“Whoa, down girl,” he said with a chuckle.

  I was so hungry, I didn’t even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed. Instead, I shoved the papers away in favor of ground beef and cheese with lettuce and tomato. “You’re the best husband ever. Seriously. Top notch.”

  That had him grinning wide, the expression more open and honest than his previous smirk had been. “And to think, all it took was lunch.”

  “It was really the coffee that sealed it, to be fair.” I took a sip, letting the heat of the liquid chase some of the fog out of my brain.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  The food and coffee were great, don’t get me wrong. But neither were as good as Maverick sitting there, across from me. He seemed to chase away some of the weariness hanging off my shoulders like an overcoat made out of lead. Maverick was the first friend I’d made when I came to Haven Hollow, and he was still one of the few people I trusted completely. And I genuinely enjoyed his company.

  The fact that he was smart, handsome, and that I was technically married to him did make things a little more complicated, but I was happy just to be his friend, especially because I knew he didn’t have many. In fact, I might have been his only friend. If I had trust issues, Maverick had mongo trust issues, so there was something definitely satisfying about knowing that he trusted me as much as I did him.

  He lifted a fry with his long fingers, biting down with strong white teeth. I watched his throat bob while he swallowed, and my own mouthful turned dust dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  Okay, so yes, it was true that I liked his company. But that wasn’t all that was true. What was also true was that I could have definitely done with a lot more of it. I didn’t want to make assumptions. Maverick had really done me a solid by marrying me, and I’d never wanted to pressure him or ask for more than he might be willing to give. We’d shared a few kisses, and not just the ones that had sealed our marriage ceremony, but we’d never moved beyond that, and sometimes Maverick would smirk, or gesture, or move a certain way and a rush of heat would just rip through me, so hot I thought it might actually kill me, and I had to take a step back before I embarrassed myself.

  My bedroom that I’d shared with my ex-husband might have been dead by the end, thanks to all the philandering, but that didn’t mean I was. No, I was still a woman with needs and those needs had been going unmet for a very long time. So, maybe I shouldn’t have blamed myself for wondering if maybe Maverick might feel for me the same way I did for him? Of course, it was a question that would always remain that—a question, because I would never act on it. Not in a million years.

  I dipped a fry in some ketchup, trying to haul my thoughts back in line and praying that the heat in my face wasn’t me blushing. “Are you off today? Or did you sneak out?”

  Maverick had taken over the daylight hours of Wanda’s clothing store, Wanda’s Witchery, and he was actually really good at selling things. He was certainly a bigger hit with the female customers than his cousin had ever been.

  He shrugged, unconcerned. “I’m entitled to a lunch break. If Wanda doesn’t like it, she’s free to toddle herself right into the daylight, and run the store herself.”

  Ever since the vampires of Portland had pitched a fit about Lorcan refusing to turn Wanda all the way, and they’d started trying to force the issue, Wanda had been pretending to have been changed into a fully blooded vampire. I was sure it was annoying, having to stick to strictly nocturnal hours and pretending to have lost all her magic, but it was less annoying than having to fend off angry witches and murderous vampires, so there was that. I just wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep the act up.

  That was a problem for another day though and, for now, it wasn’t my problem. And God knew I had enough of my own problems to focus on. As far as Wanda and the vampires of Portland went, well I figured her ploy would work until it didn’t, and then we’d deal with it. Somehow.

  The silence was comfortable while we ate, but it still felt a little odd to sit across from each other and not say a thing, so I swallowed my bite of burger and figured I’d start the conversation. “How’s Sybil doing?”

  Maverick rolled his eyes, but there was a smirk hovering around the corners of his mouth. “She’s an absolute hellion. Constantly asking questions and wanting me to watch absurd teen movies from the turn of the century. I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” he said, as though he hadn’t signed up for the whole package willingly, the big faker.

  “You poor man,” I responded, deadpan, and then tossed a fry at him. He caught it and ate it without breaking eye contact, and I had to put my coffee down or risk spilling it while I laughed.

