Chapter Text
An unusual amount of activity bustled around the mortuary as Zelda stood at the stove finishing dinner. As she blew on a spoonful to test the flavor, Sabrina all but slid into the kitchen and distractedly grabbed her bag and coat off one of the chairs. Zelda dropped the spoon back into the pot as the small teenager nearly ran her over in her haste to leave.
“Sabrina!”
“See you later, Auntie! It smells great!” Sabrina tossed over her shoulder as she ran back out of the room.
“Oh… Bye…” Zelda muttered as she turned the burner off on what had been Sabrina’s birthday dinner. Abandoning the bubbling pot, she trailed after Sabrina to the foyer where she arrived in time to watch the door bang shut behind her niece, and then her sister, and then her nephew. And then all of a sudden, she was all alone in a silent house.
With a sigh, she retired to the study and contemplated how she’d become the homebody of the family as she poured herself a glass of bourbon. She shouldn’t be surprised, she supposed. She had always stayed home with Hilda but now with her mortal job and demon fiancé, she was gone as often as the kids.
After a drink or two, the alcohol’s pleasant warmth began to chase away her self-pity. After all, why was she staying home alone? It was the beginning of Samhain and if Sabrina wanted to celebrate her birthday elsewhere then wasn’t she free to celebrate the witching holiday how she pleased?
She caught sight of an old broom propped in the corner of the room in an all too appealing invitation and an idea quirked the corners of her lips into a smile. Bourbon glass forgotten, she plucked up the broom and turned out the light, remembering an All-Hallows-Eve well over a century ago…
Sleepy Greendale made a charming sight under the harvest moon as jack-o-lanterns glowed in the evening fog and watched over the mortal children running from house to house. Their bright costumes dotted the streets below while their laughter and screams of “trick or treat” filled the night.
She flew high above them, recalling all the times they had participated in the mortal tradition when Sabrina was younger, chasing after her and her mortal friends as they collected sacksful of candy. She smiled at the memory as the night air tugged at her clothes and hair. She closed her eyes and let the wind kiss at her cheeks, like a lover’s caress. Finally, she gave in to its advances and pulled out the pins keeping her hair in place, and let it fly freely for what felt like the first time in decades. She sighed as the cool air blew against her scalp. The wind changed, urging her faster and stealing the light-hearted laughter from her lips.
The mortals became specks behind her as the town fell away and gave way to woods. As she flew over the trees, she tasted the first hint the weather would take a turn for the worse. She dipped below the tops of the oaks and chased the moonlight through the branches, safe amongst the hushed whispering of the brittle leaves. The trees around her began to change, arching higher above her and blocking out the sky above her. She was close.
As she broke through the treetops the wind caught her by surprise, the chill sending an exhilarating shiver down her spine. If Hilda had been around to see her leave, she would have scolded her for not wearing a jacket. Ah well, she would be plenty warm when she got there. He always made sure of that.
At last, a manor house emerged from the shadows of the old-growth forest. To her delight, a warm glow illuminated one of the upstairs windows. She dipped the broomstick to fly down to it and promptly rapped her knuckles on the clouded glass twice.
Faustus furrowed his brow at the noise, but set his drink aside and moved towards the window. He unlatched it to find none other than Zelda Spellman perched on a broom, perfectly balanced with her legs crossed primely.
“I’m afraid I forgot my pointed hat.” He chuckled and leaned on the window sill. “Happy Samhain, Faustus.” So, it was a first name's kind of night. Lucky him.
“Happy Samhain, Zelda.” She gave him an expectant look but instead of giving her what she wanted, the corner of his mouth twitched into the barest hint of a smirk.
“What are the magic words?” Her brows knight together briefly before amusement sparked in her eyes. She wet her blood-red lips and tilted her head demurely before she purred,
“Trick or treat.”
His lips curled into a smile as he reached out and lifted her into the room. “Well, if you are going to give me a choice… I choose treat.” Through she now stood upright on the floor, he didn’t remove his hands from her hips. Her eyes lifted to meet his. They were always so intense but whether it was the unexpected visit or the holiday, tonight they glittered with their own mischievous light.
