“I know about Terry.” He looked at her curiously, but not in a way that was rude or lascivious—more just curious. “I didn’t know there were any others in town.”
“Just me.” She nodded to his tattoos. “You’re not one of us, but—do these have meaning? I haven’t met other shifters with tattoos.”
Mitch’s cautiously friendly expression shut down immediately. “They’re personal,” he said shortly.
Cela couldn’t imagine what custom she had transgressed this time, but she supposed there would be a lot of that sort of thing in her future. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
Her apologetic dismay seemed to soften him. “It’s not that. Look, they’re jail tattoos, all right? This one’s a phoenix.” He extended his left arm and flexed it. The bird’s feathers seemed to dance.
Cela smiled, accepting the peace offering. There was still a sense of reserve to him, but he didn’t seem to be mad.
“Do you know anything about ... about griffin tattoos?” she asked. The tattoo didn’t stop her; the relief was almost dizzying. “Tyr—that is, Terry and I are trying to find a way to undo some of the magic on mine.”
“Yeah, the tattoos don’t let you talk about it, right?”
“Mine does more than that.” Cela looked away, but she was too far along to stop. “I can’t touch my own kind.”
“Jeez.” The crudeness of the word was belied by the soft sympathy underneath. “That’s rough. Who would do something like that to a nice kid like you?”
She had to smile against the threatening tears. Mitch was probably ten or fifteen years older, so she supposed she did seem like a kid to him, but she hadn’t felt like that in a long, long time—not as a woman in her late twenties with two babies.
“It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
“Yeah, sorry. I understand about complicated. And not being able to be with someone you want to be with.” His gaze dropped briefly to his tattoos. Maybe they didn’t have griffin magic, Cela thought, but they were still very significant to him. Then he looked back up at her. “I might’ve heard a thing or two about magic tattoos. Want me to ask around?”
“Yes, please. I would really appreciate it,” she said eagerly. “I’ll take any chance.”
“Hey, C!” It was Peyton, leaning out the back door of the bakery and calling down the alley to her. “Your boy’s here to pick you up!”
“Thank you!” Cela called back. Turning to say goodbye to Mitch, she saw him looking at her with an odd expression of wistful longing.
“Who’s your fella—Terry?”
“Tyr,” she said. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to correct him, when she hadn’t with the others; it just felt right. “His name among the griffins is Tyr.”
“Tyr. I’ll remember.” Mitch gave her a brief nod. “Good luck breaking that magic, kid. I’ll ask around, see what I can do.”
“Thank you.” Cela smiled shyly back, then hurried down the alley to the bakery.
She got there to find that Gaby had arrived and was scrubbing her hands before tying back her hair. “Morning! Peyton said you’re settling in well. Sorry I wasn’t here to get you started.”
“No problem,” Peyton declared, bustling by with a tray ofmuffins. “She’s been great. Gaby, I think we’ve got a line at the counter; want me to get it?”
“Yes, thank you.” Gaby put her hair up under a net. “How do you like the work?” she asked Cela.
“It’s great,” Cela said. Realizing that might be a little too enthusiastic for working in a kitchen, she amended it to, “I like making deliveries.”
“Oh, good! In that case, I think that’ll be your main job for now. I’ve really been wanting to expand that side of the business a bit, but we’re limited on staff, especially when things come up.”
“Peyton said your kids were sick. Are they all right?”
“Oh, it’s fine, Mina had a bad earache and I was up with her half the night. She’s sleeping now and her dad is handling it, so I took a quick nap and came in.” Gaby did up her apron strings behind her back with swift, expert fingers. “Actually, if everything went okay with you and Peyton, I think I might have you two handle openings for the next few days so I can do a later shift. It would give me a break and cover our afternoons better, since we don’t currently have part-time counter help.”
Peyton leaned in from the counter side of the kitchen door. “Hey, Cela, your fella’s here!”
She ducked back out again. Cela fumbled with her apron strings. “Thank you,” she told Gaby. “I really appreciate this. I needed this job so much.”
“Well, we needed the extra hands, and Peyton says you’re a quick study.” Gaby smiled at her. “See you tomorrow. Peyton can pick you up again.”
