m so fucking lonely. I want her to kill me.”

“ This isn’t real … No, no, it is real!”

“ I can’t—”

Laughter.

I drop the paper and it takes quite a long time to drift to the ground, like something supernatural is keeping it afloat. My hand slides over my stomach, processing the sudden shift to unease. I was fine, and now I’m unsettled. My skin crawls. That line that mentions Brooks … are those the last words of his sister, Sharyn?

“This makes it sound like she’s speaking through a spirit box or something. Is this everything she said? Why wouldn’t I remember that?” I’m breathing hard, but I’m calm.

The Hag Wytch is warning us that she isn’t here, but that she’s on her way. But what’s that line about being lonely? About wanting to die? What the hell is that? Oh, Brooks.

“Could’ve been the lullaby. Maybe the contraceptive spell.” Tanner crooks his fancy brow, split by his scar and pierced. Half black, half gold. I love it. I want to run my finger across it. He flattens his wolf ears, like he can hear my thoughts.

My hat flicks its tongue out to taste him, and he dodges. Quite nimbly.

“Uh-uh. Hell no.” Tanner pauses near the grandfather clock, marked safe from demon hat tongue. My hat’s just shocked the hell out of me though, proving it can stretch its tongue out a good four feet. “You’re not tasting my emotions just now. Listen instead.”

Tanner holds up his hands in a T, like a timeout. I think it’s actually a spell, and he pushes his hands forward and my mind fills with an image of the Hag Wytch, maggots spilling out of her mouth.

“That’s what I saw the other night. Maggots were real. That’s not good.” Tanner puts his inked hands into his pockets. That spell is so cool! I want to learn that! I control myself. If he doesn’t want me to read his emotions, then maybe it’s because he doesn’t need me to get panicked.

I’ll stay calm.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Brooks admits, walking up to stand beside Tanner. Marlowe hangs back, eyeing the other two men with skepticism. If he doesn’t bring up his sister, then I won’t. I want him to talk to me when he’s ready. “We needed to close the gate, and we still do. We’re going tonight, no matter what. It’s just that we thought you should know what happened.”

“What does she want with me?” I wonder, looking at Tanner again. He makes himself smile, but God, it’s an effort. I want to talk to him alone, or as alone as we can possibly be in this house. “Because I’m a woman? Because we’re a full coven?”

“No clue. Doesn’t matter. We know what it is that she wants.” Tanner runs a single finger along the brim of his hat, closing his eyes for a minute. I swear that when he opens them again, they’re bluer. “But it’ll be okay because you have us.” A slightly bigger smile. This one looks more real. “Because of me. We’re sewn together, me and you.”

I already know that. Because he chose to watch me and Brooks make love rather than excuse himself which I could tell he’d have preferred to do. That’s how bad this Hag thing is.

“Thank you for saving my sleep-walking ass from her,” I reply with a smile of my own, reaching out to take Tanner’s arm. He looks down at my fingers and then up at me. He feels like he might break if I keep touching him. I’ll hold on just long enough. “Can we talk in … as close to private as we can get?”

“Cracked doors are fine, just don’t shut it all the way.” Brooks waves his hand and walks off, drawing the paper from the floor, rolling it up, and sliding it into his pocket, all without touching it. Magic. It was all magic.

“Where are you planning on going?” Marlowe holds out an arm, his hat tilting dangerously on one side. There’s a slug on it that he flicks off, knocking it to the floor in a yellow splat. It disintegrates into dirt almost immediately, leaving a little pile.

“Mm. How about the third-floor tower?” I never go up there because it’s cold and drafty and is in desperate need of insulation and repairs. But it’s cool. It’s really fucking cool. It’s my favorite room in the house. When I was in high school, my grandma let me live in there after I begged her. I loved everything about it except the cold and the draft.

“Third-floor tower,” Tanner agrees, spreading his arms to either side. He walks forward, and my hat’s tongue gets him, completely without my consent or knowledge. It flicks him in the neck and fills my mind with emotions. Confusion. Jealousy. Curiosity. “I’ll go with you. I wouldn’t let you go alone if you begged.”

He nudges me toward the stairs with a finger in the center of my back, and I feel that single point of contact like a strike of lightning.

