Page 20 of The Accidental Witch

With that she was gone, taking the steps one at a time until her footsteps faded.

“YouwatchedBridgerton?”

Nina rolled her eyes and grabbed her duffel bag. “Have you seen that guy who plays Simon?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then duh, I watchedBridgerton. Now get your ass movin’. We gotta dip.”

As they headed to the car, where she found her cats sitting contentedly in various laps, she pondered the fact that Nina had watchedBridgerton.

Sure. Duh, the guy who played Simon was outrageously handsome, but thinking of Nina watching a romance with women dressed in fancy gowns felt somehow out of character.

She’d have thought her more of aSquid Gamekind of girl.

Marty shivered.“It’s chilly tonight, huh?” she asked Robbie, knocking shoulders with her.

Robbie agreed with a silent nod, her heart crashing against her ribs as they made their way through the dark cemetery, passing row after row of headstones of witches gone by.

Yes. They were in a cemetery for witches and warlocks. Despite popular lore according to Greer, while immortal, they could be killed.

Trees, bare of their leaves this late in October, their limbs bending in the wind, shivered along with Robbie. Nary a star made an appearance in the sky and the raw wind felt like snow.

On the way to the cemetery, she’d told Greer and the ladies about what Mrs. Campisi said regarding Siobhan, but they’d set that aside for later. The seriousness regarding what they were about to do taking precedence.

They trudged through the fallen piles of foliage, the solid ground beneath leaving her feet cold as ice. How were they ever going to dig up the soil?

“Where the fuck is this headstone, dude? Did they bury her in fucking Siberia?” Nina asked. “I’m all for a good walk but my friend Tater Tot here is cold.”

Tottington held up his hand, the hoodie Nina had loaned him hanging from his arms. “I’m fine, Miss. Please don’t fret about me.”

He’d refused to remain in the warm car with the cats, preferring to stay by Robbie’s side, for which she was grateful.

Hanging back from everyone else, Robbie asked him teasingly, “You okay, Tater Tot?”

He groaned under his breath, tightening the hoodie Nina had given him around his neck. “Please, Miss, don’t rub it in.”

“Listen,” she whispered, fighting the chatter of her teeth. “Be grateful she likes you. You did see what she can do when she’s mad, right?”

He blew out a gust of air, the condensation creating a puffy cloud. “Indeed. She is quite horrifying.”

“I know you don’t mean that, Tater! You’d never hurt my feelings, would you?” Nina called from up ahead.

Caught, T blustered, “No, Miss.Never.”

“I thought that’s what you meant,” she crowed.

His eyes, even in the dark, asked,“How?”

Robbie snickered, hooking her arm through his. “Super-hearing. I think Marty mentioned that during the show they gave us, remember? Super-strong, super-fast, super-hearing. If it’s any consolation, Marty and Wanda don’t understand why she likes you either. It seems like she doesn’t like anyone. Not openly, anyway.”

“How endlessly flattering,” Tottington muttered as they continued to forge ahead.

Greer hung a sharp left, past another set of larger headstones, to one that stood alone among a patch of tall oak trees, their limbs scratching at the sky. The headstone itself was dirty from the rain, and in some places, moss grew in wet patches.

He stopped abruptly and took a deep breath. “This is her grave.”

It read:Gwinnifer Winthrop, 1872-2019.

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