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“Goddess, Tally, how much shit did you get?”
Tally dropped the enormous, bulky bag of gifts onto her bed and huffed an errant bit of hair from her face. She turned to grin at Abigail, who was still staring at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. “As much as I could carry.”
“What’ve we got?” Raelle asked, joining her at her bedside. She reached for the oversized bag. Before she could pull the first item free, however, Tally sharply smacked her hand, and Raelle quickly retreated. “Ow, what the hell, Tal?”
“No peeking.”
“It’s literally sticking out of the bag! I can see it. It’s a fucking mood lamp.”
“Well, it’s not your fucking mood lamp so—“”
“It should be though,” Abigail teased. “Rae could use some mood elevating. She’s insufferable when she’s not getting laid.”
“Hey, listen,” Raelle said, “it’s not my fault my girlfriend’s literally the assholiest asshole when she’s on her period and wants nothing to do with me or anyone. Like, she doesn’t even let me in her room. I just leave little chocolates outside the door for her like a cat leaving dead mice around as presents.”
“Honestly, Scylla would probably be just as charmed by dead mice at her door,” Tally said, and Abigail snorted.
“Oh Goddess, she would.”
Raelle scoffed but then... “Yeah, she probably would,” she said with a laugh. “But I’m not doing that, so chocolates will have to suffice.”
“In the meantime, do us a favor and elevate your own mood with a little self-love,” Abigail said, and then her lips parted in an ‘o’. “I just realized what I’m getting you for Yule.”
Raelle’s nose wrinkled for a moment, but then her eyebrows lifted as she considered, and both Abigail and Tally laughed out loud.
“I like the curved ones,” Raelle said as she plopped back onto her bunk, and Abigail snorted.
“Oh, it’ll be curvy, my friend. Don’t you worry.” She turned back to Tally. “What should I get for you, Tal? Wait. Wait. Let me guess. You want a dildo with perfect posture and a general’s uniform.”
Raelle cackled so hard, she choked. “Perfect posture,” she wheezed and coughed into her pillow as her shoulders shook, and Abigail grinned like a delighted devil.
Tally stared at them both, deadpan. “I can return your presents as easily as I bought them, you know.”
“Well, knowing you, at least one of the presents you got us is a gag gift, so feel free to do so,” Abigail said, and Tally narrowed her eyes at her.
“You love my humor.”
“Meh…”
Raelle wheezed again as she rolled into a fresh bout of laughter.
“You know what,” Tally said and grabbed a towel hanging off the post of her bed. She swung to roll it then quickly swatted Abigail’s leg, making the girl squeal. “Get out, both of you.” She snapped the towel at Raelle, hitting her right on the ass. “I need to wrap these anyway.” She swatted again, harder this time, the towel popping loudly against Abigail’s thigh. “Out! Out!”
“Okay, okay!” Raelle laughed, both she and Abigail squealing and jerking to avoid the towel as they pushed each other toward the door. “Let me get my shoes at lea—”
“Out!”
Raelle squeaked and shoved Abigail out the door, both sock-footed and cackling, and Tally grinned to herself and shook her head as she was left alone with her overstuffed bag. She dumped the contents out onto her bed and began sorting them by recipient and type. Abigail was right in her assumption—Tally had made sure to get at least one gag gift and one meaningful one for each of her coven members. She’d never been able to help herself in that regard. She just loved making people smile and laugh. She always had.
She set aside the gag gifts from Witch’s Brew-Ha-Ha, the only witch-run apothecary in Salem Town that made magickal joke products. She’d gotten more than she’d planned, but once she’d been informed of the early Yule sale they were having, she hadn’t been able to stop stuffing items into her basket. She’d even tossed in a few things for herself.
She’d gotten assorted chocolates, truffles, and gummies laden with temporary truth, hair growth, and color-change potions, which she wasn’t entirely sure she believed would work, but she was very much looking forward to finding out. There were yellow and orange sour straws called Transmogri-Fries that allowed the consumer to briefly take on the physical features of random animals, which Tally knew M would love (and make them all participate in), and she’d gotten an enchanted teacup for Gregorio, who drank more tea than anyone else she knew except for maybe Harper Davies in Nike Coven. Her parents were English. The teacup was designed to make its contents disappear any time someone attempted to drink from it. It would drive Gregorio mad, Tally knew, and she couldn’t wait to laugh herself sick over him trying and failing to drink from it over and over before realizing it was a prank.
She’d even gotten gag gifts for the Biddies. There were Pre-Puberty Pops for Gretel, who always complained about not being able to hit the high Seeds she could before she was Biddied. Teleportals—rings that would transport the wearer anywhere they wanted but only within a thirty-foot radius. For Bernice, the chef of the bunch, she’d gotten a small set of Gastro-Gnomes, spice-shaker gnomes that criticized the chef’s cooking every step of the way. She’d gotten Snot Chocolates to make the Biddies’ noses run, and Hot Air Buffoons, tiny enchanted whoopie cushions that turned invisible when inflated so they could be hidden anywhere, including in plain sight, to be pressed, stepped, or sat on. Tally had never personally been a fan of fart humor, but she knew Irene was, and just imagining the old woman hiding the little cushions all over Sarah’s office in the hopes of one being set off during a meeting with Petra Bellweather, or even better, the Imperatrix… Well, such a thought was enough to have Tally snorting to herself in the privacy of her dorm.
She started stripping packaging off so she could hide the names of the items, making sure it wasn’t obvious they were gag gifts from sight alone. Then she started with the sincere gifts. She’d gotten one for each of her recipients based on what she knew they liked. She’d even gotten a bag of assorted fruits for Bernice’s famous Yule fruitcake, fruits that she promptly spilled all over her bed and had to scramble to recollect and repackage. She could only hope she hadn’t missed any.
They weren’t the fanciest gifts. Tally had never had much money. But they were meaningful and specific, and to her, that had always been what the Sabbat was about—connection. And for the General, for Sarah, for the one person she most wanted to spend her Yule with if the Goddess was merciful enough to grant such a wish, she’d gotten only sincere gifts. Three, in fact.