“Then I’ll sit on the steps of the third-floor tower and eavesdrop.” Marlowe yawns and stretches his arms over his head, hoodie sliding up to reveal his navel. The demon wings on his shadow unfurl and cover the walls to either side of him.

You won’t like what you’ll overhear, I think, but I have no choice. I need to get this out there, just in case. If we’re going to try and close the gate tonight, then it can’t wait.

We head up to the second floor and then to the little-used door at the far end of the hallway. It’s locked, so I pull the rusted key off the hook on the wall and use it to open the door.

“It’s so drafty, it has to stay locked or it rattles.” I put the key back and start up the narrow staircase. It’s at an odd angle, too, a little sharper than is comfortable to walk up. We hit the octagonal room at the top, and the wind whistles around a loose window frame.

I turn around and hold out my arms to show the space off. Tanner leans his shoulder against the doorjamb, and he’s smiling in a new way. Different from the other two types I’ve seen already today. It’s a cute smile, like I’ve impressed him somehow.

“You must really like third-floor attic rooms,” I declare, dropping my arms and turning around. From here we have a great view of the bay. Redwood trees to either side of the road, and other cute Victorian houses (all in need of fresh paint jobs).

“You know what I was admiring.” Tanner steps up beside me to look out, putting a hand on the windowsill on either side of me. My heart thumps, and I start to sweat. My cheeks are hot, and I press the knuckles of my right hand against my face. Comparatively, they feel cool.

This is my reaction to him. It’s been there since pretty much moment one, when he walked down the steps in that cottage and said oh. Just like that. I asked him if he was as awful as his friends. He told me that he’d worship me.

He wasn’t lying.

“How do you like this, kitten,” he growls out, pressing me against the wall with his body, head bent low to nuzzle against me. I close my eyes, warming even further at the touch. “Me, doing exactly what I want.”

“I love it,” I whisper back, and he goes completely and utterly still.

“You told me not to be fake, and stop doing what I thought you wanted.” He exhales, and my hair stirs in the warm breeze of his breath. “I only gave you space because it’s what I thought you wanted.” He laughs, lifting one hand and rubbing it over his stubbled mouth. “Fuck. What I want is to not give you space.”

I turn around in the circle of his arms. Behind him, there’s a single desk and an old bookshelf half-filled with random items. Anything but books. It’s all very dusty, and smells like mildew and salt. The light is a diffused silver-gray, a glare from the ocean fog. In the distance, I can hear a boat’s horn. Sometimes I forget we’re that close to the water.

A tsunami here would be really bad. Earthquakes suck. I don’t care because the beauty of living here is worth the price.

Tanner’s beauty is worth the price. I lift my hand and press it to the side of his face.

“I’m so sorry, Tanner.” My voice is light, my feet shifting and stirring dust motes. He widens his eyes, like he has no idea where this is going. His wolf ears are completely flat. “Something happened to me when I met you. I … think I was into you from moment one.” I tuck some hair behind my ears, just for something to do.

My hat tries to lick him again, but I snatch the tongue in a fist, forcing it back to the edge of the brim. I don’t want to know his feelings until I’m done talking or I might lose the bravery required.

“You were into me from moment one?” he repeats, like he has no idea how to respond to that.

I make myself hold his stare, forcing the words out as quickly as I can.

“I told myself it couldn’t be real, that you were fake. I was in love with something fake. I also knew you weren’t going to be ready, and I sprung all that shit on you anyway.” I hold up a hand when he tries to talk, my tattoo catching the light. A moth with long tails made of spiderwebs. A moon with horns. An upside-down triangle with a slash through it. “You can’t know how I want to be loved if I don’t show you. So I’ll do it. I’ll teach you what it means to be loved.”

I’ve been looking at it the wrong way. I’ve been upset with Tanner, and that was a huge mistake. I swallow down the emotions.

“You keep saying that you fucked up,” I continue, “but this one’s on me. I fucked this up.” I tell him all of this with complete confidence. I’ve been thinking about it for days on repeat, how I pushed him to his breaking point on purpose.

