Page 23

The bell above the door chimed, its melodious tones echoing through the lobby as a man stepped into the West Side Inn. His eyes, sharp and calculating, darted around the space, taking in every detail before settling on Angus's imposing figure behind the front desk.

"Good afternoon," Angus greeted, his voice warm as honey but his eyes keen as a hawk's. "How can I help you today?"

The man approached, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. A smile spread across his face, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm looking for someone who stayed here recently. A woman named Harper O'Neill. Red hair and brown eyes, about five-six? Ring any bells?"

Angus's expression remained as impassive as a stone statue. "I'm afraid I can't disclose any information about our guests, sir. It's against our policy. We take our guests' privacy very seriously here at the West Side Inn."

"Oh, come on," the man pressed, leaning forward slightly. "I'm sure you remember her. She's quite distinctive. Like a fox among hens, if you catch my drift."

"As I said, we don't discuss our guests." Angus's tone hardened slightly, like ice forming on a pond. "That's not negotiable."

The man's smile faltered, cracking at the edges. "Look, it's important that I find her. I'm... an old friend. We go way back, and she disappeared from San Francisco. I've been worried sick about her."

"If you're an old friend, surely you have her contact information," Angus countered, his words as smooth and impenetrable as polished marble.

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted into the lobby, and Renee appeared in the doorway to the lounge, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron. Sensing, the tension crackling in the air, she moved to stand beside her husband, so they presented a united front.

"Is everything alright, Angus?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"This gentleman is looking for information about a guest," Angus explained, his eyes never leaving the man, watching him like a hawk eyeing its prey.

The stranger shifted uncomfortably under their combined gaze, his confidence visibly wilting. "Alright, I'll level with you. I'm an investigative reporter. I'm trying to track down the woman from the Yosemite video. I have reason to believe she stayed here, and this could be the story of the century."

Renee's eyes narrowed, her warm demeanor cooling rapidly. "Even if we had such information, we wouldn't share it with you. Our guests' privacy is paramount. It's not just policy; it's a matter of trust and respect."

"But the public has a right to know-"

"The public has no rights regarding our guests," Angus interrupted firmly, his voice as unyielding as an oak tree. "Now, unless you'd like to book a room and enjoy our hospitality properly - and before you ask, we're full up - I'm going to ask you to leave. Immediately."

The reporter's face flushed with frustration, a crimson tide rising from his neck to his hairline. He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it as he caught the steely glint in Angus's eye. With a huff that sounded like a deflating balloon, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the inn, the door slamming shut behind him.

As the echoes of his departure faded, Renee and Angus exchanged a meaningful look, years of partnership allowing them to communicate volumes without a word.

"I don't think we've seen the last of him," Renee murmured. "He had that look in his eye. Like a dog with a bone."

Angus nodded grimly, his jaw set in determination. "We'll need to warn Harper. And perhaps it's time to strengthen our wards. Just in case."

"At any rate, that man isn't getting back on our property," Renee said with satisfaction, and they exchanged pleased glances.

Harper sat on a weathered park bench, basking in the dappled sunlight filtering through the rustling canopy above. She unwrapped her sandwich, savoring the tranquil atmosphere of her lunch break away from the bank's bustling confines. A slight breeze relieved the heat of the day, and carried the scent of flowers.

Her reverie shattered as her phone buzzed against her thigh, startling her. Renee's name flashed on the screen. Harper's brow furrowed, trying to remember if Renee had ever called her before. A tendril of unease curling in her stomach as she answered, "Hello?"

"Harper, it's Renee." The innkeeper's voice came through, tight with an undercurrent of concern that set Harper's nerves on edge. "I need to alert you to a situation."

As Renee recounted the encounter with the persistent reporter, Harper's appetite vanished like morning mist. Her sandwich lay forgotten on her lap, the once-appetizing meal now as appealing as cardboard. Her free hand clenched into a tight fist, nails digging half-moons into her palm.

"He seemed quite determined," Renee concluded, her words hanging heavy in the air between them. "I thought you should know. We're taking precautions at the inn, but please be on your guard."

Harper's stomach churned, a cold sweat breaking out across her skin and sending a shiver down her spine despite the warm sunlight. "Thank you for telling me," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, throat constricting around the words.

After ending the call, Harper stared blankly at the park around her, unseeing. The once-peaceful scene now felt exposed, vulnerable. Every passerby morphed into a potential threat in her mind's eye, as if the determined reporter might be lurking behind any tree or bush, camera at the ready.

