Page 111 of No Charm Done

“What are you talking about?” Vex looked to his assistants for support. They were already backing away, hands raised, wanting no part of whatever was happening.

“You wanted attention,” Chuck said, arriving at the gazebo steps. “You craved it. Built your whole empire on shifting sands called attention.”

“I never⁠—”

“Not to worry, you’ll have eternity to reflect. And you won’t be lonely. As it happens, I’ve assembled quite the collection of humans who confused attention with oxygen. Nero, obviously. Louis XIV. I have a rotating exhibit of military leaders who thought they could invade Russia in winter. The inventor of reality television.”

Vex was shaking his head, backing up against the gazebo railing. “You’re insane. You’re⁠—”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘divine,’” Chuck said pleasantly. Then he snapped his fingers.

Vex began to shimmer. It started at his edges—his outline going fuzzy, indistinct, like he was being slowly erased. He looked down at his hands and screamed.

“No! NO! Help me! HELP!” Desperate, he turned toward his pack of assistants. But his minions just ran. Just turned and sprinted away, from the green, from Oak Haven, from New England entirely. They didn’t look back.

The witches watched in silence, respectful and wary. Whatever Chuck was, whatever he was doing, they weren’t about to interfere. Even Mama, protective as she was, stayed where she was, one hand on Luna’s shoulder.

Vex was fading faster now. But as he faded, something became visible through him. Like looking through a window into another place. The cameras caught it. Of course they did.

Through Vex’s translucent body, the livestream briefly showed an endless white space. Too bright to look at for long. Floating in that space were human heads, smooth and unfinished, with giant eyes. No mouths or noses. Nothing but eyes. They were enormous, glossy, and unblinking, all of them staring straight ahead.

A sound crackled through the speakers, sharp and stuttering. The rapid, percussive clatter of camera shutters firing in bursts, over and over, like polite gunfire.

“No,” Vex whispered. Then louder, frantic. “No—wait—listen to me⁠—”

The eyes registered no reaction at all. Didn’t narrow or widen or flicker with interest. They simply stared as the camera clattering intensified.

Chuck’s voice drifted in, warm with satisfaction. “Welcome to my Garden of Perpetual Regard. It’s everything you wanted, forever.”

Vex turned, wild-eyed, spinning in place as if looking for a face that might answer him. “Please, just let me explain—” Then he was gone.

The livestream chat detonated.

“What DA FUQ was THAT” . . .

“Bro, what if this is like the ring and we’re next.”

“ANYBODY SCREENSHOT THE EYES???

An assistant lunged for the controls, hands shaking, but it didn’t matter. The clip was already loose in the world, replicating faster than anyone could stop it.

Chuck dusted his hands together, looking neither pleased nor displeased. “There. All done.” He glanced over at Luna. “Oh good grief, humans are never satisfied.”

She was still on her knees, still crying, still holding that goddamn phone with the photo of Shaw’s burned tie.

“You witches have won, child. Your little magic is saved. What more do you want?”

She didn’t answer; she was too furious to speak. Not at anyone specific. Just . . . furious that the world kept moving forward when Shaw was gone. Furious that cosmic justice meant nothing when the person she loved was dead. Furious that literally everyone around her got exactly what they wanted, and she was left alone.

The god tilted his head, studying the youngest Melrose with sudden interest. “I should think you’d be a little more impressed. But you don’t look especially awed, my dear.”

Oh fuck off, she thought. She gave Chuck a sarcastic slow clap. “Wow. Thanks to you, the world has one less egomaniac tech bro. Congratulations.”

“Shh, Luna!” Kelly squeezed her daughter’s shoulder, a gesture both protective and warning. “This is a god we’re dealing with.”

But Chuck just laughed. “Cheeky! But, you know, I do hate an unsatisfied audience. Can’t have that, can we? Hmm . . . All right, how about this. I’ve taken a human. Seems only fair I should give one back. Call it a trade.” He gazed at Luna directly. “But we’re even now, you and I. Understood?”

Luna didn’t answer. Didn’t nod. Just stared at him with those tear-streaked, furious eyes.