“You know.” Tanner wets his lips, shifting his eyes away from mine. He looks out the window toward the water. “You’re right. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here.” He closes his eyes and keeps them closed. “I’ve never loved anyone. Not a single person. I was starting to question if I was even capable of it.” He laughs, but his eyes stay closed. “My dad absolutely, one-hundred percent was not. Did I tell you that to this day, I believe he murdered my mom? No proof though.”

The only response that feels appropriate is for me to throw my arms around his waist and squeeze him. Tanner is so surprised that he stumbles back, thighs hitting the edge of the old desk. He sits down, and the wood creaks, but it’s solid. I can just hear Brooks saying they don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

I press my cheek against Tanner’s chest, spotting Marlowe out of the corner of my eye. One dark iris in the shadows of the cracked door. Mushrooms glitter on the edge of his hat brim as he turns away, and I hear the stairs creaking as he descends them.

“I can teach you,” I whisper as Tanner lifts his fingers, running them through my hair. “I’m sorry that I called you a liar for trying at something you’ve never done before. That wasn’t well thought out. It’s just that … you were a love at first sight thing for me, I think? I’ve been questioning my judgment.”

Tanner tilts his head back and gets caught staring up at the ceiling. I try to scoot back, but his arms tighten around me, holding me in place. I crane my neck as best as I can and then wish I hadn’t. There’s a perfect purple web on the octagonal ceiling above us. It’s a good ten or twelve feet up, and there’s no spider, but there is a glittery moth thrashing in the webbing.

We look back at each other.

“I’ve never been loved by anyone either,” he admits, drawing in a deep breath. His hands settle on my hips, and then he scoots back on the desk and drags me into his lap. I put my arms around his neck, our hats crinkled together and blocking some of that austere gray light. “I probably don’t deserve it, but I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll earn it eventually.”

There’s a long space of silence, the room creaking around us. I hear a sound in the walls, a light scratching. Tanner’s right wolf ear swivels in that direction.

“We’ve got Witchwoods mice,” he says, as if he didn’t just tell me something completely profound a second ago.

“Oh. I’ll get the cat in here then.” I look down at his chest, at the rapid rise and fall of his breath. He’s definitely feeling something right now. I allow my hat to lick him and discover an alluring mix of lust and affection. It licks him again, and the feeling warms and blossoms, pushing against me and making me just as hot as the emotion I can taste on the back of my tongue.

Is it possible we both had a weird initial reaction to each other? If so, we’re both fighting against it because we refuse to believe that it’s real.

“You’re not telling me all of this stuff just so I’ll leave you alone, are you? You know you aren’t going anywhere without me for the rest of your natural life.” Tanner works his jaw and pushes me gently off his lap, even though I can see that he’s hard for me.

“I’m sorry that you’d even think that.” I take a few steps back, turn, and then push open one of the windows. Putting my hands up on the windowsill, I step on the underside of an overturned metal bucket with my purple and black striped sock and swing my leg up.

Tanner is right there, collecting me around the waist and dragging me back, tucking me against him.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” he asks, and I get hot everywhere. Literally everywhere. My knuckles aren’t cool against my face. Every part of my body is on fire.

“It’s easy to climb onto the roof from here, watch the ocean. I even have a plastic chair up there.” I glance over my shoulder, but he doesn’t relax his grip at all. “I’ve been up there a million times. I won’t fall.”

“We have the protection spell, sure, but I’m not about letting you crawl around on the roof when you’re being hunted by a bird.” Tanner releases me, but I can tell that if I go for the window again, he’ll grab me.

I pretend that I’ve lost interest, wandering away and stirring up more dust.

His eyes follow me. What was it that he said? That he looks for me more frequently than the urge to breathe?

“Do you guys talk about me when you sign? Like do you tell each other how jealous you are or something like that?” I asked him to be honest with me, but somehow I don’t believe he’ll answer this truthfully until he does.

“All the time. I don’t like the way they treat you. Reminds me of my dad.” Tanner’s jaw is set now, and his eyes are as cold as the gray glare from outside the window. He walks after me, just a few slow steps behind. “Marlowe broke your hand and he lost you to the tree. If I didn’t owe him such a huge debt, he’d be in the red right now. As it stands, I think we’re even.”

The door creaks open and there’s Marlowe, standing right there.

The pair of them look at each other.

