Page 37 of Haunted By the Storm
Storm nods, taking my caution in stride. "I should get going. I’ve got some things to set up for tonight. See you both at the party?"
"We'll be there," I confirm.
As he leaves, Emily skips back to her room, chattering about the party and candy and dancing with Storm. I watch her go, marveling at how quickly she's adapted to our strange new circumstances. Children are resilient, Effie told me, and Emily is proving her right.
I just wish I could adapt as easily.
By the time evening rolls around, the clubhouse has been transformed. Jack-o'-lanterns line the walkway, their flickering lights casting eerie shadows. Cobwebs drape from every corner, and skeletons pose in surprisingly realistic positions throughout the main room. Someone has dimmed the regular lights and replaced them with orange and purple bulbs, giving the whole space an otherworldly glow.
Emily is practically vibrating with excitement as we enter, her butterfly wings glittering in the colored lights. I'm less enthused about my own costume, hastily assembled from items borrowed from Effie and Eda. It consists of a flowing black dress, dark makeup, and a pair of gossamer wings not unlike Emily's, but in midnight black with silver accents.
"A night butterfly," Effie had declared, applying dramatic eye makeup with the skill of someone who'd done it many times. "Or a dark fairy, if you prefer. Either way, you look stunning."
I'm not convinced, but Emily's delight at our matching theme made it worth the effort.
The party is already in full swing when we arrive. Children in various costumes dart between the adults, high on sugar and excitement. The brothers, many in half-hearted costumes that amount to little more than fake blood or a mask pushed up on their foreheads, watch the chaos with amusement.
The kids are having the best time, and it’s going to mean the lead up to actual Halloween night is going to be extra special.
"Mommy, look! There's Sera!" Emily tugs at my hand, pointing to where Sera, dressed as what appears to be a miniature biker complete with a tiny leather vest, is helping herself to candy from a giant bowl.
"Go ahead," I tell her. "But stay where I can see you."
She nods solemnly then darts off to join her friend. I watch her go, a pang of both pride and concern tugging at my heart. She seems so at home here, so comfortable among these people who were strangers just weeks ago.
"Beautiful costume," a voice says behind me, and I turn to find Eda, resplendent in a queen's regalia, complete with a small crown perched atop her dark hair.
"Thanks to you and Effie," I say, self-consciously adjusting my wings. "I feel a bit silly, but Emily loves that we match."
"You look anything but silly," she assures me. "In fact, I think you've caught someone's attention already."
I follow her gaze to where Storm stands across the room, deep in conversation with Shadow and Digger. Unlike most of the brothers, he's made a genuine effort with his costume, a pirate, complete with a billowing white shirt, leather vest, and ared bandana tied around his head. A fake sword hangs at his hip, and what appears to be a real gold hoop glints from his ear.
"He cleans up nice, doesn't he?" Eda comments with a knowing smile.
I feel heat rising to my cheeks. "I hadn't noticed."
She laughs, not fooled for a second. "Sure you haven't. Come on, I'll get you a drink. Ace makes a mean Halloween punch."
I let her lead me to a table lined with food and drinks, trying not to be obvious about stealing glances at Storm. But every time I look his way, his eyes are already on me, as if he can't help watching me even in the midst of conversation with his brothers.
"Here," Eda says, pressing a cup of orange liquid into my hand. "Don't worry, there's a non-alcoholic version for the kids. This one's got a kick."
I take a sip and the sweet, tart flavor with a hint of something stronger bursts on my tongue. "It's good," I say, surprised.
"Told you. Ace might look like he could bench press a car, but he's got a secret talent for mixing drinks." She smiles fondly in the direction of her husband, who is currently allowing several children to examine his costume; a Viking warrior, complete with an impressively realistic axe.
"He's good with the kids," I observe.
"They all are," Eda says. "These men might look scary, but when it comes to children, they're absolute marshmallows. Especially Storm."
I nearly choke on my drink. "Storm?"
She nods, her eyes twinkling. "Haven't you noticed? He's completely wrapped around Emily's little finger. I've never seen him like this with any child before."
Before I can process this information, the music changes, shifting from background ambiance to something louder, more energetic. The children immediately gravitate toward the cleared space in the center of the room, Emily among them,her butterfly wings bobbing as she dances without a care in the world.
"Mom! Come dance!" she calls, waving me over.