She cupped his face in her hands and guided his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly with an underlying hunger that warmed her from head to toe. Her eyes closed as her lips parted in a smile. One of his hands wandered between them, searching for the buttons of her blouse. Before she could disengage from him to help undress her, a barely audible sound from somewhere inside the house made her pause. He thumbed two of the clasps loose and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“Everything okay?” he murmured as he flipped a button at her collarbone back and forth, making the silk whisper over her skin. The storm brewing outside drowned whatever sound she’d thought she heard and it hadn’t repeated herself so she swiftly forgot about it and nodded against his cheek. Instead of returning to divesting her of her shirt, he smoothed his hands down her back and over her backside. She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him half-walk, half-carry her further into the room.
She sucked at the skin under his jaw until a low growl escaped his throat and his fingers pressed harder into her ass. When he lowered his chin, she met his heavy gaze and her breath caught when she saw the fire in the grate reflecting in the black pools of his eyes. He bit her exposed bottom lip and his fingers nimbly edged the waist of her skirt, drawing her shirt out of its confines. A thud came from somewhere far below their feet and she clasped a hand around his to still his movements.
“What was that?” she breathed.
“What was what?” he growled, not letting up. His fingers now intertwining with hers and playing along her palm and the inside of her wrists. She swallowed, as she tried to focus on the sound instead of his distracting feather-like touches and the heat of his proximity.
“I thought I heard something downstairs…” His eyes moved from side to side but the crease between his brows remained. He opened his mouth to say something but she put a hand, and consequently one of his, on his chest to stop him.
“There it is again!” It had been quieter but unmistakable.
“I don’t hear anything, Zee.”
“Listen.” They stood in silence but he only heard the snapping of the firewood in the grate and the whistling whine of the wind against the house. Well, that and their intermingled breathing as they attempted to catch their breath. He stopped listening and instead ran a finger between the clasps of her silken shirt and thumbed another of the buttons.
“It is probably just the wind.” He dipped his head and nibbled at her neck. “Ignore it.”
“What if someone is down there?” She splayed her now freed hand on his chest in a halfhearted attempt to stop him.
“We are alone, Zelda. You are my only visitor tonight, I assure you.” Her finger slipped into his stiff hair at his low voice just behind her ear.
“That you know of…” she said absently, biting her lip and glancing at the door.
“Afraid a ghost has come through the veil to interrupt us?” he chuckled and despite herself, she laughed.
“You are the one who should be worried, it might be Constance.”
“Or Edward,” he said, crowding her as he walked her back towards the bed, “I imagine he might have something to say about all the things I plan to do to you tonight.” Unable to take her gaze from his darkened eyes, her lips parted in anticipation as his husky voice ignited her imagination and chased all sense from her mind. The back of her legs bumped into his bed, and she bit her lip, wanting to give in to him and chalk it up to the wind.
“It's an old house, Zee. It makes all sorts of noise when the weather turns bad.” She nodded and closed her eyes as his hands traced down her back and reached the hem of her skirt. A crash startled her and even Faustus stilled. She arched a brow up at him.
“The old cherry tree rattling the kitchen window,” he dismissed.
“Someone is down there, ghost or not.” He nipped her shoulder hard in frustration. She gave him a simpering look. “It might be another witch knocking for you,” she teased. He flashed a coy smile, but his continued disinterest warmed her to her core.
“Or it's an insignificant mortal looking for a Samhain scare,” he said with an eye roll as he continued to inch her skirt up.
“Well, then why don’t we go and give them one?”
“Because, I have you right here,” he murmured against her flesh, his breath sending goosebumps down her arms. He left the skirt to press her back against the mattress and pinned her hands above her head. His wicked smile inches from hers. “And it is just the wind.”
The lights in the room suddenly all blinked out, leaving them in nothing but the low glowing light of the dying fire. He looked up and she also rapidly scanned the room. Nothing moved in the darkness and he shifted, releasing her wrists so she could sit up.
