Roy’s brows were lowered over deep-set eyes. I could tell by the way the muscle in his jaw ticked that he was clenching his teeth tightly together. It was moments like this, that told me Roy’s sasquatch form was pressing up hard on the inside of his human appearance. Luckily for all of us, he was good at restraint.

  As we went through the motions of settling up, I leaned forward slightly to murmur, “We need to convene an emergency meeting of the Council to discuss the recent faerie activity in town. They’re responsible for the curdled milk.” I kept my voice too low for the other patrons to be able to eavesdrop, knowing Roy’s superior hearing would allow him to hear me.

  He gave a short, sharp nod. “Yeah, I’m more than sick of this. I’ll text you the time and location for the meeting.”

  Roy’s eyes traced my path back across the bar, and a little wrinkle appeared between his dark brows when he saw Finn and Andre seated at the booth. After a moment, it smoothed back out again. “That’s the Magician, right? The one who did the show here a couple months back?”

  “Oh,” I answered as I turned to face Andre and hoped I came off as cool, calm, and collected. “Yeah.”

  Roy nodded. “I knew I recognized him from somewhere.”

  “Yeah.” I tucked my wallet back away. “That’s Andre. He’s helping me out with something.”

  For a second, it looked like Roy wanted to say something more, but then he just nodded and turned to the blustering mundane who stalked up to the bar, red-faced, with a glass of milk turned a waxy green color.

  I made my escape before the smell hit me.

  Collecting Finn and Andre and our coats from the booth, the three of us stepped out of the furor growing inside the Half-Moon. I felt sorry for Roy the whole time but not sorry enough to stay and risk catching another whiff of spoilt milk.

  After walking out into the chill November air, the three of us stood on the dark street for a moment, and I sucked in a breath of crisp, cool air that was tinged with the earthy scent of Autumn. I couldn’t remember anything ever smelling better.

  Well, except, of course, for the man standing next to me.

  Andre shoved his hands into his pockets. “I should be getting back.”

  Finn’s head whipped around, and I could tell he was trying hard not to pout. “Where are you staying?”

  “In Portland,” Andre said. “I’m doing a magic show there.”

  Finn accepted that news with reluctant grace. “But you’ll come back soon, right?”

  Andre flashed him a grin, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “Of course.” Then he paused for another moment before facing Finn again. “Give me a moment with your mum?”

  Finn turned towards the Jeep, hesitated, and then threw his arms around Andre, hugging him tightly before walking away, his head down.

  Andre watched him go, conflicted. “He’s a good lad. He’s going to be a great Magician.”

  My heart felt swollen in my chest, full of too much to voice as I watched my son let himself into the Jeep. I might have been better at hiding it than a thirteen-year-old, but I was just as reluctant to see Andre go. “Are you sure you don’t want a lift back to my place? Ouire is still there.”

  Andre shook his head, the breeze ruffling up his dark hair. “I’d actually like to leave Ouire with Finn for now, if that’s okay?”

  I nodded but let my confusion play out on my face.

  “I need to go back to Portland soon,” Andre continued. “Tonight.”

  “Do you have a show tomorrow?”

  He shook his head. “I need to get back—not just for the show, but because I need a chance to really think about what I’m meant to do.”

  “What you’re meant to do?”

  He nodded. “I feel as if I’ve reached a crossroads and I need to figure out my next steps.”

  “It sounds like you’re going to consult a crystal ball,” I said with a strained, little laugh.

  Andre’s chuckle was deep. “Something like that.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging my coat to me. But the cold that brushed my spine had nothing to do with the November wind. “What do you mean?”

  Andre looked at me, and there were so many emotions in his eyes—emotions I couldn’t read. Everything went quiet for an instant. The night felt hushed, weighted around us.

  He turned his head away, gazing down the street to where my white Jeep was parked. “I need to think on whether I’m meant to become a mentor to Finn, his teacher. I’ve never taken on a student before, but it’s not unheard of for a Magician to require instruction. It’s a big question, though, and one I’ll need to find my own answers for. It deserves careful consideration.”

