Page 65 of No Charm Done

“Your memories won’t be erased completely, just . . . edited a bit.”

“Ohh,” he chuckled, but his grip on her hands grew tighter. “Well, that’s fine. Can’t imagine what I was concerned about.”

Smiling, Luna reached out. She took his face in both hands and kissed him.

“See now? That’s my point, Melrose. I won’t remember you just did that.”

She kissed him once more. Slowly, deliberately, as though she was trying to assure him that this moment would last beyond his memory of it. His hands tightened around her waist, and for just a moment, Elias forgot how to be clever.

As they broke apart, she moved to whisper in his ear. “I’ll remind you.”

Luna turned away, returning to the balletic gestures required for a portal spell. The air shimmered, warped, and opened: a perfect circle of elsewhere hovering in the Oak Haven night. Through it, Elias could see the lights of New York City, could hear the distant wail of sirens and traffic.

For just a moment, before stepping through, he paused to try and organize his mind. He tried to commit Oak Haven to a permanent place in his brain, hoping that, just maybe, a true con man like him could outsmart the brain-bending magic of this little town. He tried to save the cobblestone streets. The warm, nostalgic lobby of the Stargazer Inn. The faces of the people he’d met, all those pirates and witches and magicians.

But much as he tried, Shaw’s stubborn, uncooperative mind brought other memories to the fore instead. Frankie’s laugh, back in that Egyptian tomb. The way his brother had lit up when he talked about the money they’d make, the adventures they’d have. That murderous old linen in his pocket, lying in wait to end it all.

Luna was already stepping through the portal, glancing back to make sure he was following. He was. Of course he was. But as he crossed the threshold between Oak Haven and New York, between the plan they’d made and the revenge he’d never stopped wanting, Elias couldn’t quite silence the voice in the back of his head.

It was a voice that sounded suspiciously like Frankie. A voice that said: You owe me more than this. A voice that said: Finish it.

Chapter 20

The Girl Who Brings the Weather

Opening a portal in the center of Times Square was maybe a bit mean on Luna’s part. She could have portaled them to a nice little park somewhere, easing Shaw’s transition. But she simply had to know what this know-it-all hustler from the Roaring Twenties would make of the “crossroads of the world” in 2026.

She wasn’t disappointed.

Luna stepped through the portal first and turned to watch his face as he joined her. Shaw cycled through confusion, shock, and something approaching existential horror in seconds.

“Jesus Jumping Christ,” he breathed.

They were surrounded on all sides by massive LED screens, all the buildings transformed into animated billboards fifty stories tall. Wild, incomprehensible images flashed before him, but Shaw’s eyes were drawn to one screen in particular, which appeared to be an advertisement for a new Broadway show. An actress twirled across a vast digital stage, her movements as captivating as any Ziegfeld girl from his time. Meanwhile, a cartoon duck danced across another building, text scrolling below it.

The plaza teemed with tourists, fixated on screens or snapping photos. Street performers vied for attention: a silver-painted man frozen on a box, an electric violinist, and a breakdancing group nearby.

Shaw turned in a slow circle, trying to process it all. His hand went instinctively to straighten his tie—a nervous gesture Luna was beginning to recognize. She watched him take in the food carts lining the plaza, the vendors hawking INY T-shirts and knock-off designer bags, the absolute sensory overload of humanity and commerce and technology all crammed into a few blocks.

“I’m sorry, is this . . .” His voice was faint, his eyes darting from the skyscrapers to the staggering crowds. “Are we still in New York? Is it still 1977? The last thing I remember, we were in 1977 . . . Weren’t we? How is any of this here?”

“Yes, but then we went to Oak Haven. Which you don’t remember because of my town’s forgetting spell, but that’s okay, I’ll catch you up as we go. Currently, we’re in 2026, in Times Square.”

“As in . . . you mean, the Times Square? With . . . you know, Broadway? And all the lobster palaces?”

“Lobster palaces?!” Luna laughed. “I have never heard of lobster palaces, but I am now officially desperate to see one.”

Before Shaw could respond, something large and red moved into his peripheral vision. Startled, he whirled around and found himself staring up at a seven-foot furry red monster.

“PHOTO! PHOTO WITH ELMO!” the person inside the costume shouted, gesturing enthusiastically at Shaw. “FIVE DOLLARS! VERY GOOD PHOTO!”

Shaw took a step back, his expression suggesting he was reconsidering every life choice that had led him here. “What in the hell⁠—”

“It’s just Elmo. From Sesame Street.”

“I don’t recognize any of those words, Melrose.”

“PHOTO!” Elmo insisted, moving closer.