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  Reaching into my pocket, I removed a strip of cloth, dangling it in front of her. “Because I’m going to blindfold you, so turn around.”

  She bit her lip for a second, staring at me before turning her back toward me. “It’s a good thing I trust you,” she mumbled as I slipped the silk around her eyes, tying it securely in a knot behind her head.

  Quickly, I opened the trunk and grabbed out a large canvas bag full of items, shouldering them, before guiding Portia’s hands to my elbow. “Grab hold here. I promise to guide you, just hang on to me.”

  “How far are we going?” she questioned, and despite her smile, I could still hear the concern in her voice.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not too far, we should be there in a couple of hours.”

  She stiffened. “A couple of hours?”

  I laughed again. “Did I say hours? I meant a couple of steps.”

  “You’re such a tease.” She pinched my arm through my leather jacket.

  “Wow. Getting abusive with me already,” I teased.

  “That’s what happens to liars.”

  “Liars?”

  “Well, yeah. You’ve lied to me twice tonight.”

  “Twice? You must have been eating too much Halloween candy. I think you’re hallucinating.”

  She snorted. “You lied when you said it was two hours, and then again when you said it was a couple of steps. We’ve clearly gone much farther than that.”

  “Well, baby. Aren’t you just the smart, angelic one?” Grinning, I guided her around a fallen log.

  “Angel—that’s me. It’s my costume tonight.” She giggled.

  “Hmmm. I don’t know quite how I feel about this. I really like my sweet witch.”

  “So I’ve heard.” She patted my arm.

  “Okay, stop right here.” I quickly unfolded a canvas chair for her to sit in and guided her into it. “Keep the blindfold on. I need to set up a few things and then you can join me.”

  Pausing for a moment, I surveyed the old, abandoned cabin in front of me. It did seem a bit on the creepy side under the circumstances, but that was exactly what I was going for. I hurried inside and quickly began pulling the tops off of the dozens carved jack-o-lanterns stacked all about the room, leaving only a small patch of the dirt floor in the center. I’d been working on carving this, giving them all kinds of expressions, for two days now, with some help from Marsha too. As soon as the lids were off, I closed my eyes and used my magic to light the candles inside them all and soon the room was aglow with crazy pumpkin faces.

  Grabbing the canvas bag, I pulled out a small collapsible table and assembled it, covering it with an orange and black tablecloth. Setting the extra chair beside it, I quickly grabbed the cauldron I’d left here an hour ago and put it on the table.

  “Vance?” Portia’s voice called to me as I carefully check the ingredients in the cauldron finding them at the perfect blend.

  “Almost ready!” I shouted back, hurrying to slip into my ritual robe and pulling the cowl over my head. “Okay! You can take the blindfold off now. Don’t forget to bring your chair in with you.”

  I heard her giggle. “Where are we? And why does it smell like pumpkin?”

  “You’ll have to come inside and find out.”

  “This isn’t a bad setup, like Hansel and Gretel, is it? You aren’t going to eat me or anything are you?”

  I groaned. Damn that girl! She had a bad way of making me get turned on instantly. “Absolutely. I plan to devour every tiny piece of you.”

  She appeared in the doorway, glancing wide-eyed at all the flaming jack-o-lanterns, her jaw dropping, until she noticed me in my cowl stirring my pot of brew as foggy smoke billowed out. Covering her mouth, she burst out laughing.

  “What is all this?” She gestured around.

  “Isn’t it obvious? It’s Halloween. This is how witches celebrate. Now bring your chair to the table and come drink some of my special poison.” I added a cackle for good measure.

  Laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes, Portia made her way to the table, sitting across from me.

  “I can’t believe you carved all these pumpkins. There must be sixty of them!” She leaned in closer, and giggled again. “This one looks sick. He’s throwing up his insides.”

  “Yeah, I told him not to eat all the seeds, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “So, what is in the pot?” she asked, eyeing it carefully.

