Page 2 of A Dash of Wolf

Nannette sniffed. “Thanks, Adeline. I know it’ll help. Your sweets always do.”

“Good luck with Charlie,” Adeline said. “Keep me posted.”

The next fifteen minutes passed in a blur of white paper bags and familiar faces. Adeline tucked a loose strand of red hair behind her ear as she boxed a half-dozen Cocoa-Courage Truffles for a nervous fairy. Then she bagged a pair of Zest-for-Life lemon scones for the witch who ran the candle shop two doors down. Soon after that, she plated a Time-Twirl cinnamon roll for old Mr. Harwick, a vampire who came in every morning at ten-fifteen and ordered the exact same thing.

She’d just finished sliding in a tray of Good-Luck Mango Muffins when the overhead bell chimed, and a harried mother with three young werewolf boys barreled into the bakery. The smallest one immediately locked eyes on Princess Muffin Top and bolted for the counter.

“Kitty!” he cried, his hands raised in the air.

Princess Muffin Top’s ears flattened. “Do not even think about touching me with those sticky, disgusting little hands. I just finished grooming myself. I will bite you, Werewolf Pup, if you come any closer.”

The little boy skidded to a halt, his eyes wide. His two brothers crashed into him from behind, and their mother let out a laugh that had the unmistakable ring of a woman about to have a nervous breakdown.

“Honestly, Princess Muffin Top,” the woman said, “I’ve wanted to say those exact words so many times.” She herded the boys toward a table. “One more week until school starts back up, Adeline. One. More. Week. That’s all I need to survive.”

“Could be worse.” Herschel, an elderly leprechaun in a tweed vest sitting near the window, waved his half-eaten Soother Scone in the air. “You could be old like me and suffering from every kind of pain there is.”

Princess Muffin Top snorted. “Oh, pipe down, Leprechaun. You and I both know you’re still as spry as they come. You just eat those Soother Scones for the sympathy.”

Herschel slapped the table and laughed so hard his eyes watered. “She got me good with that one, Adeline.”

The mother paid for her order, then ushered her boys toward the archway that connected the bakery to the other half of the building where Moonbeam Coffee and Tea was located. “Better go get me an espresso to keep on going. See you, Adeline. Thanks for the treats.”

Adeline smiled and watched them disappear through the wide archway. When Adeline and her best friend, Emory Ashgrove, had bought the building six years ago, they’d decided to knock down the dividing wall so customers could flow between the two rooms effortlessly. Sweets from Adeline, and caffeine from Emory. Between them, they covered most of Moonlight Bay’s daily coping mechanisms.

Herschel pushed himself up from his chair. “I better get going, too. The cobblestones aren’t going to sweep themselves.” He scowled and looked out the window. “Well, they probably could if someone spelled them to.”

Adeline laughed. “You should bring that up at the next council meeting.”

Herschel scoffed and pushed in his chair. “Fat lot of good it would do me.” He tipped an imaginary hat at Princess Muffin Top—who ignored him completely—and shuffled out the door.

Adeline strolled over and wiped down Herschel’s table and glanced through the front window at Tide Street. The cobblestone street was lined with pastel-painted buildings in soft corals, sea glass greens, and buttery yellows. The two-story buildings all had wrought-iron balconies with ivy or ferns trailing over them and window boxes bursting with myriad flowers. Beyond the rooftops, the bay sparkled under the late morning sun, and Adeline could just catch the mast of a shrimp boat rocking at the dock.

Moonlight Bay was a typical seaside town…filled with supernatural tourists in the summer and over the holidays, but relatively quiet during the other months. The turnoff for the town from the coastal highway looked like a rutted marsh road with “Private Property” signs posted everywhere. Human cars with GPSs would glitch. Cell signals would drop. And humans got an overwhelming urge to turn around and go eat at a nearby Waffle House instead. But to anyone with supernatural blood or to Normals—supernaturals born into magical families, but for some reason had no magic themselves—the road cleared at a giant live oak dripping with Spanish moss, and the town suddenly appeared.

At eleven o’clock sharp, Emory Ashgrove came breezing through the archway from Moonbeam Coffee and Tea with to-go cups in her hand, her dark curls bouncing in the high ponytail.

“Hot chai with the cinnamon powder steamed in,” Emory said, handing Adeline a cup.

The two girls had been best friends since before kindergarten. They’d grown up across the street from each other until the tragic death of Adeline’s parents when she was ten. The minute her parents died, Grandmother Lavinia whisked her away from the only home she’d ever known and moved her into the Beaumont Estate. Ripping her not only from Emory, but also Emory’s loving parents and Granny Edna, who at that time was living in the basement of Emory’s parents’ home. Now Granny Edna lived at the assisted-living facility in town.

“You’re an angel,” Adeline said, wrapping her hands around the warm cup.

“I’m a fairy, but I’ll take angel as well,” Emory joked. “So, the protest this afternoon. You ready?”

The marsh on the eastern edge of town was home to a colony of freshwater cephalopods called squish-squids. They were so ugly, they were cute. About the size of a softball, they had bulbous heads, short tentacles, huge bubble eyes, and colors that ranged from neon pink to electric purple to Kermit-frog green. The squish-squids purified the water of magical runoff, which made them ecologically essential to the entire town’s magical ecosystem. And a well-known developer in town wanted to drain part of the marsh to build a new building right where the squish-squids made their home.

And Adeline was not having it!

“Protest signs are in the back,” Adeline said. “Eight protesters have confirmed, and I called Miss Moody at the Moonlight Beacon, so we should get plenty of coverage.” She laughed. “It helps Miss Moody is also driving the protesters to the event.”

Miss Moody, whose real name was Maudette, was the town’s only Uber driver. Her magical 1956 convertible Isetta was a tiny red-and-white, two-seater microcar that grew in length depending on how many people were in the party she picked up. Miss Moody also moonlighted as a part-time reporter for the town’s only paper.

“Let’s hope this time the builder actually listens to us.” Adeline took a sip of her chai and waggled her eyebrows at Emory. “I shaved my legs just in case we get arrested, and I have to be strip searched.”

Emory choked on her chai. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” She scrunched up her nose. “Besides, that darn cot isn’t comfortable in the least. You’d think the town would do something about that.” She finished off the last of her drink before tossing the biodegradable cup into the nearest recycle bin. “Dawnya clocks in at two today, so I’ll come over then, and we’ll head out.”

Dawnya, a mermaid, was a retired school teacher who loved to stay active by working part-time in both Adeline’s and Emory’s shops. Whoever needed her the most on the days she came in, got her.