The thought of being thrust into the spotlight made her skin crawl, her fox nature recoiling at the idea of exposure. It wasn't just about being outed as a shapeshifter - that secret had already escaped. It was the scrutiny, the probing questions, the invasion of privacy that would come with being identified as the fox from Yosemite. Her new life suddenly felt fragile.

Harper's mind raced with memories of the chaos after the viral video. She'd fled San Francisco, abandoning everything for refuge in this new community. Now, that sanctuary seemed to be crumbling beneath her feet.

She didn't bother to look at her phone to see if her lunch break was over. She needed to get out of sight. She hurried back to the bank, but even so, each step felt leaden, weighed down by apprehension. The bustling sidewalk seemed to close in around her, every face a potential threat. By the time she reached her office, her heart pounded like a trapped bird in her chest.

Closing the door behind her, Harper leaned against it, eyes shut tight. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves. When she opened her eyes, her gaze fell on her phone, and a decision crystallized.

Jacinth. The djinn's magic might be able to help her. She hated - hated! - having to ask anyone for help, but she felt absolutely shattered at the thought of having her identity revealed.

With trembling fingers, Harper scrolled to find Jacinth's number. As the phone rang, she paced her small office, fighting the urge to shift and bolt for the nearest exit.

"Hello?" Jacinth's cheerful voice answered.

"Jacinth, it's Harper," she whispered, glancing nervously at her closed door as her heart hammered against her ribs. "I need your help. There's a reporter... he's tracking me down. Looking for the fox in those Yosemite videos. I don't know how he managed it, but he knows I'm the fox. Renee called to warn me. He went to the inn, looking for me. " Her voice cracked on the last words, and she wrapped one arm around her middle, her stomach churning.

"What a scumbag!" Jacinth's voice sizzled through the phone, brimming with outrage. Her indignation crackled like static electricity. "Those paparazzi have absolutely zero respect for the concept of privacy, and someone's desire for anonymity."

The vehemence in her voice made Harper flinch, even though the fury wasn't directed at her. She could almost picture the Djinn's dark eyes flashing with indignation, her delicate features contorted in a rare display of wrath. Still, she felt a surge of relief at Jacinth's outrage. She wasn't alone in this.

Harper nodded, even though Jacinth couldn't see her. "I just... I don't know what to do," she admitted, her voice small. "Suddenly everyone is a potential threat, I feel hunted, like I'm some kind of prey animal being stalked. All I want is to burrow away somewhere dark and safe and never come out." She had to take a moment to breathe, her throat tight. "But that's not realistic. I need my job, need to keep going somehow. "

"Don't you worry." Jacinth's tone softened, though the steel of determination remained. "I'll come to your apartment this evening and put up magical wards. And in the meantime, I'll speak with Angus and Renee. We'll come up with a plan of action. This reporter won't know what hit him."

A glimmer of hope sparked in Harper's chest. "Really? You think we can stop him?"

"Oh, honey," Jacinth chuckled, a hint of mischief in her voice. "You have no idea what a determined Djinn can do. Just try to relax for now. We've got your back."

As Harper ended the call, she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. Still, her nerves remained frayed as she navigated through the rest of her workday. The constant fear of exposure gnawed at her, making each passing minute feel like an eternity. When the clock finally struck five, she bolted from the bank, her heart racing as she rushed home.

As she fumbled with her keys at the apartment door, a familiar scent wafted through the air. Harper paused, her fox senses tingling. It wasn't just Jacinth's usual aroma of exotic spices and magic. There was something else... a warm, comforting scent that made her pulse quicken for an entirely different reason.

She pushed open the door to find Jacinth lounging on an armchair in her living room, a mischievous glint in her eyes. But it was the figure on the couch that made Harper's breath catch in her throat. Nathan.

"I hope you don't mind," Jacinth said, her voice light and teasing. "I thought you could use some moral support."

Before Harper could respond, Nathan was on his feet, crossing the room in long strides. He enveloped her in a tight embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her like a protective cocoon. Harper melted into his warmth, burying her face in his chest and inhaling deeply. The tension that had coiled in her muscles all day began to unravel.

"It's going to be okay," Nathan murmured into her hair, his voice a soothing rumble against her cheek.

After a moment, they settled onto the sofa together, Nathan's arm still draped protectively around Harper's shoulders. Jacinth leaned forward, her expression growing serious.

