“Black vodka and clove cigarettes, now that’s Halloween,” Hael groans in pleasure as Callum breaks out several dark chocolate bars. We each take a square and then toast our shot glasses. “To All Hallows’ Eve,” Vic says as we clink our glasses, down our shots, and enjoy the decadence of the chocolate. He glances over at me and smirks, the expression devilish buried under all that makeup. “To dark pasts, bright futures, and the power of Havoc.” “To Havoc,” I say, and then I light up.
