Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

I knock on the front door holding a single red rose. Gil answers.

“Aaaah, my lovely. You do not do things by halves.”

I laugh. “Where’s my date, Gil?”

“Being held up by the rest of the court who are utterly amused by this turn of events. Step in. You are truly a vision.” Gil takes my hand. “Spin.” I slowly rotate, and he clucks his approval of the lightweight boat neck, strapless, blush-colored dress with a pastel floral pattern across the top to the waist and along the top of my thigh down to the end of the dress that stops at my calf. I’ve ditched heels for a simple pair of pale pink canvas shoes perfect for walki

ng the city.

I’ve pinned my hair off my face in a chignon.

“Do I pass inspection, my good sir?”

“Oui.”

I laugh. “I’ve missed you.”

“I see I’ve missed all the action while in France, but I have secured the things we will need for your coronation. Soon we will try on your dresses?”

“Yes, the date is speedily approaching.”

“And yet you no longer seem nervous.”

“There’s something about fighting for your life that places things into perspective.”

He hugs me. “Come, cherie.” He pulls me in and shuts the door.

“Look at that, Mom and Pop are going to paint the town.” Renee lets out a low wolf whistle.

“Stop it.” My face heats, and he laughs roguishly. I think he was a pirate in another life. With his blinding white smile, mischievous nature, and the rock-like diamond in his left ear, it’s not hard to imagine.

“You look good.” He comes over and kisses my cheek.

“Thank you.”

Ada and Ruby rush over.

“Is everyone here?” I ask.

“Oh, we weren’t about to miss this for the world, poppet,” Ruby drawls.

Ada laughs. “It’s a big deal when we see the boss man thrown for a loop.”

I grin, pleased to hear my plan is working so far.

“Where is my vampire boo?” I ask, knowing he can hear me.

“Your wh-what?” he sputters.

I giggle as laughter fills the space, shaking out the stale air of discord left behind after our fight.

“Welcome to dating in the twenty-first century,” Luz says. Her full-bodied laugh is infectious.

I watch amused as Luz, Miles, Percival, and Larkin flank Cristobal down the hall.

“We expect you to treat him well you know,” Marcellus says, joining us from the opposite end of the hall.

“I will.”