I couldn’t blame her for that. Angelo was tall, blond, and handsome enough that if he ever made his way to Hollywood, directors would be falling over themselves to offer him whatever contracts he wanted. Plus, he was charming, if in a slightly obnoxious way. And as an incubus, he was literally built for sex. Normally, Angelo would have eaten up the attention, again, quite literally. Angelo was the consummate ladies’ man, constantly moving from partner to partner like a bumble bee drifts between flowers, never lingering long in one place.

  That was the incubus way. They ate energy from sex, and sticking with one partner for too long could kill them. Fifi, his sister, was considered something of an aberration, with her desire for a monogamous relationship and a house with a white picket fence. Angelo had been the one trying to get his sister to see the light and embrace what she was, but lately I’d seen a change in him.

  I might have been wrong, but something told me that Angelo was rather smitten with someone. Which meant that the young lady at the bar, with her heavy-handed attempts at flirting, had been politely turned down.

  Again, Angelo was gorgeous, and quite the Casanova when he put even a smidge of effort into it. I couldn’t blame her for taking her shot. What I could blame her for was the fact that she hadn’t taken the ‘no’ with grace and backed off.

  That was bad enough, but it seemed the woman in question hadn’t been at the bar alone. And the man she’d been sharing a drink or seven with hadn’t taken too kindly to her turning all of her attention to Angelo, so he’d started to get upset and was doing his best to pick a fight.

  Angelo, having been completely fed up with it all, had finally gone to hide in the men’s room until the woman gave up and went on her way. But, full of machismo and a few too many whiskey and cokes, her date had followed Angelo into the bathroom to finally get the fight he was angling for.

  And instead of confronting a pretty boy party guy who wouldn’t know how to make a fist if his life depended on it, he’d gotten an utterly done-with-the-evening demon with a bad mood.

  One quick flash of what was usually hidden from the public: the candy-apple red skin, the gold sugar eyes, the wings, the horns, had been enough to send the guy screaming. A great way to keep a fight from happening, but not a good decision for dealing with humans who weren’t supposed to know that demons were real, and also occasionally went to the local bar for pina coladas.

  It had turned into a bit of a thing. Luckily, the guy was soused enough that no one was willing to listen to him with any kind of seriousness. But it was still a big issue, the kind that the Council was supposed to deal with.

  How lucky it was that a member of the Council just so happened to be in the Half-Moon that night, trying to have a very much long overdue date with a handsome Englishman.

  I just could not catch a break, it seemed.

  Angelo had been apologetic, or at least as apologetic as the ‘new and improved’ version of him was capable of being. But the damage was done. Secrecy broken, date ruined, and one drunk man to lull back into gentle obliviousness.

  I’d put in the call to Wanda while Andre got the guy outside, and after some convincing, and some outright begging, she’d agreed to come down to weave a memory charm on the guy and try to mitigate some of the damage done.

  But she wasn’t anywhere close to happy about it. And, in true Wanda fashion, she was letting us know as much with every impatient moment she spent waiting for us to shuffle our way down the sidewalk.

  Still, under every huff and eye roll, I could see her piecing together exactly what charm to use and how to use it. Wanda might have made a big show out of what an imposition this was, but she was still going to do it, and she was going to do it properly.

  If I hadn’t been dragging a fully grown man and sweating into my pretty sundress, I might have even smiled.

  After another painfully long five or so minutes, we finally reached the door to my shop. Andre took our new friend’s full weight while I got my keys out and fumbled the door open so we could all spill inside.

  Even under the rotten circumstances, setting foot inside Poppy’s Potions always gave me a little thrill. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of having—a thriving business in a small town with tons of friends.

  The room lit up in a wash of color as I flicked the lights on, and even tired, dishevelled, and a little disappointed, the sight of it made me smile.

  Heavy dark wooden shelves lined the walls of the store, with a few glass fronted cabinets arranged among them. With the old brass cash register complete with lever, it gave the place the feel of an old timey apothecary’s shop. And carefully arranged on those shelves were my potions. Each one in its own little colored glass bottle, they lit up the room like a shattered rainbow. The little fairy lights I’d strung along the shelves helped the illusion, backlighting the potions and making little sparkles of color dance across the floors.

  It was Andre’s small grunt when he readjusted his grip on the mostly slack man that jerked me out of my happy daydream, not Wanda’s impatient little huff. I hurried back over to grab the guy’s other arm, though I wasn’t sure how much help I actually was.

  “Into the back room,” I gasped. “There’s a cot we can set him on.”

  I’d set it up back there after one too many customers had needed to use the line of healing products that Wanda and I had put together. Magical mishap, or just a random stumble, even in the Hollow a lot of supernatural people were still leery of going to the hospital. They much preferred to buy a salve, or a bandage enchanted to promote quick healing. But it meant that my tiny back room had become multi purpose. As well as the cot and the rest of my inventory, there was also a small desk tucked into the corner where Finn could do his homework after school while he waited for me to close up for the evening.

