Page 41 of A Dash of Wolf

Despite everything, Adeline almost laughed. “Grandmother Lavinia sent Gerald?”

“She did. Your grandmother called Beulah at home and demanded to know the conditions of the holding cell.” Granny Edna’s eyes twinkled. “Your grandmother may have her faults, sweetheart, but she’s not about to let a ninety-seven-year-old witch go hungry and be cold in a jail cell. Not in her town.”

“That’s the most Grandmother Lavinia thing I’ve ever heard,” Princess Muffin Top said from her bed. “What would be even better is if she’d have sent a nail file in the dessert.”

Granny Edna pressed a Werther’s Original into Adeline’s palm and closed her fingers around it. “Now, tell me what’s really wrong. And don’t say it’s Mrs. Abernathy because I can see it in your pastries, child.” She glanced at the weeping croissant Emory had brought with her from the kitchen now sitting on her counter and leaned in closer. “That croissant is openly weeping, dear.”

Laughing shakily, Adeline unwrapped the candy and shoved it into her mouth. The butterscotch dissolved slowly on her tongue. “I think I really liked him, Granny Edna.”

The old fairy’s face softened. “Liked who? Chief Wolfe?”

Adeline nodded. “I told him the truth about Mrs. Abernathy. And he...” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “He told me to go back to my bakery. Like I was just some...some civilian getting in his way.” Tears filled her eyes. “And it hurt to be dismissed by him. Just like it hurts when Grandmother Lavinia does it.” She swiped quickly at the tears before they could fall. “Why am I letting him get to me? He obviously didn’t care about me. Or like me like I liked him, even though he kissed me. Once he thought I’d deceived him, he didn’t listen to reason. He just dismissed me.”

Granny Edna led her to a table near the window. “Let me tell you something about wolves, Adeline. Wolves and gargoyles are alike in that they have this fierce need to protect. When a wolf lets you into his or her life, it’s not casual. It’s not something they do lightly. And with your wolf specifically, I’d say if he feels the trust has been broken—even if it hasn’t—it will take a minute to sort through. Wolves feel everything big. The love is big, the loyalty is big, and the hurt is big.”

“So what do I do?”

“Nothing, today. Today you just let yourself feel what you feel. You let your magic be messy. You eat candy and you sit with your best friend and your loquacious cat, and you don’t try to fix anything.” She patted Adeline’s hand. “Tomorrow, you bake. By then, you should feel better.”

“What if the magic doesn’t come back?”

Granny Edna smiled. “It will. It always does. Your magic isn’t broken, sweetheart. Your heart is just figuring out where to put everything. And hearts are messy. Even kitchen witch’s hearts.” Granny Edna stood, leaned over and hugged her again and pressed another candy into her hand before heading for the door. She paused at the threshold. “One more thing, Adeline.”

“Yes?”

“I saw the way that wolf looks at you.” She smiled. “That’s not a man who’s going to stay distant for long. That’s a man who’s trying to figure out how to say he’s sorry.” She opened the door. “Give him time.”

The door closed behind her, and the bakery was quiet except for the distant clatter of dishes and the occasional laughter from Emory’s side of the building. She went to stand behind the counter and looked at the display cases. Half empty. Everything she’d made yesterday when her magic was working was gone. Now there were just brownies she couldn’t sell. Scones that didn’t soothe. Cinnamon rolls that didn’t trigger memories. She glanced at the croissant that had wept real butter tears on the counter and was now just a sad, soggy lump of pastry.

She picked up the croissant and held it in her palm. “I know just how you feel.”

Princess Muffin Top stretched and sauntered over to her, pressing her warm, furry side against Adeline’s legs. “Granny Edna’s right. Your magic isn’t broken. And neither are you.”

Adeline looked down at her cat. “Since when did you become a motivational speaker?”

“Since you started making brownies that taste like cardboard and crushed dreams. Someone has to intervene.” Princess Muffin Top sniffed. “Now throw that croissant away. It’s embarrassing both of us.”

Adeline laughed. It was small and watery, but it was a genuine laugh. She tossed the croissant in the trash and headed to the archway that separated her store from Emory’s. She had a sudden craving for a hot chai.

18

“This is highly unusual, Chief Wolfe,” Lavinia Beaumont said from behind the long mahogany table where she sat with four other council members. Her cool gray eyes locked onto his, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see she didn’t appreciate surprises. “Emergency sessions are reserved for emergencies.”

“I understand that,” Mason said. “Which is why I won’t take up too much of your time.”

He’d thought about what to do all night. While Mrs. Abernathy slept on the cot in the holding cell with her romance novel on her chest and her slippers tucked neatly beside her, Mason had paced. And thought. And paced some more, and he’d replayed everything.

Not the vandalism part of the case. Not Mrs. Abernathy’s confession. Not even the look on Adeline’s face when he’d told her to go back to her bakery. What he’d replayed was the marsh. The squish-squids glowing beneath the surface. The sound of the water and the night herons and Adeline’s voice when she’d said, “This is why I fight so hard.”

And after all that pacing and all that thinking, he realized she was right. She’d been right from the beginning. And somewhere around three in the morning, sitting in that awful chair with a crick in his neck, he’d made a decision. If Adeline Beaumont was willing to get arrested three times in one week for those creatures, then the least he could do was make sure she never had to get arrested again.

He stood in front of the council now—five members seated behind a table in a large room in City Hall. Lavinia Beaumont sat in the center, flanked by two witches, a vampire, and a werewolf. Ivan Johansson sat behind Mason, his hard hat on his knee and his face already reddening, and the proceedings hadn’t even started. Thaddeus Hillman, moonlighting as the city’s attorney as well, sat in the corner, observing everything going on. Mason had already told Thaddeus what to expect, so the small smile on the attorney’s face wasn’t a surprise. It seemed Thaddeus was going to enjoy the proceedings almost as much as he was.

“I’m here to discuss the construction project at Drury Marsh,” Mason said. “Specifically, the ecological impact of draining any portion of the marsh for development.”

“That project has already been approved,” Councilman Harris, the vampire, said. “The vote was three to two months ago. Mr. Johansson has every legal right to proceed.”

“With all due respect, Councilman, the approval was granted without a full environmental assessment of the magical ecosystem.” Mason opened the folder he’d brought and pulled out a stack of papers. “Drury Marsh is home to a colony of squish-squids. These creatures purify the water of magical runoff...not just for the marsh, but for the entire town’s aquifer. Every magical garden on Lantern Hill, every potion created at Driftwood Apothecary, every enchanted crop sold at the Thursday Night Market—all of it depends on clean magical water. If the squish-squids’ habitat is destroyed, the runoff has nowhere to go. Within a year, the contamination will reach the town’s water supply.” A couple of the council members shifted in their seats. Good. He hoped he was getting through to them.