Page 53 of Jingle Spells

Kelly surrendered. “Thank you, darling. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I keep reaching for magic that isn’t there.”

“Happens every year,” Delilah reminded her, expertly looping the string around the turkey’s legs.

Mama laid a gentle hand on the small of her daughter’s back. “I want you to know—I do understand about the magicians.”

Delilah looked up sharply. “So you believe us now?”

“I always believed you. I just don’t think panicking is especially helpful. We handle this the way we’ve always handled magicians: calmly, strategically, and without letting them disrupt our lives.” Kelly’s eyes gleamed. “If those magicians want a fight, we’ll give them one. But first, we feast.”

On the far side of the kitchen, Jerusha had surrendered on the cranberry ceiling front and taken up berating Candace about the centerpieces. “Those pinecones should be pointing north-northwest to honor the winter solstice! Did you do them wrong? Or have they moved on their own?”

“They’re pinecones, Jerusha,” Candace shot back. “They don’t have directional awareness!”

“Um, Mama?” Delilah ventured, returning to the more pressing crisis. “About Maximillian. Are you sure hiring him was a good idea? I mean, given his history with the town . . .”

“Of course it’s a good idea,” Kelly replied, inspecting Delilah’s turkey-trussing with approval. “The forgetting spell wiped his memory of ever being our enemy. Now he’s just a mediocre stage magician with a questionable accent. Plus, keeping him close lets us monitor the doings of his colleagues. Last time, he gathered information on us, but tonight, we turn the tables.”

“You’re using him as bait,” Delilah realized.

“I prefer to think of it as strategic entertainment booking.” Kelly smiled thinly. “Now, enough conspiracy theories. Scarlett, those napkins won’t fold themselves.”

As Kelly moved away to intervene in yet another holiday crisis, Scarlett nudged Delilah. “Mama’s playing a dangerous game.”

“When isn’t she?” Delilah watched their mother effortlessly separate Jerusha and Candace, redirecting their energies to different tasks. “But I think she might be right about Maximillian. If he is working with the magicians again, tonight’s performance would be the perfect cover for whatever they’re planning.”

“So what do we do?” Scarlett asked.

Delilah caught sight of Jasper across the kitchen, peeling potatoes with the precision of a surgeon. Despite everything, he was still here, still trying to help.

From across the kitchen came a crash, followed by Kelly’s voice rising above the chaos: “Who put turmeric in the figgy pudding? Zahir! Someone fetch Zahir to come fix this!”

Delilah and Scarlett shared a look.

“It’s going to be a long day.” Delilah sighed.

“May as well eat, drink, and be merry,” her sister noted. “Isn’t that what they say?”

After all, they were Melroses. And Melroses knew how to throw one hell of a party, even at the end of the world.

Chapter 16

Now Bring Us a Figgy Pudding

Delilah frowned at her reflection. She’d already changed outfits three times, and she still wasn’t a hundred percent sold on her choice. First, she’d tried on a red dress, but it was way too “Dunder Mifflin Christmas Party.” Next, a green jumpsuit that made her look like a deranged elf. Finally she’d tried a black cocktail dress that screamed “I’m mourning the holidays,” which, okay—accurate. But perhaps not the vibe for tonight.

She’d finally settled on a midnight blue velvet number that Scarlett had conjured up before surrendering her powers. Simple, elegant, and made her feel like she belonged in one of those old movies where everyone spoke exclusively in witty one-liners and the telephones were always white.

“Come on, Del!” Scarlett’s voice carried from the hallway. “Quit stalling. Saturnalia waits for no witch!”

“I’m not stalling! I’m having a fashion emergency.”

The door burst open and Scarlett stormed in, a vision in emerald. “Oh stop it, you look perfect. Let’s go!”

Delilah looked her sister up and down, then let out a whistle. “Look at you. Nate’s going to lose his mind.”

“For all the good it does me. Hang on, do you have that buttoned correctly?” Scarlett didn’t wait for an answer, just reached for the back of her sister’s dress. “Ugh, you messed this all up in the back. Let me fix it.”

Delilah knew better than to argue; Scarlett had always been the most fashionable of the Melrose girls. If she said your dress needed fixing, all you could do was stand there and take it. “So what’s going on with you two, anyway? I’ve been gone a year, I can’t believe you aren’t hitched by now. Unless you were waiting for me to come back, of course, which would be awfully sweet?”