Page 14 of The Heartbreak Hex

I think about it, but then still shake my head in utter dejection. “With a potion made from goddess thread, who knows what those conditions will be? There’s no easy way to find out before Halloween and I can’t just keep shadowing you at work all the time and leave Gretchen to handle the shop. It’s just not feasible!”

“Let’s not let pessimism sneak into the situation, alright?” says Vlad, tightening the arm around my shoulders. “We’ll figure something out.”

His wordsdomake me feel better and I can’t help but lean into his side, soaking up the comfort of his embrace. “Alright, you’re right. We’ll figure something out.”

Then a thought occurs to me that makes me blush. “Umm . . . Vlad . . . if we can't break this curse tonight, what are we going to do about sleeping arrangements? We can’t go far enough apart to sleep separately.”

Vlad goes still at my side and I worry for a moment that I’ve offended him, but when he answers his tone is light and easy. “How about we go to my place? I have a king-size bed. We can sleep on opposite sides. It’ll be fine.”

That sounds reasonable, but something inside me can’t help but feel a little . . . disappointed. Sleeping in close quarters with Vlad, whom I’ve been crushing on for so long . . . but no, once again I need the reminder that Vlad is here because of some ridiculous potion that I made, not because he wants to be.

“Sounds good,” I answer. “The mayor’s mansion, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not too far from here. If we fly, we should be there in five minutes or so.”

Once again I feel my face heat at the thought of flying with Vlad, but I ruthlessly squash down those feelings.

“Ok, let’s head to your place.”

Chapter 7

Vlad

Landing on my bedroom balcony at the mayor’s mansion, with Gertrude in my arms, has long been a fantasy of mine. After so long of living alone, having the witch with me makes it truly feel like coming home. Gently setting her down, I open the balcony door, which I always leave unlocked, and we step into my dark room. Snapping my fingers, the magic candles around the room light, bathing the chamber in a warm glow. Vampires tend to prefer candlelight, our eyes being sensitive to bright light.

Gertrude looks beautiful in the candlelight. But, then, when doesn't she look beautiful? She looks around curiously and I’m suddenly self-conscious about my room. It’s fairly utilitarian, with dark walls, some generic artwork my interior designer recommended, and the large king bed in the middle of the far wall. The candles lend it some soft ambiance, but I mentally compare it to Gertrude's lush and cozy room from this morning and know that mine feels cold and spartan in comparison.

It needs a woman’s touch,I decide.Gertrude’s touch.I’d gladly let her re-decorate my whole house if it meant that she was living here. Withme.

“I always heard that the mayor’s mansion was haunted,” she finally says, surprising me. “But it doesn't look that way to me.”

“It is,” I say. “In a way. The building has a level of sentience. It sleeps most of the time, but it can do some surprising things sometimes.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, moving furniture, messages in foggy windows, pelting things at unwanted guests, the usual.”

Gertrude’s lips quirk. “The usual, eh? Having a living house isn’t very usual, even in Holiday Village. I guess I’ll just have to hope that I’m not unwanted.”

“Far from it,” I smile. “I’m betting the house will like you.”

Looking around some more, Gertrude declares, “Well it’s very nice. Very neat.”

The shutters quiver a little outside at the windows and I smile again.

“See, I told you it would like you,” I tease. “Right now it’s a very nice house, but it needs more personalization. I just don't have a lot of time for things like that.”

“Youarebusy,” she agrees. “I couldn’t believe everything you had going on and there wasn’t even a City Council meeting today.”

“No City Council on a Holiday Week,” I say. “The mayor of any neighborhood is going to be busy the week of their respective holiday, so it’s easier to just not meet.”

“That’s a relief,” she says. “I was trying to figure out how we’d explain me having to sit with you up on the council dais. I thought we’d end up having to tell the whole village about my screw-up.”

“I’d never let you be embarrassed,” I declare firmly. “You have to know that. I’d think of something. You shouldn’t be publicly shamed because of a mistake.”

“A drunken mistake,” she mutters.

“Hey, stop being so hard on yourself Gertrude,” I chide, stepping toward her. “You were having a hard time dealing with a break up. We’ve all been there.”

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