Page 55 of Revenge is a Witch

But tonight is about more than just hanging out with the boys. Tonight is about taking Kyla down, and I’ll be damned if I don’t look my best while doing it.

I toss my bag onto the bed and head straight to the mirror. Hotness level:must be maxed out.I start with my makeup—just a little extra flair. Winged eyeliner sharp enough to slice through Kyla’s ego and some deep red lipstick that matches my favorite stockings. Perfect.

Speaking of which, I slide into a pair of my nicer red stockings, the ones with the little lace detailing at the top that I reserve for special occasions—or in this case, a night of calculated social warfare. Next, I grab my black dress, the one that hugs just right. It’s simple but effective—enough to make an impact without screamingI’m trying too hard.

My hair? Curled, of course. Loose curls, nothing too fussy, but enough bounce to make a statement. Just in case things get wild, I toss a few hair ties into my handbag, along with my trusty hiccuping potion. I can practically see Kyla gulping down that bubbly little disaster-in-a-bottle, and the thought brings a grin to my face.

I check myself in the mirror one last time.Alright, Zaria, you look good enough to crush a queen bee. Perfect.

With a deep breath, I head out the door. Tonight’s the night I’ve been gearing up for, and I’m not holding back.

It's Dinner Time!

Now, where is Kuzco's poison?

I’m standing just outside the restaurant—near but far enough away to watch, leaning against the cold brick wall like some kind of spy in a bad action movie. I’ve been here for a good ten minutes, watching the comings and goings, tapping my foot impatiently. My nerves are buzzing like I’ve had too much coffee, but I’m not backing down. Tonight’s the night, and I’m not letting Kyla—or Sam, for that matter—get the better of me.

Then I see them. First, Sam, looking like she’s been rehearsing for her part in theMean Girlsreboot, all smug with her short skirt and attitude. Next comes Bethany—her name finally clicks—looking as dim-witted as always. She’s one of those air elemental fae types, the kind that always looks like a strong breeze might knock her over. She floats around in conversations, never really adding much but always there, like some sort of ethereal sidekick.

I don’t even have time to roll my eyes before Kyla struts into the restaurant, her hand practically glued to Sebastian’s arm.He’s playing his part well, though—way too well. I can see it in the stiff way he holds himself, the slight tension in his jaw. He’s letting her touch him, but I know he’d rather peel her off and toss her across the room. Still, he’s committed to the game, and honestly, it’s impressive how well he’s pulling off the whole "under witch command" act. He doesn’t even bother opening the door for her, which makes me smirk. Kyla’s face tightens in frustration for just a second before she covers it up with another one of those too-sweet smiles.

It’s almost funny—almost—watching her get so irritated at his lack of chivalry. What’s not funny is watching her hands all over him, like she’s staking a claim. My stomach twists every time she touches him, and I can’t tell if it’s anger, disgust, or just the overwhelming urge to yank her off him myself. Probably all three.

Her hair looks better than usual tonight, which I assume is thanks to whatever wig she’s slapped on. Honestly, it’s the best she’s looked in a while. Too bad she’s still the same insufferable person underneath. I take a deep breath, reminding myself why we’re here. Patience.

There’s another girl with them—Eva, if I remember right. She’s a succubus, and let’s just say subtlety is not her strong suit. Her entire vibe screams, "Look at me," like she thrives on attention, and not the good kind. She’s batting her lashes like she’s getting paid for it, and knowing her, she’s probably already planning on stealing someone’s boyfriend by dessert. But what really catches my attention is her lipstick—deep red, almost identical to mine. Well, isn’t that just perfect? It’s like the universe decided to gift-wrap my plans tonight.

Next to her is Miles, a pixie with the kind of overcompensating swagger you can spot from a mile away. Pixies always seem like they’ve got something to prove, probably because they’re small but act like they can take on the world. He’s puffed up like apeacock, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Between him and Eva, it’s like watching a really bad soap opera, one where everyone’s convinced they’re the main character.

The whole group laughs as they take their table, oblivious to the fact that I’m practically fuming in the shadows. I don’t know what’s more infuriating—Kyla’s fake smile, or the fact that Sam’s sitting there like she didn’t stab me in the back.

But then I see Derek, and my mood instantly lifts. He’s strolling down the street, looking casual as ever but in that annoyingly sexy way only he can pull off. He’s got on a collared shirt—nothing fancy, but enough to make him look like he’s actually trying tonight, and damn it, I hate how good it looks on him.

I cross my arms as he gets closer, raising an eyebrow. “Nice shirt, Derek. Didn’t know you knew how to dress yourself without help.”

He grins, unfazed, and shoots right back. “Didn’t know you liked your men dressed, Z.”

Before I can retort, he leans in and kisses me, his lips lingering a bit longer than necessary. When he pulls back, he smirks. “Had to make sure your lipstick was on my lips before I walked in.”

I chuckle and swipe at my lips with my thumb. “Sorry, it’s non-transferrable. Magic, you know. Keeps things tidy.”

He tilts his head, intrigued. “Part of the plan?”

I shrug, a playful glint in my eye. “Only for the moment.” We share a grin before turning toward the restaurant. It’s game time. As we walk in, I take one last deep breath. Let’s show Kyla what happens when she messes with the wrong witch.

Derek and I are led to a table just a couple away from Kyla and her crew. It’s a pretty busy restaurant, thankfully, which means we won’t draw too much attention too soon. Still, my eyes keep darting toward Sebastian, who's playing his part as Kyla’s puppet far too well for my liking. Every time she touches him, I can practically see him flinch, even though he’s doing a good job of hiding it.

But I can’t focus on that right now. Derek and I need to play our part too. As soon as we sit down, Derek gives me that playful grin of his. “Well, well, Z, look at this. You finally made good on that date you promised me.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “This? This is the date? Watching my archnemesis paw at a guy I’m half-convinced is going to lose his mind if she touches him one more time? Not exactly candlelit romance.”

He chuckles and reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. “Maybe not the traditional route, but I’d say it’s perfect. You’re here, I’m here… the enemy’s distracted. Seems like a win to me.”

I tilt my head, biting back a smile. “Oh, so this is your idea of a good time? Spying and plotting revenge?”

He leans in a little, smirking. “With you? Absolutely. You make everything more fun, even sabotage and chaos.”

I laugh softly, squeezing his hand. “You’re impossible.”

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