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“Right. Okay, well a Creature is someone like me—a sentient, non-human, magical being,” he explained. “And believe it or not, I’m probably not the first Creature you’ve ever met.”

“I think I’d remember it if I met someone like you,” I said dryly.

“Not if they were in disguise,” he pointed out.

“There are plenty of Creatures in the human world. Lots of accountants are gnomes—they’re good with numbers and finance.

And plenty of movie stars and celebrities are fairies—they don’t have to use much of a disguise, actually—except to hide their wings.

They’re all so pretty that being in the spotlight comes naturally to them. ”

“Wow—really?” I looked at him in surprise. “That’s amazing!”

He shrugged.

“Not really. Creatures have always walked among humans—it’s just that we’re careful to keep you from seeing us.

” He frowned. “Some of them really take advantage, though. Most of the billionaires and CEOs of big corporations are Dragons—their greed for wealth and power can’t be contained to the Creature world. ”

“Are you saying Elon Musk is a Creature?” I asked, staring up at him.

He nodded.

“And Jeff Bezos, and Mark Zuckerberg…I could go on, but they’re all fucking bastards, so I won’t bother.”

“Wow,” I murmured again. “Do you ever go to the human world?” I asked him.

He frowned.

“I’ve been once or twice, but I’m allergic to the disguise magic—gives me a rash. So I mostly hang around here. I’ve got a good business going and with Hidden Hollow growing like it is, I don’t need to go out in the human world to get any more customers.”

“What do you do?” I asked. But just then Goldie reappeared with our cinnamon rolls. Once again, she had two different sized plates—a normal one for me and a huge platter sized one for Rath.

I stared at the size of the cinnamon roll she put in front of him. Mine was big enough to fill my whole plate, but his was massive— bigger than my whole head!

“Enjoy!” she remarked, producing some forks and handing them to us. Then she hurried away to meet some other customers who had just come in the door.

“Mmm, looks delicious,” Rath rumbled. He picked up his fork and began cutting a piece. “To answer your question, I do most of the tech work here in town. I troubleshoot computer problems, install Wi-Fi—that kind of thing.”

“Oh, I need Wi-Fi at my house—at my Grandma’s house, I mean,” I said. I took a bite of the cinnamon roll and nearly moaned. “Oh my God, this is so good!”

“Yeah, they make them fresh every morning,” he said. “Though I think Celia at The Lost Lamb is getting kind of overwhelmed with all the new business. More and more witches and magic users and Creatures are settling down here—the human world is getting to be too much for them.”

“It’s definitely too much,” I murmured, thinking of the upcoming election and the general mess the whole world seemed to be in. “Can I get you to install Wi-Fi in my Grandma’s house?” I added, getting back to his job. “I need it because I work remote.”

He frowned.

“I’m afraid not. Your grandma didn’t want Wi-Fi installed—she said it interfered with her communication with your Grandfather.”

“What?” I shook my head. “What do you mean? I remember my Grandma—I mean, now that I’m here , I do. But I don’t have any memories of my Grandfather at all.”

Rath looked thoughtful.

“I think he probably died before you were born. I know he died before the house was built because your Grandma told me she planted his bones in the foundation so she could keep in contact with him.”

“Wait… what?” I put down my fork. “Are you telling me my Grandma buried her dead husband under her house?”

Rath shrugged.

“It’s not uncommon among witches to bury a loved one in the foundation of a house. That way as you build the house, the spirit of the one you lost grows to inhabit it. So you never really lose contact with them.”

I thought back to the family tree I’d seen in the beginning of my Grandma’s Grimoire.

“That must be why she named the house after him,” I murmured. “She called it ‘Morris’ in her will.”

“She didn’t just name the house after him—the house is him,” Rath corrected me. “As much as possible, anyway.”

“Wait…so you’re saying I’m living inside my Grandfather?” I stopped eating my cinnamon roll again—the idea was deeply creepy. “I mean, can he see me all the time? What about when I’m taking a bath?”

“No, no—it’s not like that!” Rath hastened to assure me. “Morris is only semi-sentient—he’s a part of your Grandfather—the part that loved and cherished your Grandmother and your family. He’s not spying on you or anything—it’s more like he’s watching over you… protecting you.”

“The same way you’ve been watching over him —I mean protecting the house—since my Grandma, er, faded?” I asked.