“You’re right. I fucked up with Kate. A lot.” A tight, mean smile from Lo. “But I’m done with that. She knows that I’m in love with her.”

I choke on that, hands at my throat. Um. What?

Tanner shoves the desk out of his way, the old feet scraping across the floor. He steps close to Marlowe, and I wish one of them would use that spell from downstairs to show me their very first impressions of one another.

“And you know that she’s in love with me?” Tanner asks, and Marlowe nods, dragging the brim of his hat down. “Good.” Tanner grins and pats Lo on the shoulder, earning a scowl for the effort. “Then get the fuck out.” He gestures with his chin in the direction of the door. “We’re not done in here.”

I gape at him, and I swear that Marlowe might hit him.

He doesn’t.

“You’re fucking lucky, ” Marlowe hisses back at Tanner. Their shadows are both arched up and over the ceiling, blackening out the dying moth with sharp claws and teeth. “I’m not allowed to be jealous, because of what I did. So go ahead and act like an asshole all by yourself.”

He turns and his shadow sweeps the room like a cloak, the old hinges protesting as he shoves past the door, his boots loud on the steps again. He left once and came back. He might do it again. It’s hard to resist drifting toward your coven members, an invisible hand beckoning us closer to one another.

Tanner’s shadow turns to look at me before he does, and then it’s right there in front of me.

It’s his shadow that grabs me by the shoulders, putting the sinuous length of that demon tongue into my mouth. He consumes me with a kiss that isn’t a kiss. I’m wide-eyed and frozen in place, but not because I don’t like it.

That tongue is warm, familiar, commanding.

That tongue belongs to Tanner.

His shadow releases my mouth, but it isn’t done with me yet. I see a grin break on its face, an empty space in the voluminous black that I can see through, straight to the window that leads to the backyard.

“Listen to me, Kate.” Tanner throws a look over his shoulder, but he doesn’t move. His shadow is shoving at my hoodie, pushing it up my chest and revealing my breasts. With its other hand, it drags my sweatpants down. I swallow around my emotions, peering at the darkness in front of me, two tails wrapping around me and locking us in an eerie embrace.

Then, across the room, there’s Tanner in his hat, with the light right on him and absolutely no shadow at all attached to his body.

“I’m listening.” My voice is a husky whisper, and my heart is a Witchwoods hummingbird made of glass. The moth dies above us, shedding glitter across our hair. His and mine. It filters through the shadow without touching it.

“The only position I have that trumps pleasing you is keeping you near me. Because by keeping you near me, I can keep you safe.” He walks up to the window that I opened and slams it shut. His shadow reaches out and snags the desk, dragging it back to us.

I’m put over the end of that desk, hands behind my back, the toes of my striped socks barely touching the floor. My cheek is to the wood as I peer at Tanner, turning around in front of the wall of windows, barely more than a silhouette himself. He watches my expression as his shadow fits something hot and hard between my thighs. A cock.

My eyes flick to the doorway and there’s an antlered shadow right there, watching us. Brooks.

Tanner’s shadow pushes into me, and I snatch onto the edge of the desk to keep calm. How the hell is he doing this? With a sharp thrust of its hips, the shadow pushes all the way inside of me and Tanner lifts his chin, pulse in his neck throbbing.

I’m being fucked by his shadow, slammed into the desk as those tails slip around my body and find my nipples. They tease their angular tips against the pink peaks before one of them slithers down to find my clit.

I’m so wet that I’m dripping.

“You fell in love with me at first sight?” Tanner clarifies, almost meanly. “Say it.”

“I’m in love with you,” I admit, and it feels good to get the words out, even if they’re terrifying. I want him to love me back, and he doesn’t because he doesn’t know how to do that. He’s trying. Just like he told me.

He exhales and reaches down to cup himself through his pants as his shadow rails me on the desk, deepening the dent in the wall that it’s pressed against.

“The only way I know how to express myself is through sex. So sex is what I’m going to give you. Sex and obsession, Kate. It’s what I want. I only have one focus.” Tanner walks around the desk while undoing his pants. He steps into his shadow, and then suddenly his cock is entering me. It’s not like his shadow ever pulls out, just that he fills its shape, takes it space.