“The storm must have knocked out the power,” he offered in explanation. She narrowed her eyes and tried not to think about the way her heart hammered against her chest. He stood, continuing to search the room, and she put a hand on his thigh to keep him from walking away from her.
“Prosvetli,” he muttered and all the candles in the room sparked to life, bathing them in soft yellow light. She looked around but now didn’t hear anything but the wind whistling against the siding of the house. Realizing her nails still dug into the dark denim of his jeans, she retracted her hand and smoothed her blouse. The mischief in his eyes had returned when she finally looked up at him again.
“Well, whatever it was, it appears to have left.” She pursed her lips, unconvinced, which only spread the self-satisfied smirk on his face. He leaned over her, “Remind me where we were again, darling?”
She chewed the inside of her lip and narrowed her eyes, not wanting to give in so easy… but when he looked at her like that… well he was hard to refuse, and knew it. She sucked her lips between her teeth but finally hooked a finger around his collar and pulled him towards her as she leaned back.
A sharp clang echoed through the house and they both shot up from the bed. She pointedly looked at the door and back at him. He started to protest again but when a scream broke through the night. He scowled and stepped back. Knowing he’d lost, he opened the door and grandly gestured her through it out into the gloom. Now it was her turn for a cheeky smirk, she ran her nails across his chest as she walked by. “Easy on the sarcasm, Faustus. Think of it as a little extra foreplay.”
He growled low in his throat but followed her out. After the warm firelight of his bedroom, the dark house with only the uncertain moonlight filtering in through the windows to see by made her shiver. She nearly jumped when he placed a hand at the small of her back.
“Still know your way around here in the dark, dearest?” he quipped, alarmingly close to her ear. Another bang echoed up the stairs and behind her, Faustus stiffened.
“Still think it’s only the wind?” she whispered back. He remained silent.
She knew if they could have turned on the lights, she would have seen a manor plucked out of a film noir but in the dark, the house unsettled her in a way she didn’t remember. It shook and moaned in the wind and when the moon hid behind a cloud it plunged everything into a darkness that played tricks on her eyes. If it was a mortal rattling the shutters, she would let Faustus have his fun with them. At this rate, she might even join in.
She took a step down the stairs. And then another. Halfway down a loud creak met her step and she jumped back. “You’re out of practice,” Faustus whispered, his warm breath tickling her neck. She bit back her remark and kept her focus on not letting her heels click on the polished wood. The second to last step she remembered to step over, and she felt rather than heard his chuckle as they made it to the ground floor.
The white marble glowed eerily and radiated an icy chill that penetrated her silk stockings as they crept towards the back of the house, listening for the noise to repeat itself. A door slammed shut and Faustus yanked her into an alcove in the hall, both of them breathing heavily against one another. His hand remained tight around her wrist and he glanced down at her.
“If this turns out to be one of your games, you aren’t going to be able to sit down for a week,” he warned, as he looked back out into the hallway to see if anything was coming. She paused, his idea not an unpleasant one, but for effect, she rolled her eyes. At least he was finally taking it seriously.
“Why are you scared, Faustus?” He didn’t turn back towards her but she saw him flash his teeth, they were shockingly white in the darkness.
“You wish.” Something thudded against the rear of the house and she yanked him away from the expanse of the hallway. “Though, if you weren’t the great Zelda Spellman, I might think you were,” he rumbled, his hand covering hers, where two of her fingers remained hooked into his belt. She huffed and pulled her hand away. When she made to exit and carry on following whatever they were tracking, Faustus wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back in.
“You know, we could forget whichever unlatched shutter is making this noise and go back upstairs.” She had to stop herself from sighing as his arms enveloped her fully.
“We’ve come this far,” she protested, half-heartedly. He brushed her hair aside and kissed behind her jaw.
“Are you sure?” He murmured, purposely dropping his voice low until it dripped with sin and made her shiver. She swallowed hard and forced her eyes open. Faking a resolve she didn’t feel, she took his hand and stepped away from his tempting warmth back into the chilled hallway. After a grunt of complaint, he followed silently.