Page 155 of Magical Mischief

And there she was.

In all her glory, Stella wrapped in one of her infamous velvet shawls, this one a deep eggplant color with tassels with tiny silver charms sewn into them. She was behind the counter, handing a steaming cup of something fragrant to a woman wearing fingerless gloves and a slightly confused expression. Her bright scarlet lipstick was impeccable.

“I’m telling you,” Stella said, “if you steep it longer than seven minutes, it turns into a love potion. And not the kind you want.”

The customer blinked. “Oh?”

“Last one who let it steep too long fell in love with his neighbor’s cat. Ruined the poor woman’s birthday party.”

I snorted as she ate it up.

Stella looked up, saw me, and her whole face lit.

“Maeve Bellemore. If you’re here for a truth serum, you’re too late. I sold the last one to a yoga instructor from Portland who swore she needed to ‘align her psychic branding.’ Whatever that means.”

I scowled. “Did Keegan tell you something?”

“No. Why?” She cocked her head in confusion, and I realized my secret was still safe with him.

I grinned as I walked up to the counter. “You’re in fine form today.”

“Oh, honey. It’s winter tourist season.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You’ve got a dozen people walking around pretending they’re witches, vampires, or fae. They all want enchanted tea, mystical scarves, and hexes on their exes until I tell them the tea only works if they clean their energy and stop dating musicians.”

“Harsh.”

“Necessary,” she said, dramatically flipping a spoon into a teacup with one hand. “They’re lucky I don’t start charging by the eye roll.”

I laughed and pulled off my gloves, fingers still tingling from the cold. The shop smelled like lemon balm and ginger root today, with a hint of toasted almond.

“I have news,” I said, still smiling.

Stella’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Good news?”

I nodded. “TheAcademykind of good.”

That got her attention. She paused, mid-sip of her tea, and tilted her head. “Tell me now or I’ll throw this cup against the wall in protest.”

“I’ll tell you,” I said, slightly lowering my voice. “But I want to tellallof you.”

As if the universe wanted to help me make my point, I glanced out the window just in time to see Keegan heading intothe hotel across the street. He was shrugging off his coat as he passed through the large doors, a curl of wind tugging at his hair.

I nodded toward the window. “Keegan’s just gone into the hotel. What do you say we close shop for a bit and pay him a visit?”

Stella looked around the shop and grabbed a box of cookies. The last few customers had just rounded up their drinks and gone outside.

“I’ve beendyingfor an excuse to close early,” Stella declared. “And this sounds like the best reason since that one time someone spotted a gryphon in the bakery.”

“That turned out to be a very large, angry goose.” I laughed. “Keegan told me all about it.”

“I stand by my story. It was a gryphon.”

Stella and I crossed the street, the cold biting a little more now that the clouds had thickened above the treetops.

Inside, the lobby was quiet and cozy. The fire crackled in the hearth, and Keegan stood at the front desk, flipping through a guest ledger with Ember. He looked up as we stepped in, and his whole face softened.

“You two look like trouble,” he said.

“Only the good kind,” I replied.