  Shaking my head, I slipped my cowl off my head so I could look at her better. “Portia, Portia, Portia. What kind of witch will you ever be if you call this a pot? It’s a cauldron, baby.”

  She rolled her eyes heavily. “Whatever,” she replied, obviously not caring for my lecture. “What’s in it?”

  “Something dangerous and serious; you’ll need to drink it with great care so it won’t harm you.” Removing the chalices from the bag, I poured some of the smoking liquid into both cups. “Hamana, gamano, levito moriana,” I chanted, waving my hands mysteriously over them before handing one to her. “Remember, drink slowly.”

  She stared at the foggy mixture and quickly downed the contents.

  “What are you doing?” I exclaimed in fake horror.

  “Drinking homemade root beer,” she replied with an innocent smile. “You didn’t really think you were fooling me did you? I could smell it a mile away.”

  “Well, damn . . . I mean, dang. I was hoping the pumpkin would mask the smell and that my fake spell would throw you off.” I chuckled and joined her, tossing the delicious contents of my cup down my throat. “I still have one more surprise for you.”

  Placing two large, frosted, sugar cookies in the shape of a witch on the table, I handed the one with my name written on it to her, and took the one with her name.

  “Hey. You have my cookie,” she protested, reaching for it, but I yanked it out of her grasp. “This is my cookie. I told you I was going to devour you tonight.” Glancing down, I studied the cookie, with its pointed hat. “Now where should I start?” Seductively, I ran the tip of my tongue across the frosting. “Mmm. I knew you’d taste good.” I carefully bit into the pointy hat part.

  “Really?” She arched an eyebrow and lifted her “Vance” cookie, devouring him from the waist down in one large bite.

  I choked, spraying crumbs out of my mouth. I wiped it with the back of my hand. “You’re just plain evil. Who knew I was bound to a wicked witch?”

  She only shrugged and swallowed. “I figured removing certain parts of your anatomy might help you think more clearly.”

  “Wow.” I watched in amusement as she quickly finished off the rest and I ate mine as well. I loved it when she surprised me with her boldness. Somehow, she always managed to catch me off guard.

  “Are you having fun?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “Good. Time for the next part of the evening.” Reaching into my bag of tricks, I pulled out a crystal ball.

  Portia snickered. “Planning on doing some fortune telling?”

  “How’d you guess?” Using my powers, I caused the sphere to float into the air between us. It rotated around, sparkling as it caught the candlelight. “What do you see in your future?” I asked, watching her closely.

  Her eyes never left the ball, watching it spin. “Honestly, all I can see is the reflection of the two of us.”

  I smiled. “Wow. Me too . . . looks like this thing is pretty accurate after all.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly not impressed.

  “Hmmm. Not buying into the crystal ball thing?” I left it spinning in the air between us. “How about if I read your palm instead? Give me your hand.”

  She stared skeptically at me, but slid her hand across the table.

  “Okay. I need you to close your eyes now, and concentrate on the desires of your heart.”

  Waiting until her eyes were closed, I continued. “You’re going to feel me cleansing your hand for the reading. Don’t be alarmed.” Taking a bit of water from my bag, I saturat
ed a paper towel and brushed it over her, wetting her skin. Pressing a different item into her palm, I covered it with wet cloth, holding it there with some mild pressure.

  “What do you see? Can I open my eyes yet?”

  “Shh. Patience, baby. I’m still doing the cleansing.”

  Obediently, she held still. I removed the items and softly blew against her skin, drying it. Her other hand tightened, and desire flashed through her, making me smile. I enjoyed knowing she wasn’t immune to me.

  “I’m definitely seeing something here.” Slowly, I traced the tip of my finger across one of the lines. “Your life line is very long, which is good, but I’m most interested in what’s here on your love line. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her pulse rate rising as I continued to trace her hand.

  “Let’s just say, there’s a very clear message for you. Why don’t you open your eyes and take a look for yourself?”

