I pulled out my phone and sent Declan a text.
Me:Fletcher just tried to recruit Beckett. Beckett turned him down. We need to talk.
The reply came back in under a minute.
Declan:We do. I have things to tell you, too. Also, I may have accidentally seen through Licorice's eyes today, and there’s a lot to unpack there.
Declan:Also I went to yoga and drank beer.
I stared at my phone for a moment.
Me:Come to the pub when you're ready.
Declan:Already on my way. Save me something to eat.
I pocketed my phone and looked around. The pub hummed along like normal. People eating, drinking, and talking, but something in this situation was shifting. I could feel it. Not with certainty, just a wolf who'd caught a scent and hadn't found the source. I needed Declan to get here so we could compare notes.
Chapter Twenty-One
Baking is Good, Lies are Bad, Everything is Fine
Declan
I’d messed up, and now I was in a big ol’ pile of oops.
I never should’ve agreed to bake for the poker event. When Rue had approached me, I’d been pleased. A little proud. Optimistic.
Oh, how wrong I’d been.
Besides, who would even want to eat something sweet at a poker tournament? Beer drinkers wanted burgers, fries, and pretzels. Definitely not dessert. Right?
Damn it. I should’ve paid more attention to what Alvin talked about the other night during his food pairing presentation. But, nope, I’d been all caught up in everything else instead. The beer and yoga event hadn’t helped yesterday. I’d slept the afternoon away when I’d gotten back, and that’d cut into my prep time. Actually, this whole week had gotten derailed by murder and mayhem.
A pang shot through my chest.
Okay. That sounded super selfish. I didn’t really mean it like that. Roy hadn’t wanted to be killed. Ivan, Malcolm, and Tessa hadn’t wanted to be hexed. And I could’ve left the murder investigation to Grady, the inquiries into the hexes to Elwood, and making sure the local supes were safe to Gideon.
Except, once again, I was in the middle of things. I wasn’t running around town with a magnifying glass and a deerstalker cap, but I could acknowledge, at least to myself, that I was almost as bad as Eugene when it came to impulsively sticking my nose into other people’s business.
I sighed.
And now I was completely unprepared for the one big commitment I’d made. I hadn’t made nearly enough practice batches. I hadn’t tasted anything alongside beer. And I definitely hadn’t tested enough savory options.
I blew out a breath and closed my eyes. My insides were all jittery. And, contrary to what Gideon might think, that had nothing to do with the four cups of coffee I’d downed since rolling out of bed this morning.
If I messed up tonight, it could haunt me. I’d be out of business before the doors even opened. No one would buy a single cookie from my bakery.
I shook out my arms.
“Get a hold of yourself, Declan. Get your shit together. You promised to bring food, and the longer you stand here panicking, the more time you’re wasting.” I opened my eyes, feeling no more in control than I had before.
A soft coo and a scratch at the window had me spinning around. Licorice tapped at the glass with her beak. Just seeing her made a kernel of calm warm a tiny part of my aching chest. It wasn’t enough to wash all my fears away, but it was better than nothing.
I opened the window.
“Hi, pretty girl,” I said, brushing my finger lightly over her black head. She pressed into my touch. “What’s going on? Why are you here?”
I felt her response come through the new connection we shared, and it was the mental equivalent of an eye roll.
