Page 11 of Valentine's With A Vampire

He nods quickly. “Yes. Please.”

We slip off the dance floor and back into the buzzing crowd. A small kiosk catches my eye: bright purple drapes, a crystal ball on a pedestal, and a sign that reads “Madam Threads’ Fortune-Telling: Love Edition.” Usually, she’s a clothing enchantress, but for the festival, she moonlights as a fortune teller, weaving illusions.

“This should be good,” I say, tugging Declan forward.

He eyes the booth warily. “Fortune-telling? Not sure I believe in that.”

I arch a brow. “We have flying lanterns and orcs, but fortune-telling is where you draw the line?”

He exhales, conceding the point. “Fine. One reading.”

Madam Threads beckons us with glittering eyes. She’s dressed in a shimmering wrap with a large cameo pinned at her throat. She gestures to two stools in front of the crystal ball. We sit.

She runs gnarled fingers over the glass orb, swirling pink light inside. “Ah, welcome, welcome,” she croons in a melodic tone. “Your hearts are entangled with the festival’s magic.”

Declan shifts uncomfortably, arms on his knees. “Uh, sure.”

She ignores his hesitation and leans in. “Let me see your joined auras.”

I catch his eye, and he sighs, placing his hand next to mine on the booth’s velvet cushion. Madam Threads peers through the orb. At first, it glows faintly, but then it flashes a brilliant, fiery red. Declan flinches, and I wince at how intense that color is.

Madam Threads cackles. “Oho! A strong bond, or a budding one. The flame is potent.”

Declan jerks away his hand, heart definitely pounding—it’s visible in his clenched jaw. “That’s enough. Thanks.”

She grins slyly. “Destiny weaves an interesting tapestry.”

He mumbles a tense goodbye and practically bolts from the booth. I send Madam Threads a quick wave of thanks before hurrying after him. His lantern trails behind, flickering in an amused pattern.

WE END UP NEAR THEfountain, which is decorated with floating rose petals and a subtle pink glow. He stops by the water’s edge, hands braced on the stone rim. The air smells like flowers and sugar, but his frustration is palpable.

“Why does everything keep pointing at...that?” He gestures vaguely, presumably meaning romance.

I tilt my head. “That’s the festival’s vibe. If you’re singled out by a lantern, folks assume it’s leading you to someone.”

He shoots me a guarded glance. “It’s all nonsense.”

I shrug, leaning beside him. “Maybe, but the illusions and potions here are rarely wrong.”

He runs a hand down his face. “It’s overwhelming.”

I rest a palm on his back, just briefly. “I get it. You’re not used to magic or constant talk of love. If you want to bail, I won’t force you to continue.”

He exhales and straightens. “I’ll manage.” Then his expression shifts to wariness as a hush falls across the square.

A hush drapes over the square. Mayor Ambrosius Spellbinder stands atop a raised platform, adjusting his tall, starry hat. He lifts his staff, clearing his throat. “My friends, thank you for joining our Valentine Festival. The time has come for our grand scavenger hunt tonight.”

Declan halts, tension rolling through him. He looks at me like he’s hoping he misheard. The crowd buzzes with excitement as the mayor continues, “Pairs, assemble at once. Your first clue awaits on the dais. Follow each riddle, collect items from across Evershift, and present them at the final checkpoint. Only then shall you be declared victors.”

Chatter explodes around us. People scramble to form teams. A few already hold clues, scanning them while weaving through the lantern-lit square. My father strides past with an elegant tip of his head, and my mother offers a wave.

“What do you say? Wanna pair up?”

He eyes me for a moment but grunts in what I assume is a yes. “Let’s get the clue then.” I drag him to where it’s posted, ignoring his hint of resistance.

Within the ringing of midnight’s tower,

Seek the shape that holds time’s power.

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