Page 105 of Enchanted to Meet You

But not Billy. Billy shot Rosalie a look so hurt, you would have thought she’d stabbed him. She, in turn, cried, “It’s not true!” She was sticking to Rule Number Eight: A True Witch keeps the existence of magic and witchcraft a secret from the non-magical, knowing that their minds are too fragile to handle the truth.

Looking at Billy’s stricken face, it wasn’t difficult to see why this rule had been created.

Rosalie whirled upon Brewster. “Excuse me, but what do you think you’re doing? None of these people here”—on the wordpeople, she gestured toward those of us who were still in the audience, and included no less dignitaries than the mayor and her wife, multiple city commissioners, and the fire chief—“are interested in hearing about—”

“Well, they should be, Rosalie,” Brewster interrupted as a crack of thunder so loud it felt as if it might tear the sky in two shook the tent. “Because this concerns all of them.”

“That’s enough, Bart,” Derrick said in a hard voice, stepping into his brother’s path.

“Oh, it’s notnearlyenough,” Brewster said. “But get ready. It will be—”

Pop!

One of the bulbs in the strand of party lights above our heads exploded. I wasn’t the only one who let out a shriek and ducked as tiny shards of glass rained down on us—especially as another, and then another popped. Lizzie and her brother screamed, too, and dove for safety beneath the table at which they’d been sitting. All around us, guests went running for the exits—then stumbled, since the rest of the tent was quickly plunged into near total darkness. Most of the votive candles had beenextinguished by the rain, and the other fairy lights appeared to have shorted out.

The only light to see by was that of the full moon, low in the night sky, and barely visible through the slowly dissipating clouds, shining through the rips in the tents.

But that light was seeming to glow brighter with every passing second.

“The demons!” Professor Brewster cried, covering his eyes as a bulb burst above his head. “I warned you!”

“Demons are the least of your problems,” Derrick snarled.

And then his right fist landed on Brewster’s face with a sickening thud—the sound they never get right on-screen, not asmackso much as asquelchof flesh striking flesh, and bones breaking.

Brewster went staggering back. Rosalie, stunned by such a violent display, let out a scream, and Esther came running down the stairs from the stage—and into my waiting arms.

“Are you all right?” I asked her.

“Yeah,” she managed to choke. She was clutching me as tightly as I was her. “Fine. I’m sorry. He sent me a text message saying to meet up, that he was with you—it wasn’t until I got here that I saw that he was lying. I would have blown his head off, but Gabby was there the whole time. I didn’t want to upset her—”

I knew then that she’d never actually been terrified. Nor was she hurt, or even slightly annoyed: she was angry. Esther was simmering with rage, and had only managed to keep that rage in check because she hadn’t wanted to frighten her girlfriend. Brewster didn’t know how lucky he was.

“Where’s Gabby now?”

“Somewhere around here, harvest princessing.”

“Was that you?” I asked. “Who blew up all the lights?”

“No.” She was holding me so close, I could feel her heartdrumming against mine. “I would never. Glass is dangerous, and there are kids here. Was it . . . was it thedemons?”

Crap.

Rosalie came rushing over to us. “Why are you just standing there?” she shrieked. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

I released Esther and turned toward her. “I thought you were the Chosen One, Rosalie. Why don’tyoudo something?”

“What am I supposed to do aboutthis?” She waved her hands in the air, indicating the wrecked tent, sodden tables, the sound booth that was now on fire, and the two men on the steps to the stage who were still slugging it out. Derrick definitely seemed to have the upper hand, however. Brewster had collapsed against the muddy ground, with Derrick standing above him. “Can’t you put a stop tothat, at least?”

To be honest, I was kind of enjoying the view. Derrick’s bow tie had come undone, and so had his ponytail. He looked like an avenging Viking in evening wear.

Still, I realized that this wasn’t exactly the positive energy that Derrick had said we’d need in order to combat the demons. Even in the semidarkness, I could see that Rosalie was crying.

“Please.” She sounded more desperate and unhappy than I’d ever heard her. “I have no idea how this became such a disaster—” She pointed toward the table where she’d been sitting with her kids, and where Billy, now slumped with a bottle of whisky he’d stolen from somewhere, was drinking. “But if you have any idea how to fix it,pleasehelp me.”

My high school nemesis, asking for my help? Wasthisthe work of demons?

But before I had time to figure it out, Esther stepped forward. “I think I know what might help,” she said.