  What could I say to that? So, I just nodded. “I understand.”

  Andre turned back to me then and took a step forward. “I will come back, Poppy. That much I can promise.”

  He didn’t owe me anything, I reminded myself. Whatever strange affinity we shared, no matter how much I wanted to reach out, to touch him and keep him close—he owed me nothing. No matter how much it felt like I’d known him all my life, Andre was barely better than a stranger. I’d met him twice, really. And one brief phone call.

  But still, the assurance that he’d come back, even if it was just to pick up his weird magical book dog—that promise made something ease inside me.

  So, I smiled, even as my eyes felt a little full. “I’ll see you later, then.”

  Chapter Eight

  Once home, I called Astrid and asked if she’d be willing to come over and hang out with Finn while I went out.

  Truthfully, at thirteen, Finn didn’t really need a babysitter, but after the whole Roscoe fiasco, and any of the myriad other happenings in Haven Hollow, I was pretty leery about leaving my son alone, especially after dark.

  Astrid hummed, as if she were considering the request. “If I do, will you teach me how to make that smutty potion I saw in your shop?”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes.” I turned to face the wall, which was silly because there was no one else in the room who could see the pink in my cheeks. “For the last time, it’s not smutty!”

  “Hmm, everything having to do with Pan is smutty, Poppy. Just saying.”

  “No, Astrid,” I said, making sure I elongated both syllables of her name. “Pan’s Delight simply just puts someone into a more festive mood, like having a couple of drinks, with no drunkenness and no hangover. I thought it would sell well with the holidays coming up.”

  Astrid laughed, and there was a decidedly cackle-like quality to it. I didn’t doubt for an instant that she was laughing at how flustered she’d made me. She really was related to Wanda—the two of them seemed to get a sick pleasure out of making me squirm—something which, apparently, wasn’t difficult to do.

  “Well,” she said, still a little breathless. “That just kind of makes me want to learn how to make it more. But don’t worry, I’ll head on over—I’d love to hang with Finn.”

  I let out a breath and willed the blush to fade from my face. I didn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about! “Thank you, Astrid. I’ll see you soon.”

  Yes, I’d couched my request to Astrid more in terms of her hanging out with Finn, potentially to give him another opportunity to learn about magic and the supernatural world, but I did have an ulterior motive. If the two of them were both occupied at my house, then that meant it was way less likely they’d try to spy on the Council meeting. And spying on a Council meeting seemed like the sort of thing Astrid would think was a great idea, and something Finn would go along with.

  Of course, once Astrid was over and the two of them were settled on the couch, that didn’t mean I was going to tell them where I was actually going, just in case. Unless Finn forced me to admit as much with his uncanny ability to tell whenever I was trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

  “I’ll be back in a couple hours,” I said, double checking I had everything I needed in my purse.

  “Where are you going?” Finn asked, eyeing me narrowly as he stood up and followed me into the kitchen, where I’d left my cell phone.

  I swallowed hard. “I’m just meeting up with some folks to discuss some things.” It wasn’t a complete lie—I was meeting up with folks (as in: the Council) and we were going to discuss some things (as in: the fae).

  “Is Andre, that hot British guy, going to be there?” Astrid asked as she appeared right behind Finn. Ugh, the two of them were beyond nosy.

  “Ew, you think he’s hot?” Finn demanded.

  Astrid laughed. “Totally. I mean—for an older guy, I guess.”

  I shook my head at both of them and ran for my cell phone. I couldn’t get out of that house fast enough.

  Finn’s forehead creased, and he looked conflicted as he faced me again. He took a seat on a stool at the kitchen counter and started picking at the leftovers of his mac and cheese I hadn’t bothered throwing away. “Are you and Andre going out on a date?”

  “A date?” I repeated, sounding as baffled as I felt.

