Before I moved home to Moonshadow Bay, I had spent eighteen long years married to a total ass. That is, until he found himself a trophy girlfriend and swindled me out of the business he and I had built. But he went too far, and when he ended up attacking me, he also landed himself a home arrest warrant. Woo-hoo for the karma police!

  Unfortunately, in the past few years, I not only lost my business and my sense of self, but my parents had died in a car crash. When I returned to Moonshadow Bay from Seattle, I took over their house. I also found myself a job at Conjure Ink, a paranormal investigations agency, and I fell in love with my new neighbor, Killian O’Connell. Now, two years later, I lived in his house, and we were getting married in ten days on the Winter Solstice.

  So that’s my story up till now, sans all the freakshow adventures I’d had, and twisted family history I discovered along the way. Chronic illness or not, I’m truly happy, and while I don’t believe in happily ever after, I certainly do believe in trying to find some form of joy every day.

  Killian woke me with a kiss when he got home. I yawned, squinting in the dim light. We had installed a bedside lamp that ran on three cycles—dim, moderate, and bright. That way, if I was skirting a migraine, I could manage the dim light while trying to get to bed. It was one of the many modifications I’d made to my life.

  “Hey, what time is it?” I asked, yawning.

  “It’s eight-fifteen. I thought you might sleep right through, so I stopped to pick up dinner. Hope you don’t mind fried chicken and all the sides.” He kissed me again, then moved away to give me room to get up.

  I hated taking naps—I always felt so disconcerted afterward, but it beat having a headache swoop down on me. Luckily, even in my foggy post-sleep haze, I could tell that the one that had been threatening me had backed off. So the nap had been a good thing.

  I rolled up, swung my feet over the bed, and stretched. “Chicken sounds fantastic.”

  Killian held out his hand as he stood and I took it. He pulled me to my feet. “Go wash up and I’ll set the table.”

  “You are truly a dream, you know that?” I said, padding toward the bathroom. “Make me a latte, would you? The caffeine helps me with my headaches.”

  “You love that you can drink all the caffeine you want without any of us being able to call you on it, don’t you?” Killian laughed as he headed out of the bedroom.

  He was gorgeous. Around six feet, he was three inches taller than me, and his hair coiled down his shoulders like golden wheat. He had a scruff of a beard, and gorgeous green eyes that matched my own. A scar ran down one of his cheeks, thanks to a wounded lynx he treated a long time ago. With broad shoulders and a sturdy build, Killian was a wolf shifter, and he was 122 years old. We did have an age difference, given I was forty-two going on forty-three next month, but it didn’t matter to either of us and he seemed to be right around my age in his maturity and growth.

  Just thinking about his naked body made me horny, and I wondered if I could manage a romp in the sheets after dinner. The headaches had put a dent in our sex life, but we did our best to work around them, and we made up for the fallow times.

  I washed my hands and slapped some cold water on my face, then straightened my clothes and headed for the kitchen. As I passed back through the bedroom, I decided that this room would be my next renovation project. Killian had okayed me changing out most of the rooms in the house to suit my taste, and the bedroom was the first. The style felt ponderous, weighed down by the neutral tones he had left untouched when he moved in. I loathed beige, and I wasn’t that fond of taupe or any shade like that, either.

  The smell of the chicken filled my senses as I entered the kitchen and my mouth began to salivate. Killian had brought mac ’n cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy, biscuits and coleslaw for the sides, and he handed me the mac ’n cheese without a word. While I liked potatoes and gravy, mac ’n cheese was a favorite. I scooped it onto my plate.

  “How did the clinic go today?”

  Killian shook his head. “It was an easy day in the regular clinic, actually, except for Harcourt Moonbeam.”

  I groaned. “Not him again.” I’d heard so many Harcourt stories that I felt like I knew the guy. “What did he do this time?”

  “He tried to teach his parrot to play D&D. The parrot swallowed one of the dice, which got stuck in its throat. So we had to do emergency surgery on the bird.”

