Chapter 29

TWENTY-NINE

M orning sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of Weaver’s Botanicals. The shop buzzed with magical energy – dried herbs rustling in their copper racks, crystals humming with stored power, and experimental potions bubbling in delicate glass beakers. But today, an undercurrent of anticipation charged the air.

Clover adjusted the flame beneath a copper pot, watching blue-green vapor curl upward in hypnotic spirals. “The tracking charm needs to be subtle. If Hudson suspects anything...”

“He won’t.” Banner leaned against the workbench, arms crossed. “Our boy Hudson never met a scheme he didn’t think he could outsmart.”

“So…about this scheme.” Weston examined a rack of bottled essences. “How exactly do we make sure he targets this formula instead of the real ones?”

Clover sprinkled crushed moonflower petals into the mixture, smiling as they dissolved in a shower of silver sparks. “By making it irresistible. Something that looks revolutionary but has just enough flaws that only an expert would spot them.”

“Like leaving the vault door slightly open,” Rook mused from his spot near the window. His presence filled the space, tiger energy a warm weight against her skin. “Too tempting to resist.”

“Exactly.” She stirred the potion three times widdershins. “The base looks perfect, but the molecular structure will degrade within hours of mass production. Hudson’s scientists will spot that too late to fix it.”

“And the tracking spell?” Banner asked.

“Watch.” Clover closed her eyes, channeling her magic into the liquid. Green-gold energy spiraled down her arms, sinking into the mixture. The potion shimmered, then settled into an innocuous pearl color. “Now anyone who handles it will leave a magical signature I can trace. Like magical fingerprints.”

“Clever witch.” Rook’s voice carried that note of pride that never failed to make her pulse skip. He’d moved closer while she worked, drawn to her magic like a moth to flame. “How long will the trace last?”

“At least a week. More than enough time to catch him in the act.”

“Speaking of in the act...” a familiar voice drifted down from the rafters, “this little trap of yours could use some quality control testing.”

Clover groaned. “Not now, Poe.”

“I’m wounded.” The crow fluttered to a lower perch. “Here I am, offering my services as an impartial observer?—”

“There’s nothing impartial about you.”

“—and you reject my generous offer without consideration.” He preened his feathers. “I simply thought someone should verify the formula’s effects before Hudson steals it. For science.”

“The last time you ‘helped’ with quality control, three customers spent an hour Irish step dancing through the shop.”

“Which proved the energizing properties worked beautifully.”

“They couldn’t stop dancing.”

“Exercise is important.”

“Mrs. Fontain kicked over two display cases.”

“She had excellent form though.”

Rook’s quiet laughter rumbled through the room. “He has a point about testing it. We need to know exactly how Hudson’s people will react when they analyze it.”

Clover sighed. “Fine. But we’re using proper safety protocols this time.” She measured a single drop into a clean beaker, diluting it with spring water. “Small dose first.”

“Spoilsport,” Poe muttered.

They gathered around as she waved her hand over the beaker, activating the magic. The liquid glowed softly, releasing a subtle fragrance like summer rain and mountain air.

“Seems normal enough,” Banner observed.

“Wait for it,” Clover murmured.

The magic rippled outward in invisible waves. For a moment, nothing happened. Then...

“Banner!” Weston’s eyes lit up with sudden wonder. “Your feet are so magnificently enormous! Like a sasquatch blessed by the gods themselves. Do you have trouble finding shoes? That’s so impressive!”

Banner beamed. “Thank you! And may I say, the way you organize your protein shake collection is simply revolutionary. Alphabetical by flavor AND color coding? Pure genius!”

“Oh no.” Clover bit her lip.

“The special way you grunt during workouts brings tears to my eyes,” Weston continued earnestly. “Such raw emotion! Such primal energy! Like a dramatic reading of a gym manual!”

Rook pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking. “Definitely found our formula flaw.”

“Your ability to tell the same three gym stories at every meeting is unparalleled,” Banner declared. “Especially the one about getting stuck in the weight machine. Your dedication to consistent storytelling moves me deeply.”

“The compliment compulsion wasn’t supposed to work quite like this,” Clover whispered, watching in fascinated horror as the two enforcers traded increasingly absurd praise.

“It’s perfect,” Rook said, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Professional enough to pass initial testing, but impossible to hide once it hits production. Imagine Hudson’s high-end spa clients...”

“Poe!” Banner’s voice rang with joy. “The way you’ve organized your collection of shiny bottlecaps is simply visionary! The artistic placement! The bold statement about consumerism!”

The crow preened. “Finally, someone recognizes my avant-garde artistic installations.”

“And the way you practice your dramatic entrances in the mirror!” Weston added. “Such commitment to personal branding! Such flair!”

“We should probably end this before they start rating each other’s workout playlists,” Clover muttered. She waved her hand, dispelling the magic.

Banner and Weston blinked, then stared at each other in horror.

“We never speak of this,” Banner growled.

“Speak of what?” Weston asked, though his ears burned red. “I was momentarily possessed by the spirit of... excessive positivity.”

“Right.” Clover cleared her throat. “So the formula works. Maybe too well. Now we just need to make it accessible enough for Hudson to steal.”

“You look like you have a plan.”

“I do. I want you and the others to put word out of me having the formula at Weaver’s Botanicals and say it’s ready to be handed to you.”

Rook eyed her with a lifted brow. “Are you using yourself as bait?”

“Not really. I mean, a little. But before you say no, listen to what I’m going to say,” she rushed, “you can all be there. Obviously, not right there or they’ll know from your scent, but far enough to catch them with the formula once he steals it.”

“I’m not sure I like this plan.”

She leaned into him, whispering into his ear. “Come on, you big pussycat. I’ll be fine. Besides, we need to deal with Hudson before he does something crazy like burn down the warehouse.”

He sighed. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but I agree.”

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