Page 53 of How to Dump a Vampire

I give a mute nod, afraid to trust my voice.

We take our leave once measurements are finished and stroll the market as the stalls begin lighting their lanterns. The sweet scents of roasted nuts and mulled cider hang heavy in the chilled air as we meander down the winding lane of stalls. Vendors pack away their wares, wishing lingering customers good cheer for the season in gravelly voices. Audrey presses piping hot potato cakes and candied violets into my hands as we walk, keeping up a steady stream of delighted chatter.

I nibble the familiar treats dutifully, only half listening as I peer down shadowy side streets insearch of a familiar sign. My supply of asrbloom tea is dwindling faster than expected. Already, I feel the subtle scratch of thirst creeping up my throat, a constant companion I’ve learned to ignore over the centuries. I need to restock my ingredients before the thirst overwhelms me and I’m revealed as being more than just a witch.

Up ahead, a crooked storefront finally catches my eye—weathered timber framed by dark bottles and drying herbs. A tattered awning bears the image of a mortar and pestle. Promising. I slip from Audrey’s arm and approach the window, scanning the interior by the light of a flickering brazier.

“Come along, Thorn,” Audrey calls out. “We must stop for cider before the vendors close down.”

“You go on ahead,” I reply distractedly, my focus still trained on the apothecary. “I’ll just be a moment.”

The shop bell chimes a rusty greeting as I step inside. My nostrils fill with earthy scents—pungent cloves, cinnamon sticks, and the bunches of dried lavender and chamomile hanging from the rafters.

The white-haired shopkeeper glances up from grinding some powdered concoction, blinking owlishly. “Can I help you find something, miss?” His voice creaks like an old door.

I offer a polite smile. “Evening to you. I’m in need of some rare botanicals. Perhaps you might have asrbloom pollen? Or weeping midnight blossoms?”

The old man’s bushy eyebrows lift in surprise. “Well now, those are quite exotic ingredients indeed. May I inquire what you aim to brew with such treasures?”

I hesitate, uncertain whether to reveal the truth, but the genuine curiosity in his eyes seems devoid of malice. “An herbal tea to subdue… certain cravings. The family recipe is generations old.”

He nods sagely, shuffling over to a shadowed shelf lined with intricate bottles. I hold my breath as he runs a liver-spotted finger along the labels, muttering under his breath. After an agonizing moment, he makes a satisfied grunt and retrieves two small jars.

“You are in luck, miss. My last pinch of asrbloom and a bundle of midnight buds.” He sets them gently on the counter. “Odd, though, it’s been nigh on fifty years since someone came inquiring after such curiosities. A woman much like yourself, now that I think on it…”

My breath catches sharply. This was an old haunt of mine.

The shopkeeper snaps his fingers. “Aye, that’s the one. Knew her way around elixirs and tonics better than most. Traded me a crate of feverfew and witch hazel in exchange for those same ingredients.”

I nod nervously, unsure how to answer.

“Your mother?”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I simply nod. No need to correct his assumption.

He pats my hand gently. “Well then, in honor of your mother’s memory, please take these with my compliments.”

I open my mouth to protest such generosity, but the look of sincerity on his face stops me. Instead, I clasp his weathered hand in thanks. The precious jars are warm against my skin as I gather my new treasures to make the asrbloom tea once more.

Emerging from the shop, I find Draven lounging casually against the wall while Audrey flits between vendors cooing over trinkets. Though he’s seemingly at leisure, his piercing silver eyes find me instantly, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. The barely leashed power contained in the strong lines of his elegant frame reminds me he is no mere noblemanbut a dangerous predator. I would do well to remember that.

“Find what you sought?” His voice remains neutral, but curiosity lurks beneath.

I nod, tucking the jars protectively in my satchel. “Yes, thank you. An apothecary well stocked with rare herbs.”

“And secrets, perhaps?”

I bristle under the weight of his scrutiny. He suspects there is more to my midnight tea than I’ve revealed, but I will not justify my private rituals to this near stranger, prince or no.

Chin lifted, I meet his gaze directly. “The only secrets worth keeping are those that harm no one.”

One dark brow lifts, an unspoken challenge.

Audrey’s cheerful voice dispels the sudden tension. “Come. The fireworks will be starting soon!” She tugs us eagerly toward the castle gates.

I let out a slow breath, jarred ingredients secure at my side as we are swallowed by the crowd. Their presence chases away the lingering chill inside.

Audrey leads us along the bustling festival thoroughfare, pausing now and then to exclaim over strings of glittering crystals or delicate paper lanternsin the shape of woodland creatures. The sweet scent of baking pies and roasted chestnuts hangs heavy in the chilled air. Up ahead, a cozy restaurant’s balcony beckons, framed by twinkling fairy lights.

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