First, and the most expensive, was a box of Vosges scotch-infused, dark chocolate truffles—one of Sarah’s favorite secret indulgences. Second, a handmade hemp-and-flax altar cloth, because Tally knew that, to Sarah, private prayer and ritual were essential and sacred. The third and last gift wasn’t in Tally’s bag but hidden in a drawer under her bed where it had been for the last 350 days. It wouldn’t be complete for another 15 days, one year from the day the idea had first come to her. Only then could she wrap it and add it to Sarah’s others.
Tally sighed and started stripping packaging again where needed, then piled her gifts together and dug out her wrapping supplies. It was going to be a long afternoon.
“I hope I got enough tape.”
Tally was the first awake when the sun dawned on Yule. Ten seconds later, her sisters were squealed from their slumbers, and each started throwing whatever they had in reach at her. A pillow. An empty soda can. A sock.
“It’s time for presents!” Tally shouted, entirely unperturbed by the myriad objects flying at her head.
“We agreed to do them later tonight,” Raelle mumbled into her mattress. “So I can spend the morning with Scyl and Abs with Adil.”
“What?” Tally frowned. “When did we agree to that?!”
“You didn’t,” Abigail said, voice sleep-rasped and annoyed. “But we did. Two against one. Goodnight.”
“But! You guys! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to see you open your presents?!”
“You should’ve procrastinated your gift-buying like us,” Raelle said. “Now, kindly shut up and go back to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Then go see Alder,” Raelle said, half-whine, half-growl. “You got her gifts too, and she gets up stupid early just like you, so—”
“I am going to Wind Strike someone!” Abigail shouted from under her pillow. “In five, four, three…”
Tally huffed but accepted she could simply switch her day around and pop by Sarah’s office earlier rather than later. She clamped her mouth closed, and Abigail ceased counting then grumbled until she quickly fell asleep again. Tally quietly went about getting ready, then she finished the final day’s task of Sarah’s last and most precious gift. She wrapped it as silently as possible, then bagged up the other presents for Sarah and the Biddies and slipped out of the dorm.
When Sarah opened her office door, her gaze quickly slid from Tally’s face to the large satchel slung over her shoulder. One of her eyebrows inched up toward her free-flowing hair. “Tally, you know Yule doesn’t have a Santa Claus, right?”
“It does now,” Tally said with a bright laugh. “May I?”
“Of course,” Sarah said and stepped aside to allow her entrance. “Can I help you with this?”
“No, no,” Tally said. “I got it.” She looked around at the office. It was quiet and empty but for a crackling fire and Sarah herself. “Where are the Biddies? I brought them all gifts.”
“The sun is barely up, Tally,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “and this is one of only four days a year they are afforded a chance to sleep in.”
Heat flooded Tally’s chest and crawled up her neck. She felt it in her cheeks and forehead, felt it worsen when Sarah’s lips stretched around an affectionate smile. “Oh,” she said, little more than a whisper. “Right. Of course.” She shook her head and carefully set her giftbag on the floor. “I’m sorry for bothering you so early. I figured you would be awake.”
“You figured correctly,” Sarah said and motioned for Tally to join her by the fire. “And Tally, please, you know you are never a bother to me. Early or otherwise.”
Sarah was in uniform, as usual, but absent her jacket and shoes. It was odd seeing her in only her socks, but what was odder was the little spark of thrill that ignited in Tally at the sight. She quickly yanked off her warm, furry boots so she would match the woman, then settled comfortably opposite Sarah on the sofa.
“How are you?” she asked, and Sarah sighed. It was soft and light, and Tally melted at the sound of it. At the gentle gaze tracing over her face. “What?”
“Always so thoughtful,” Sarah said with a small shake of her head. “Gifts for my Biddies when others rarely think to treat them. And truly the only person who regularly asks how I am when they see me.”
Tally’s brow furrowed. “No. Really? No one else asks how you are?”
“Anacostia does on occasion,” Sarah said with a tilt of her head. “Izadora and Magda as well. But none as consistently as you.”
Tally’s frown deepened. “Oh, Sarah, that’s awful.”
“That wasn’t meant to be as self-pitying as it sounded,” Sarah chuckled, her smile widening at Tally’s use of her name. “I only meant to communicate that your natural empathy and care for others speaks volumes of your character. It is a quality that so few possess, Tally, and you have it in spades. It is refreshing and touching, and I am grateful for it.”
Tally’s blush was back. Her neck burned, and she brought a hand up to fan her skin.
“Is the fire too much,” Sarah asked, gaze dropping to Tally’s splotching skin, “or are you blushing?”
“The second one,” Tally laughed and kicked out her foot to nudge Sarah’s thigh with her toes, “but you already knew that.”
“Yes.” Sarah smiled warmly.
“Thank you,” Tally said when her heart rate normalized. “I know you’re just telling me how you feel, but you don’t do that very often, so I want you to know it means a lot to me.”
Sarah inclined her head and let her hand fall to Tally’s foot, still pressed to Sarah’s thigh. “Yule brings it out in me,” she said with a chuckle and brought Tally’s foot properly into her lap. Slowly, she began to knead it, massaging up and down the arch and around the curve of Tally’s heel. “It was my father’s favorite Sabbat, you know.”
“Really?” Tally asked, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She bit her lip to hold in the moan bubbling at the back of her tongue as she watched Sarah casually rub her foot, soothing aches she hadn’t even known she had. She wasn’t unaccustomed to casual touching with Sarah. It had been a part of their relationship, their friendship, whatever it was they’d been steadily building, for over a year now. But this, for some reason, felt more intimate than all the ones that had come before. Quick embraces, hands on shoulders and backs, the rare touch of Sarah’s forehead to hers. Tally had cherished every single one as much as anyone could cherish the touch of another. But this felt like more somehow. It felt…domestic. It made Tally’s heart race. “What was a 1600s Yule like?”
“Much the same as it is now,” Sarah said, “minus electricity. Though, perhaps, less mischievous; at least, in the New World, it was. I do have very early fond memories of my father’s mischief before we crossed the ocean.”
