Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
T he Ducati Monster purred beneath Thora as she navigated the winding mountain road, her body leaning into each curve with practiced precision. She’d abandoned the GPS fifteen minutes ago after it kept insisting she turn around, leaving her to follow the handwritten directions from Clemmins.
“When the road forks, take the path that doesn’t make sense.”
What kind of directions were those?
She slowed at the split in the road, engine rumbling impatiently. The left path continued smooth and well-maintained toward what looked like a normal mountain town in the distance. The right fork appeared to dead-end at an impenetrable wall of ancient trees and tangled undergrowth.
“Doesn’t make sense, huh?” Thora muttered, eyeing the seemingly impassable right fork.
With a resigned sigh, she steered toward it, bracing for impact with the foliage. Instead, the wall of greenery shimmered like a desert mirage, parting to reveal a cobblestone road that hadn’t existed seconds before. A tingling sensation washed over her skin as she passed through—magic recognizing something in her blood, permitting entry.
The narrow road wound through towering trees draped with luminous moss that pulsed with faint internal light. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in dappled patterns, creating an otherworldly glow. The very air smelled different here—crisp pine mingled with something sweet and earthy, underlying notes of magic giving it a distinctive fizz in her nostrils.
When the forest finally opened up, Thora slowed her motorcycle to a halt, momentarily stunned by the sight before her.
Enchanted Falls spread across a gentle valley, a patchwork of architectural whimsy that defied conventional design. Pastel cottages with thatched roofs stood alongside rustic log cabins and elegant Victorian homes, all somehow blending into a cohesive whole. In the center of town, a clock tower stretched skyward, its face changing colors with the passing minutes. Beyond the buildings, visible through gaps in the structures, a waterfall cascaded down a distant cliff, shrouded in iridescent mist.
“Looks like someone threw up a Disney movie,” Thora grumbled, though she couldn’t entirely suppress a flicker of curiosity. She’d visited plenty of paranormal communities in her bounty hunting career, but never one so... unabashedly magical.
She guided her bike down the main street, drawing curious glances from locals. Unlike the suspicious stares she typically received in paranormal enclaves, these looks held open interest, even welcome. Several people actually waved.
“Newcomer?” called a man sweeping outside a shop labeled Fang the clock tower would make an excellent vantage point; several narrow alleys offered potential ambush locations. Old habits impossible to break even in this seemingly benign setting.
She circled the perimeter, observing the locals while projecting casual interest. Her amber eyes, distinctive of her sabertooth heritage, cataloged faces and body language, searching for anyone matching her target’s description or exhibiting the furtive behavior typical of a fugitive.
Instead, she found only cheerful industriousness. A group of wolf shifters coordinated to raise a large wooden platform, their movements synchronized with pack precision. A witch—identifiable by the faint purple glow around her fingertips—enchanted paper lanterns to hover at perfect intervals along a string.
Near the fountain, a child with faintly luminous skin chased another whose fingers sparked with harmless magical fire, their laughter echoing across the square. No one seemed bothered by their exuberant display of power.
“First time in Enchanted Falls?”