Rath nodded.

“She asked me before she faded to keep an eye on the house. I think she knew that eventually you would be drawn back to Hidden Hollow—your family roots go deep in the magical community here. I think one of your ancestors was one of the founders of the town.”

“Well, thank you for protecting the house and keeping it up all this time, until I could get here,” I said. “Even if you did scare the life out of me before you knew who I was.” I shook my head. “You can be really scary when you want to be.”

He nodded gravely.

“Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just very protective of the people and things I care about and I cared about your Grandma a lot. The house is part of her in a way…and you’re part of her legacy too. So don’t be offended, but I’ll probably be watching out for you—at least until you find your magic.”

“I’m not offended,” I said and felt my cheeks getting hot for some reason. “I…I think it’s nice to have someone watching over me. I’ve been on my own since my Mom died and it’s been really lonely. I mean, not like you have to keep me company or anything,” I said quickly. “I just meant?—”

“I’d love to keep you company, Sarah.” Rath’s voice was a low, interested rumble and his golden eyes were suddenly half-lidded as he looked across the table at me.

“Oh, um…” I felt myself blushing even harder.

Guys hardly ever flirted with me. Mostly because I’m plus-sized, I think but also because if they ever even tried, I found it impossible to say a single word in return.

With Rath, my words flowed like water instead of freezing in my throat like ice cubes that wouldn’t melt. I thought again of the warm, sexual tingle I’d felt when I shook his hand.

“Hey—did I embarrass you?” he murmured.

I looked up to meet his eyes and tried to get control of myself.

“No, not really,” I lied. “It’s just…I’m not used to talking to guys—that’s all. I’m not used to talking to anyone , really,” I added.

“Right—because of your condition. Your, uh…”

“Selective Mutisim,” I supplied.

“Which makes you unable to talk to most people?” he asked, clearly trying to understand.

“It makes me unable to talk to anyone,” I admitted. “You’re the first person I’ve been able to really talk to since my Mom died two years ago. I mean, other than my cat, but Sebastian can’t exactly talk back, you know?”

Then I bit my lip—there I went, over-sharing again. How pathetic could I be? The minute I found someone I could talk to, I spilled my saddest secrets in his lap!

“I shouldn’t have told you that,” I said, using my fork to push the remains of my cinnamon roll around my plate.

“Why not?” He frowned in honest confusion. “Look, I’m glad you’re able to talk to me. And kind of surprised too, considering how we met,” he added.

“It surprises me too,” I admitted. I was relieved he didn’t seem to think I was some lonely, pathetic spinster who couldn’t talk to anyone but her cat.

“Usually whenever I’m around someone I don’t know, my words all get stuck in my throat—right here.

” I put my fingers to my throat. “And they just won’t come out. ”

“So what causes Selective Mutism?” Rath asked, looking interested.

I shrugged.

“They used to think it was some terrible, traumatic event in a child’s early life that caused it.

Now a lot of experts say it’s just a kind of extreme social anxiety.

Though to be honest, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe my problem might have to do with magic.

At least, that’s what Goody Albright told me. ”

“Oh, you’ve already met Goody Albright?” he asked. “Were you able to talk to her, too?”

I shook my head.

“No—she pretty much did all the talking. But I carry a notepad and pen with me all the time, so I was able to ask some questions. She thinks my magic is bound and that the same, er, spell that’s binding it is also binding my voice.”

I didn’t mention the pointed look Goody Albright had directed at my lap or the way she’d said that “other things” must be bound as well. Though it did make me wonder—if I was able to unbind myself, would that mean I could finally have sex?

The thought made me blush, because I couldn’t help wondering what sex would be like with someone like Rath. He was so big and we were two different species—would it even be possible?

“If Goody Albright thinks your magic is bound, then I’d listen to her,” Rath said. He was clearly (and thankfully) unaware of the lascivious thoughts I’d been thinking about him. “She’s an extremely strong and well-respected witch,” he added.

“I wondered how she got her garden to bloom in the Fall,” I remarked. “She also said she was my Grandma’s best friend?” I made it a question, wanting to know if Rath agreed.

He nodded.

“They were pretty close, I think. Though your Grandma was beloved by the whole community—she kind of felt like everyone’s Grandma—you know?”

“Did she feel like that to you, too?” I asked curiously. “I mean, how did you meet her?”