“Puritans ruined everything,” Tally said, and Sarah guffawed, tossing her head back.
“They truly did,” she agreed. “We had to keep our Yule celebrations rather under wraps once we were established in Salem. Publicly, we celebrated civilian Christmas.”
“Did your dad dress up like Santa?”
“Never, but he did once float down our chimney in the dead of night dressed as Krampus.”
Tally choked on nothing then pitched into a loud laugh. “Oh Goddess, what happened?”
“Hm, let’s see.” Sarah pursed her lips, pretending to think. “My sister decimated a chair with an accidental blast. My mother beat him over the head with a broom.”
“And you?”
“I slept through the entire thing,” Sarah said with a shrug, and Tally laughed even harder. “When I woke later for breakfast, he was still in costume, and I remember passing him on my way to the kitchen, still half-asleep, and saying something simple to the effect of, ‘Good morning, Father,’ as if he wasn’t sitting by the fire, dressed as a mad goat.”
Tally was laughing into her hands as Sarah grinned and kept massaging. “I think your dad would’ve liked me.”
“I’m certain,” Sarah said, no hesitation, and Tally felt her breath catch in her chest.
She cleared her throat and did her best to sound unaffected. “Abigail and Raelle are always teasing me about my love of giving gag gifts. I like humor on the holidays.”
“Gag gifts?” Sarah’s brow ticked up again. “Should I be worried about that large bag you brought in?”
Tally chewed her lip. “I mean, I didn’t get you any gag gifts, but I might’ve gotten…a few…for the Biddies.”
“A few?”
“Oh, come on,” Tally said. “It’s Yule. Let it be fun.”
Sarah sighed and pinched Tally’s pinky toe. “Fine.”
“Do you want to open yours now?” Tally asked, and Sarah stared her down.
“I’m not certain I can trust you.”
Tally snorted. “I said I didn’t get you any gag gifts!”
“Yes,” Sarah said, narrowing her eyes, “which is exactly the kind of thing a person who was trying to pull a prank on another person would say.”
“Welp! You’re just going to have to choose to trust me!” Tally giggled like a tickled little girl as she yanked her foot from Sarah’s hands and hopped up to grab the presents she brought. She collected the first one, a small rectangle she knew was the chocolates, and passed it over the back of the sofa. “Here’s the first one. Go ahead and open it. I have to dig out the other two.”
“My, opening this may require a Wind Strike,” Sarah teased. “How much tape did you use?”
Tally laughed as she heard the sound of tearing paper and dug free the second gift, soft and light in her hands—the altar cloth. She passed it over the top of the sofa, only letting go when she felt Sarah’s hand wrap around it, their fingers brushing together.
“Ah, truffles,” Sarah said as she finished unwrapping the first.
“Your favorite,” Tally replied as she located the final gift, wrapped just an hour earlier. “Found it!”
She popped up and came back around the sofa with the last gift, just as Sarah was holding out a truffle for her. Her own mouth was full around another, slowly chewing as she began to unwrap the second present with her free hand. She let out a hum of approval as the second gift was slowly revealed.
“Thanks,” Tally said as she took the offered truffle, but just as she was about to pop it in her mouth, she noticed the letters etched into the chocolate on the top. WBHH Est. 1706. Tally’s eyes widened to the point of aching. “Sarah don’t!”
But it was too late. Sarah had just finished swallowing her chocolate as she looked up at Tally, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh no,” Tally said, gaze darting rapidly between the truffle in her hand and Sarah’s slightly chocolate-stained bottom lip. “Oh Goddess.”
“Tally.” Sarah’s eyes narrowed as they’d done before, suspicious again. “What did you just do to me?”
“I swear,” Tally said, trying and failing to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. “I swear I didn’t mean to, Sarah. I swear it on my life.”
“What did you do?”
“I’m not actually sure,” Tally said quickly. “I just…I got you those whisky-filled chocolates you like so much, but this isn’t…these aren’t…These are the gag chocolates from Witch’s Brew-Ha-Ha that I got for Abigail and Raelle. I must’ve switched up the labels by accident. I’m so sorry, Sarah. I’m so, so sorry. I’m so, so, so—”
“Tally,” Sarah sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What was in the chocolate?”
“Well, I got a few different ones,” Tally said, shrinking herself into as small a shape as she could manage. “Ones with hair-growing potions. Ones with color-change potions. And ones with…”
“With?”
Tally’s face twisted to match the constipated feeling in her gut. “With truth potions,” she squeaked out, and Sarah’s eyes shot wide.
“Truth potions?!” she practically shouted. “Tally, do you have any idea how dangerous that is for someone with my security clearance, not to mention my history?”
“They’re temporary!” Tally said, attempting to redeem herself in any way she could. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. They’re temporary. I promise.”
“How temporary?”
“An hour, I think?” Tally guessed, trying hard to remember but unable to recall the estimates given on the package. “Two or three tops, I’m sure. I’m kind of sure. I’m mostly sure. I think.”
“Tally,” Sarah groaned, her head falling back on the sofa, half-opened presents forgotten in her lap.
“Did I mention how sorry I am?” Tally asked, and she’d never meant it more. “I…Look, I’ll eat one too. That way, we’re even, and…and I’ll… I’ll lock the door and turn the lights off, so no one will try to come in, and we’ll just stay here until it wears off. Nobody has to know. Well, except the Biddies, because there’s really no way for them not to know, but nobody else will know.”
Before Sarah could protest or challenge any of it, Tally shoved the truffle into her mouth and sent up a silent prayer that she wasn’t about to embarrass herself any worse than she already had. She chewed quickly and swallowed too soon. It hurt, but at least the chocolate was good.
Sarah sighed again but acquiesced. She set her gifts aside, one still fully wrapped, and rose to lock the door. She did so manually then added a sigil for good measure.
“I’m s—” Tally started again, but Sarah held up a hand.
“Stop apologizing,” she said. “What’s done is done, and, if I can trust your word, and I believe I can, it was an honest mistake. There is no sense in apologizing. Besides, you are now clearly in the same situation as me, so as you said, we are on even ground.”
