Page 17 of Fang Fatale

“It is.”

She flashes that irrepressible smile that's gotten her—us—into and out of more trouble than I care to enumerate.

“Luckily, today's errand is the opposite of exhausting. We're going to Hex & Honey. Aunt Clover wants us to pick up our order before the shop opens.”

I stare at her like she's sprouted a second head.

Which, to be fair, she has done once.

But only for the solstice.

“You want to go out while Tall, Dark, and Stalky is prowling around?”

“He hasn't crossed the property line. He won't, not unless he wants a second-degree hex burn.”

She shrugs.

“Besides... if he's watching us, maybe it's time to give him a show.”

Blackthorn in the morning is a patchwork of earnestness and rot, like an antique quilt that refuses to admit most of its stains are blood.

The closer we get to Main Street, the less I worry about Grimhaven and the more I worry about whether I brushed my hair—or if I'll have to face the old warlock at the market with dried toothpaste on my lip again.

Dandy walks like she owns the town, which she might, depending on how you define own. She waves at the butcher, nods at the pharmacist, and calls out, “Morning!” to anyone within shouting distance.

Hex & Honey hasn't technically opened yet, but the windows are fogged with warmth. Burnt caramel hangs in the air alongside cinnamon—or, because this is Blackthorn, possibly aromatic spell dust.

Our order waits on the counter, tied with a ribbon and a handwritten note.

To my favorite disaster—keep the change.

Clover herself is perched on a stool behind the counter, feet swinging, defying both gravity and age.

She cocks an eyebrow.

“You brought the runaway.”

“She brought herself,” Dandy says, hopping onto the neighboring stool. “I'm just the getaway driver.”

I kneel beside the pastry box, letting its warmth seep into my frozen fingers.

“Thanks for the scones, Clover.”

I lift the note.

“And your handwriting's looking better.”

She beams.

Only for a second.

“You've got an admirer.”

She jerks her chin toward the window.

“Across the street.”

“Looks hungry.”