"I'm going to put a spell over your apartment," she explained. "The best way to describe it is a 'look-away' spell. Even if that nosy reporter sees this place, he won't recognize it as yours."

Harper's brow furrowed in confusion. "But how does that work exactly? He'd still see my apartment number on the door, wouldn't he?" She chewed her lower lip, struggling to grasp the concept of magical concealment.

Nathan nodded, his expression mirroring Harper's bewilderment. He ran a hand through his tousled sandy hair, brow creasing as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea. "Yeah, I'm with Harper on this one. How would that actually help in keeping her place hidden?"

A slow, impish grin spread across Jacinth's face, her mahogany eyes twinkling with barely contained mirth. The petite Djinn leaned forward, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. "Oh, he might see the number, alright," she drawled, her voice laced with amusement, "but he won't recognize it as the one he's looking for. It's a bit like... a magical sleight of hand. Trust me, darlings. This spell has fooled far craftier beings than a nosy reporter."

Harper blinked, and she glanced at Nathan, seeing her own bewilderment mirrored in his warm brown eyes.

Nathan looked curious as curious as she felt. "How does it work exactly?"

"Well, it's quite clever, if I do say so myself." Jacinth's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "The spell is specifically tailored to that nosy reporter. You see, he gave his business card to Angus at the inn. I stopped by earlier to pick it up."

Nathan's brow furrowed slightly. "How does a business card help?"

"That's the beauty of it," Jacinth explained, her eyes twinkling. "The card carries a trace of his personal essence. I've tied the spell directly to that. He won't be able to recognize this place as Harper's, even if he's standing in front of the door staring right at it."

Harper felt a wave of relief wash over her. But then a new worry surfaced, and she turned to Nathan in concern.

Jacinth, ever perceptive, caught the unspoken worry. "Actually, Nathan, I was hoping you'd allow me to cast the same spell on your house. Just to be safe."

Nathan's expression turned shocked as understanding dawned, and he jerked straight up from his lounging position. Harper observed his features grow ashen, as the gravity of the situation hit him.

"Jill," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Exactly," Jacinth said softly. "We can't risk anyone stumbling across her."

Without hesitation, Nathan locked eyes with Jacinth. "Do it," he said firmly. "Whatever you need to do to protect both Harper and Jill, do it."

The Djinn's eyes sparkled with determination as she spoke, her voice filled with confidence. "I've already contacted Jake. Since he works security at Carter's Bank, he's in the perfect position to help."

Harper's brow furrowed slightly. "How can Jake help?"

Jacinth's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I gave him the reporter's name. Jake will be able to get a picture of him from the internet, and pass it along to the bank's security staff. They'll make sure that nosy fellow doesn't set foot inside the building."

Nathan nodded approvingly, his arm tightening slightly around Harper's shoulders. "That's smart thinking," he said.

"There's one more thing," Jacinth added, her gaze fixed on Harper. "You should inform Lydia as soon as you get to work in the morning. As the bank manager, she needs to be aware of the situation."

"I didn't think of that," Harper confessed. "Of course she needs to know, in case he attempts to contact me at the bank. I'll talk to her first thing tomorrow."

Jacinth nodded decisively. "Excellent. Between the magical protection, Jake's help, and Lydia being informed, there's no way he'll be able to get near you."

Nathan pulled Harper closer, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She melted against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her cheek. His calming energy washed over her, soothing the panic that had been threatening to overwhelm her all day.

"It's going to be okay," Nathan murmured, his breath tickling her hair. "We're all here for you."

Despite the comfort of Nathan's embrace, a nagging worry gnawed at Harper's mind. She pulled back slightly, her amber eyes filled with concern as she looked at Jacinth.

"But what about the information he already has?" Harper asked, her voice trembling. "He could still publish that, couldn't he? And pictures of me, maybe from a distance or something..."

Jacinth leaned forward, her expression serious but reassuring. Her dark eyes locked onto Harper's, conveying a depth of understanding that only centuries of magical experience could provide.

"The look-away spell isn't just on your apartment, Harper. It's on you, too. It's woven into the very essence of your being, like an invisible cloak of protection." She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "Even if that reporter were standing right in front of you, talking to you, he wouldn't recognize you as the person he's looking for. His eyes would slide past you, his mind unable to connect the dots. The magic ensures your safety in ways you can't even imagine."

Relief flooded through Harper, but it was short-lived as another thought struck her. "But what about publishing what he already has?"