  I’d also heard so many tales of Harcourt’s parrot that I wanted to steal the bird from him and rehome it. The man was stupid beyond belief, and the parrot was a wild child—his escapes were legendary. And he was a bird who was out for revenge whenever he felt ignored. But Killian made me promise I wouldn’t touch the feathered fiend.

  “Did he survive?” I selected a thigh and a breast piece and bit into the chicken, which tasted so good that I closed my eyes to savor the flavor.

  “Yeah, Damascus survived. I told Harcourt to stick to items that the parrot can’t swallow and he seemed to think it an unusual, yet possible endeavor. Good gods, that man’s a clueless asshole. I wish I could cut him off. But none of the other vets in town will treat the bird—they’re so fed up with Harcourt. And somebody has to look after that manic ball of feathers and fluff.”

  The parrot matched Harcourt’s demeanor, and that alone was reason enough not to kidnap the bird. Nobody else would put up with him.

  “Well, at least you did your good deed for the day,” I said, spearing a biscuit with my fork. “Although I count three hours of spaying and neutering for free to be a lot more of a good deed.”

  “I’d like to think it was all good, but you remember Alicia?”

  “Alicia King? Who lives over on Castle Street and was here for Thanksgiving?”

  “Right,” Killian said. “We had to put down Fwufnut, her 24-year-old cat today. I don’t feel like a hero for that one.”

  I knew Alicia and liked the older woman. Her kids ignored her, and she lived alone and spent most of her time minding her own business. But Fwufnut had been her confidant and her best friend.

  “I’ll buy some flowers tomorrow for her.” I sighed. “Oh, wait till I tell you what’s going on with Ari and Meagan.” In between bites, I told him about the home invasion and the two kids. “Looks like they’re getting a family they didn’t expect. Neither child is in school yet. And they’re both…wait, I don’t even know what type of Otherkin the kids are, or if they’re human. Though I doubt the latter.”

  Killian blinked. “They’re going to need a lot of help. Given Ari’s parents live up in Terameth Lake, and Meagan’s family has pretty much disowned her, they don’t have a strong support system. Maybe Tarvish and I can make ourselves useful over there—whether it’s moving in bunkbeds or moving furniture around or whatever they need.”

  “That would be wonderful,” I said, loving him even more. “I’ll let Ari know.” I finished my dinner and yawned. “I don’t want to go back to bed yet. I spend so much more time there than I used to and very little of it’s playtime.” I stared at my plate. “I wish I could will this crap away.”

  “I know, but you can’t. It’s going to take some time for you to get used to dealing with it, so be patient with yourself. I’d suggest a drive, but we’re getting snow tonight.”

  “I didn’t hear anything about snow in the forecast—” I started to say, but he shook his head.

  “Mark my words, it’s going to snow overnight. Come on, let’s go watch a movie together.” He picked up the dishes and carried them over to the counter. We’d eaten in the kitchen breakfast nook. After he scraped the bones off, I stacked the plates in the dishwasher. Then we headed into the bedroom to pile on the bed with the cats and we watched It’s A Wonderful Life, one of Killian’s favorite movies. By the end, I was falling asleep again, and the last thing I remembered was him making sure I was covered up with the comforter, tucking me deep under the snowdrift of blankets.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I woke to a winter wonderland. The morning light seemed so bright that I had to shade my eyes, but there wasn’t any warm sunlight streaming in. I padded over to the window overlooking the side yard not facing my old house, and I gasped.

  “It snowed! You were right,” I said, staring at the thick layer of snow that coated everything. There had to be at least four inches out there. I bounded back to the bed and jumped aboard. “Wake up! Snow day!” I grabbed one of my pillows and brought it down on Killian’s head.

  “What the…? What are you doing, woman?” He struggled to sit up and caught hold of the pillow, taking it out of my hand. As he dropped it on the bed again, he caught me up with his other arm and pulled me close to him. “Stop that, you unruly wench!” He maneuvered me over his knee, facing down, pulled up my nightie and administered a couple easy smacks on my butt, which only succeeded in turning me on.