  The whole thing felt nice. Domestic, almost. It felt… I had to pick up my coffee to hide whatever expression my face was making, because I didn’t like the thoughts going through my head. And especially the thought that this... well, it felt almost like a real marriage. The way marriage was supposed to be, not the sham my last one was, with Jonathon sucking the life out of everything, both literally and figuratively. And wasn’t that a trip, finding out I’d been married to an actual incubus without ever knowing the truth.

  It sure had explained a few things, though.

  I’d thought I’d been burnt out on the idea of having an actual partner. I’d thought Jonathon had destroyed the part of me that even wanted to try again. Our divorce had been a nightmare, and he’d done everything he could to drag it out, to twist the knives deeper. It had been miserable, but at least it had just been me in the thick of it, with my family supporting me. But I had my boys to worry about now, and I would never get them embroiled in anything nasty like the smoking wreckage my marriage had been.

  But being here with Maverick, it almost made me want to try again. It wasn’t just the fact that he was stupidly handsome, or that he was good in a fight. It was the little, quiet moments that were slowly making me consider what it might be like to try, like a snail poking its head out of its shell.

  Maybe this time. This time might be different...

  The phone on my desk shrilled, and I grabbed a napkin to wipe the last of my burger off my hands. Most people who phoned the Haven Hollow Police department went through the dispatch phone who could direct their calls to where they needed to go. Only a few people had the number to reach me directly, and almost all of them were on the council, which meant it wasn’t a call I could afford to ignore.

  I shot Maverick a lopsided smile as I reached for the phone. “Duty calls.”

  Chapter Five

  I parked my car along Main Street and headed for Poppy’s Potions.

  If, a couple years back, someone had told me that I’d be walking into a store that sold honest to goodness magic potions, I would have suggested they get a mental health assessment. But here I was, and what was even weirder was that the potions actually worked.

  When I’d first come to town, I’d eyed the more overtly magical stores with suspicion. Claiming that clothing could boost a person’s confidence? Okay, sure. But claiming that clothing could be enchanted to hide your flaws? Or make you want to exercise? Or that it could make you look a cup size bigger? I mean, come on. That was ridiculous, and bordering on fraud.

  I’d had to change a lot about the way I thought about things since I’d moved here.

  The bell above the door gave a cheery little jangle. The sound was bright and soft enough not to grate on my nerves, and it kind of reminded me of the shop’s owner.

  I’d wanted to dislike Poppy Morton. Not just because I’d been convinced that she was scamming people with snake oil, but because she’d broken Marty’s heart. But, as it turned out, the potions were real, and relationships, just like people, were complicated. And sometimes there were folks who were just too nice to dislike.

  As I stepped into the store, with all its heavy wooden and glass shelves and rainbow assortment of little glass bottles like an old-fashioned apothecary, Poppy looked up from where she was fussing over an older woman in a purple sweater.

  Usually, Poppy was pretty. She was younger than me, but still in her forties, and she had this sunny disposition that made everyone want to smile themselves. Her beauty was the girl-next-door variety—the all American picture of a blue-eyed-blonde in jeans and a t-shirt. But now? Well, now she appeared a bit disheveled. Well, they both did. But Poppy’s pale hair had started frizzing out of the braid she’d pulled it into, because she kept tugging on it nervously, while the older lady looked mostly embarrassed. Poppy then poured a potion onto a square of gauze to wipe the lady’s palms. They both looked pale and drawn, the hollows under their eyes shadowed.

  “Hey, Poppy.” I kept my voice serious, but light. No perpetrators here. “You said there’d been an accident?”

  “Oh, my goodness,” the older lady said, her gray curls trembling with mortification. “You didn’t need to call the police, dear. I told you, I’m perfectly fine.”

  Poppy smiled brightly, but I could see the strain around the edges. “Mrs. Grayson, people don’t collapse on the sidewalk because they’re ‘perfectly fine’ and you know as well as I do that there is no way I was going to let you leave here without making sure you’re okay.”