  Between Andre and me, we managed to get the man arranged on the cot. He was still staring around the room, sweat beading on his forehead as he searched for monsters. The way his eyes were bugging out, he seemed terrified that Angelo was going to jump out of the shadows to steal his soul.

  The second we had him arranged, Wanda strode forward. “Unbelievable. Angelo knows better than to—ugh!” She couldn’t even finish the sentiment and, instead, waved at the man as if that explained what she was about to say.

  “I really appreciate you coming out to do this, Wanda,” I cut in before the blush burning in my cheeks went nuclear. Wanda didn’t have much of a filter at the best of times, and when she was annoyed, that filter was non-existent. “I’m sorry to drag you away from your… plans.”

  From the dishevelled way her thick black hair was tousled around her face, and the fact that she hadn’t bothered to do up the two top buttons on her mulberry silk blouse, I had a strong suspicion that her plans had involved a certain handsome vampire.

  Lorcan Rowe, Haven Hollow’s resident dentist and undead American, was Wanda’s squeeze. He was also the vampire who accidentally blooded her when trying to save her life after a terrible car crash, thereby turning her into a Blood Witch which resulted in her being kicked out of her coven and moving to Haven Hollow. But it all worked out in the end. Sure, Wanda’s powers were a little bit spookier now, and a little more unpredictable, but she’d made a home in town. And she’d started her own coven. A way more inclusive one than a traditional witch’s coven.

  For one thing, she’d included me, and I wasn’t even a witch. Sure, I had magic, thanks to my Gypsy Traveller heritage that allowed me to brew my potions, but most witches would have been more likely to run me out of town, not bring me into the fold. Plus, Wanda had brought in her cousin, Maverick, and no other coven had ever accepted a man before, no matter how much magic he had. Most witches would have rather seen him dead, and that was before he’d run afoul of a vampire war criminal and been turned into a Blood Warlock.

  The point was, in spite of everything looking like it was falling apart, things were turning up really well for my Witch BFF, and I couldn’t have been happier for her. Even if she only grunted at me for my thanks, not mollified at all as she leaned over the man, scarlet energy weaving between her fingers as she worked her charm.

  Andre came to stand beside me, wisely out of the irritated witch’s way, and he brushed his fingers gently over my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  I tried to ignore the little waterfall of tingles that his touch sent down my spine and smiled. With any luck, the lights in the back room were dim enough that it wasn’t super obvious that I was blushing, like I was a teenager and not the mom of a teenager.

  “I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting things to go this way… tonight.”

  Andre smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “That seems to be the theme of Haven Hollow.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. For a small town not too far from Portland, Haven Hollow seemed to get an unfair share of trouble. Even for a Hollow, a lot of strange things happened here. Enough to keep the Council scrambling. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to sign up as a member and do my part to keep the town that had welcomed me and my family so well. It still seemed like a good idea, if I was being fair. This was my home, for better or for worse, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

  Maybe one or two fewer crises a week. But nothing else.

  “There,” Wanda said with a suspicious amount of satisfaction. The drunk man lolled back on the cot, looking more dazed than when she’d started.

  My suspicions were confirmed when Wanda continued, her lips twisting up into a smirk. “I gave him the memory of getting spooked by his own reflection in the men’s room mirror, screeching like a baby, and almost falling on his backside. Now, you just need to toddle him back to the bar, and Angelo’s screw up can go into the pile marked ‘Wanda saves the day… again’.”

  “Thank you, Wanda. I owe you one.”

  She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “You owe me a Hex on the Beach, and you’d better make it a double.”

  Even with everything going on, I perked up. It had been a while since the Black Cat Cocktail Club had managed to get together. It would be nice to see everyone outside of the usual supernatural smack downs that seemed to be coming a lot more frequently lately.

  “You got it. Cocktails at my place. I’ll set it up with everyone, when we get a free night.”

  Wanda nodded, like she expected nothing less, and sailed out the door. I heard the brass bell over the front door clatter a moment later. Wanda had left the building.

  “Well, then.” Andre clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms briskly. “I suppose it’s just a matter of getting this gentleman back where he needs to be.”

  At least our unwitting guest was now in the happy, staggery phase of being drunk, instead of the freaking out belligerent phase. It didn’t make hauling his arm over my shoulder again any better, but all the stumbling around was just because he didn’t seem to know where his feet were, not because he was paranoid and looking for demons. The twinge in my back didn’t care at all about the difference, though. I was going to be sore for a couple days.

  For the most part, I was really happy with where my life was. But a teeny, tiny part of me remembered the days in my twenties when I could stay up all night and do something stupid and strenuous and not even feel it in the morning.

  Between the two of us, with only a couple of near spills, Andre and I got our new friend back down the street to the Half-Moon and none the worse for wear. It had been a little ticklish locking up the store with him balanced between us, and by the time we set him back down in a booth in the back corner, he was snoring into Andre’s shoulder.

  I arranged the man’s head carefully against the padded bench of the booth and glanced around. No one seemed to be paying us any attention, much more focused on the band in the corner. And there was no sign of his date—the one who had been making eyes at Angelo. That was probably just as well, because we wouldn’t have to explain where we’d just taken the man.

