Page 19 of Toadstools and Vampire Kisses

I hand over the mask and then proceed to fidget with a length of fringe from my knitted shawl as I laugh. “I’m afraid that a witch isn’t very original in terms of costumes, but it is tradition in my family that for this dance all witches be as ‘witchy’ as possible. It is fun to play with the lore and stereotypes.”

His smile widens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Ah. In that case, I would have had the most natural costume of all with the way I keep to the old fashions. I have little doubt that this has occurred to my cousin, and he is raiding my wardrobe forthwith.”

I press my fingers to my lips to stifle an embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t even think of that! You could have worn a dark cloak over your outfit and been perfect just as you are. I guess the mask was a stupid idea after all.”

“Not at all,” he murmurs, stepping in closer. “I find it enchanting. And why not play the fox this one night? We can enjoy ourselves, and perhaps for tonight you can forget what I am.”

My tongue cements to the roof of my mouth, but I manage to nod as heat scores my cheeks. I didn’t know my distaste for vampires had been quite so obvious. I still don’t know what to think of vampires as a whole, but I do know that I enjoy being with Reynard—and if he’s an example of what all those other women have found with vampires, I can understand the appeal. But I don’t think I would find any other vampire as irresistible as I do him.

Lifting the mask up, he ties it in place and peers down at me. I squint up at it, swearing that I saw a glimmer of magic race over its surface, but I can’t be sure. I’m almost regretting the enchantment I placed over it. This should be a night of fun, not ulterior motivations. I suddenly feel very much like a fraud when he’s being completely open with me.

“I couldn’t find a tail,” I say lamely.

“Less to get in the way,” he replies, his voice deepened by the distortion of the mask over his face. He pulls the tie from his long hair and gives his head a shake to free his wild tresses. “What do you think?”

I suck my lips in at the primal energy that seems to radiate from him. It is as if donning the mask has set something free that usually lurks behind that sophisticated exterior, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. I do know I feel a bit overshadowed. Even with the wild inhibition of his appearance, my witchy attire is more modest, entirely in theme with a medieval witch who dwells in her forest cottage than the more extravagant modern interpretations that my cousins prefer.

“Extraordinarily foxy,” I assure him, earning a deep chuckle.

“Shall we go then? I am eager to see this dancing that you spoke of.” He extends his hand to me, and I eagerly slip my fingers into his grasp.

The ballroom when we arrive is as festive as every year. Countless jack-o’-lanterns shine from every possible surface and off columns and various props erected to display them. Someone has even conjured fog to creep in from the open window. Between the jack-o’-lanterns and the large pillar candles set around the room, the atmosphere amid the creeping mist holds a touch of enchantment to it that has the children shrieking and giggling in their costumes. The music is a lively beat, mostly songs from various children’s Halloween movies, but I recognize “Hall of the Mountain King” at one point as Reynard walks with me over to the refreshment table. As promised, there are several men trying to best each other at dancing with a jack-o’-lantern balanced on their head as the children dance around chaotically in the manner that kids tend to do.

“How incredible,” Reynard murmurs, his gaze riveted to the dance floor.

I laugh, unable to disagree. “I think everyone looks forward to this every year. The only thing that comes close is the solstice party. Of course, then you have children fueled on cakes, pies, and chocolates which just makes everything more chaotic. There is a fair selection of sweets here, but not nearly as much as you find at the solstice,” I admit.

“Perhaps you’d like to give it a try,” I lean and whisper.

His eyes cut to me and warm with delight, but a throat clears behind me, and his eyes flick away, his smile dropping. I straighten and turn to give whoever is interrupting the quickest shove-off possible and come face to face with Jack. The vampire smiles warmly, and for a moment I feel bad for being on the verge of cussing him out. Or hexing him. Either option was equally in the air. Until I spot the young woman on his arm and quickly amend my decision to hexing. Definitely hexing.

Sarah Goodwin is not a Durmont but a witch adopted into our coven. Although I’ve never been particularly on friendly terms with her, I’ve never had an issue with her—until now. She is staring at Reynard with definite interest in her eyes makes my hackles rise. I’m tempted to send a spark of unpleasant growth into her dress when Jack starts talking. It’s a stupid dress, like a sexy little version of Glinda’s dress, all puffs and blue sparkles… and topped off by a stupid towering blue crown on her head.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was telling Sarah here all about my cousin Reynard and she really insisted on meeting him,” Jack explains as he directs an apologetic smile my way.

It takes everything I have not to send him a scathing look as I feel Reynard stiffen beside me. I don’t know why I’m so pissed. I mean, we arrived together and only just got here. I’m certain he wouldn’t embarrass me by running off to dance with her.

“Sarah, is it? It’s a pleasure,” Reynard murmurs, extending his hand. “Would you like to dance?” His voice has a faint rumble to it that sounds like desire, and I rapidly blink my eyes, willing away the tears of humiliation and crushing disappointment as he guides her to the dance floor.

My lips thin angrily at the couple, and I wonder what spell might embarrass them without disrupting the party too much or fingering me as the culprit. As Katherine’s daughter, the coven will see such retaliation as beneath me, especially against a fellow coven-sister. I’m still debating the matter and throwing around ideas when I feel Jack step closer to my side.

“That expression on your face is so chilly that I’m almost frightened,” he says conversationally, his quiet voice carrying easily to me.

He is a lot closer than I thought him to be, but it serves my purpose that I’m evil to shoot him a hateful glare over my shoulder before snapping forward and pasting an expressionless mask on my face.

“Ouch, that hurts,” he chuckles. “If it’s any consolation, she might want to bed him, but my cousin lacks any true finesse when it comes to talking to women. Unless she’s very determined to seduce him, I imagine that she will find a way to excuse herself from his company soon enough.”

“You are a complete dick. I hope you realize that,” I hiss from between my teeth, confident that with his superior hearing that he will get it clearly enough.

Resolutely, I turn away from the dancing couple and walk across the floor, determined to find a guest who will be better company. I should have known that he would just end up disappointing me. The first woman who actively shows him interest—practically wiggling with it in fact, in ways that would put Beast to shame, I grouse uncharitably—and he just whisks her off to dance as if I weren’t even there. That sounds exactly like something a vampire would do.

“Fran, where are you going?” Jack asks as he trails behind me.

“To find something more worthwhile to occupy my time, and you are not welcome to join me,” I snap.

He responds with a deep laugh that is maddening. “I’m afraid it will take more than that to get rid of me.”

And that’s it. That is the straw the breaks the camel’s back. Whirling around, I feel my power raise and crackle around me as I turn on him. He blinks in surprise at me as I feel my hair stand on end with the rush of my power. Too bad he will never know what hit him. My mother will just have to forgive me for this later.

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