Page 1 of Magic & Matchmaking (Moonflower Witches)

Chapter One

EMMA

T he baby dragon’s breath smelled like decaying meat and rotten eggs.

I covered my nose with one hand and leaned down, looking into its cavernous mouth.

Its pointy teeth glinted as I scrubbed them with the thistle brush.

I shifted on my stool, the small dragon perched atop a wooden table in the little room filled with shelves of cleaning tonics and a small basin for washing animals.

Its blue scales shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the window.

Sasha was a good dragon, but she hated getting her teeth cleaned, and of course, the job fell to me.

“Almost done,” I gritted out, scrubbing what looked like blood off one of her back molars. She let out a frustrated huff, sparks shooting from her mouth and landing on my arm.

I screeched, and Sasha’s yellow eyes welled with tears.

“Oh, don’t do that.” I retracted the thistle brush from her mouth.“Sasha, you know I hate it when you cry.”

She let out a few pathetic whimpers but quieted down. The sparks had burned through my sleeves, leaving little holes in the dark blue fabric.

I’d have to visit the seamstress later to see if she could patch these. It could’ve been worse. Last time I cleaned Sasha’s teeth, she’d snapped at me, ripping my entire sleeve off. At least it hadn’t been my arm.

“Just one more tooth,” I said, reaching the brush further back.

She hiccuped, and a long stream of fire shot from her mouth as I yelped and ducked under the table.

The door to the room swung open, a familiar set of black boots appearing.

“Sasha, look at you with those sparkly little pearls.” My father strode toward the table, reaching out and petting Sasha, whose wings fluttered in excitement.

He looked down while I crouched under the table.

“Emma? What in the bloody magic are you doing under there?”

I scooched out. “Just... playing a game of peek-a-boo with Sasha.”

He frowned, scratching his head through his thinning grey hair. “Dragons don’t like peek-a-boo. Now fetch? They love a game of fetch. Especially if you’ve got a good arm. You know that. You’re the one who catalogued all the animals’ favorite games to play.”

I smiled weakly, covering the spot where Sasha had burned me.

Father touched his chest, wincing, and I stilled. “Did you take your medicine this morning?”

His thick grey eyebrows drew together as he rubbed at the grey stubble covering his chin. “Erm...”

“Father,” I said with a stern voice. I grabbed his arm and led him to the stool, then reached into the pocket in my apron and pulled out a tiny leaf. I held it up to him, and he grumbled but took it. “Chew,” I instructed.

I carried these leaves around for exactly this purpose. My father somehow mysteriously forgot to take his medicine daily.

He made a face then popped the leaf into his mouth and chewed dutifully. He finished chewing and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Stop acting so pathetic.” I swatted his arm.

Sasha sat on the table, watching us, her spiked tail gently wagging. Well, it looked gentle. I’d been on the receiving end of that tail, and when one of those spikes jammed into your ribs, it hurt.

My father stood and raised his hands to Sasha’s face, scratching behind her ears and saying, “Who’s a good girl? Who’s my good wittle girl? ”

My father loved the animals in his shop.

And he did a lot of good. Arcane Creatures Emporium was his brainchild.

He rescued magical animals without families, or creatures that had been accidentally spelled, then rehabilitated them, trained them, helped them find forever homes.

He matched many witches with their familiars.

If the creatures were a good fit for reintroduction, he always chose to send them back into the wild.

But oftentimes, many of these animals couldn’t return to their homes for a plethora of reasons.

I watched Sasha. She’d been hatched from an egg four months ago.

A witch had decided she wanted a dragon and took the egg from its nest, bringing it home.

Then Sasha was born, and the witch quickly realized dragons were not made to be pets.

Sasha had almost burned her cottage to the ground.

The witch brought Sasha here, and my father was working hard to find her family so he could reintroduce her back to the wild.

She was a normal-sized dragon and would soon grow too big to keep here.

He was also lobbying the Coven Council to make laws punishing those who took wild animals from their homes. It was an arduous process.

“Emma.” My father now sat on the table next to Sasha, his arm around her as she snuggled into him, little puffs of smoke shooting from her nostrils while he stroked her. “Did you get Morty Hallow all set to pick up Herman today?”