“Maybe it’ll be the hair-growth chocolates,” Tally tried, “and we’ll just grow some really fabulous beards for Yule.”
Sarah chuckled and crossed to her whisky cart. “I think I would be rather handsome with a beard,” she joked. “Wouldn’t you say?”
“Honestly, Sarah, I think you’d be handsome even if you were bald.”
Sarah stopped and smiled back at her. “Is that the chocolate talking?”
“Possibly,” Tally said, brow furrowing for a moment. “How are we supposed to know?”
“If you feel mortified after having said it, it is likely Work-induced,” Sarah told her. “But then, you’ve always had a bit of foot-in-mouth disease, Tally, so who can say?”
Tally barked out a loud laugh. “Rude,” she said, “but true.”
“Would you like a drink?”
“No, of course not, Sarah. It’s not even eight in the morning.”
Sarah shrugged. “I am an alcoholic.”
Tally gaped then laughed loudly again. “Oh, my Goddess! That had to be the chocolate! We definitely ate truth potions.”
Sarah snorted, her nose wrinkling with her laugh. “You know, I do feel a bit odd,” she said and brought her whisky glass to her lips.
“Odd how?”
“Intoxicated,” she said, face briefly scrunched in thought. “I suppose that would be the best comparison.” She took another quick sip then crossed back to the sofa. “We’d better settle in.”
“We just have to avoid talking about national secrets for the next hour or so,” Tally said and nudged the still half-wrapped altar cloth back toward Sarah. “Finish opening your gifts.”
“No national secrets,” Sarah agreed and set her glass aside so she could tear the rest of the paper from her altar cloth. “This is wonderful, Tally. Thank you.”
“I know you take your prayer seriously.”
“I do.”
“It’s hemp and flax,” Tally told her. “I got it from that fabric shop you like in Salem Town.”
Sarah hummed in acknowledgement and ran her hand over the cloth. “I will bless and use it this very night.”
Tally smiled to herself, pleased. “I’m glad you like it,” she said as Sarah began to pull at the taped seams of her final present’s wrapping. “This one, though…Wait, wait.”
Sarah stilled, the present only partially unwrapped, revealing the top of a lidded mason jar. “Should I not finish?”
“I just…” Tally took a deep breath then blew it up over her warm face. “This one is actually pretty personal, and I… I guess I just suddenly got a little worried that you won’t…”
“Like it?”
“No,” Tally said, chewing her bottom lip again. “I think it’s more that I’m worried it will change things between us. Or well, that it will change things between us but not in the way I want.”
Sarah frowned. “Change things how?”
“You’ll see,” Tally said and sighed, resigned. She’d made the decision a year ago to do this, assuming she'd have built up enough courage after another twelve months of avoiding her feelings. And she was already here. The present was right there, right at Sarah’s fingertips. There was really no point in chickening out now. “Go ahead.”
Sarah hesitated only a moment longer then removed the rest of the wrapping. She stared at the mason jar, confused, curious, then slowly untwisted the lid. She poked her fingers inside to latch onto a small piece of delicately folded blue paper, one of 365 identical other pieces. She unfolded the paper so slowly it nearly drove Tally mad, and then Tally watched as blue eyes traced over the words scrawled inside.
Sarah’s expression colored with only the briefest bewilderment, then a small, amused smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. She turned to look at Tally and held up the paper. “Am I meant to answer this?”
“If you want,” Tally said. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel like you have to or should, but if you want to, I would love that. Well, maybe I would love that.” She laughed at herself. “What does it say?”
Sarah cleared her throat and read the note aloud. “It’s February and snowing. I’m wondering if you’ve ever built a snowman on base.”
“Oh,” Tally said and smiled. “Yes, you can absolutely answer that one.”
“Yes,” Sarah told her. “I have built snowmen with the fosterlings on several occasions.”
“I thought you might have.”
“Yes, Anacostia would rope me into it nearly every year until she came of age,” Sarah said. “She was quite competitive.”
“Was?”
Sarah chuckled. “Her snowmen always beat mine.”
“Because they deserved to or because you let her win.”
“Oh, please,” Sarah scoffed, “you know I would never let anyone win.” She smiled, slow and amused and so much more relaxed than usual. Then she held up the small note again. “What are these, Tally?”
“They’re thoughts,” Tally said as Sarah stared down at the note again. “My thoughts. About you.”
Sarah looked up at her again, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“Every day,” Tally said with a shrug of one shoulder, “I wrote down my very first thought of you that day, no matter what it was, and then I folded it up and put it in this jar for you.”
“Every day?” Sarah asked, her mouth still slightly agape, brow dipped.
“For a year,” Tally said with a nod.
Sarah’s eyes widened. “A year?”
“There are 365 notes,” Tally said with a nod, “including the one I added when I woke up this morning.”
Any ounce of tension harbored in Sarah’s body leaked out and away. She blew out a slow, somewhat shaky breath, and looked back down at the paper. “You thought of me when you woke up.”
Tally’s stomach erupted in a wild fluttering. Her heart clenched. “Yes,” she said without thought or care. “I always do.” Sarah’s head snapped back up, and Tally felt her entire body burn furiously. She knew her face had to be as red as the fire, but she couldn’t make her mouth stop moving. “You’re the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think about before I go to sleep.”
Sarah’s voice trembled. Her throat bobbed around a thick swallow. “Tally,” she whispered, and Tally heard it in every part of her body. Felt it like a high. She was hot and floating and terrified. Maybe that was the chocolate. Or maybe it was just Sarah’s effect on her.
They had always had something, something more, but they’d never acknowledged it, never indulged it. Tally had always been too afraid, and Sarah, she imagined, too professional. Too controlled. But now there were words in the air that Tally couldn’t take back, and Goddess help her, she didn’t want to. Sarah licked her lips and offered an understanding smile, and Tally burned and burned.
“Truth potion?” she softly asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Tally whimpered, and Sarah reached out for her. She lay a hand on Tally’s foot again then slid it up to her ankle and squeezed. “But I don’t regret telling you.”