  “You’re such a dear,” Mrs. Grayson responded.

  “You collapsed, ma’am?” I asked. That didn’t sound good.

  “I don’t want to make a fuss,” she fluttered, trying to wave her hands while Poppy was still cleaning them. “I’m only in town for a few days, and I wanted to see all the stores. It’s just, I haven’t been sleeping very well since I arrived here. Too much excitement, I think, too much to do. It all just caught up to me.”

  Poppy stood up then, clutching the used gauze in her hands as she moved towards me and the counter where she tossed it into the garbage.

  “What happened?” I asked her.

  Poppy inhaled deeply and pushed her hair out of her face as her plump lips folded down into a frown. “She just dropped outside the window,” she said quietly. “I’d never seen anyone fall like that before—like she just dropped with no warning. She’s a little banged up, a few bruises, a scraped palm. I was just worried. A fall at her age is dangerous, you know? She doesn’t want to go to the hospital, though.”

  As far as I could tell, Mrs. Grayson wasn’t bleeding out, and there were no visible broken bones, so I couldn’t exactly force her to get checked out, and a trip to the ER was sometimes out of people’s budgets. I understood that.

  “Here, Mrs. Grayson.” Poppy came back around the counter with a creamy white candle in her hands. It was as thick around as her wrist, and the wax had little flecks of flowers in it, lavender, if the whiff I got as she moved by was any indication.

  Poppy pressed the candle into the woman’s newly bandaged hand. “This is a sleepy time candle. It will help you get a restful night’s sleep and peaceful dreams. I hope it helps you while you’re in town. It’s frustrating to be tired on vacation and I don’t want you to have another fall.”

  I sighed as the older woman protested, but eventually she accepted the candle. And that was exactly why it was hard to stay angry at Poppy. She really was just that nice. She didn’t even hesitate to give away potions and a candle to someone, just because they needed it. Though someone was really going to have to explain to her what the concept of charging was.

  And as to the other reason I could have tried to dislike Poppy—well, even Marty seemed to not be over their breakup, necessarily, but he seemed to be back to his usual cheerful self. He was like a golden retriever in a human body. But then, I’d always been better at holding a grudge than he was and where Poppy was concerned, he wasn’t holding a grudge.

  Poppy handed the woman a cup of tea, freshly brewed from the kettle in the back, and then drifted back over to me.

  “I’m sorry to drag you out here for this.” Poppy wrung her hands, her eyes looking very blue and earnest over the dark smudges underneath them. “It’s not just this lady, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged. “Haven’t you noticed? Everyone in town seems to be dragging themselves around lately. I’d thought it was just me, at first. But then I realized I’m sold out of most sleep aids, and I’m on back order for Zest potions. I can barely make enough to keep myself going at this point.” She looked up into my face, and hesitated a moment before adding, “Even you look tired, Taliyah. Are you having trouble sleeping, too?”

  I shrugged, a little unnerved by her comment, but not willing to show it. “Being sleepless isn’t exactly unusual for me. I have a lot on my mind. But... the fact that everyone else seems to be tired lately... I have noticed it and it is... well, weird.”

  It made me think of Fifi the other night. Healthy, responsible Fifi, who was so tired, she’d passed out driving home from the office and managed to drive into a ditch. It had only been luck that no one had been seriously hurt. But if it was more of an endemic thing, if more people in town were suddenly plagued with insomnia, that was definitely worth a second glance.

  If I’d learned one thing since coming to Haven Hollow, it was that nothing was as it seemed.

  “I’ll look into it,” I assured Poppy.

  She smiled, sweet and trusting. “Thanks, Taliyah.”

  As she turned back to her patient, I headed out. The chime over the door was expected, but somehow more irritating the second time.

  While I was here, I decided to do a walk down Main Street. It was something I liked to do, just to check in with the residents from time-to-time, make sure everything was going alright, but I rarely had a chance to. For such a small town, Haven Hollow had enough going on to keep a whole police department busy.