  “Ohhh,” Astrid started as she walked up to the counter and took the stool beside Finn, reaching over to grab his bowl and finish it off.

  “What about Marty?” Finn asked me.

  “No, Finn and Astrid, I’m not going on a date with Andre—as I told you, I’m meeting up with some friends… and I’m well aware of Marty, Finn,” I continued.

  “What kind of meeting?”

  “It just a… a business meeting,” I answered, figuring I’d basically just spilled the beans about the Council meeting, but it seemed neither of them noticed because they were still stuck on the idea that I could be silently meeting with Andre—someone who, as far as I knew, was in Portland. But I didn’t mention that, mainly because I wanted to leave pronto.

  I turned away to grab my jacket, but froze at Finn’s next words.

  “I noticed, you know.”

  I breathed in really deeply and hoped he didn’t mean that he’d noticed how I was an absolute mess around Andre. I was more than sure my interest in the man was probably as obvious as the freckles across the bridge of my nose.

  “You… you noticed what?”

  Finn shrugged. “How Andre stared at you the whole time we were at the Half-Moon.”

  “Ohhhhh,” Astrid beamed, a huge smile breaking across her face. “Poppy has an admirer!”

  I swallowed hard and couldn’t help the relief that welled up within me—relief that Finn hadn’t noticed I was the one doing all the staring. But that relief was tempered with something else—surprise, yes, but elation, as well. And elation over the fact that Finn thought he’d noticed Andre looking at me was a feeling I had no business feeling.

  “Andre wasn’t staring at me,” I answered.

  “Poppy, you need to embrace the fact that you’re a hot, single mom,” Astrid said, nodding matter-of-factly. “And single men in this town are going to be attracted to you.”

  I looked at her. “Well, thank you for the pep talk, Astrid, but it doesn’t change the fact that Andre is just my friend, he wasn’t staring at me and he has no interest in me.” I took in a deep breath. “And none of that would matter anyway because I have a boyfriend.”

  Astrid turned up her nose at that.

  “What’s that face for?” I asked.

  Then she seemed to remember herself and shook her head. “I have nothing against Marty—he’s nice and all—but he’s just not… sexy enough for you.”

  “Oh, God,” I started, shaking my head as I looked up at the ceiling and wished I were already in the Jeep and as far away from this conversation as it was possible to be.

  “I think,” Finn paused, chewing on his lip before he barrelled ahead. “I think Andre might have a thing for you, Mom.”

  A bright, fluttery golden feeling erupted in my stomach at the words, but I ground it out just as quickly. I wasn’t sure what my face was doing, so I kept my back turned as I slipped my jacket on over my shoulders and tugged my hair free of the collar.

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with that,” I answered, reaching into my purse for my keys and palming them. “I think Andre cares about you a lot, Finn, and he simply wants to keep track of how your doing with your magic.” I finally turned, slipping the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “And, even if he did like me… like that, it wouldn’t matter, because as I said before: I have a boyfriend.” Then I looked at Astrid. “And it’s fine if you don’t think he’s sexy because I do.”

  “Oh, I do think Andre’s sexy,” Astrid responded as Finn pretended to throw up.

  “I wasn’t talking about Andre,” I answered her as she frowned at me. “I was talking about Marty and that… I think Marty’s sexy.”

  There was a pause then before Finn sighed and shook his head. “You’re lying, Mom,” he said.

  It was my turn to shake my head—I didn’t have time to argue this with the two of them. I had a meeting I had to get to and a situation I needed to help solve—at that moment, the fairie pranksters who were tearing through Haven Hollow were the most important issue—not whether Andre liked me, and definitely not whether I thought Marty was sexy.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” I told them.

  Astrid and Finn called out their goodbyes, and I locked up behind me before clattering down the front steps towards my Jeep.

  I double checked the text Roy had sent me about twenty minutes previously, just to make sure of where I was headed before I pulled out of the driveway.

