Page 1 of Misbehaving With Minotaurs (Haven Ever After #8)

CHAPTER ONE

CATHERINE

“ A nnabelle,” I admonish as the black cat kitchen timer swivels on its base and meows at me.

The countertop ripples, slinging the salt shaker toward the pan of vegetables I just started sautéing. Rolling my eyes upward, I chuckle as the inn’s ceiling tiles pop playfully, clacking like piano keys.

“No more salt.” I grab the shaker and shove it in the cabinet above the stove. “Guests can add it as needed, but there’s no need for us to go salt crazy.”

The timer spins to face away from me as the ceiling tiles still, the kitchen going utterly silent except for the sound of the vegetables in the pan.

“Don’t be irritated, my love.” Reaching out, I rub the tiles behind the stovetop.

One of the kitchen windows opens and slams angrily shut.

Sighing, I open the cabinet, withdraw the salt, and toss a dash on the vegetables.

For whatever reason, my home has a very strong preference on salt content, and this is not the hill I want to die on today. Last time I disagreed with her about salting the breakfast foods, she locked my bedroom door for twenty minutes until I apologized profusely.

It’s funny what topics Annabelle feels strongly about. She and I are usually in lock step about everything , but occasionally she surprises me in her vehement preferences.

The salt, for instance.

And her refusal to let me touch up the white paint on her shutters even though it’s chipping.

The tiny cat timer executes a darling series of flips along the countertop, leaping onto the back of the stove, its kitty features curling into a smile.

We fall into an easy silence as I finish the vegetables for the breakfast buffet. All of our rooms are full but one, and I’m expecting a guest any mo?—

The ding of a bell echoes down the hallway, interrupting my thoughts. Annabelle ripples the backsplash tile to warn me that there’s someone up front. I laugh and stroke the tile again.

“Thank you, my darling.”

The cat timer meows as the front bell dings a second time.

Leaving the kitchen, I hurry along the skinny hallway to find a handsome young pixie male standing in the inn’s front entryway.

He holds a suitcase in one hand, a long garment draped over his other forearm.

Translucent blue wings flutter lightly at his back, the tips of his pointed ears twitching slightly.

“Welcome to the Annabelle Inn.” I slide behind the tall wooden check-in desk and smile. “You must be Gilbert Sintjan?”

His blue lips pull into a half smile. “That’s me. I presume you’re Catherine, the Annabelle Inn’s famous proprietress?”

I laugh. “I do believe you made up that word, Gilbert, but, yes, that’s me.”

The edges of his lips turn down. “You don’t happen to still have breakfast available, do you? I had heard the Galloping Green Bean diner makes a to-die-for burger, and I was actually going to have that for breakfast, but they were quite busy. ”

When I give him a surprised look, he laughs.

“I know, it’s odd. I don’t like breakfast food. But anyhow, the line was out the door, and the very terse centaur hostess told me in no uncertain terms that it would be at least two hours before she could seat me.”

I sigh, shooting him an understanding look. “Alba is direct on the best of days, but you’re right that the burger is absolutely fantastic there. You’re in luck, though; I was just about to replenish the breakfast buffet. It runs from eight to ten a.m. each morning except on the weekends.”

He winks. “You don’t happen to have burgers, do you?”

We laugh together as I shake my head. “No burgers, but I was just sautéing vegetables, and there’s plenty of variety. I’m so busy these days, it’s easier to justify a wide selection of offerings.” I return his wink. “And don’t worry, it’s not all traditional breakfast food.”

I take Gilbert’s credit card and hand him a key for his room—the mermaid-themed room upstairs. We head for the second floor, where I drop him off at his door and offer to give him a tour of Ever at any point, if he’d like one.

Remembering the vegetables, I rush back to the kitchen. The pan swirls slowly on the stove, the veggies sizzling and snapping.

“Thank you, Annabelle.” I grab the pan and toss the perfectly cooked veggies in a bowl.

The black cat timer turns to watch me as I carry the bowl through a small butler’s pantry and into the formal dining room.

My guests are beginning to arrive, and I greet each monster, answering a few questions as they begin to dig into the buffet.