  “I guess he’s Roy’s problem, now,” I said, with only a little twinge of guilt.

  Roy, Haven Hollow’s resident sasquatch, was also the owner of the Half-Moon. Not that many people knew it, since the big man was usually either tending the bar or hauling stock around—looking much more like an employee than anything else. Roy was very hands-on when it came to his business. He was also on the Council, and really, I probably should have tried to flag him down earlier, and not just because he could have carried our spooked drunk one handed like I would have carried a teacup.

  I’d just hated to bother him when things were so busy. The band had the bar absolutely packed with guests, which was great for business, but it meant a lot of things needing to be refilled and replenished. I couldn’t even count the number of tubs of ice I’d seen disappearing behind the bar.

  With the latest crisis averted, Andre and I could have sat down and continued our date. But with all the hectic rushing around, calling Wanda, and feeling like a bit of a mess with what I suspected was a stranger’s sweat on me and the distinct smell of whiskey in my hair, the mood felt pretty ruined.

  Andre must have agreed, because he took my hand and led me back out into the crisp evening air.

  We only made it a few feet towards my car when I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Sorry?” he repeated, shaking his head.

  I nodded. “Things just keep getting messed up… and when we finally had some time together… this goes and happens. I just… I’m sorry.”

  But instead of being upset, Andre just laughed and tugged me into the side of his body, slipping his arm around my shoulders. The kiss he pressed to my temple went a long way to improving my mood.

  “I’ve been in Haven Hollow for a while now, darling. And believe me when I say that I knew what I was signing up for here. Every moment of madness is well worth it, so long as I get to spend them with you.”

  That had my heart fluttering in my chest like it had just grown wings, but the guilt was really hard to shake.

  “Still. I’m sorry. I really wanted this to be a nice night.”

  Between my shop and Finn’s schedule, not to mention Andre often having to leave town for work, it was hard enough to schedule dates. Andre had only just gotten back into town after doing a bunch of shows, and I’d been really looking forward to spending some time with him.

  He hummed, keeping his arm around my shoulders. The warmth soaked into my skin, and I had to fight not to cuddle into him like a cat in front of a fireplace.

  “Well, I still think any night I get to see you is a nice one, but I take your meaning.” He gave my shoulders a squeeze. “How about this then—why don’t we have a do-over? A re-date, if you will.”

  A slow grin stretched across my face. “A re-do?”

  Andre grinned, flashing strong white teeth. Lorcan would have been proud. “What about Friday evening? You can come to my house, and I will cook you dinner. We’ll be far less likely to be disturbed than if we were out in public, I think.” He paused as he further thought about it. “I hope.”

  He was right, though I didn’t doubt that if there was trouble around, it would manage to track me down. Some days I thought if I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all. Though, what had my heart rate tripping was the idea of being alone with Andre, and him making dinner for me.

  That was a big step, wasn’t it? I’d made dinner for us before, of course, and Andre had joined Finn and me for many meals. But going to his home specifically for dinner felt more… deliberate. More important. Warmth kindled in my belly to go with the fluttery feeling.

  I smiled up at him, watching how the streetlamps reflected in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Mr. Osmont, I would be absolutely delighted.”

  Chapter Two

  In spite of the semi ruined date the night before, I woke up feeling positively chipper.

  Not that I was normally a gloomy Gus or anything like that, but there was a lightness in my heart that had me humming softly to myself as I bustled around the kitchen, pulling together breakfast for Finn.

  Normally the first meal of the day was cereal, or toast with peanut butter. But this morning, I was in the mood to make it a little more special. By the time Finn dragged his sleepy, bed-headed self into the kitchen, the waffle iron was working away, and I was slicing up the last of the strawberries.

  His eyes wide, Finn sat down at the old wooden kitchen table, and I slid a plate of hot, fluffy waffles in front of him. The rest of the fruit was already on the table with the syrup and butter, and I grabbed my own plate before joining him.

  By the time I sat down, Finn already had a mouthful of waffles drenched in syrup (which was now dribbling down his chin), the rest of the waffles vanishing in a way that only a hungry teenager could manage.

  “How was it?” I laughed.

  “Mmm,” he said around his next mouthful. “You should definitely go on more dates with Andre.”

  I laughed, trying to ignore the heat in my face. “We’ll see.”

  Things were quiet for a few minutes, with Finn concentrating on getting as much sugar and carbs into his stomach as possible, while I tried to sneak more fruit onto his plate. He inhaled that too, and realizing he was still hungry, I got up to make him another waffle.

  He looked a little rough this morning, the poor guy. His hair was sticking up in blond spikes, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His cheeks were pale, the freckles standing out like drops of sepia ink, and the bags under his eyes were an alarming dark purple. Hmm, maybe bacon and eggs would have been a better choice for breakfast, for more protein.

  I poured myself another cup of coffee, and sat down, watching him demolish his second plate. When he was scraping the last of the syrup up with his fork and finally looking somewhere close to sated, I asked, “rough night?”

  He pushed his plate away with a groan and stretched his shoulders until something popped in his back. “I was just up late, studying.”