My father leaned in closer to Sasha, and I paused. Something was wrong. I squinted at the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He was anxious, but I wasn’t sure what was causing it.

“Emma?” My gaze snapped to meet his. “Herman? Are we all set?”

Maybe I was imagining things. I tended to worry about my father too much. “All set,” I said brightly. “Herman will be going home with his new owner today.”

Thank the Witch Superior. Unlike Sasha, he was a miniature dragon who someone had taken in as a pet, along with his four siblings, then accidentally spelled all of them to talk. It might have been tolerable except Herman never shut up. He had many opinions. About everything.

All his siblings had strong personalities, but Herman seemed to focus his solely on me .

Today, he was finally leaving. Due to his ability to talk, he wouldn’t do well in the wild. He belonged more in the witch world than anywhere else at this point, and we’d found a wonderful witch who wanted to take him in.

Morty Hallow. Owner of Steeped in Love. I looked out the window at the quaint tea shop across the street.

It was one of the most popular establishments in Thistlegrove, everyone raving about Morty’s tea.

I popped in daily to get a cup. My favorite was the strawberry basil tea with a dash of honey and cream.

My mouth watered at the thought of it. It wasn’t just the tea I loved but the cozy ambience.

Every time I stepped inside that shop, it was like a breath of fresh air, the opposite of my father’s busy and hectic magical creature shop where I was constantly managing the animals, customers, schedules, and my father.

My father gazed down at Sasha, who was now on her back as he scratched her belly.

“I’ll just go check on Herman.” Morty would be here any minute. I brushed a stray auburn curl from my forehead and wiped my hands on my apron before leaving the side room and emerging into the bigger portion of the shop.

My soft slippers padded against the gleaming wooden floors as I wove my way through the space, crammed with shelves, cages, every nook and cranny filled with something.

A few of the smaller, more harmless animals roamed around.

A cat that could become invisible brushed past me, and I felt its tail curl around my leg.

I frowned down at the empty space. “Kracken, I’ve told you that if I can’t see you, I’m more likely to step on you. ”

A meow came from ground, and sparks flickered, the brown and white cat appearing.

My father didn’t just match animals with homes. He also created spells for others to use for their pets. Spells for healing, misbehaving, and training. I looked at one of the shelves, cluttered with tonics. I’d need to reorganize soon.

When my father first opened this shop over fifteen years ago, he’d wanted to let all the creatures roam free, but we quickly realized that wasn’t safe for anyone involved.

“You know, I’m getting sick of looking at the same boring shelves everyday,” a pink dragon said from atop one of the shelves .

That would be Herman. so small he could fit in my pocket. He was actually quite adorable—until he opened his mouth. He and his siblings all slept in various places on the tops of different shelves around the shop.

Be nice, be nice, I reminded myself. It wasn’t Herman’s fault that his previous owner cast a spell to make him talk, then realized she couldn’t stand him.

To be fair, he did tell her she had poor taste in clothes and even poorer cooking skills.

He tended to rile up his siblings, and the witch thought it best to surrender all of them.

“Your new owner is coming to pick you up today,” I said with what I hoped was a winning smile.

Herman just looked down at me while a rabbit, one with wings, repeatedly flew against the glass windows in the front of our shop.

Herman sighed heavily. “I told you, that’s glass.” He flew over and lifted a foot, tapping his claws against it. “Stop flying into it!”

“Herman,” I admonished. “It’s not his fault he has wings. He doesn’t know what to do with them.”

Another spell gone wrong. This one cast by a young boy who’d just gotten his first wand and accidentally gave the rabbit wings.

My father was training the rabbit, working with the poor thing daily.

We’d even let him fly with a few of our birds, hoping he might learn from them. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

“Now the real question is when are you leaving?” Herman sent me a pointed look, his big fuchsia eyes trained on me.

Not this again.

“I thought we talked about this.” I swiped some dust off the top of one of the shelves. “I’m not leaving. I work here with my father.”

“Your father who is trained in dealing with magical creatures? Your father who went to the Coven Institute and learned spells and witchcraft related to animals?”

I gritted my teeth.

“Tell me,” Herman went on, “what training do you have?”