Chapter 5
FIVE
S abine traced her fingers over the birthmark above her navel, still tingling from last night’s dream. For the first time, her mystery man’s face hadn’t dissolved into shadows—she’d seen sharp cheekbones, a stern mouth that somehow managed to look sensual, and those haunting golden eyes. Eyes that belonged to a certain dragon who’d walked into her shop yesterday.
“Oh, come on,” she muttered, yanking her purple sweater down. “One glimpse of an admittedly gorgeous man and my subconscious recasts my entire dream sequence?”
Her tigress stretched lazily beneath her skin. Mate , it purred.
“Not helping.” Sabine grabbed her keys, determined to focus on work rather than impossible attractions. “He’s probably the most emotionally unavailable man in existence. Did you see how he practically radiated ‘keep away’ vibes? Plus, he’s the founder of Mystic Hollow. As in, centuries old. As in, way out of my league.”
Her inner cat snorted. Perfect for us.
“Yeah, well, you also thought that squirrel was catchable last week. Your judgment’s questionable.”
The early morning air carried hints of frost as Sabine unlocked Katz ‘n Things. October painted the town in amber and gold, matching the colors that haunted both her dreams and her waking thoughts. She busied herself with opening tasks, trying to ignore how her tigress perked up at every male footstep that passed the shop.
“You’re ridiculous,” she told her inner cat. “He’s not going to just show up again. He probably has founder-ly things to do. Like... founding. Or whatever dragons do all day.”
“Talking to yourself again?” Ylan breezed in through the back door, carrying a basket that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. “Must have been some dream last night.”
Heat flooded Sabine’s cheeks. “What makes you think I had a dream?”
“Honey, you’ve got that dreamy-but-frustrated look you always get after your mystery man visits.” Ylan set out fresh muffins on the counter, her silver-streaked hair escaping its messy bun. “Except this time...” Her eyes twinkled. “I bet he had a very specific face.”
“I hate that you know me so well.”
“Spill it.”
Sabine groaned, dropping her head onto the counter. “Fine. Yes, okay? For the first time in years, my dream guy had a face. A very stern, aristocratic, unfairly attractive face that belongs to a certain dragon who probably sees me as nothing but a shopkeeper with weird magical quirks.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ylan’s grin widened. “And how does your tigress like him?”
“She’s convinced he’s our mate, which is ridiculous because A--he clearly wants nothing to do with romance, B--he looks at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve, and C--did I mention the whole ‘founder of Mystic Hollow’ thing? He probably dates supermodel witches who don’t accidentally set off magical fireworks when they sneeze.”
“That was one time, and those fireworks were gorgeous.”
“They spelled out ‘catnip’ in the sky!”
Their laughter cut off as one of the enchanted plush cats on display sparked violently. Its usual gentle purring morphed into an unholy screech that sent Mrs. Peterson, their earliest regular customer, scrambling backward into a shelf of crystal balls.
“Oh no, no, no.” Sabine lunged forward, channeling her magic through splayed fingers. The dampening spell wrapped around the malfunctioning toy like a blanket, but not before it shot golden sparks that spelled out ‘here kitty, kitty’ in the air.
“Well,” Mrs. Peterson said faintly, clutching her pearl necklace. “That’s... different.”
“I am so sorry.” Sabine helped the elderly witch to a chair while Ylan rushed to get tea. “These artifacts have been acting strange lately. Small malfunctions, nothing dangerous, but?—”
The bell above the door chimed. A man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit glided in, his smile practiced and pleasant. Too pleasant. Like a salesman about to pitch something expensive and unnecessary.
“Ladies.” He bowed slightly. “I couldn’t help but notice the disturbance. I’m Linus, from the Supernatural Commerce and Safety Board. We’ve been investigating similar incidents across town.”
Sabine’s tigress bristled. Something about his polished manner set off warning bells. “I wasn’t aware of another investigation. The founder himself is looking into recent disturbances.”
“Ah, yes.” Linus’s smile didn’t waver. “We’re a separate entity, ensuring all magical businesses maintain proper safety standards. May I?” He reached for the deactivated cat toy.
Before Sabine could respond, the temperature in the shop dropped several degrees. A familiar presence filled the doorway, radiating quiet power and barely contained irritation.
“Linus.” Ren’s voice could have frozen hell. “I wasn’t aware the Board had jurisdiction here.”
“Founder.” Linus’s greeting dripped honey-coated venom. “Simply offering assistance with quality control. We wouldn’t want any... accidents.”
The tension crackled like static electricity. Sabine’s tigress growled at Linus while simultaneously trying to preen for Ren. The conflicting impulses gave her emotional whiplash.
“Speaking of accidents,” Ylan piped up with forced cheer, “who wants stress-relieving muffins? Guaranteed to reduce tension or your money back.”
Linus’s laugh tinkled like broken crystal. “Another time, perhaps.” He pulled a business card from thin air—literally, it materialized between his fingers in a shower of silver sparks. “Do call if you notice any other... irregularities.”
The card felt cold against Sabine’s palm. Her tigress wanted to shred it.
“How kind,” she managed, filing the card under ‘suspicious things to investigate later.’ “Though I’m sure any issues can be handled by our founder.”
Speaking of whom... Ren hadn’t moved from his position by the door, his broad shoulders blocking most of the morning light. His golden eyes tracked Linus’s every movement like a predator watching prey.
“Indeed.” Linus’s smile remained perfect, plastic. “Though the founder must be quite busy. So many disturbances lately. The illusions by the lake, the ward fluctuations near the school...” He tsked softly. “One might think Mystic Hollow needs extra oversight.”
Ren’s low growl vibrated through the shop. Several crystal balls hummed in response.
“Oh my,” Mrs. Peterson whispered to Ylan. “The sexual tension is making my arthritis act up.”
Ylan choked on her muffin.
The bell chimed again as Clover and Romi walked in, carrying the usual morning coffee and pastries. Grins grew across their faces at the sight of Ren and Linus squared off like rival tomcats in Sabine’s territory.
“Well!” Clover’s eyes sparkled with unholy glee. “This is cozy.”
“Very cozy,” Romi agreed, setting cups down. “Though if I were marking this romance novel, I’d say the mysterious-but-obviously-evil suitor should exit stage left about now.”
Linus’s perfect mask slipped for a fraction of a second—long enough for Sabine to glimpse something cold and ancient in his eyes. Then his charming smile returned. “Ladies. Always a pleasure. I’ll be in touch about those safety regulations, Miss Katz.”
He swept out, leaving behind a lingering chill and the faint scent of ozone.