Mint is common, you know that.
Outwardly, nothing about William was off. He was sweaty, sure, maybe a little too eager to make friends. But his grip was normal, and he let go fast.
I wiped my hand on my jeans, trying to erase the stinging sensation. "That stuff is potent," I said, trying to keep it light.
William actually grimaced. "Tell me about it. It stings going on. But it does help."
It was a joke, but Caden was still prowling under my skin, digging claws into my ribs. I scanned William again. No hunter's talismans, no silver jewelry, not a hint of blood on his scent. Just too much mint scent and a handshake that made my knuckles burn for a full minute after he let go.
"You got someone who can pick you up?" I asked, opening my truck door. I needed distance.
"I'll just wait here. Tow won't take long, and I gotemails to answer if the battery comes back. Sorry again for the trouble."
He didn't look sorry, but he didn't look dangerous, either. Not to a regular human, at least. Caden hissed in disagreement.
I kept my poker face. "All good. See you around."
He went back to poking around the crash site for clues about the missing dog.
I slid behind my wheel and cranked the engine. The minute the window went up, the mint poison started to fade. My hands shook on the wheel.
Not normal. Too close. Not safe.
He's just a weirdo with a nasty lotion.The accident looked real.
I wanted to find the dog, but I'd have to wait until the coast was clear. I couldn't fly over in broad daylight.
Hunter, Caden insisted. Dragons hated mint. Caden despised it. But I'd never run into a person who practically bathed in the stuff.
I'd seen hunters before. Broken a few bones in the process. They never showed up without a plan, or without trying to draw blood right out of the gate. Nothing this guy had done was like that.
I pulled away from the bridge as the tow truck rumbled into view, sun glinting off the flatbed.William flagged the driver down, all business again.
I didn't look back. My brain wouldn't let go of the unease, though. By the time the bakery's sign came into view, I realized I'd barely registered the last three miles.
The smell of cinnamon and yeast was still heavy in the air as I parked behind the shop. Maeve's car was there, and I could see her through the back window, pacing near the oven with her phone pressed to her chin. The world felt normal again. Almost boring, if I ignored Caden's grumbles. Normal never lasted long these days, not with the memory of her face in the water still burned behind my eyelids.
Maeve caught the energy the second I crossed into the kitchen. She was checking a tray of muffins, but her eyes darted up. "Everything okay? Why do you reek of mint?"
"Yeah, just tired. The bridge was blocked. Some SkyArc suit wrecked his truck while dodging a dog. He was wearing some kind of lotion with a strong mint odor."
She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh. I'm heading out, unless you need me?"
I waved her off. "Go. I've got the place. It's slowanyway."
She didn't argue. She shed her apron, grabbed her purse, and slipped out the back, moving quickly. I caught the bakery door swinging shut behind her.
Silence. Real silence. Finally.
I double-checked the displays, wiped the counter and then headed to the back. I'd barely dropped onto the office chair when my phone lit up. Unknown number. Knoxville area code. I recognized it instantly. My pulse spiked so hard I nearly dropped the phone.
"Hey," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Sweet Dragon Bakery, this is Chance. How can I help?"
She hesitated, just a second. "Um. Hi, this is Tash Winters. I… Do you have a minute?"
Her voice hit me so hard my pulse kicked like I'd been punched from the inside. "Yeah," I said, too fast. "Yeah, come by. Meet me in the back. The doors open, just head straight through."
"Thanks," she said softly, and hung up.
