“Aubrey,” I repeat, and I swear I catch a slight hitch in her breathing.
The bell above the door chimes, breaking whatever spell has fallen over us. An elderly monster enters—Mrs. Brindlewood, one of my regular customers, her were-dragon form barely fitting through the doorway.
“Sundar, darling!” she calls out, her scaled wings rustling as she navigates around a display case. “You simply must see what I found at that estate sale—Oh! I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
I notice Aubrey taking an instinctive step back, though not in fear—more like she’s suddenly remembered where she is and what she’s doing. “No, I was just leaving,” she says quickly. Then, with one last look at me, she says, “See you soon.”
I watch her hurry out, my tongue flicking unconsciously to catch the lingering traces of her scent. And even after she’s gone, I still feel the ghost of her presence, like warm sunlight on my scales.
“Well, well,” Mrs. Brindlewood croons, her dragon eyes twinkling. “That was interesting.”
I shoot her a quelling look, but she just grins, smoke curling from her nostrils.
“Now dear, don’t give me that face. I haven’t seen you so engaged with a customer since… well, ever.”
“She was pawning a family heirloom,” I say stiffly, already regretting every moment of unprofessional behavior I’d displayed. “Nothing more.”
“Mmhmm.” She sets a wrapped package on the counter. “And I suppose that’s why your tail is coiled up tighter than a pixie’s knot?”
I force my tail to unfurl, refusing to acknowledge that she’s right. “You mentioned an estate sale find?”
Mrs. Brindlewood grins with knowing amusement, but she mercifully allows the subject to change, and before long, theafternoon flies by, filled with Mrs. Brindlewood’s chatter and the usual business of curse nullification, artifact research, and price haggling.
When evening finally comes and I prepare to close the shop, I find myself drawn back to the morning’s transaction. My fingers ghost over her name in the ledger.
Aubrey Garrett.
My pen hovers over the page longer than necessary, and I tell myself I’m merely double-checking the documentation. But as I trace the loops of her signature, I know there’s more to it than that.
She shouldn’t have lingered in my thoughts as she did, if only because letting my guard down—even for a moment—never ended well. I had learned the hard way with Nalini that curiosity in others could just as easily turn venomous.
But then again, I sensed no venom in Aubrey, even when she took offense at my offer.
I had only sensed an unexpected warmth that somehow felt more dangerous.
Thirty days suddenly seems like both too long and not long enough.
Chapter 3
Terms and Conditions
Aubrey
Red numbers mock mefrom my laptop screen, each digit a tiny digital middle finger. I’ve rearranged this spreadsheet so many times the cells are practically dizzying, but math is math. And math, apparently, is a cold-hearted bitch.
Basic arithmetic has become my enemy, and no matter how I juggle the numbers, I’m still three hundred dollars short.
Three. Hundred. Dollars.
The amount taunts me, especially since I know exactly where that money went: the car repair I couldn’t put off, the dental filling that couldn’t wait, and that one moment of weakness when I chose to buy actual groceries instead of living off ramen for another week. Real food seemed important at the time. Now I’m wondering if I should have just embraced scurvy.
I scrub my hands over my face, trying not to think about tomorrow. About walking into that shop. About facinghim.
Sundar.
God, even his name in my head makes me feel fuzzy. Over the past month, I’ve thought about him way more than any sane person should ever think about their pawnbroker. I’ve replayed our interaction approximately eight million times, analyzing every word, every gleam of those mesmerizing golden eyes, every subtle shift of his powerful tail.
That tail. The way it moved, so fluid and strong, coiling beneath him like living silk…