Jacinth's brow furrowed slightly. "That... is a bit trickier," she admitted. "We do have some time, though. From what I understand, he's determined to confront you and get an interview if he can. Assuming he'll hold off until he realizes that won't happen, that gives us a window to work with."

The Djinn's expression softened as she looked at them. "I'll consult with Angus and Renee, and perhaps even an elder Djinn. We'll see if there's anything we can do to prevent him from publishing anything about you."

Jacinth reached out, placing a comforting hand on Harper's knee. "I can't promise we'll be able to stop him completely, but I swear to you, I'll do everything in my power to try."

Harper nodded, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and lingering anxiety. She leaned back into Nathan's embrace, drawing strength from his presence and the unwavering support of her friends.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Thank you so much, Jacinth."

Jacinth rose gracefully from her seat, her dark eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and determination. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it," she said, her voice light and teasing. "Remember, Harper, you're protected now. Try to relax and enjoy your evening."

As the door closed behind Jacinth, Nathan turned to Harper, his expression soft and understanding. "I'd love to invite you over for dinner at my place, but I know your fox probably needs her den right now." He ran a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture Harper was quickly coming to find endearing. "How about I whip something up here instead?"

Harper felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. "That sounds perfect," she agreed, her voice warm with appreciation. "Thank you for understanding."

They moved to the kitchen, Harper perching on a stool at the counter while Nathan began rummaging through her fridge and cupboards. As he started preparing their meal, he regaled her with some amusing stories from the music conservatory.

As Nathan continued with more funny anecdotes, she felt the tension of the day melting away, replaced by warmth and contentment. Everything was going to be all right. She had to believe that.

Nathan finished plating their dinner, a simple but hearty pasta dish he'd whipped up from Harper's pantry staples. As they settled at the small dining table, he watched her take her first bite, pleased to see some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"This is delicious," Harper said, her amber eyes lighting up with appreciation.

Nathan smiled, relieved to see her mood lifting. "I'm glad you like it. Say, how about we watch a movie after dinner? Might help keep your mind off things for a while."

"That sounds perfect, actually," she murmured, her voice tinged with relief. She tucked a strand of foxy-red hair behind her ear. "What did you have in mind? Something lighthearted, I hope?"

"Well," Nathan said with a tilt of his head, his expression considering, "how about 'Fiddler on the Roof'? It's a classic."

Harper's fork froze halfway to her mouth. She stared at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Are you serious? You actually like musicals?"

Nathan blinked, caught off guard by her reaction. "Of course. My parents raised me on them. Why, is that strange?"

A giggle escaped Harper's lips, quickly turning into full-blown laughter. "Oh my God," she managed between gasps, "you're a unicorn!"

Now thoroughly confused, Nathan tilted his head. "A... unicorn?"

Harper's laughter subsided into hiccups as she tried to explain. "I just... I can't believe I snagged myself a guy who likes musicals!" Her eyes sparkled with mirth and something that looked suspiciously like adoration.

Nathan chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I'm glad my taste in entertainment amuses you so much."

As they finished their meal, still trading playful jabs about Nathan's musical preferences, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected turn of events. The worry that had clouded Harper's face earlier had all but disappeared, replaced by a lightness that made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

Once the dishes were cleared, they settled onto Harper's couch, Nathan's arm naturally finding its way around her shoulders. As the opening notes of "Tradition" filled the room, he felt Harper snuggle closer, her warmth a comforting presence against his side.

As the movie progressed, Harper found herself drawn into the world of Anatevka. The characters' struggles and joys resonated deeply, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. When Tevye found out his daughter Chava had married the Russian soldier, Harper's eyes welled up. She tried to blink away the tears, but they spilled over, running down her cheeks. Nathan glanced at her, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, pausing the movie.

Harper nodded, sniffling. "I'm fine, it's just... " She burst into sobs again.

Nathan chuckled, and stood up. "Hold on a sec," he said, heading to the hall closet. He returned moments later with a box of Puffs.

Grinning, he handed her a couple. "I'm glad I helped you unpack the house. Knew right where to find these."

Harper took the tissues gratefully, dabbing at her eyes and cheeks. Despite her efforts, she couldn't stop the sobs that shook her body. "It's so sad," she managed between hiccups. "He's in so much pain from his daughter marrying the Russian, and Chava is in so much pain because she loves that man, but she also loves her father and her family, and he has cut her off. She had to choose, and he had to choose, and they both hurt so bad."

