Page 104 of Enchanted to Meet You

I squeezed his hand in mine. “I know,” I said. “It’s all right. Truthfully, even if you had told me, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“And now?”

“Now I believe you. But I also think your family needs a lot of therapy.”

He lifted my hand to his lips, his eyes seeming to burn into my soul.

“You know I love you, don’t you? You’re the only thing my heart beats for,” he murmured, and despite the music, despite the chatter of all the people around us, despite the rain pattering even harder against the tent, I heard every word, as if he’d burned it across my skin with the golden fire of his touch.

I wanted to tell him that I felt the same. I wanted to tell him a lot of things. But I didn’t get the chance, because suddenly his grip on my hand tightened.

“There she is,” he said, his gaze sharpening on something behind me.

“Esther?” My head whipped around, but all I saw was Rosalie, standing at the edge of the stage with her tablet and headset again. The only difference between tonight and last night was that tonight, her sheath dress was red. My shoulders sagged with disappointment. “That’s Rosalie.”

“I know,” he said. “But she’ll have an idea where Esther is. Come on.”

He kept his grip on my hand as he steered me toward the stage. I was glad he did, since we could easily have become separated—not simply by the ever-growing crowd, but by leaks which had begun to appear in the seams between the tents. Rainwater was sluicing down in steady rivulets, some between tables, some evenonto them, dousing the candles, and causing partygoers to leap from their chairs unexpectedly, directly into our path.

Derrick didn’t care. He veered past them, until we reached the stage—and Rosalie.

“This is inexcusable,” I could hear her barking into her headset as we approached, even though the orchestra was playing as energetically as ever only a few feet away. “The city paid over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars to rent these tents. I was told they’d stand up to driving rain and gale force winds. I want somebody here to fix thisright now!”

“Rosalie,” I said. I’d noticed that Billy, dressed in his tux, was slouched at a nearby table, nursing what looked like a whisky on the rocks. He lifted his glass upon meeting my gaze, then went back to drinking. Beside him, Billy Junior slumped in a tux of his own, playing video games on his phone, and Lizzie—Rosalie’s contender for Bringer of Light—was hunched a few chairs away, wearing a red gown that matched her mother’s, only with a crown of gold roses instead of a headset.

Rosalie held a single index finger out to me, to indicate that I should wait a minute until she was done on her call.

“What do you mean, the roads have become impassable?” she asked, in a voice that was as cold as the rain that suddenly began streaming down in the middle of the string section of the orchestra. “What—”

She tapped the headset several times, then looked at me, her eyes wide with astonished outrage. “They hung up.They hung up!Can you believe—?” She looked around, noticing that the orchestra had ceased playing and the musicians were rising from their seats. “What’s wrong? Why has the music stopped?”

“We can’t continue playing until the rain is over, Mrs. Hopkins,” the conductor informed her. “It’s a liability issue. Some of these instruments are worth an enormous amount of money, andif they get wet, they’ll be ruined. That’s not to mention the risk of electrocution from the sound system.”

“Great.” Rosalie’s gaze fell on me, and when it did, I took a staggering step back, and Derrick’s hands went protectively around me. Rosalie didn’t look like her normally cool, collected self. She didn’t even look like a storm witch. She looked like hell. “There wasn’t even rain in the forecast. Where did this storm come from, huh? Are you the one causing this, Jess?Are you?”

But before I could reply, a man’s deep voice rang out. It had a British accent.

“Of course it’s not Jessica, Rosalie,” Brewster said, sounding amused. I spun around to see him standing behind me.

And he had one hand on Esther’s slim shoulder.

“We all know exactly what’s happening right now, don’t we?” Brewster went on, amiably. “So why don’t we sit down and discuss it, like civilized witches?”

Jessica

When the Bringer of Light is joined by the Chosen One, her power will increase tenfold.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said, putting down his drink with a thump. “But did he saywitches?”

“I did, my boy.”

Brewster, his hand still resting on Esther’s shoulder, propelled her forward. She’d changed from the clothes she’d been wearing earlier into one of the New Year’s Eve jumpsuits. She’d chosen my cross-neck sequin jumpsuit in silver, with flared wide-leg bottoms. She was walking a little stiffly, but otherwise seemed all right.

Except for her eyes. Her eyes, behind the lenses of her glasses, were huge. And terrified.

“Your wife is a witch,” Brewster informed Billy. “A very powerful witch who is going to help me send the demons who’ve been plaguing your village for centuries back to their graves, where they belong.”

Witch?The word rippled through the crowd. Not horrified. Amused, mostly. There was a smattering of giggles, and evensome snickers. It seemed to me that many people thought this was some kind of pre-ball theatrical skit for their entertainment.