Page 13 of Chasing Stripes (Enchanted Falls #3)
THIRTEEN
A rtemis swallowed hard, attempting to regain her composure. “It was nothing. Just residual magic from the baking mishap.”
“Honey,” Tilly fixed her with a knowing look, “I’ve been half-fae for over sixty years. I know magical residue when I see it, and I know something else entirely when I see it. That man left a magical imprint on you.” She pointed to Artemis’s waist where the golden handprints still glowed faintly. “And you liked it.”
Heat crawled up Artemis’s neck. “I didn’t?—”
“Your pupils dilated, your breathing quickened, and the temperature in this room rose about ten degrees when he touched you,” Tilly continued mercilessly. “Plus, you’re still staring at the door he left through.”
Artemis snapped her gaze away from the back door, mortified to realize her aunt was right. “Okay, fine. He’s attractive. In an intimidating, alpha-tiger way. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Mm-hmm.” Tilly’s expression radiated skepticism. “And I suppose the lights flickering and the magical handprints don’t mean anything either?” She began picking up scattered utensils, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “You know, your mother’s cousin once dated a wolf shifter. Shocking the family seems to be a Blu tradition.”
“Can we please focus on cleaning up this mess?” Artemis begged, gesturing to the flour-coated kitchen. “We open in an hour, and I still need to make something to sell.”
“Fine, fine,” Tilly conceded. “But this conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
By mid-morning, Honeycrisp Bakery hummed with activity. Artemis had managed to salvage enough of her experimental batter to produce a small batch of joy-infused muffins, though she’d reduced the fae pollen to a mere dusting. The kitchen still bore evidence of the magical mishap—a fine coating of flour in hard-to-reach corners—but customers seemed not to notice.
Or perhaps they were too distracted by Meredith Oakhart’s sudden singing ability.
“Another cuppppp of coffeeeeee , pleeeease ,” Meredith trilled, her ordinary request transformed into an operatic aria. The elderly fox shifter looked as surprised as anyone by her melodious voice.
“So sorry about that, Mrs. Oakhart.” Artemis handed over a steaming mug. “Side effect of the new muffins. Should wear off in an hour or so.”
“Don’t apologiiiize ,” Meredith sang back, beaming. “My husband always said I should have been a singerrrrr ! He’ll be thriiiiilled when I get hooooome !”
She floated away to a corner table, humming contentedly. The other customers watched with undisguised amusement, several eyeing the remaining muffins with newfound interest.
The bell above the door chimed. Artemis looked up, her heart performing a ridiculous little skip before she could control it. But instead of Bartek’s imposing frame, Kalyna sauntered in, her fox-red hair gleaming in the sunlight. She wore a vintage-inspired emerald dress that emphasized her petite figure, looking every inch the dignified librarian, shop owner, and mayor’s mate.
Until she opened her mouth.
“Holy fox fire, what happened in here?” Kalyna exclaimed, sniffing the air dramatically. “It smells like magic had a fistfight with a flour sack!” Her eyes flashed amber with excitement.
“Volume, Kalyna,” Artemis hissed, glancing at the curious customers.
“Sorry,” Kalyna stage-whispered, sidling up to the counter. Her gaze darted around, taking in every detail with fox-like acuity. “Magical mishap? Or did you decide to redecorate with the fashionable ‘explosion chic’ look I’ve heard so much about?”
Artemis stifled a laugh despite herself. She’d missed Kalyna’s particular brand of snark during her years away. “Small accident with some experimental muffins. Nothing major.”
Kalyna leaned forward, inhaling deeply. Her eyes widened, then narrowed suspiciously. “You’re not telling me everything, Artemis Blu.” She lowered her voice to a genuine whisper. “Why do you smell like tiger? And not just any tiger—that’s definitely eau de Bartek Arbor clinging to you.”
Heat bloomed across Artemis’s cheeks. She busied herself making Kalyna’s usual tea—Earl Grey with honey. “No idea what you mean.”
“Please,” Kalyna scoffed. “My nose might not match a tiger’s, but I recognize cedar and alpha musk anywhere. Perks of being mated to the mayor—I meet all the important newcomers.” She leaned closer, voice dropping further. “Spill. Now. Or I’ll start asking very loud, very embarrassing questions in front of your entire customer base.”
Artemis sighed, knowing resistance was futile. Kalyna could out-stubborn a mountain when it came to gossip. “Fine. There was a... minor explosion with my experimental batter. He heard it somehow and came rushing in like the kitchen was on fire.”
“How gallant,” Kalyna purred, her fox nature showing through. “And then?”
“And then nothing. He helped me stabilize the magic, got covered in flour for his trouble, and left.” Artemis deliberately omitted the part about the electrifying touch and glowing handprints. Some things were too strange—and too personal—to share, even with her oldest friend.
But Kalyna’s sharp eyes caught the slight shift in Artemis’s stance, the way she unconsciously touched her waist where Bartek’s hands had been. “Liar,” she accused without heat. “Something happened. The air around you is practically crackling with energy, and you keep touching your waist like it’s sunburned.”
Artemis froze, caught. “It’s not?—”
“Look.” Kalyna pointed to the overhead lights, which dimmed momentarily before brightening again. “That’s been happening since I walked in. Every time you think about him too hard, I’m guessing.”
As if to prove her point, the lights flickered again.
“That’s... that’s probably just old wiring,” Artemis stammered, though she knew better. Magic responded to emotion, and something about her encounter with Bartek had left her magic unusually reactive.
“Sure, blame the wiring.” Kalyna sipped her tea, smirking over the rim. “And I suppose it’s also the wiring that left that handprint glowing on your waist?”
Artemis glanced down in alarm. Through her flour-dusted apron, the golden outline of Bartek’s hands still shimmered faintly. She tugged her apron to cover it better, but the damage was done.
“It’s nothing.”
“Uh-huh,” Kalyna rolled her eyes. “And I’m a hairless cat.” She placed her teacup down with deliberate care. “Artemis Blu, I’ve known you since we were children catching fireflies behind the school. I’ve seen you enchanted, heartbroken, and everything in between. But I’ve never seen you like this.”