Nathan's grin softened. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. "Come here," he murmured, pressing play on the remote. As the movie continued, Harper found herself swept up in the emotions once more. By the time Tevye told Chava to "go with God," at the end, she was sobbing again.

Even after the credits rolled, Harper couldn't seem to stop crying. Nathan held her close, gently stroking her hair. His amusement was evident in the quirk of his lips, but his touch remained tender and comforting.

"You okay there?" he asked softly, his fingers running through her foxy-red locks.

Harper nodded against his chest, her tears slowly subsiding. "Yeah," she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse. "It was just... beautiful."

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle as Harper's sobs finally began to subside. He pulled back slightly, his warm brown eyes twinkling with amusement as he gazed down at her tear-stained face.

"You know," he said, his voice light and teasing, "I picked a musical hoping to cheer you up, not traumatize you even more."

Harper blinked up at him, her amber eyes still watery. For a moment, she stared at him in disbelief. Then, a small giggle escaped her lips, quickly growing into full-blown laughter. She buried her face in his chest, her body shaking with mirth instead of sobs.

"Oh God," she gasped between fits of laughter. "I'm such a mess."

Nathan grinned, his fingers gently combing through her foxy-red hair. "A beautiful mess," he murmured.

Harper lifted her head, meeting his gaze. The laughter faded from her eyes, replaced by something softer, more intense. Nathan felt his breath catch in his throat as she leaned in, her lips meeting his in a sweet, tender kiss.

When they parted, Nathan found himself lost in the warmth of her amber eyes. His heart raced, and he knew with sudden clarity that he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Harper," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I... I'm in love with you."

Harper smiled, feeling a warmth spreading through her chest. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she raised her hand to touch Nathan's cheek. The stubble beneath her fingertips sent a pleasant tingle through her palm.

"I love you too, Nathan," she whispered, her amber eyes shimmering with emotion.

For a moment, they sat in silence, basking in the glow of their shared confession. Harper's heart raced, her fox nature singing with joy at the rightness of this moment. Reyna, her inner fox, practically purred with contentment. " Mate " she murmured.

Nathan leaned into her touch, his milk chocolate brown eyes never leaving hers. He brought his hand up to cover hers, intertwining their fingers against his cheek.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to say that," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection.

Harper's smile widened, her earlier tears forgotten. "I think I might have some idea," she replied, her voice equally soft.

Nathan chuckled, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down Harper's spine. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. Their breaths mingled, and Harper felt as if her heart might burst from the sheer happiness of this moment.

"So," Nathan said, a playful glint in his eyes, "does this mean I get to call you my girlfriend now?"

Harper laughed, the sound light and carefree. "I think that ship has sailed, Mr. Musical Lover. You're stuck with me now."

Nathan's response was to pull her closer, capturing her lips in a kiss that made Harper's toes curl. The warmth of Nathan's embrace enveloped her, and she breathed in his familiar scent - a mixture of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

Nathan stirred, his gaze drifting to the clock on Harper's wall. The late hour registered, and he realized with a start that he should probably head home. He reluctantly pulled away from Harper's warmth, already missing the feel of her in his arms.

"It's getting late," he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. "I should probably go."

Harper's amber eyes widened, a flicker of disappointment crossing her delicate features. She bit her lower lip, a nervous habit she'd never quite outgrown, as a rosy blush crept up her freckled cheeks. Her heart raced, pounding against her chest as she gathered her courage. The words she longed to say danced on the tip of her tongue, threatening to retreat at any moment.

"Nathan," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling with a mixture of hope and vulnerability. She swallowed hard, her gaze locked onto his warm brown eyes. "Would you... would you stay?" The question hung in the air between them, laden with unspoken meaning and the promise of something more.

Nathan's heart skipped a beat, then raced to catch up. He searched Harper's face intently, his gaze tracing the scattered freckles across her cheeks, wanting to be sure he understood her meaning. A spark of hope ignited in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

"Are you sure?" he asked gently, trying to tamp down his own desire. This had to be what she wanted, no matter how much he desired her. His fingers twitched at his sides, longing to reach out and touch her, to anchor this moment in reality.

Harper's blush deepened, spreading to the tips of her ears. She nodded, her gaze steady despite the wild color in her cheeks. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm sure."

Nathan's breath caught in his throat, his heart thundering against his ribs. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheekbones, marveling at the softness of her skin. The scattered freckles beneath his fingertips seemed to dance in the dim light. "Harper," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and longing.

As their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of their embrace and the promise of the night ahead.