Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)(87)
“I know you, don’t I? Always figured you’d deserve it eventually.”
She released me, scrunching her nose in a sweet goodbye and squeezing my hand one last time as she drew away, drifting back toward the Thorns. I watched her go, still biting back tears. How lucky I was to have such an enduring sanctuary in my best friend, and a second family in hers; the kind of generous people who could accept me back into their fold after years of distance and silence, as if I were truly theirs by blood.
Maybe I hadn’t eaten a totally unreasonable amount of kittens in my former life, after all.
Then Talia was there, drawing me into the warm, perfumed haven of a hug. I flung my arms around her, squeezing back so hard she eked out a little squeak.
“Careful there, Harlow. I know I’m your forever favorite now, but don’t love me to death just yet. Or I’ll haunt you for an exceedingly long time.”
“I can’t believe you did this!” I said, shaking my head, still a little short of breath. “I just can’t believe it.”
“Oh, it’s for the best.” She pulled back, grinning wide and dazzling at my happiness, to sweep tears off my cheeks with her thumbs. “Let’s be real, Avramovs are much more suited to subversion than governance. You’ll be way fucking better at this than I would’ve been. And it’s Samhain, right? Just think of it as both my trick and my treat.”
“I . . . thank you, Talia. Thank you so, so much.” I blinked back fresh tears, overwhelmed, so happy I almost couldn’t stand it.
So this was what people meant, when they talked about the best night of their life. I thought you couldn’t know it in the moment, that it became clear only after, viewed through the forgiving lens of hindsight. But tonight I was home, in the town that had my heart, with the wreath on my head and Talia Avramov in my arms.
And nothing else would ever come close to this.
“This is the absolute best thing,” I told her, lifting a hand to cup her warm cheek. “The best gift anyone has ever given me.”
“I have been known to be thoughtful to a fault.” Her smile widened, teeth snaring her lower lip as she nuzzled into my palm. “But don’t thank me just yet. I haven’t even told you where we’re going to celebrate.”
“Well then, enlighten me, woman.”
“The Wormwood Suite, back home. I’ve got something . . . very special in mind for us.” She tangled a hand in my hair and drew me close, for a slow, lingering kiss that made me catch my breath. “I promised to show it to you, remember, way back at the gala? And like I said, Avramovs never forget. Especially not when they’re kind of in love.”
“You are such a hopeless romantic, Talia Avramov,” I told her, laughing against her lips. “Lucky for you, I’m kind of in love with you, too. And you know what else? Matching tattoos can be very tasteful.”
“That’s the spirit, Harlow,” Talia whispered, drawing me back in. “Always knew you’d come around.”
Acknowledgments
Every book is the culmination of a long dream—but this one was special to me, a story I’ve been gearing up to tell since I began writing. It was also a refuge, a safe and happy haven in a seemingly endless, terribly difficult year that robbed so many of us of so much. As such, I’ll always be profoundly grateful to the many people who helped make this magical escape (and next step in my writing career) possible for me.
My agent, Taylor Haggerty, and all the other sorceresses of Root Literary: you spin dreams into books (and advances, heh), and I can’t imagine navigating this journey without you. I’m especially indebted to Taylor for lending me her exceptional brain to help develop the original premise behind this book. Tay, your brainstorm emails are second to none in both inspiration and comedic gold, and it’s a continuing joy and privilege to trust you with my stories.
The entire team at Berkley Books, including but not limited to: Jessica Brock, Stephanie Felty, Elisha Katz, Bridget O’Toole, Katie Anderson, and Angela Kim. You’ve done so much for me and this book already, and I feel so lucky to have you at my back.
My magnificent editor, Cindy Hwang, an all-around exceptional person—working with you is a dream in itself. I’m keenly aware of how few authors are lucky enough to ever get the kind of opportunity you extended to me; I’ll never forget how hard you fought for me and this story. Thank you for loving and “getting” the witches of Thistle Grove every bit as much as I do, and here’s to us spending lots more time with them!
My critique group buddies—Chelsea Sedoti, Adriana Mather, and Jilly Gagnon—who are always among my first readers. You’re all very shiny diamonds, and I hope our Tuesdays together stretch out as close as possible to infinity.
I’ve been fortunate to have the kind of best friends who see you staunchly through the times when life is way weirder than fiction—you know who you are and how much I love you. (But just in case there’s any confusion, you’re Danea, Sharee, Claire, Jilly, Julie, Cara, and Elisar. You have seen some things, and I can’t wait to hug you all again over gimlets.) I’ve also gotten to know some wonderful new friends in Chicago: Tereza, Mike, Sophia, and Olivia; Raquel, Rick, Ricky, Bella, and Micah; Nora, Mike, Bene, Myra, and Ella; and Alit, thank you for keeping my spirits up and being such generous neighborhood friends.