The idea that any of her fellow witches were working Halloween magic out of the goodness of their hearts made Elia huff faintly, a sound of amusement, albeit somewhat unladylike. Did goddesses huff? She would not have been surprised. Kennet could have told her, she supposed. If she had asked nicely enough, he might have regaled her with tales of a time far before her own.
Although he had never done such a thing before. And she had never really felt compelled to ask, either. Maybe after more wine.
Elia's glass was finished in short order. She refilled it immediately, pouring another generous portion for herself. There had been two bottles when she arrived, and Elia intended to be done with both of them and probably something from Kennet's infamous bar before she was finished. "Well, at least we understand one another," she drawled pleasantly in response. "If you've resigned yourself to my company, we'll have to start a new tradition. Forget the parties, I'll just get drunk in your kitchen."