  I scrambled around to where I was staring into his groin and I managed to fumble open his pajama bottoms. His cock sprang up, gloriously hard and ready. He groaned as I took him in my mouth and began to create suction around his shaft, holding it tightly between my lips. With a long moan, he leaned back against the headboard, one hand behind his head while he used the other to ruffle my hair.

  “Oh, that’s good,” he whispered. “Oh, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

  I worked him with my tongue and lips, creating such tight suction that I could feel the skin moving with my lips. He moaned again as I began to speed up the pace, bobbing and weaving, trailing the shaft with long licks. Then I pursed my lips and once again, slowly drove downward on him, tightening the suction as I gripped him with my mouth.

  He let go of my head, grasping the sheets to either side, his knuckles white.

  “Oh babe…you’re so good. Don’t stop…blow me, babe, blow me.”

  As I picked up the pace, he let out one last moan, bucking as he came. The salty spray of his jizz filled my mouth and I swallowed, finishing him off. A moment later, he dropped back against the pillows, grunting, and pulled me into his arms. He offered me a tissue and a mint. I wiped my lips, then popped the mint in my mouth.

  “Good morning to you, too,” he said. “What did I do to deserve that treat?” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

  “I wanted to say thank you…for being you. For being so great to me over the past few weeks. I know we haven’t had as much sex as either one of us wants, with the headaches and all.”

  He gathered me close and stroked my cheek. “What we have is fine. We’ll figure out our way through this. And quality is always better than quantity. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere…except to work,” he added, glancing at the clock. “We’ll both be late if we don’t get moving.” Pausing, he added, “Can you make it to work today?”

  “Yeah, I should be fine. The headache that was starting last night seems to have disappeared, thank gods.”

  “Do you want me to take care of you before we head out? I’m ready, willing, and able,” he said, sliding his hand down my belly.

  “I’d love it, but you’re right, we’ll be late if we don’t head out. I do need breakfast, though. Do we have any doughnuts?”

  Killian slipped out from beneath the covers. “I don’t know, but you’re better off with a sausage cheese muffin, rather than sugar. Hate to remind you, love, but sugar makes your migraines worse.”

  That was one unacceptable truth that we’d discovered over the past weeks. When I ate more than a few bites of a sugary product, my migraines were more likely to come on and stick around longer.

  “I don’t care,” I said, frowning. “Well, yes I do but…okay, I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I need to rinse off under the shower quickly.”

  As I headed for the shower, Killian slid into a pair of pants and a button-down shirt, then brushed his hair back into a ponytail and headed to the kitchen.

  I watched him go, then ducked in for a quick shower. Afterward, I dressed in a maxi skirt and V-neck sweater. I fastened my hair back and slapped on a quick face of makeup. Ready for work, I headed to the kitchen, where Killian had made toast. I spread peanut butter on two slices, then a thin layer of honey. Sandwich in hand, I grabbed my purse and followed him out to our cars.

  With one last goodbye, we headed off to work, the day officially started.

  Conjure Ink was now firmly established at our new address. The downstairs of the house, with the exception of the kitchen and the bathrooms, was officially office space. Tad lived upstairs, and had turned the entire floor into an apartment. He used the kitchen downstairs, but otherwise, almost all of his personal items were out of sight.

  As I entered the office, everybody was there except for Wren. I glanced at her desk, which looked untouched.

  “Wren out today?” I asked.

  Tad glanced up at me. “Walter’s having a rough day. She called in about twenty minutes ago. How are you feeling?”

  Tad had been exceptionally helpful when I developed the chronic migraines, and he went above and beyond for all of us. I did my best to be in the office as many days as I could, but cutting my time by 40 percent gave me a lot of leeway. Of course, my headaches didn’t run on a schedule, so sometimes we had to change things out, but overall, I managed my new schedule without too much interruption.

  “I’m okay, I think. Had a headache looming last night, but it seems to have backed off today.” I settled in at my desk. I had stopped on the way to get a latte and a bag of nuts to munch on. I was making more of an attempt to keep my blood sugar balanced, which helped my system and therefore, my headaches.