“Good,” Sarah said quietly. “I don’t regret hearing it.”
Tally’s heart thumped its way up into her throat.
“May I read a few more now,” Sarah asked, “or would you rather I wait?”
“You can read a few,” Tally said, “or as many as you want, I guess. We are stuck in here for at least an hour after all. But I’ll only agree if you promise not to judge me for anything I say for the rest of said hour.” She laughed. “Or for whatever I wrote in those notes.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Does agreeing mean I am banned from teasing as well? Because I can do that without judging you.”
Tally snorted and shook her head. “No teasing.”
“But Tally,” Sarah said with a ridiculous and out-of-place pout that somehow still made Tally swoon, “as you said, it is Yule. Let it be fun.”
“Using my own words against me,” Tally said. “Effective strategy.”
“I am not the general of the United States Armed Forces for no reason.”
Tally laughed. “Fine.”
“Excellent,” Sarah said. “We have a deal then.” She immediately reached into the mason jar and pulled free another folded note. As her eyes scanned the words, Tally held her breath. She knew there were a few notes, or rather more than a few, that toed the line of what would be considered appropriate and a few others that crossed the line entirely. She knew of one, in particular, that obliterated the line and marched right through the debris. And Tally wasn’t sure she had it in her to have that discussion yet; at least, not while she had a truth potion swirling in her gut.
But then Sarah’s smile bloomed again until it was full and bright, nose wrinkled and the skin around her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I was just thinking about the poster of you I had on my bedroom wall growing up,” she read aloud. “My mom hated it.”
Tally snorted and got up to get herself some water from the carafe she knew Sarah kept on her bar cart. “She really did,” she said as she filled a small glass. She took a big swig then topped the glass off again and headed back to the sofa. “She never shut up about it.”
Sarah’s smile remained fixed in place. “And which image of me did this poster sport, may I ask?”
“It was the famous vintage one from the forties,” Tally told her. “You know, the Support Your Troops ads that went out during World War II. You’re standing on a battlefield, on top of a hill, holding an American flag, and you’ve got the tawny-colored uniform and the little triangle hat with the regalia. And your hair was in—”
“Victory rolls,” Sarah said, and Tally grinned and nodded. “Yes, I remember that one well.” Her smile softened, something easy and fond. “I am glad you liked it, even if your mother was less than approving.”
“Oh, I more than liked it,” Tally said, and Sarah chuckled.
She licked over her lips and shook her head. “As tempted as I am to ask you to elaborate,” she said, “I am going to refrain for your sake.”
“Thank you,” Tally said and knew she was blushing again.
“At least until you have the option to lie again,” Sarah teased.
“I wouldn’t.”
“No?”
“I mean, I will look like a lobster whether I lie or not,” Tally told her with a laugh, “so there’s no point in trying. It’s the curse of blushing.”
“Ah,” Sarah hummed. “Well, a curse it may be, but it suits you, Tally.”
Tally felt her blush deepen. Her cheeks were on fire. Her head felt like it was spinning. “Really?”
Sarah smirked. “Oh yes.”
Before Tally could obsessively ponder the answer, every single aspect of it—the tone, the word choice, the facial expression that accompanied it—and what exactly all of it meant combined, Sarah turned back to her mason jar and dug out another note. This one, she unfolded quickly and read aloud without first scanning it. “When I used to think of you, you were always General Alder, the legend. But now, when I think of you, you’re always just Sarah, and I think that is so much better.”
“Oh,” Tally said quietly as Sarah turned to look at her. She watched as Sarah took a slow breath then opened an arm to rest it along the back of the sofa. Her voice was soft, a rasp of sound that pulled at Tally’s insides.
“Come here.” She moved a few pieces of loose wrapping and the cursed box of gag chocolates aside then motioned for Tally to fill the space they’d occupied. Tally crawled over; suddenly, they were close enough to be touching. Sarah reached up to cup Tally’s cheek. She pulled her in by her fingertips, tugging at the line of Tally’s jaw, and gently pressed their foreheads together.
Tally sighed into the intimate touch and closed her eyes. “I love it when you do this,” she whispered, another quiet, immense confession given as easily as breath.
Sarah hummed. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she murmured and felt her stomach stir when the soft heat of Sarah’s breath hit her face. “I love being close to you.”
Sarah’s next breath shook. “Oh Tally,” she whispered, barely any sound. “Perhaps choosing to lock ourselves in a room together with truth potions in our systems was not the wisest course of action.”
Tally chuckled, terrified and delighted at once, and boldly raised a hand to run her fingers over one loose wave of Sarah’s hair. She hummed at the feel of it, thick and silky, just as she’d always imagined. “I respectfully disagree,” she said. “In fact, I’m feeling like it might just be the best plan I’ve ever come up with.”
With an infuriating amount of control and a tiny sound of strain that echoed through Tally’s thighs, Sarah slowly drew herself away and let her hand find Tally’s. She pulled it from her own hair and laced their fingers together, let their joined hands lay in the slim space between them.
Tally retreated a bit but held onto Sarah’s hand. “I’m not…That didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it? Because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“No,” Sarah said gently, squeezing Tally’s fingers, “you haven’t made me uncomfortable, Tally.” Her voice suddenly sounded a bit strained. “Quite the opposite.” If it were any other time, Tally might have assumed it was a lie, one given to spare her feelings, but with the truth potion they’d ingested, she knew Sarah was being honest. It sent a searing hot wave of thrill rolling down her spine.
Sarah cleared her throat again and let go of Tally’s hand to reach for her whisky. After a long pull and swallow, she let free a steady, slow exhale and selected another note from the jar. “I had a dream last night that you took me to a hidden whisky cellar in the necropolis, and you said you made all the whisky yourself. I’m convinced this is true now.”
A gritty laugh left Sarah’s lips, the sound absolutely delicious in Tally’s ears. “Unfortunately, I do not have a hidden whisky cellar beneath the necropolis.”
Tally narrowed her eyes. “I’m questioning this truth potion.”
Sarah’s laugh flowered. It spread and bloomed through Tally’s system until she was alive with the sound of it. “It is hidden beneath the Mess Hall,” she said with a wicked grin, and Tally shoved her.
