The Ex Hex (Ex Hex #1)(61)

So far, Vivi knew more about curses than she’d ever thought possible. She knew the best moon phases for casting them, knew that wormwood made them stronger, knew that in 1509, a witch had managed to curse not just a town, but six different German principalities at once.

What she didn’t know was how to lift a curse.

Typical that that was the bit witches wanted to be vague about.

Distracted, she moved to the other end of the booth, rearranging the display of candles, making sure the something wicked—come visit us in town! sign was straight, and only when Rhys called her name did she look back over at them.

He was holding The Star, her card, and smiling. “This seems like a good sign.”

Vivi wandered back over, leaning against the counter as she plucked the card from Rhys’s hand. “Depends on where it is in the spread,” she said, and Gwyn tapped the spot where the card had been lying.

“We’re going simple past, present, future. You’re the present, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she echoed, and her eyes met Rhys’s again. He was smiling at her in that way he had that was both sweet and fond, and also somehow let her know every filthy thing he was thinking of doing to her.

It was really one of her favorite smiles on the planet.

Gwyn was turning over the third card, the future spot, as Vivi looked at the past. Rhys had pulled The Lovers there, also not a surprise, but when Gwyn laid the third card down, she scowled at it.

“Ugh, The Emperor.”

“He’s not bad,” Vivi objected, but as she looked at the version Gwyn had drawn, she had to admit, he looked a little foreboding. It showed a man in a dark suit sitting on a wooden throne that looked like it had been carved out of an ancient tree. There was silver in his beard, and he was frowning out from the card, a heavy ebony cane in one hand.

“It’s not bad,” Gwyn agreed, tapping the card. “It’s just, you know. Authority. Rules, structure . . .”

“My father,” Rhys said, and Gwyn nodded, picking the card up.

“Exactly, he totally represents—”

“No,” Rhys said, and something in his voice made Vivi look up at him.

He had turned around and was looking out into the crowd, his expression grim, as a dark-haired man in black made his way across the fairground to them, Aunt Elaine several steps behind.

Rhys turned to Vivi, his eyes serious. “It’s my father. He’s here.”





Chapter 27




Rhys had thought it was odd seeing Vivi in his father’s house, but that had been nothing compared to seeing his father in Vivi’s house.

Well, her aunt’s house, technically, but it might as well have been Vivi’s for as much time she spent there, how natural she looked sitting at her aunt’s kitchen table, a mug of steaming tea at her elbow.

Simon looked a little less natural, but then, to be fair, he was staring at a talking cat.

“Treats?” Sir Purrcival asked as he attempted to headbutt Simon’s arm. “Treeeaaats?”

“What on earth is this abomination?” Simon asked, drawing his arm back even as Gwyn rose from her seat and heaved the cat up off the table.

“He’s not an abomination, he is a precious baby. Although we do need to work on his table manners.”

“Mama,” Sir Purrcival purred, looking up adorably at Gwyn as she carried him out of the room, and Rhys saw his father give a shudder before reaching for the mug of tea Elaine had brought him. It got about halfway to his mouth before he seemed to think better of it, setting it back down so hard it sloshed over the side.

“It’s not poisoned,” Elaine said, coming to sit next to Vivi, briefly patting her niece’s shoulder as she did.

Sniffing, Simon pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at the spilled tea. “Given this family’s predilection for harming members of my family, you understand my concern.”

“Da,” Rhys said, his voice low, and Simon flashed him a look Rhys had seen a thousand times before: that mix of irritation and warning, plus just the slightest hint of bafflement, as if Simon could not believe this was his son.

“Am I wrong?” he asked Rhys now. “Do you or do you not find yourself under a curse placed by this very coven?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Elaine said, stirring a spoonful of honey into her tea. “We’re not a coven. We’re a family. And this curse is very much accidental, as both Vivi and Rhys have explained.”

Simon sniffed at that, sitting up straighter in his chair. “There’s no such thing as an accidental curse. And now, thanks to this foolishness, this entire town, my family’s legacy, is apparently cursed as well. Now, from what I can gather, this has resulted in several accidents, plus a ghost being loosed, and also that living nightmare you call a cat.”

Gwyn had just walked back into the room, and now she leaned against the doorframe between the kitchen and the hall, folding her arms over her chest. “Seriously, dude, don’t care whose dad you are or how fancy a witch you are, keep talking shit about my cat, and I will personally kick you down this mountain.”

Simon started to go a little purple in the face at that, so Rhys stepped forward from his own spot near the stove, hands lifted. “All right, let’s all just calm down and focus on the matter at hand.”