I cry out, covered in glitter from above, hoodie up and pants down. Tanner’s hands are warm and welcome on my skin as he grabs hold of me, those double tails still doing their thing at his behest.

He enters me, hips to ass, and then just stands there, thinking.

“If the Hag Wytch gets out, I’ll be tempted to leave her here. We can close the gate and live in the Witchwoods together. Just so long as you’re safe. I’ll give up the modern world in a second. ”

He means what he’s saying.

It might not be an I love you like I wanted to hear, but it’s too soon for that. I shouldn’t be saying that to him either, but the trauma and the danger and the intensity of each moment we spend together, it drags it right out of me.

Tanner is charming and handsome and charismatic, and he had me from the very first second that we met. I shouldn’t have let him get me that easy, because I know I’m being intentionally wooed. I know that. It doesn’t matter.

If that statement—let the world die so we can live in peace—isn’t some form of I love you then nothing is. I can wait for the rest.

He wraps my hair around his hand, yanks me back until I’m up on my palms, and rides me until his shadow is bursting over my skin like ink. I can feel it all, his twitching hips and the warm seed dripping down my thighs. His shadow, melting across my skin like warm oil.

Magic.

We’re both glowing again. We glowed together from that very first morning.

Because, as scared as we both were, we both found exactly what we wanted in the woods that night.

Brooks and Marlowe hesitated, even if only for a second.

Tanner did not.

Of course I fell completely and utterly in love with him first.

“You keep telling me that you love me until I earn it. I’ll keep listening to you say it until I believe it.” He slides out of me, steps back, and waits for me to turn around on shaky limbs until I’m sitting on the end of that desk with him oozing out between my thighs. “Deal?”

“If you’re honest with me, we’ll have nothing to worry about.” I drag my hoodie down to cover my breasts and he shakes his head at me, smirking.

“Swear to God, you keep saying that because you can see how much it pisses me off.” He takes another step toward me, forcing my knees open with his hands. He’s pulled his jeans up, but he presses our crotches together anyway, getting his denim wet. “But fine. Push all my buttons. See what falls out.”

“Marlowe and Brooks—” I’m going to ask him to give them some credit. It took them a few seconds longer to break, but they both came for me, too. I want Tanner to enjoy their company and vice versa, not for any of them to fight.

Tanner covers my mouth with his hand and then shakes his head.

“Nope. Don’t want to hear it.” He smiles and drops his hand, revealing the frown on my face. “I already know that they’re redeemable. If not, I wouldn’t care about the coven. I’d kill ‘em both and take you for myself.”

He is absolutely serious.

Tanner holds out his hand, and I take it, hopping off the end of the desk and stumbling a little until he catches me. I look up and he looks down, and I can see in his face that he knows how compatible we are.

He wants to chase me, and I want to be chased.

This should be fun, seeing what happens when he lets himself catch me.

He’s a much better hunter than I am.

“Something happen up there that I should know about?” Brooks asks, the eyes on his face closed while the ones on his hat dart over to stare at us.

Tanner is right fucking behind me as I slip into the kitchen, and when I turn a look over my shoulder, he’s freezing cold. And then red hot. A smile replaces his frown, and I know that whatever I’ve unleashed, it’s going to be glorious.

Brooks sips a cup of tea in his usual spot while Marlowe perches on the edge of the counter, arms crossed, expression thoughtful. That’s not what I expected to find when we came down here. I thought he’d be pissed.

“Kate is in love with Tanner.” Marlowe blurts it out, and I trip, nearly falling into the side of the fridge. It’s Tanner’s firm hand on my elbow that keeps me upright. His shadow tilts its head at me, forked tongue flicking out to taste my own creeping silhouette.

“Why would you even say that?” I groan, extricating myself from Tanner and turning to meet Brooks’ ivy-green eyes as he cracks them open. He frowns at me around his tea cup and the big eye on his hat droops at the corners.

“What’s wrong with saying it, if it’s true?” Marlowe cocks a brow, but I ignore him and I especially ignore Tanner, slumping into my chair and knowing that in a few, short hours we’ll be in the woods. I steal Brooks’ discarded spoon and peer into it.

The Hag Wytch is looking back at me.