“You do have a hidden cellar!”
“I do.”
“Do you make the whisky yourself?!”
“On occasion.”
“Will you take me there?”
“Of course,” Sarah said easily, and Tally’s gaze was instantly drawn to her mouth. Sarah licked over her lips, and Tally watched the swipe and slide of it. “I will take you anywhere, Tally.”
They stared heatedly at each other for one long, uninterrupted moment, and then Sarah dragged her gaze away and went back to her notes. She pulled another free and unfolded it. “I wonder if you’ve ever been in love. I wonder that a lot. I hope you have, and I hope whoever you loved deserved it.”
When their eyes locked again, Tally’s heart hammered so hard that she felt a genuine ache in her chest. They held each other’s gazes longer, zeroed in, until Sarah’s dipped. It was so fast Tally could almost convince herself it hadn’t happened at all. But when Sarah unconsciously licked her lips again, Tally knew it had. Sarah Alder had just looked at her mouth, looked at her lips like she might like to capture them with her own. She looked at Tally like she was someone to be kissed, someone she wanted to kiss.
Tally practically lunged for her glass of water. Her throat was a desert. She chugged a few refreshing gulps as Sarah dug into the mason jar again, leaving only silence to follow the last. Tally was just about to take another drink when Sarah began reading the new note, and Tally choked on her tongue trying to tell her to stop.
She failed.
“My first thought of you today came in the shower. And then I came in the shower.”
Sarah’s hand balled quickly and tightly around the note as her eyes widened almost comically, and Tally squeaked like a creature on the precipice of its demise.
“I’m sorry!” she croaked. “I’m so sorry! I tried to stop you from reading it out loud!”
“Tally,” Sarah said, and it was so quiet, so guttural, that it sounded nearly animal in nature. She leaned forward and braced her elbows on her knees, let her head hang down into her hands, the note still crumpled in her left. “What did you think would happen when you chose to give me this information?”
“Honestly, I didn’t expect anything,” Tally said, and her eyes watered even as her body burned and burned. She had no idea what Sarah was going to say or do, but she knew she hadn’t expected to be there to find out. “I didn’t think I would be with you when you read them, and I thought…I guess I thought if you didn’t feel the same way, you would just never bring it up, and we could pretend it never happened.”
Sarah didn’t look up, and for a moment, Tally was certain she wouldn’t say anything. Then… “And if I did?” she whispered. “If I do?” Her voice cracked, vulnerable, and Tally felt it like a fissure through her chest. She felt it like static electricity popping over every inch of her skin. And she was scared, truly, and sure that pressing Sarah now, on this, would be like pressing her finger to a trigger, but her boldness had gotten them this far. And she was desperate to go further.
“Do you?”
When Sarah looked up at her, her cheeks and neck were nearly as flushed as Tally’s. Her voice cracked again. “Tally, of course I do.”
“Oh,” Tally whispered in a harsh puff of breath.
“Indeed,” Sarah rasped, and her fist tightened further around the inappropriate note. “What was your plan for this outcome?”
Tally chewed her bottom lip. Her back trembled and bowed, her body keening toward Sarah unbidden. She gripped her hands on her knees to hold herself in place. “I guess…I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“You had no plan for this?”
“Well, I didn’t think you would actually feel the same way!”
Sarah softened, reached for her again. She lay one hand atop Tally’s, rubbed her thumb soothingly over her wrist. “What would you like to do?”
“Kiss you,” Tally said on instinct. The words were out before she’d even had a chance to process them. “On the mouth.” Her eyes widened as the next words fumbled from her lips, but Sarah’s closed. They clenched. “And other places.” Sarah’s hand squeezed harshly around Tally’s, and Tally choked on her own saliva. “Oh Goddess, Sarah, I’m sorry. I can’t make myself shut up. I’m so sor—”
But then that hand was tugging her, reeling her in with one sharp pull, and Sarah was swallowing Tally’s apology in a searing body-rock of a kiss that turned Tally’s world on its head in an instant. A moan shot up her throat, and she pressed and pressed it into Sarah’s mouth, kissing back with every flicker of heat licking up the length of her body, inside and out. She turned more fully toward her, never once breaking the connection, and let her hands glide their way up Sarah’s arms and into her hair. She scratched and pulled and kneaded at Sarah’s scalp as she all but crawled into her lap, eager to be closer than she suspected was even possible.
And Sarah took every move in stride, flowing with Tally like a rapid river, devouring her. A groan rumbled from her throat as she licked into Tally’s mouth for the first time, and Tally heard the sound with every part of her body. Felt it vibrate like thunder between her legs.
But just as she felt bold enough to try to slide onto Sarah’s lap, straddle her, Sarah yanked herself away with a sharp breath and shot to her feet. She was across the room before Tally had even processed the sudden absence of a mouth on hers. Tally turned to see her throwing open her balcony doors and stepping right out into the freezing winter air, a brightening gray-white sky beyond. Crisp birdsong met Tally's ears in lovely, little twitters as she stood and followed.
“Sarah.” Her tongue felt swollen, her lips slick. Her limbs were heavy and hot as she stepped out onto the balcony. It was frigid out and lightly snowing, but the cold was almost soothing. Tally had never felt so hot in her life. Her feet froze in seconds though, both she and Sarah in only their socks. But if Sarah needed to be outside, then Tally would be there with her. “Hey…”
Sarah freed a breath that Tally first thought was a sigh but quickly recognized as a Seed. Sarah was cloaking them from sight. Tally could see the shimmer of the Work rapidly wind its way around them then settle like glitter in the cold air.
“You’re hiding us,” Tally said. “Why?”
“Because I…” She swallowed thickly, audible in the crisp, winter silence surrounding them. Her hands were braced on the railing, fingers digging into the gathered snow there. “I thought the cold air would give me clarity, and I would be able to recognize and remind myself that this, us…would be an exercise in poor judgment.”
Tally’s stomach bottomed. Her heart curled in on itself and ached. “Oh.”
“But…”
“But?”
