Page 89 of Hungry As Her Python

I stared at the screen, my gut twisting.

This could be the connection.

Maybe all my so-called “bad luck” wasn’t random after all.

And if that was true, I had a much bigger problem than burned aprons and broken glass display cases.

When Mrs. G finally swept out with Snugglesby in her tote, I turned to Donny and Evie.

“I think we need some advice from the big guns.”

“I think you’re right,” Donny said grimly.

“What’s going on?” Evie asked, holding a towel to her head.

“I’ll explain after. Right now, I think we better set up a Swoosh call from your place, Evie.”

We joined hands, ready to teleport, and for the first time in a long while, I felt steady.

Like the ground under my feet wasn’t just mine—it was ours.

My besties, my cousins, my girls had my back. And I had theirs,

It felt good to know that. And then I felt even better because maybe—just maybe—I was finally ready to let Conrad in. To let him have my back, too.

He wasn’t Jameson Vorhees or any of the other losers who’d made me feel small.

He was patient. He was protective.

And he had literally wrapped himself around me like he was keeping me safe from the whole damn world.

If these critters wanted to burn down my bakery, run amok in Castor’s Corner, well, they were in for a fight.

Because I had magic, my girls, and one very determined smexy Snake Shifter who wasn’t going anywhere.

This was my town, and I was going to do everything I could to defend it.

Chapter Twenty-Six-Bella

Second Swoosh Call

The three of us—me, Donny, and Evie—linked hands over Evie’s office desk, the computer monitor glowed between us, and the faint fizz of magic sparked where our fingers touched.

The air shimmered like heat over asphalt, the scent of espresso and woodsmoke swirling around us as the connection formed.

“La Befana?” Evie’s voice rang out as the magic line solidified.

“It’s Evie Castor from Castor’s Corner.”

Pause.

“Is that you Crafter’s Coven? The picture is grainy. Amber, come fix this thing!” Magdelena, aka La Befana, shouted unnecessarily loudly.

“No, not Crafter’s Coven. CASTOR’S CORNER.”

My lips tightened.

“Okay, there you are! Yeah, yeah, Castor’s Cove—what’s up?”