Like her bestie, Phoebe didn’t give half-assed apologies. And even though I hadn’t actively been holding a grudge, the energy in the car shifted, telling me she’d given me what I needed to hear.
“Thank you, Phoebe. I appreciate that, and there are no hard feelings.”
My mission partner let out a massive exhale. “No, thankyou. I’ve wanted to clear the air for a while, but didn’t know how to bring it up.” She gave me a sheepish look. “Sometimes the simplest things are the hardest, I guess. At least that’s what my mom says.”
“Wise woman.”
Phoebe nodded and then leaned forward over the steering wheel and pointed up ahead. “Is that the turn?”
I directed my attention to where she was pointing and nodded. “That’s got to be it.”
A minute later, she turned onto the road, and smooth cement became jostling gravel, occasionally broken up by potholes the size of roasting pans. It would be slow going the rest of the way.
My finger followed the line on the map. “Looks like we have about two more miles, and then this road becomes the main street of Crescent Springs. There are no turns or anything until we get into town, so we can’t miss it.”
“And theydefinitelywon’t miss us,” Phoebe added.
She was right. Outsiders would be obvious in a town this small and secluded.
Gradually, the trees thinned, and a town emerged. My lips parted in shock. I’d expected Crescent Springs would be a sweet little resort town filled with tiny but chic boutique establishments.
I was so, so wrong.
Every single building on the main street was either a classy looking restaurant, a large hotel, or a legit mansion—some that rivaled those back in Beverly Hills. I peered down a side street and saw more of the same.
The overt lavishness seemed weird. Not because it was unexpected for wealthy people to enjoy rustic places. I knew better than that. But all my parents’ friends preferred their fancy vacation homes in places they could fly directly to. Crescent Springs had taken us five hours to get to from Denver. I couldn’t see many of my parents’ friends committing to that sort of travel regularly.
And who in the world would have trucked supplies this far out? The construction costs of transporting and building this place must have been astronomical.
Phoebe found a parking spot right in front of a little French bistro. When we got out of the car, the tantalizing aroma of baked bread filled my nostrils.
“You hungry?” I asked, my mouth already watering. “Maybe we can grab a croissant and coffee, and walk around to get the feel of the town?”
Phoebe nodded, and we veered into the bakery. It was empty except for a girl our age behind the register who wore a name-tag proclaiming that she was Leslie.
“Hi, what can I get for you?”
“I’d like a coffee with cream, no sugar, and a pan au chocolate, please,” I said.
Leslie nodded, got what I ordered, and rang me up. I tipped her generously. First impressions in a town like this were extremely important.
For the first time, she broke a smile. “Thanks so much,” she said and then took Phoebe’s order.
My partner wasn’t as prepared as I had been, so it took her a few minutes to decide, which suited our purposes well. It gave me a moment to look around.
My eyes roved over the bistro. It was tastefully decorated with black and gold fleur de lis. Photographs of people in muted, natural surroundings lined the walls closest to the register.
“Are those the owners of the bistro?” I asked, gesturing to the nearest photo.
Leslie’s eyes shot to the pictures, and she nodded. “Yup and some of their friends are in the others. If you guys are staying at the Crescent Springs Hotel and Spa, you’ll probably see those two.” She pointed to a picture of a handsome couple, both brunettes and in their mid-forties. Even though the picture was taken from far away, something about it caught my attention. The couple’s eyes were a strange shade of amber and seemed to glow back at me.
My spine stiffened as I realized what type of supernatural we might find in Crescent Springs.
Shifters typically had amber or silver eyes, depending on their animal aspect. The brighter the color, the more powerful they were. The ones in this photo must be very strong, if the shade of their eyes was any indication.
“We haven’t booked for the night,” Phoebe said. “Should we have done that in advance? We heard it was the slow season.”
Leslie shook her head and handed over Phoebe’s latte and a pastry. “Nah, you’re good. In two weeks, no one will get in without booking. But you two came at the perfect time. It seems like right now everyone is staying away.”