Sarah turned to face her then, and Tally nearly gasped. Her pupils were large and dark, and her cheeks and neck were dusted in pink. She looked overheated and wild and absolutely divine. Tally was mesmerized. “Tally, I have never wanted someone this way. This intensely. The way I want you, the way I have wanted you now for months. For…ever, or so it often feels.” Her brow dipped and wrinkled. “I thought it would pass. I never expected…”
Tally was trembling, but her lips spread with a smile. Her eyes burned as viciously as the rest of her. “That I would write you a note about masturbating to thoughts of you?”
“Goddess,” Sarah huffed, closing her eyes tightly again. “That image.”
“Happy Yule,” Tally whispered and stepped fully into Sarah’s space. She let her fingers fall to Sarah’s waist then slide around until she was holding her, pulling her in. Their stomachs pressed together, and Tally could feel the quivering in her own. She felt it echo in Sarah’s.
Sarah laughed, and it sounded like joy. It sounded like a cry for help, for mercy. “I always knew you were trouble.”
“Kiss me,” Tally said and pressed her fingers harder into Sarah’s back, rubbing through the material of her T-shirt.
When Sarah looked at her, Tally found her eyes soft, almost scared. Her dark lashes were dusted in snow, and her hair, still loose around her shoulders, was just as speckled. Her cold fingertips slid down the length of Tally’s cheek. “You are stunning like this, you know,” she murmured, echoing Tally’s own thoughts back to her. “Snow-coated and flushed with desire. Tally Craven, I have never wanted you more.”
Tally shook so hard, she had to tighten her grip in Sarah’s shirt to anchor herself. Her cunt clenched and throbbed. Her breath felt like fire. “So kiss me,” she pleaded again, and Sarah leaned in to press their foreheads gently together.
“This isn’t wise.”
“I don’t care,” Tally said, practically whined, and meant it. “Kiss me.”
Sarah’s back bowed, and she licked across her own lips. Pressed her forehead harder to Tally’s and took a sharp, cold breath. “Tally, if we do this… If you let me have you…” Tally shuddered at the thought of Sarah having her, taking her. “…I am afraid I will never be able to give you up again.”
Tally’s hand was in Sarah’s hair again, sliding up under the chilled wave of it and gripping just at the base of her head. Her thumb rubbed over Sarah’s earlobe. “Good,” she said, her voice gravel and need. “Kiss me.”
And Sarah did.
Hard. Deep. A kiss to steal and give breath in a single press. A kiss so deliberate and so hot Tally felt it all the way to her toes, felt it like fire in her lungs and static in her brain. She was dizzy and wired and so, so wet, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever stop unless Sarah made her. Unless someone bodily pried her from Sarah’s lips, and Goddess help whoever dared. Tally would Strike them dead before they even—
“Where the hell is Sarah?”
Tally and Sarah jerked apart so forcefully and wildly that Tally nearly fell on her ass. Sarah’s hands caught her just in time, but the choked sound of surprise echoed from Tally’s throat all the same, and seven pairs of eyes suddenly snapped straight to the balcony.
The Biddies had all filed into the office unnoticed, uniformed and well-rested, and drawn instantly to the empty but obviously recently occupied sofa. Now they stared intensely at the seemingly clear balcony only for Rita to quickly fire out a Seed that shook the air around Tally and Sarah. Tally then watched as the dancing shimmer that had so expertly cloaked them trembled and began to crack. Seconds later, Tally was truly face to face with the seven women now wearing a comical variety of expressions—everything from knowing smirks to dropped jaws.
“Well, well, well,” Rita said, crossing her arms over her chest, “if it isn’t our little Sarah having an illicit Yule rendezvous with the ornery cadet she swore to the Goddess she had no feelings for just the other day.”
Izzie cackled. “Fuck, I love Yule.” She shook her head and clapped a hand to Rhian’s shoulder. “Looks like someone owes me their dessert rations for a week.”
“Damn it, Sarah,” Rhian grumbled. “Why couldn’t you keep it in your pants?”
“It is in my pants!” Sarah fired back, and Tally was suddenly torn between a whimper and laugh. She had no idea how she was supposed to react to being caught doing…whatever it was they were about to do. As always, though, she did her best to help the situation.
“I brought presents,” she announced and pointed to the large bag behind the sofa. Shockingly, it worked. The Biddies’ all turned toward the bag in almost eerie synchronicity, and their eyes lit brightly.
As they tore into the gifts, temporarily distracted, Tally turned quickly back to Sarah. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and Sarah sighed.
She urged Tally back into the warm office and closed the balcony doors behind them to shut out the cold. Just inside, she pulled Tally into a full, unexpected embrace. She held her close, arms gripping tight, nose dipping into Tally’s hair. She inhaled, and Tally heard it, felt it. She closed her eyes and held Sarah as tightly as she was being held. Sarah's nose nudged her hair aside, the tip grazing over her neck. Sarah placed a small peck of a kiss there, and Tally trembled in her arms. “Tally, I can’t recall a time when I have been better.”
Tally knew her fingers had to be digging into Sarah’s back, but she couldn’t relax. Her entire body quaked in Sarah’s embrace. “We need to be alone,” she whispered and felt her own thick swallow like a jagged stone bobbing up and down her raw throat. Her eyes stung with tears, and her pulse hadn’t stopped thumping in her neck, in her ears, between her legs for what felt like hours now. “I need… I need to be alone with you.”
Sarah pulled back enough to catch Tally’s gaze. Her lips parted, but before she could speak…
It shredded the air in an obnoxiously loud ripple—a truly horrendous fart sound that immediately had Tally’s face reddening and Sarah’s stretching into the purest show of horror Tally had ever seen.
And then the Biddies were all screaming with laughter but none louder than Izzie, who was redder in the face than even Tally and pointing at Gretel, who had just accidentally sat on a strategically placed Hot Air Buffoon. Izzie barreled over and scream-laughed at her own knees, and Tally couldn’t help herself. Her gaze darted back and forth between Izzie’s delight, Gretel’s amused confusion, and Sarah’s horrified shock. And the next thing she knew, she was laughing just as hard as the others.