  We gathered at the main table, notes in hand. Tad was about to call the meeting to order when my phone jangled, notifying me of a text. It was the caterer. We were going with Twinkle Toes Catering for the actual food—they were kitchen witches who always added a touch of magic to their food. The cake, we had already ordered from a baker in town.

  can you come in this afternoon? we have a last-minute emergency—we may not be able to get the crab for your wedding. it would be good to have a substitute planned, so could you drop by around two in order to discuss a backup plan?

  I texted back: i can make it around two. see you then.

  “Tad? My caterer needs to see me at this afternoon—there’s some hangup with the menu and they need me to discuss other options for one of the choices. Do you mind if I leave early?”

  “That’s fine. Okay, we’re pretty quiet on cases at the moment, so does anybody have anything that they might want to open up?”

  “I’d like to look into the Woodlings more,” I said. We’d had several cases where we’d dealt with the Ent-like denizens of the Mystic Wood, but when it came down to it, we really knew very little about them. And given they served the Fae folk, and I was bound in service to one of them—I owed one of the Fae a big favor—I wanted to start studying up on what I might expect.

  “That’s good, I like that.” Tad noted my suggestion down. “Caitlin, anything come up for you?”

  She flipped through her notes. “Not really. I think following up on the Woodlings sounds interesting. Ever since we encountered them, I’ve been intrigued by them. So I’ll second that idea.”

  Tad pointed to Hank. “What about you?”

  “No Bigfoot this time, I promise. But the past few months, we’ve had an influx in reports of UFO sightings around the area. Also, near the San Juan islands. I’d like to talk to some of the witnesses.” He gnawed on his bottom lip. “I thought—”

  “Oh no,” I said. “I am not going to stake out a UFO and get dragged aboard and probed. Remember—”

  “Bigfoot. I know, I know. I just want to interview the people who witnessed the sightings,” Hank said. I expected him to roll his eyes, but he held up his hands. “I promise, I won’t ask anybody to go out watching for them with me.”

  “But you fully intend to go out there yourself?” Caitlin asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Hank sighed. “I told you, I’m not asking anybody else to go out hunting for UFOs. I wouldn’t mind backup for questioning the witnesses, but…I won’t put anybody else in danger again.”

  It was obvious he intended on heading out on some scouting trips. Even though I didn’t want to go, it wasn’t my job to prevent Hank from doing so on his own time. We could tell him he was asking for trouble, but in the end, he was a man who was obsessed—with Bigfoot, and with UFOs. And obsession was a strong lure.

  “So, answer me this. If we go out to talk to the witnesses with you, will you be satisfied with that for a while?” Tad asked. “We need you, and frankly, after the Bigfoot mess—which I take partial responsibility for, I never should have okayed the trip—if you go hunting for UFOs, you’re looking for trouble.”

  Hank scowled. “Can we get off the subject? If you want to go with me to interview the witnesses, great. If not, I can do it on my own time.”

  The surly tone surprised me. Then again, we had been on his back about what happened for a couple months. Maybe it was time to let it go. Except that, thanks to the trip, I was bound by two promises I’d had to make to save our butts. It was hard to imagine letting both of those promises go until I came out safely on the other side.

  “Why don’t we start by assigning Caitlin and January to researching the Woodlings, and Hank—you and I will tackle the UFO witnesses,” Tad said. He shifted, wincing. He was still using his cane, and although he was healing up, the injuries had been harsher than we had first thought and his recovery was taking a long time.

  “Are you sure?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah, I’m up for it,” Tad said. He opened up his calendar. “We’ll plan it for after January’s wedding.”

  “If you do, and I’m back from our week in Port Townsend, I’ll go too.” I decided that I had to either forever hang Hank out to dry, or put it to rest. Yes, the ramifications of what he did were still looming in front of me, but he really hadn’t meant for all of that to happen. And I knew—absolutely knew—that if Hank was given the chance to take on the vows I’d had to make, he’d willingly shoulder the responsibility without question.