“It’s true,” I admit, and Tanner breathes out a laugh. He folds that hunter’s body of his into a chair, staring at me. “But that doesn’t mean you have to bring it up.” I throw a mean look over my shoulder as Marlowe slides off the edge of the counter, boots hitting the floor with a thump.

His black eyes burn as he joins us, completing our circle.

“Marlowe, heat up the tea water and make Kate a cup.” Brooks doesn’t miss a beat, sipping his tea as he looks over at Tanner. “And congratulations.”

Tanner flashes a grin, folding his arms. His shadow looks triumphant, dancing across the walls of our kitchen.

“It works great, by the way. The shadow thing.” Tanner watches Marlowe as the man gets up with a scowl, jerking the boiling tea kettle off the stove and pouring a cup. He dumps some loose leaf directly into it, watches it seep, and then swirls his hand. The water with the tea leaves lifts out, depositing itself onto a folded paper towel.

I’m given the cup with a thump and a little spillover. The honey is tossed down beside me, and Marlowe reclaims his seat.

“The shadow thing.” Brooks doesn’t clarify. He seems to know exactly what Tanner’s talking about, and I blush. “You fucked her with your shadow?” He sounds jealous. Lovely.

Marlowe is gaping.

“Could you feel it?” he asks, and I can’t decide if his question is for me or Tanner or both of us.

I plunk a generous dollop of wildflower honey into my tea and then stare at the spoon, trying to get it to stir on its own. How do I do that? One of these small magics.

“Admit an uncomfortable truth to yourself,” Brooks barks, pointing at me. “Inside your head. Admit something to yourself, and think about the spoon stirring.”

“I have to admit an uncomfortable truth just to stir my tea? I’ll do it the old-fashioned—” I stop talking because the spoon is clinking around the cup, and I can’t decide if I’m the one that’s doing it or if somebody else is.

“That was me,” Tanner murmurs, voice husky and dark. “And yeah, I could feel it.”

I pick up my mug and take a sip, confident that Marlowe will have already cooled it to an acceptable level of heat. He has. Not too cold, not too hot. Perfect. It’s perfect. I curl my striped toes together under the table.

“I was talking to Kate.” Marlowe turns to me and leans in, elbow on the table. “What was the dick like?”

“I’m done with this conversation. Why don’t we shelve it until after we seal the gate?” I try to sip rudely, the way Brooks does. It’s an art, to be a self-righteous ass with a single drink of tea.

“Did the shadow orgasm? If it did, what came out?” Marlowe is seriously asking these questions, and I have no idea what to say.

“Magic,” Tanner answers for me with a dreamy sigh. “It’s like my magic was seeping into Kate.”

“Alright, plans for tonight?” I say loudly, ignoring the way Tanner bumps my leg purposefully beneath the table. “Or we can talk about your guys’ relationship instead.”

“I’d rather not.” Marlowe.

“No.” Tanner.

Brooks sighs and sets his mug down.

“Good to know that my theories about the shadows are panning out.” His looms up behind him, antlers thrown up across the ceiling. Too big. Too dark. All consuming.

“Nice rack,” I tell him, giving my boobs a squeeze. It’s intended as a joke, but Brooks only wets his lips and lets his gaze rake my cleavage. All of his gazes, in fact. His hat is ogling me, too.

“Right back at you,” he replies, and I release my tits as quickly as I grabbed them. Marlowe is studying me with a level of introspection that I find surprising. Did he … confess his love to me upstairs? It was a lot of heaviness all at once.

Seems like Marlowe and I could use a private moment to talk as well. Tanner scrubs a hand over his jaw, peering between the two of us.

Brooks sits back, pushing his hat brim out of his face. “Let’s talk about tonight.” His gaze slips to mine. “Let’s talk about that tree. If someone appears and throws their hand into it, what are you going to do?”

“Depends on who it is.” I’m teasing, but sort of not. Brooks stares at me, and I sigh. “Fine. We’ll talk it out. How does that sound? Better?”

“Yes, and no. If something happens, what are you going to do?” Brooks repeats, and I roll my eyes.

“Throw myself at Tanner.” It’s meant to be flippant, but it doesn’t come out that way.

“Yeah.” That’s a husky rasp, stolen from a tight jaw and dark eyes. Tanner takes my mug, sets it down, and then uses my wrist to drag me into his lap. “That’s it, kitten. You’ve got the right idea.”