  As I walked down the street, taking everything in, what I saw didn’t exactly fill me with ease. There were a lot of drawn faces, a lot of shadows under eyes and so many yawns, I felt myself yawning in response. I did my best to make a little small talk, and sure enough, it seemed like just about everyone was having a brush with insomnia, or at least restless nights. Was it a coincidence? The change in the weather? Something more nefarious? What could affect the entire town this way?

  By the time I finished my round of check-ins, the sun was sinking beneath the horizon, indigo slowly creeping up into the sky, and it was time for me to head home.

  I made sure to keep the radio turned up to help fight the drowsiness that was clinging to my shoulders. I just needed a good night’s sleep, and that would make everything look better in the morning. Maybe I should have asked Poppy if she’d had any more of those candles.

  As I drove along the long stretch of road that paralleled the woods, bobbing lights caught my eye, and I risked glancing away from the circles of my headlights to look at the trees.

  Little tiny flickers danced below the branches of the trees, like stars in the night sky. Fireflies filled the woods, their bright glows winking cheerfully as I drove by. Strange that they were still out this late in the season.

  ***

  Sleep was a fitful, flighty thing that night. I tossed, and I turned, and I punched my pillow, but nothing worked. I finally fell into a kind of light doze sometime after midnight, only to be woken up a couple hours later when Charlie started screaming.

  I was up and out of bed, bolting towards the door before I fully opened my eyes. A cold blast of winter wind rolled over my skin, coating the carpet in frost as I skidded out into the hallway.

  By the time I got to the boys’ room, Sean was already sitting up looking frightened, and Charlie was sobbing his eyes out, his dog stuffy clutched to his chest.

  The window was closed, and there was no one in the room other than the boys, as far as I could tell. No threat, mundane or supernatural appeared before me, and I let out the breath I’d been holding, my heart still doing its best to kick itself right up into my throat.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?” Frost clung to my hands, and bitter wind whipped up inside me as if just awaiting to be released. If anyone had tried to hurt my kids, I was going to make sure they regretted it.

  “Mom.” Charlie hiccupped, his little face streaked with tears, his nose cherry red. “I had a bad dream.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” I went into the room to perch on Charlie’s bed beside him. “I’m sorry. Come here.”

  He buried his face in my shoulder, and I rubbed his little back, feeling his heart beating rabbit quick in his chest. I let him hide there for a little while longer as I tried to convince my body that, no, nothing was wrong. It was just a bad dream. And that was it. I could stuff Winter back wherever it had been waiting. And no need for all that adrenaline, either.

  When his breathing had calmed and he finally sat back, I gave him a little hug around his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about your dream?”

  Charlie took in a shaky breath. “It was dark, and there were these big scary trees, and I saw you and Sean, but when I ran towards you, you just left, even when I asked you to wait! And I couldn’t find you, but someone kept laughing at me, and I was so scared.”

  “It sounds scary,” I told him, sympathy twisting through my chest. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. But you know your brother and I would never leave you behind, right?”

  Charlie gulped back some fresh tears, and nodded.

  Sean crawled up on the other side of Charlie’s bed, anxiously watching his brother. “I wouldn’t leave you, Charlie,” he said.

  Creepy dreams weren’t anything I could fight or scare away, and I hated that. I couldn’t protect my boys from their own subconsciouses, but I wanted to. God, did I want to.

  Part of me worried about just what might have happened to trigger such a dream. Did Charlie not trust that I was his mom or that I would keep him safe? Did he think that I might actually abandon him and Sean? Never. I’d never do that. But the trick would be convincing him of as much.

  Charlie looked at me with big, teary dark eyes. “Can I sleep in your room tonight?”

  “Me too?” Sean asked.

  I smiled and smoothed his hair back off his sweaty forehead as I turned to look at Sean and opened my arms to him as he crawled into the cocoon of my chest. “Of course.”