  She did, leaning forward with interest before breaking into a wide smile as she read the temporary tattoo that spelled my name. “Vance,” she said, running her fingers over the script of the words. She locked gazes with me. “I have to say, I’m not very surprised by this revelation on my love line, but I am about something else.”

  “Really,” I responded, my eyes drifting across her perfect features. “What’s that?”

  “I’m afraid you’re a complete psychic fraud,” she said with a laugh, and I joined her.

  Feigning a disappointed sigh, I sadly shook my head. “You’ve discovered my secret. Unfortunately, there’s not a psychic bone in my body. Alas, I’m only a mere warlock.”

  She snorted. “Merely, my eye.”

  I winked at her. “Well then, how would you like to learn a real ritual?”

  Her eyes lit up, glittering in the candlelight, and she nodded. “What are we doing?”

  “Halloween is commonly referred to as Samhain in the magical community. At this time of year, it’s often the custom to say a prayer to our ancestors who’ve passed on before us, thanking them for our lives, and wishing them a safe journey. I thought maybe you’d like to do this with me. We could honor your grandfather, and whoever is in my family that might be gone.” I couldn’t say my mom’s name. Even though there was just as much chance of her still being alive, voicing that she could possibly be dead threatened to rip my heart out.

  “Thank you, Vance. I’d love to honor our families with you.”

  “Your family is my family too,” I responded taking her outside under the night sky. Walking hand in hand, we made our way to a shaft of moonlight filtering through the thick trees.

  The light washed across Portia, making her translucent skin glow so brightly she almost looked like a ghost herself. I wanted to kiss her; but given how easily things were igniting between us lately, I took both her hands instead, and lifted my gaze toward the moon and began the special prayer.

  Tonight is when worlds come closer,

  Dimensions separated by a thin veil.

  We call out in reverence to our ancestors,

  And other loved ones who’ve passed, as well.

  Spirits of Fathers, Mothers, and Friends,

  Thank you for your watchful protection.

  Your blood, spirit, and memories don’t end,

  But live on inside our veins, hearts, and souls.

  May the power of light always be with you,

  Paving your way in streams of gold.

  Continue to guide and help us,

  Until we join you when we’re old.

  So Mote It Be.

  We stood still together, allowing the soft sounds of nature, the breeze, and the light swirl together around us. Everything was so peaceful, that it almost did seem as if our loved ones were standing with us. I couldn’t recognize any presence in particular, only feeling we weren’t alone.

  Portia shivered, and I led her back to abandoned cabin that, even with all its cracks and missing windows and doors, was still significantly warmer, due to all the lit pumpkins inside.

  We walked around, looking at each carved face, and I loved that they made her laugh. It was such a beautiful sound, and her happiness was contagious, bubbling over into me. I needed to feel it, wanted to feel it. It told me everything was going to be right with the world, something I hadn’t believed for a long, long time.

  “Thank you for this, Vance. It’s been such a lovely night.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Are you sure you aren’t upset that I made you miss out on trick-or-treating?”

  “I haven’t done that for years now.” She elbowed me slightly.

  “Tell me what your favorite costume was and I’ll give you another treat,” I encouraged her, wanting to know all her little stories.

  “You’ll think it’s dumb.”

  “No, I won’t. You were a witch, weren’t you?”

  Placing her hands on her hips, she stared hard at me. “Vance Mangum! Have you been going through the photo albums at my house?”

  “What? No! Wait . . . there’s photo albums?” A wicked grin spread across my face. “I think I need to see those.”

  “Sorry, they’re classified,” she replied, folding her arms.

  “That’s okay. I’ll simply read the info in your head then.” She gasped and I took advantage of kissing her open mouth, slipping my tongue inside, and sliding the rest of her body closer. But she resisted, pushing away from me.

  “Got anymore of those cookies?” she asked, smiling as she changed the subject.