“You’re going to listen to orders is what you’re going to do.” Brooks’ spoon is stirring itself, so I guess he just admitted an uncomfortable truth, huh? “All three of you.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s a joke, coming from Tanner. His face nuzzles into the crook of my neck, and the fine hairs on my skin stand straight up. “Say it again for me, kitten,” he growls, and I know he means for the other two to hear that.

My eyes meet Marlowe’s, and I can’t look away. I can’t. I’m trapped there. He’s waiting to see if I’ll do it, if I’ll say it.

“I’m in love with Tanner,” I admit, and the kitchen goes quiet but for the click, click, click of Brook’s metal spoon. As it spins past, I catch sight of the Hag again.

“Suppose we better go unwrap dear ol’ dad, eh?” Tanner bites onto the side of my neck, and I almost scream. He probably would’ve loved it.

Marlowe breathes out a strong sigh, tearing his hat off and tossing it onto the counter. My own hat is quivering, desperate to reach out and lick him, taste his emotions and see what he’s feeling. I try to tell it no with my thoughts, but I’m not sure how any of this works. Can I make the hat listen? Does it have free will?

Lo drags quivering fingers through his hair, letting his head fall back and his eyes close.

“God, I can’t wait until you fall in love with me, too.” He stands up suddenly, chair scraping across the floor, and he flees into the foyer before I can respond. “There are maggots for sure,” he shouts back and Tanner sighs.

“Better get the broom and dustpan then,” he comments, as if those maggots didn’t come off of his dad’s dead body.

“Keep ‘em. Good for spellwork.” Brooks stands up and waves his hand, sending his mug safely into the sink without touching it. His eyes catch mine. “Want to learn how to do that, too? Be a good girl for me tonight, and I’ll show you later.”

He walks out, following Marlowe into the garage.

Leaving me alone with Tanner.

“He’s talented, even if he is a domineering prick,” I whisper, but Tanner’s arms are tightening around my middle and he’s holding me so close that I don’t dare move. My hands settle over his, laced together across my tummy.

“Learn from him, and I’ll learn from you,” Tanner says, and that’s it. My skin, previously untouched and totally nonchalant, turns a brilliant red. “Show me what it means to be loved, Kate. Seems like you have more than enough for all three of us.”

He kisses my head and stands up, taking me with him.

In the garage, I find the zombie, tarp unfurled, stinking like hell and standing amongst a wriggling pile of fat white bodies. Not normal maggots. Witchwoods maggots.

Brooks is unscrewing one of my grandma’s mason jars, picking one up and dropping it inside. I roll my lips against a wave of nausea.

First, sacrificial offerings in her cast-iron. Now, arcane insects in her glassware. What ordinary object will we defile next? One of Gram’s embroidered dish towels? One of her cupcake pans? I know what these guys can do with brooms, and it isn’t PG.

“Alright, Pop, you ready for this final journey, you mean bastard?” Tanner takes me down the steps into the neatly organized garage (thanks, Lo). He walks right up to the swaying corpse, held upright by an antlered shadow and one with wings.

Then he spits on it, and I’m not sure that’s for magic.

I think that’s just because.

“You know this spell requires the corpse of a man who killed at least three people, right?” Brooks clarifies, but like he already knows the answer. Marlowe folds his arms to watch as I wait just a single step behind Tanner.

His stalking tendencies are quadrupled now, thanks to my big mouth. Bed made, must sleep in it.

“I know.” That’s all that Tanner says, smiling beatifically as he turns and stares down the corpse’s shuttered rot-black eyes. I think they’re glued shut? Isn’t that what they do during embalming? “At least being the key word.”

Poor Tanner. Oh, Tanner. My heart breaks for him as he holds a cavalier smile on his face.

Lo notices and turns away, like he can’t handle seeing his aggressor reveal his humanity.

“Well then.” Brooks nods, like that’s that.

We double check to make sure the foreboding spell is still working, have Ebon search for drones, and then Brooks dumps the last of the disinterest spell powder on the zombie’s comb-over.

Please, please, please don’t let anyone see us with a zombie.

Can you imagine what the Internet would do with this one?