Page 3 of The Baker and the Kraken

Thankfully, in the chaos of all that shrieking and scurrying, Adam had been able to escape. Getting soaked on the way to the van had seemed a small price to pay, and the rain had helped with getting some of the cake and icing off.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Maggie for what was probably the ten-thousandth time since she’d appeared in the kitchen, seen his utterly ruined state, and listened to his pitiful explanation of what had happened.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t actually the first time a disaster had occurred because of Adam, but it was definitely the most spectacular. He’d never fallen into a cake at a Divine Confections event before. He wondered if the photographers had gotten any photos. It was probably not the way that Charlene had wanted to commemorate her shower.

Maggie hadn’t yelled. She didn’t, generally. She was fifty-six, her red hair just starting to gray at the temples, and he’d always thought that she was what a mom was supposed to be like. Her red squirrel familiar perched on her shoulder and chittered at Adam, but she didn’t seem to be scolding. Maggie knew he didn’t mean to be clumsy, although she’d instituted her rules for a reason. At least with a witch-run establishment, he didn’t have to fill out a DWC1 injured worker form. It had happened so frequently in normal-people-run establishments that Adam had realized he couldn’t keep working for them. A witch shouldn’t draw attention to himself.

“I was just trying to help,” he said, shoulders slumping.

She squeezed his arm gently with fingers that looked noticeably more relaxed and straight than they’d been before she’d visited the medical witch. That was something, at least.

“I know you were, honey. It’s alright.”

Morosely, Adam pointed out, “I’m sure Charlene is going to call and yell.”

“I’ll deal with her,” Maggie assured him.

Adam was pathetically grateful. He didn’t think he could handle dealing with the woman after what had happened.

Simon was grinning. “Tell us again how the hottest man to ever hot caught your attention?”

Adam groaned, once again regretting that he’d been so frazzled when he got back that the whole story had spilled out.

“Don’t remind me! I tripped face-first into a cake while he was watching. The only saving grace in this whole debacle is that I’ll never see him again.”

Adam’s clumsiness meant that he’d been in a great many embarrassing situations over the years, but this one had, well… it had taken the cake.

Chapter Two

Calder

The last thing Calder had expected was to catch sight of his mate in the botanical gardens soon after a new year dawned. The years had blurred together and almost ceased to have meaning to him; it had been centuries since he’d felt truly optimistic about the arbitrary change from one year to the next that so many people seemed to view as a time for new beginnings. It was the reason many of his kind slept for decades or centuries, taking a break from the sameness.

On the other hand, there had never been so much technology on the planet, and that was a change that was wreaking havoc with the World Spell. There’d never been so much plastic or so much pollution, either, although, thankfully, people were beginning to make firm strides in finding more sustainable options.

There was a tiny part of Calder that missed the days when a giant kraken could simply capsize a few ships and convince people that they’d better mend the error of their ways. People these days were so out of tune with nature and the underlying magic of the world that they missed all sorts of warning signs—and most of them had no idea that there was a mate out there for them, nor would they realize it if that mate showed up right in front of them.

But Calder was old, and he’d been in harmony with the world around him for a long time. The moment he’d spotted the man, he’d simply known, to the very depths of his soul. It was an immense relief. He’d wondered over the many years if maybe he wasn’t looking carefully enough. It was one of the reasons he and the other mythical shifters tended to move around over the centuries, just in case their mate was somewhere they were not. With enough time, it was possible to visit basically everywhere—only you never knew if you were visiting the right place at the right time.

Calder had long ago committed to leaving himself open to the influence of the Magic and chance—and it seemed like today that stance had paid off.

Only then his mate had fallen into a cake and chaos had ensued.

Calder hadn’t actually meant to summon the rain. He’d gaped like a fool at first, as he’d never actually seen someone fall into a cake in real life, and then the yelling had started—and then Calder had seen the blood on his mate’s face, and he was ashamed to admit that he’d lost control of himself a little.

His only thought had been to make the screaming pink harridan stop screaming at his mate. On land, rain was his best weapon. Only in the chaos, his mate had slipped away. The woman was still yelling that her party had been ruined and she was going to ruin the bakery—so Calder had made sure the rain slanted extra sideways and got everyone wet. It wasn’t just petty revenge. If the party was rained out and everyone focused on the water, there’d be less concern about Calder’s mate and the cake.

But where had his mate gone?

Calder couldn’t go after his mate until the next day. It was too chaotic in the immediate aftermath, and none of the staff Calder had spoken to had wanted to talk about the disastrous event. Calder had finally found a person who was willing to be wordy in exchange for some cash. Calder didn’t altogether approve, but his priority was finding his mate.

So now Calder was letting himself into the small upscale bakery called Divine Confections. It smelled like sugar, butter, and happiness, though that latter may have been due to who Calder knew was in the building. But no, not only that. The people scattered at the round tables sipping warm drinks and eating the various confections seemed actually happy. The glass display cases were filled with a variety of beautiful-looking treats, and the blue-haired witch behind the counter seemed genuinely pleased with life despite the line in front of him, chatting with a customer even as he rang up their order.

Calder was in no hurry, so he looked around himself as he joined the back of the queue. They’d played with the idea of angelic: the walls were a warm pale yellow, and the art was in ornate golden frames and featured birds, wings, feathers, or the sky. There were fluffy white clouds painted on the ceiling, the light fixtures on the wall were golden wings, and it looked like all the dishes were blue, white, or gold. There were even cloth napkins and a bin to drop them off in so that they could be washed and reused, and everyone was drinking out of china or reusable mugs.

More than half of the people present were either witches or shifters, a concentration much higher than the average population. (Calder was old enough and magical enough to feel the type of magic rather than simply the general awareness that most magical folks had, so he knew which were witches and which were shifters.) This was clearly known to be a magic-friendly establishment.

“Hello, can I help you?”