  “Sure do. Black kitty ones.” I knew what she was doing, still trying to control the environment so I wouldn’t get so bent out of shape physically. I had to admit, I kind of hated it. I liked touching her, but I respected what she was trying to do as well. After all, if things were to get carried away out here, there’d be nothing to stop us.

  Opening the plastic bag, I put the plate of cookies on the table next to the still foaming root beer. She grabbed one and took a bite.

  “Where’d you get these?” she asked.

  “Marsha made them while I was carving pumpkins. Do you like them?”

  “They’re delicious,” she replied. “We need to name our kids.”

  I choked again on my cookie. “Excuse me?”

  “These pumpkins. They’re like our kids. I want to name them all—like puke head—he should be Ralph. This one with the big eyes could be Bugsy…and this funky growth on this one reminds me of Pinocchio.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I continued to watch her move around observing them all . . . she began naming each one—Raquel, Christina, Sheri . . . Toni, Val, Kandi . . . Ashley, Julie, Holly, Lisa, and Kim, and on and on she continued. I had to laugh. Each name she spit out seemed to perfectly fit the pumpkin she gave it to. How did she come up with all of them off the top of her head? It was insane. I loved it.

  “Wait now,” I interrupted, determined to trip her up. “If you’re going to name them, they need last names too. These two look like a couple, what should we call them?”

  She paused to ponder for only a moment. “His name is Shane Meriwether, and she looks like a Meagan Mireles. Shane loves her a lot!” She sighed dreamily.

  I grinned wider. “Oh, most definitely. They look very happy together!”

  “Ooh! Look at this one! He’s kind of sexy!” she exclaimed as she pointed. “Meet Vance!” Reaching across the others, she lifted it and kissed it on the mouth. “My, my! He gives hot kisses too.”

  I shook my head and grinned. “You’re crazy.”

  “And you like it,” she replied, placing “Vance” back down.

  “I do,” I replied, snaking an arm against her waist, dragging her against me. “Now kiss me, my pretty witch, for all our dead ancestors to see.”

  She smiled and complied.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Journal Entry:

  Shelly, Portia’s friend, seems to be having a hard time lately with the two of us spending so much time toget
her. I don’t want to be the cause of problems between them, but I won’t give up my time with her, either. I’ve encouraged Portia to try and spend more time with her, even though that means less time with me. I think her family and friends are important and should be a regular part of her life.

  Hopefully things will get better, but I’ve noticed Shelly seems to make cutting comments toward Portia. It’s all about stupid stuff too, in my opinion. Shelly goes on and on about all the things Portia and I missed because we chose not to attend homecoming.

  I understand dances like that are a big deal for girls, but Portia and I were dealing with some heavy things at the time. Shelly is so caught up in herself that she seems completely oblivious to anything that’s going on outside her own life. Of course, I guess the same can be said for Portia and me. Personally, though, every time Shelly opens her mouth it makes me want to drag Portia away, out of the line of fire; but I feel the sparks of hurt that radiate from her when this happens. She loves her friend and wants to fix things, but doesn’t know how. Once again, I feel like it’s my secrets that are causing hardship in her life. I hate that.

  ***

  Eavesdropping had never been a favorite pastime of mine, but still I found myself lurking about in the shadows of Shelly’s parent’s resort, The Fountains at Fontane, in an effort to stay physically close to Portia while she took a “night off” from the two of us and attempted to recultivate her relationship with Shelly. My connection to Portia was wide open and I could easily hear the conversation between them. Portia had asked Shelly to show her the pictures of the Homecoming dance we’d missed earlier in the year.

  “It would’ve been way more fun if you’d actually been there,” Shelly complained with a sigh.

  “I don’t know how else to apologize,” Portia said softly, and I hated feeling her heartache. “I’m sorry I wasn’t feeling well.”

  She was being honest. That had been around the time of our binding spell and things between us had been a painful mess of raging hormones.

  “I know,” Shelly replied. “I’m trying to be understanding and adjust my way of thinking. I had all these ideas of how we were going to spend this year together, and then Vance came along, and well . . .”