Page 20 of Kiss and Spell
Everyone else wore the traditional pastel pinks, yellows, and greens of the spring season, while Ursula stood out in the oceanic shade. It was a bold move, but she wanted to start off the spring season strong. Enchantresses didn’t wear muted shades; they were seen and admired like a precious stone.
This dress was Gwen’s, who’d let Ursula borrow it only if she texted her from the party.
“Text me when you get there,” Gwen had demanded. “Text me throughout the evening.”
“I’ll text you. I promise.”
Ursula focused on the moment at hand. She took her phone from her clutch and sent a message: Got here safe. Thanks for everything. XOXO
Gwen’s response came almost instantly: Go, do everything I wish I could. Then do it again.
Ursula sent a text to Xavier letting him know she arrived.
He responded: Thrilled to have you here. Will find you in a moment. Handling a flower emergency. Be with you soon.
She tucked her phone back into her clutch. Ursula walked around the party while beings and creatures chatted and gossiped. A considerable hush went over the room when they saw her. It seemed that she was magically infamous, the psychic who couldn’t see her own downfall. Humans gave her the side-eye and wary looks, while supernatural beings gave a low hiss of interest.
Every time Ursula spoke to a guest, they gave her a stiff smile, listened for a moment, and walked away with a wave. Even the crushed-velvet-wearing vampires didn’t make eye contact. She was starting to feel like a party foul in human form, as if she stunk up the place. Ursula went to the drink table, scanning the selection of water bottles and soda cans in a bin of ice.
A random horned partygoer bumped into her arm.
“Don’t get too close,” a deep voice hissed behind Ursula. “I hear bad luck is contagious.”
Cold fury roiled in her gut. She turned to see a few guests peering at her over the top of their drinks. The one guest, with his all-black clothes, ghoulish facial features, sunken cheeks, and bug eyes, gave her a stare full of mockery. Of course, he’d been the one with the snide comment. Ghouls were notorious in the Grove for feasting on other folks’ misfortune. She’d dealt with them since she was a baby witch and usually didn’t let them rattle her nerves. But when Ursula felt so unsteady in her own skin, she couldn’t let that comment slide. She’d already dealt with enough high school drama in her life, and she wasn’t going to do it again when she was on the other side of thirty. Ursula faced him fully.
The best way to deal with a ghoul was to put them in their place.
“I’m sorry to hear the news,” she said, injecting her voice with sympathy.
“What news?” the ghoul snapped. Folks were crowding around watching their exchange. If they wanted to see the sideshow act in person, then Ursula was going to give them a show to remember.
“I heard the local haunted house didn’t hire you back last year,” Ursula said.
“I… Don’t… How dare you.” His pale face became mottled with anger.
She waved a hand in his direction. “That’s why you’re dressed like a Halloween decoration in March, right? So you don’t have to shop at Party Zone year-round.”
Shocked gasps and laughs went through the crowd once they heard her comeback. Ursula wouldn’t lift her pinky finger to hex him, but she wasn’t above reading him like a library book. Mr. Ghoul breathed deeply and fixed a brittle smile on his face. He walked forward, stopping in front of her. He stood close enough to Ursula that she could make out the half-moon shadows underneath his gray eyes.
“I’m surprised you still have a sense of humor,” he said softly, yet coldly. Ursula stilled at his icy tone. From his gaunt features and sullen expression, he looked like he needed a year’s sleep and wouldn’t hesitate to steal it from her. Maybe she should have ignored him, but it was too late for regrets. She reached up and touched her aquamarine necklace, drawing power from the gem.
Calm your heart.
“I like to laugh,” she said in a small but steady voice.
“Well, I have a joke for you,” he said. “What do you call a bride without a groom?”
Ursula shrugged.
“You call her a never wed,” he said, his words dripping with ridicule. “A never wed. Isn’t that funny?” Those gray eyes clawed into her skin like talons, causing a ripple of pain to vibrate over her body. She’d have to check to see if he’d drawn blood with those razor-sharp words.
“Hilarious,” she whispered roughly.
His expression became openly amused as he seemed to think of something else to say. “Enjoy the party. Who knows? You might get lucky and find the next man who’s going to ditch you.”
She bit back a curse, recalling a key fact about these beings that she blocked out. Ghouls had the nasty ability to see your secret shame and lay it bare for the world to see. When she was young, they teased her mercilessly about Dad moving off to Meadowdale with his brand-new family. She’d managed to bury that hurt under her polished, prim exterior so that the ghouls would leave her alone.
Now she was laid bare, and her fresh pain made her a moving target.