The breakfast hours are a blur while I constantly refill the buffet and clean up as my guests make a bit of a mess. It’s not until the last guest leaves that I return to the kitchen and sit at the island for a moment.

Around me, the Annabelle feels happy. I sense her the way I always have—she’s like a warm hug, constantly there, a friend by my side.

I’ve often wondered if this is how shifter mate bonds feel, that innate and deep sense of knowing about another being.

Because I swear I can think something, and Annabelle seems to know.

I glance up at the beautiful coffered ceiling. “I’m headed to a meeting with town leadership, darling. Arkan thinks it’s time to expand Downtown Ever. Most of the businesses are stretched past capacity, as are we. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Annabelle groans her assent, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet.

I rise and go to the fridge, grabbing a filtered water bottle. “I suppose we’d have to expand into the rose garden because I don’t really want to stack a bunch more stories on top of you.”

Around me, she stills. The only sound is the steady tick-tock of the wall clock.

I look around the kitchen while Annabelle thinks.

We’d need to bump out this space to give it more industrial size, and we’d cut into the rose garden a bit.

But it’s an easy enough fix. Now, if we wanted more rooms, we’d have to add on another story, because there’s not enough space in my backyard to expand that way.

Although, to be honest, I’m already a bit busier than I’d like to be.

If anything, I want fewer rooms, not more.

Just last night, I was sitting in the front living room reading when a stream of guests came in asking for help with various things.

I never did get back to my book after taking care of them.

Silence is a blessed gift these days, and I find myself craving it more and more.

Considering room expansion makes my nose scrunch in dismay.

The cat timer hops around the back of the stove and to the far end of the countertop.

Scrunching down, it executes a leap onto the window ledge, spinning to face the backyard rose garden.

Like always, it’s a perfect sixty-five degrees outside—a weather pattern I chose when I helped design Ever all those centuries ago—and the rose bushes sway gently, their blooms beautifully vibrant year-round.

The timer spins slowly to face me as the window behind it opens, allowing the breeze in.

It brushes over my face, rustling pale gray waves over my eyes.

Shoving my hair out of the way, I stare at the gorgeous rose garden behind the inn, musing about what it would be like to finally grow the Annabelle Inn… and if I even want that.

Realistically, Annabelle might be my heart building and best friend, but she was always meant to be my retirement hobby.

It’s turned into nights and weekends and the need for a helper I just can’t bring myself to hire.

It’s never felt right to add another monster to our mix, but as two separate guests appear in the kitchen doorway, I consider that it might be time now.

Smiling broadly, I greet them.

No rest for the weary.

“ S o, thrall attacks and warlocks and revenants don’t seem to be deterring anyone from moving to Ever. Have you all noticed?”

Town Hall clacks her ceiling tiles in agreement with Ever’s Keeper, Arkan.

The big centaur crosses his muscular arms over his chest as he swishes his tail lazily against his black-coated sides.

He looks around at us with glittering blue eyes.

The rest of us are seated, but the handsome young centaur prefers to remain standing during haven leadership meetings.

He walks circles around our table sometimes, and it’s very distracting to me, but he’s an excellent Keeper.

Much like a human mayor, if monsters had such a thing.

Alo Rygold, one of two gargoyles from the town’s protector team, leans back with a wry look on his handsome, angular features.

“Hopefully, Ever’s many charms are the main draw?

Although, to be honest, having a blue witch living in town is probably pulling monsters here too.

There’s not a single other blue witch living within the haven system, and Lou is so damn strong.

Ever’s gotta be the safest possible place in the entire world for a monster to live at this point. ”

Arkan nods, making eye contact with each of us in turn. I’d almost laugh at how focused he is—young people can be so intense—but we need that excitement.

“Since the opening of the Grand Portal Station at Hearth HQ haven, we’re drawing in an average of twenty new residents per month.

The wraith motel and Annabelle Inn are constantly full.

Homes keep popping up to accommodate the new Evertons.

I’ve got five requests to call humans here from the outside world via the town map.

And our businesses are…well…” He glances at Ohken Stonesmith, the troll owner of our singular general store and Fleur, the flower shop.

“Ohken, you’re busy. Too busy. Tell me I’m wrong. ”