“Tally, you didn’t,” Sarah said, voice thick with dread.
“She did,” Izzie all but cheered between laughs. “Oh, Tally. I love you.”
Tally snorted and smiled. “I love you too, Izzie. I’m glad you like them.”
“What other horrors await?” Sarah asked, and Gretel released the most high-pitched chuckle Tally had ever heard. Like a mouse squeak-laughing from under a cabinet.
The old woman popped a crimson sucker from her mouth and smiled. “You’ve got to relax, Sarah,” she said in a tinny mosquito voice that made Tally’s belly bubble with laughter again. “You’re going to give yourself a hemorrhoid with all that proper restraint.”
“I assure you,” Sarah said, “the last thing I have practiced today is proper restraint.”
“I mean, still too much restraint if you ask me,” Tally said before she could stop herself. The words just leapt from her lips like they belonged to the air. “Proper or not.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “Nobody asks us anything!” she all but roared. “No questions! From any of you.”
“Nobody even asked a question!” Bernice said as she pulled the second of five enchanted gnomes from its wrapping. “What is wrong with you two?”
“We are under the effects of a truth potion,” Sarah immediately answered, then groaned. “I said no questions, Bernice.”
But Bernice had zero care. And she wasn’t the only one. Rita had turned sharply at the confession and locked eyes with Sarah. A grin so wicked it could be classed as a war crime crawled over her lips, stretching them wide. Her brow dipped with her evil intent, and Tally’s palms began to sweat. “A truth potion,” she repeated, and Sarah suddenly shoved Tally so hard that they both stumbled over their own feet and barely managed not to fall.
“Go.”
“So, Tally,” Rita drawled, and Sarah shoved her again, this time toward the bookshelf Tally knew hid the door to her private rooms, “how are you feeling today?”
“Don’t answer!” Sarah commanded as she activated the door, but Tally’s mouth was already open, and the words flew out of her throat just before Sarah all but picked her up and tossed her over the threshold.
“Honestly, so, so horny,” Tally’s voice echoed out into the office, and the last thing she heard before the bookshelf shut them off from the others was Rita’s diabolical belly laugh, Gretel’s high-pitched wheeze, and Sarah’s strangled groan.
Tally winced in the dark of the small passage leading to Sarah’s rooms. “Sorry,” she mumbled for what felt like the hundredth time in just an hour or two.
But Sarah’s groan morphed. It grew. Until she was laughing like a perfect song and grabbing Tally by the waist in the dark. Pressing her back to a cold wall and coating Tally’s mouth with her own. Kissing her soundless and breathless and so very, very awake and alive.
When Sarah rolled them down the length of the passage, tugging Tally’s sweater off as they went, Tally could only thank the Goddess for the magick of Yule and the wonder that was Sarah Alder kissing laughter and promises into her skin.
“Wait,” Tally said with a gasp just as her back hit Sarah’s soft mattress.
Sarah froze. “What is it?”
Tally’s eyes bulged in horror. “We left the notes in the office. With the Biddies.”
For a moment, Sarah paled. Then her eyes quickly closed, and Tally knew she was communicating with the Biddies. When they opened again, relief flooded Sarah’s face. “They won’t read them.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am certain,” Sarah said and yanked her own T-shirt up over her head. She let it fall to the floor beside her bed. “They know when I am serious.”
“And when you’re full of shit?”
Sarah sharply rolled her eyes but admitted, “Yes.” Then kissed Tally breathless again.
As she sat with her coven around Sekhmet’s common room, Tally had never felt more relaxed or happy. She could still feel the ghosts of Sarah’s hands on her, Sarah’s mouth mapping her. She could still hear Sarah’s voice, sex-deep and promising, whispering how wanted Tally was, how hot she was, how she’d made Sarah ache. Tally shuddered, bit through the middle of a smile threatening to overtake her face and drew her sweater more tightly around herself. She balled her knees up to her chest and sighed. What a perfect Sabbat.
Across the table, M, the lower portion of their face morphed into the nose and mouth of a gorilla, cackled at the impressive handlebar mustache forming around Raelle's lips. Beside Raelle sat Abigail, whose eyes, teeth, and tongue were an unsettling blood red in color since she’d downed a potion-dosed chocolate. Tally had made sure to pull Sarah’s whisky chocolates from the present pile to give to her later. She’d let Sarah trash the other truth-potion chocolates, the general not trusting anyone with their disastrous (perfect, Tally mused) power. But she’d still had color-change and hair-growth candies to give, and her friends were having a blast with them.
Gregorio was across the room at the tea kettle he’d brought from home and set up in their common room. He clicked to start reheating the water, having mumbled something about apparently drinking his tea so fast he couldn’t even remember drinking it. Tally had simply bitten her tongue and waited for him to start all over again, barely holding in her laugh.
“Wait, I’m missing one,” Abigail said, looking over the packages on the table, some unwrapped, some still hidden. “I had two for each of you, but I’m only counting seven. Did one of you open one already?”
“No, we’ve only opened Tally’s,” Raelle told her. “Well, I opened M’s, but it doesn’t really count, because they got me socks, and like…that’s not a gift. That’s a necessity.”
“Hey!” M laughed. “You didn’t put them on yet!”
“Oh, excuse me,” Raelle mocked. “Let me don these super special socks then.”
As Abigail went back to the dorm to find her missing gift, Raelle yanked the socks on over her already socked feet and let out a loud yelp. “It feels…” she started, but the words weren’t needed as she suddenly started to float out of her seat. All the while, her handlebar mustache grew and grew, circling back along her jaw then up onto her head like some sort of ugly, fuzzy scarf-hat on top of her hair.
M cackled again, an embarrassing hee-haw ripping through the air as half their head transformed into that of a donkey.
Raelle pointed back at them and wheezed, floating in the air in a seated position like a little Buddha with a hideous haircut.
Tally was crying with laughter by the time Abigail returned from the dorm, a cleanly wrapped present in one hand and something yellow in the other. A deep frown on her face.
“You guys,” she said, “there was a fucking lemon under my bed.”