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“I don’t know why I bothered to stay open, after this morning,” I said, telling the dragonette about what had happened. “I never thought I might need some sort of mundane protection like a baseball bat, but if Bran hadn’t showed up at just the right moment, I could have been in serious trouble. That guy was pissed.”
“You thinking of buying a gun?” Fancypants asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “You know, it pays to have a shotgun or a rifle when you live this far out. We do get bears and cougars, but honestly, I don’t think I want one around. I’m so hot-tempered, I might just go off the rails at the wrong time. I have a security system, but that doesn’t take care of immediate problems facing me right across the counter.”
“True,” he said. “And even if it did, the cops would likely still take at least ten to fifteen minutes to get out here. You’re on the outskirts of town and the sheriff’s department is small, at best. I’d say buy a baseball bat, some pepper spray or mace, and then think about what else you can do to protect yourself.”
“I definitely need to strengthen and repair the wards.” I told him what I’d found when I was out on the web. “I’m not sure what broke through, but whoever did so, has to be strong.” I opened the fridge, peeking in. “I forgot to eat lunch, and dinner’s not until seven-thirty. We’re going to May’s for dinner, by the way.”
Gem came rubbing up against my ankles and I swept her up, kissing her nose. I’d adopted her and Silver on the same day back in August. Silver had belonged to a little girl who was murdered, and her father had made veiled threats against the cat, so I took him before the asshole could make good on his threats. Then, deciding he needed a playmate, I adopted Gem while waiting for the vet to finish examining him. The pair had made themselves at home, fitting in perfectly.
“No, you and your brother aren’t going with us,” I said. Gem wasn’t my familiar, and neither was Silver, but both understood Fancypants—after a fashion—and he could communicate with them on a rudimentary level. At least they understood why I took them to the vet, and why they needed to keep out of certain things. That didn’t mean they always obeyed, but they understood.
“I’m going to make myself a grilled cheese,” I said. “Would you like something?”
Dragonettes had endless gullets. Fancypants had eaten so much since he’d hatched that it seemed he should be far bigger than he was. But dragonettes grew slowly—so slowly that it would be another decade before he was out of his childhood. Emotionally, he was like a young adult. Mentally, he was as spry as I was. But physically, the cat-sized member of the dragon family was still a toddler.
“Tuna?” Fancypants wasn’t an obligate carnivore like a cat, but he leaned that way. He ate more protein than anything, though he had taken a liking to cinnamon toast, macaroni and cheese, and potato soup.
“I can open you a can of tuna. You do know the cats are going to complain. How about if I open two cans and give them a few bites?” I didn’t give the pair human food often, but they got tidbits of lunch meat and tuna.
As I fixed lunch, grilling my sandwich to gooey perfection and heating up some tomato soup to go with it, the phone rang. It was Bree Loomis, my best friend. She owned a hiking company, giving tours through the Olympics and other parts of the Olympic Peninsula.
Starlight Hollow was on the coast of Dabob Bay, between Quilcene and Brinnon, off of Highway 101. A town predominantly inhabited by shifters and witches, the magic of the land mixed with the magic of the people, and created an area heavy in paranormal activity. Starlight Hollow had around three thousand people, if that, but it was a beautiful town, and I was happy that I’d made the decision to move here from Port Townsend, which was forty-five minutes north, on the winding roads.
“Hey, Bree. What’s up?” I sat down at the table with my soup and sandwich as Fancypants and the cats attacked the tuna.
“Did you hear about Kaiser Thornton?”
“What did he do this time?” Kaiser Thornton was the town bully and drunk. Why his parents had elected to name him Kaiser, eluded me. He was a bear shifter, not the brightest bulb in the socket, and he was constantly in trouble with the law. Daisy Parker—our sheriff—had a cell with his name on it in the city jail. Kaiser was always getting into fights, and he was usually the one starting them.
“Kaiser’s in the hospital. Nobody knows what happened, not even Kaiser, but he was stumbling around drunk last night, and one of the deputies found him sprawled out in back of the laundromat. He looked like he’d been used as a punching bag. Kaiser can’t remember who did it, or what he was doing by the laundromat, but he’s not going to be drinking for the next few days. Whoever clocked him, injured his spleen and they may have to operate.”
“Holy fuck. I hate to think how big the other guy has to be, if he can leave Kaiser that messed up. Did Daisy have any clue? How did you find out?”
“It’s in the news. The cops have no clue who did it, so they’re warning people to be careful.” She paused. “Hold on, I need to refill my coffee.”
I waited, thinking that coffee sounded good. Actually, a mocha sounded better. As I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring outside, a whirl of wind stirred up the leaves, blowing them like a whirlwind. The sky was darkening, and I could sense rain coming in, and thunder with it. We were due for a storm.
“Thanks,” Bree said. “I can hardly wait to be done for the day. I just want to get home and eat a quiet dinner with the dogs.” Bree had two dogs, a black lab named Atlas, and a mouthy, loud husky named Oscar who would sing you the song of his people at the drop of a hat.
“Tell me about it,” I said. “I had the morning from hell, then an afternoon so empty that it makes me wonder whether I should keep the shop open.”
As we talked, a flash lit up the sky, neon white with streaks of blue along the forking lightning. Less than five seconds later, a rumble shook the house. The lights flickered briefly, and I carried my phone into the living room, where I flipped the switch on the wood stove. It had an automatic pilot, but it could also be lit by hand. Modern, energy efficient, and air tight, it passed all EPA regulations and it kept the living room toasty even if the power went out.
Then, settling on the sofa as the storm began to rage, I pulled a hand-knitted throw over my legs and—as the cats curled by my feet—I proceeded to tell Bree about everything that had happened this week, from the doctor visit to Owen to my customers from hell.
CHAPTER THREE
As I ran from the car up the steps to May and Bran’s house, Fancypants frantically beat his wings, following me. Once we were under the shelter of the porch, I relaxed. It was chilly, but at least the power had held through the unexpected thunderstorm, and now the storm had turned into a steady rain.
A few of the roads would be flooded by morning, but they always took a beating during the rainy season, and the town council was in the middle of discussing whether or not to elevate them. It would cost money that the town didn’t have, but it would make it easier to get around during the autumn. Though it had occurred to me—and I hoped a few others—that elevated roads and overpasses during the winter accumulated ice, which would put them out of commission during the coldest parts of the year.
May answered the door in her apron. She was wearing an old Laura Ashley floral dress that was faded but perfectly serviceable, and a matching sage apron over the top. Her hair was caught back in a long ponytail, as silver as the moon.
Together with her son Bran, she owned Brambleberry Farm, the last house on our road. The two were my closest neighbors, and together they farmed their suburban farm, selling vegetables, fruits, honey, and magical charms year round. May was the product of a bygone era, and her house reflected that.
A large farmhouse, at one time a hundred years before, it had reigned over twice the acreage. By the time May and her late husband bought it, the land was down to five acres. While he had gone to work, she had slowly reclaimed the farm, creating a fairyland out of a wild tangle. Now, the house shined under the loving care of May and her son, and the land prospered under their loving but firm hands.