  The meeting place for the Haven Hollow Council rotated every once in a while. Normally it would be held at the Half-Moon since there was plenty of seating, not to mention food and drink. But since the grill had been affected by faerie magic, we couldn’t be sure if it was being watched or not.

  So, everyone had decided to gather at the Hallowed Homes realty office. It seemed like the best choice; it had a conference room, was owned by Fifi, our succubus council member, and it was one of the very few places in town where no one had been bespelled yet. Plus, Bea would be there, and if any fae decided to try something hinky magic wise, she’d probably be able to notice it was happening, if not stop it.

  It was late enough, that I was grateful for the coffee and non-dairy creamer Fifi had set out for us when the meeting was called to order. Everyone took a seat around the shiny black table, and I clutched my little Styrofoam cup like a lifeline as I sank into the buttery leather upholstery.

  Fifi, short for ‘Serafina’, sat at the head of the table, looking immaculate even at the late hour. Her silver-blonde hair was done up into a twist at the back of her head, and she wore a red silk blouse and dark slacks like a runway model. She waited until everyone was settled, and then plunked a plastic gallon jug of milk onto the table.

  Her brother, Angelo, who was just as gorgeous but nowhere near as much fun to hang out with, frowned. He’d only just gotten back into town, probably jetting around with his latest conquest, so it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know what the meeting was about. Sometimes I thought Angelo was only on the Council because he didn’t want Fifi to be the only demon member, because he really didn’t take much of an interest in anything that wasn’t wearing a skirt.

  Angelo crossed his arms over his chest and slouched back into his chair. “What’s with the milk?”

  Fifi reached forward, each of her nails impeccably manicured and colored the same red as her blouse. She twisted the cap off the milk and nudged it in her brother’s direction. “Give it a sniff.”

  Angelo gave her a look, obviously confused as to why she was asking, but knowing what was coming, I had to suppress a wince, all the while remembering the feel of chunky milk in my mouth. Bleh.

  Angelo dragged the milk towards himself and lifted it just enough to get the first whiff. As soon as he got it, his face screwed up, and he shoved the milk jug away from himself. “Ugh, it’s sour.”

  At that, Lorcan started to chuckle until Wanda silenced him with an elbow to the ribs.

  Fifi nodded. “That’s the point. Every gallon of milk in town is sour. In fact, as far as we can tell, anything milk-based has gone bad.”

  “It’s a very good time to be a vampire, it seems,” Lorcan continued as Roy frowned at him.

  “It’s had a hell of an effect on my sales,” Stanley said with a perturbed nod. As the owner of Stomper’s Creamery, I could imagine he’d gotten hit the worst.

  “I know,” Fifi said as she faced Stanley and rubbed her temple, like a headache was starting to form there. “And all of us are really sorry to hear it, Stanley.” Then she faced the rest of us. “Every gallon in the grocery store, every tub of ice cream, whipping cream, yogurt. If it’s dairy, it’s gone off.”

  The smell from the jug started to permeate the room, so Fifi pulled it close enough that she could screw the cap back on. Only then did Roy’s nose relax out of its wrinkle. Enhanced senses could be awkward in some situations.

  Fifi shot him an apologetic look before folding her hands on the table surface. “One or two gallons of milk going bad this quickly wouldn’t be any reason for alarm. But for everything to go this bad, all at once? That’s pretty concerning. From what I understand, the average faerie could turn maybe a handful of gallons, tops, but nothing on this scale.”

  “Someone like Taliyah,” she said, gesturing to our newest council member, the white-haired Chief of Police. “Who’s high Sidhe and fae royalty could probably wreck the dairy in a whole store if she got angry enough. But an entire town? No. That’s both deliberate and coordinated.”

  Taliyah shifted in her chair. She wasn’t wearing the glamor that kept her looking human, so it was hard to tell from her flawless and slightly remote face, but I thought she was a little uncomfortable.

  I couldn’t blame her—she was still so new to the strange happenings of Haven Hollow.

  I cleared my throat. “Deliberate and coordinated. What does that mean, exactly?”