Page 5 of Bring Me Your Midnight

She puts the glass to her lips and closes her eyes, creating her own kind of silence.

I walk around to the back of the house and quietly slip into the mudroom. As soon as I’m inside, I pull my soaking-wet dress up and over my head, wrap a towel around me, and quietly walk up the back staircase.

“Tana,” my mother says behind me. I jump. “Where have you been?”

She asks the question even though it’s obvious where I was. “I thought I saw something in the water,” I say. My dress isdripping on the hardwood steps, and I roll it into my towel to stop the mess.

“I told you to come straight home and help your father with dinner. Why were you there in the first place?”

I don’t answer because nothing I say will satisfy her.

My mother sighs. “Go get cleaned up, and then you can tell me what you saw in the water.” Her wine sways from side to side as she turns and walks away.

I hurry upstairs to dry off, shuddering as I catch a glimpse of the sea. The sea is my safe place, my refuge, my haven. But tonight, it was dangerous.

“Just in time,” Dad says when I walk into the kitchen. A dish towel is thrown over his shoulder, and he holds a wooden spoon up to his mouth, tasting the stew simmering on the stove.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help,” I say.

“I’m sure you had a good reason.” Dad winks at me and motions to the silverware drawer. “Why don’t you set the table?”

I grab what we’ll need and set the table for three, just like my mother taught me. Tonight’s is a casual dinner, but I know how to set a table for a twelve-course meal, a skill I have yet to use but that my mother assures me is important all the same.

When we all sit down, I place my napkin in my lap and take a long sip of water.

“Try to get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Mom says, eyeing me over her glass. “You want to be well-rested for the ball tomorrow.”

It’s a celebration for Marshall Yates, Landon’s father, marking his tenth year of governing after the late Marshall Yates Sr. couldfulfill his role in title only, no longer able to keep up with the demands of ruling. It will be big and loud, with many eyes watching Landon and me.

“This is your first outing since the mainlanders heard there might be something going on between you and Landon.” She saysheardas if she isn’t the one who spread the rumors. “We need to play this carefully.”

“Tana will play it just right,” Dad says, turning to me. “Landon is eager to see you—that’s all that matters. And I suspect you’re eager to see him as well.”

I am eager to see my future husband, but I’m more eager to cement our union, to see the faces of the eldest in our coven when they hear the news. “Of course,” I say, taking a bite of my stew.

Dad smiles at Mom, but she doesn’t look convinced. We sit in silence for several minutes before Mom puts her glass down and looks at me.

“You will love him one day,” she says with a nod of her head. Certain.

I want to believe her. Landon has been just an idea for so long, something to wonder about as I drift off to sleep—what he will be like, what our life together will be like. But he is no longer an idea, no longer a distant point on the horizon, and I want the reality of him to match the picture I’ve been painting in my head all these years.

The irony is that if we hadn’t formed the new order, my parents could simply concoct a perfume that would make me fall helplessly in love with him. But that kind of magic doesn’t exist anymore.

I smile at my mother. “I’m sure I will.”

She nods in approval. “Why don’t you tell us what you saw in the water?” she says, changing the subject.

The question makes me tense and my palms begin to sweat. My fear from earlier returns, grasping at my nerves, but I suddenly doubt myself again. Maybe it was some kind of cruel joke; there are still many mainlanders who hate magic, hate that our island is here at all, and perhaps one of them thought they’d get a good laugh out of making the witches believe moonflowers had returned to the Witchery.

My mother is the leader of the new witches, and if I tell her I saw the flower, she will be required to look into it. I’m torn over what I should do; I don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing, but if itissomething, she needs to know.

I walk the shores every day. If I see one again, I’ll tell her.

“Nothing,” I say, trying to calm my racing heart. “Just a flower.”

She watches me for several moments before nodding. “Well, please stay out of the water tomorrow. It’s a big night for you.”

“It’s a big night for us all,” I say, and that brings a smile to her face.

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