Page 15 of Hallows End

“I’m at your service,” he says. “I can cut and prep, but I’m not a great cook.”

“No need. You’re a guest. I hope you like fish and chips.”

“I don’t remember the last time I had them,” he admits. “Sounds great.”

“Okay, then.”

I pull the fish out of the fridge and set the oil on the stove to heat up.

“So, we established earlier today that I’m a witch,” I say as I break an egg and toss the shell into a jar for later, then whisk the white and yolk with a fork. “Now my question is, do you realize thatyou’reone, as well?”

I glance up and see Jonas’s eyebrow lift. “You think I’m a witch?”

“I know you are, Jonas. The power comes off you in waves.”

He sniffs, exhales, and narrows his eyes at me. And then, without looking away from me or moving, lights the candles all around the kitchen, one at a time.

I grin. “I never could master that one.”

“How nice it must be to be who you are. Not having to hide your gifts or worry about persecution.”

I narrow my eyes at the statement and reach for the flour. “No one is going to burn us at the stake. Not in this lifetime, anyway.”

But he doesn’t laugh as I intended. His expression is sober as he watches me dredge the fish in the egg mixture and then the flour before sliding it carefully into the oil.

“You said you’re not from Salem,” I say as I put the fries in my air fryer. “Whereareyou from?”

“Honestly, I’d like to hear more about you,” he says. “Tell me more about your Craft and your business.”

“Well, that’s easy.” I smile and flip the fish over. “I was born here in Salem, as were my parents and theirs, going back for as long as recorded history of such things—all witches, of course.”

“Were your ancestors killed in the witch trials?”

I still and then look over at him. “Of course, not. Noactualwitches were murdered in those trials, Jonas.”

“I know. I was wondering ifyouknew.”

I nod and get back to the task at hand. “My dad passed away when I was a kid. He was a fisherman, and his ship went down about ten miles out on the Atlantic, along with my two aunts’ husbands, as well.”

“That’s tragic.”

“It was a horrible time,” I agree. “I have two cousins, Lorelei and Breena. Each of the three sisters had one child. A girl. The six of us have always been extremely close. Then, my mother passed away last year.”

I say the last few words on a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.”

“Me, too.”

I look over at him and feel close to tears. Inevercry, and certainly not in front of sexy strangers.

“I don’t usually get this emotional,” I admit, brushing the heel of my hand over my cheek to wipe away the tears that managed to fall. “Have you heard of the Salem witch murders?”

His eyes narrow, and he leans in, listening intently. “No.”

“Each year, a witch is killed, usually during the Harvest Moon near Samhain. Everyone in my community lives in fear that they could be the one chosen next. A year ago, it wasmymother.”

“You don’t work any protection spells against it?” I see that his hands have tightened into fists, but it’s the only sign that he’s anythingbutcalm.