Page 9 of The Heartbreak Hex

“Oops,” she says. Is it my imagination or is her tone a little breathless? A vampire can hope.

“No harm done,” I respond, still holding onto her a little longer, lingering with my arms around her.

“Well, we should get you to work,” she reminds me, straightening up and stepping out of my embrace. I’m disappointed for a moment, but then I have a thought.

“Right you are,” I say, giving another smile. “Usually I fly to work to get there on time.” Vampires can summon a set oflarge bat wings to fly on their back and it’s my favorite mode of transportation.

“Great,” she replies. “I’ll grab my broom.”

“That might be a little tricky with this,” I remind her, holding up the wrist with the glowing string. “I’d hate to accidentally get too far from you and pull you off your broom.”

“What should we do then?” she asks. “You’re going to be late.”

“I’ll carry you,” I say matter-of-factly, even though my pulse races at the thought of holding Gertrude in my arms.

“Won’t you get tired?”

I snort at the idea. “I’m a vampire. We’re very strong and you’re not very big. Don’t worry about it.”

She still looks a little hesitant. “But won’t that be, I don’t know, a little . . . intimate?”

I can only hope so.Aloud I say, “It will only be as intimate as we let it be, right? I promise I won’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

She sends me a shy smile that lights up my whole world. “I believe that. I trust you, Vlad.”

Those words spear me through.She trusts me. The hope that I’ve been feeling all morning grows bright like the sun in my chest. Trust is a lot of things, but it most especially is the best basis for a relationship. And what I wouldn’t give to be in a relationship with Gertrude Nightshade.

“Great,” I respond, somehow keeping my voice even. “Let’s get going then.”

∞∞∞

FLYING THROUGH THE air with Gertrude in my arms is everything that I hoped it would be. Her arms are wrappedsecurely around my neck, my arms supporting her back and under her knees. She’s cradled against my chest like a bride being carried over the threshold by her groom. That fills me with longing, as the mental image of Gertrude in a wedding dress, walking toward me comes to mind. My arms tighten slightly around the precious witch. How can she not know that she’s got me wrapped around her tiny fingers?

It goes without saying that I enjoy my morning commute even more than normal. Usually I enjoy the sights and sounds of the village from the sky, the ever-falling snow over the Christmas Neighborhood in the distance, the forever-fall foliage of the Halloween neighborhood beneath me, the bats flying by. I can even see the pink floral tips of the trees in the Valentines Neighborhood to my right as I veer toward City Hall. But this time, as I fly, I feel Gertrude looking around, admiring the scenery with me and it feels special.

“I don’t go flying very often anymore,” the witch remarks as we get to the village center, where the City Hall building and the wishing fountain rests. “I live within walking distance of my shop, so it doesn’t seem worth it. I forgot how much I like seeing the village from up here.”

“It is lovely,” I agree, looking down at the witch in my arms.Somehow, though, I feel like my view is prettier.

We come in for a landing, flying down to the large steps that lead to City Hall. I flap my wings to slow down and then gently touch down on the steps. At that moment, the doors burst open, and my banshee secretary, Bridget Shadesglow, comes hurrying toward me.

“Mayor Everdark, where have you been?” she shrieks, hurting my ears. Banshee voices are grating at the best of times, but even more when they shout. “The pumpkin farmers have been here for at least ten minutes waiting on you and . . .” she suddenly stops, realizing for the first time that I’m holdingsomeone in my arms. “. . . and who is this?” she asks diplomatically, working to modulate her voice.

“This is Gertrude Nightshade, a successful entrepreneur of our neighborhood,” I introduce. “She’s going to be . . . shadowing me today.” I don’t mention that we’re tied together and can’t leave each other’s sides. Bridget will freak out if I tell her I’ve been put under a spell.

“Hmm . . .” Bridget says, narrowing her glowing blue eyes a fraction. She’s always been more observant than I would sometimes like. “Well, if she’s going to be shadowing you, perhaps you should put her down.”

Reluctantly, I place Gertrude down on her feet. It was nice while it lasted.

“Lead the way to the picking, Bridget,” I say brightly, even though I’d much rather go to my office and spend time alone with Gertrude.

With a little smart snap of her heels, Bridget turns and floats back into City Hall and Gertrude and I follow.

“Is this the picking of the City Hall pumpkin?” Gertrude asks. She’s walking fast to keep up with my long legs, I realize, since the string doesn’t let us get too far away.

“Yep,” I reply, slowing my pace to account for her narrower strides. I don’t want her to strain herself. “We have to pick out the pumpkin that will be carved into a jack-o-lantern and go on the top of the wishing fountain for the Halloween Welcoming Ball. The pumpkin farmers are hyper-competitive about it every year.”

“That’s because the winning farmer also gets first dibs to supply the pumpkins for the Thanksgiving Neighborhood’s feast next month,” Gertrude tells me conspiratorially.

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