Page 9 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Rune

Autumn squeezes my shoulder once, twice, three times. That’s the code to let me know Operation Events Binder is a success.

I relax back into my seat, no longer needing to keep Mrs. Greely occupied.

Not that she’d notice me right now, anyway.

She wields her binder like a general giving field commands before battle.

“We’ve had several strong applications this year, and I’m pleased to announce that among them were some new participants.

Although I won’t say anything until I have confirmation from the chosen party—” She shoots me a knowing look.

“—I think it’s safe to say this year’s hay maze will be the best we’ve seen in years! ”

I try to smile, but it’s probably more of a grimace. Thank the goddess the town’s protection spell means the little old lady can’t see my fangs.

She goes on and on, covering each event in minute detail, barely letting anyone else speak, even Hannah, the mayor, or the other elderly women who are on the events committee.

I can finally see what Autumn meant. Mrs. Greely doesn’t just run the committee—she’s made the fall festival her entire life.

It gives her a feeling of purpose. It gives her a feeling of power.

She’s like a pack matriarch frustrated to be relegated to only this one duty, so she’s going to sink her fangs in and growl at anyone who comes near.

It makes her a formidable adversary, exactly as Autumn warned.

It also makes her a sympathetic one. I can’t imagine pack elders reduced to one yearly festival instead of counseling the alpha year-round.

They deserve respect for their hard-won wisdom, not to be shunted aside.

When the talk turns to a fiery discussion of napkin colors, the audience grows restless. Autumn shifts constantly behind me, unable to sit still, and I’m so attuned to her, I can hear every tiny rustle of her clothing.

Finally, Babybelle gives another high bleat and jumps down to race up to the front. She circles loops around Hannah, her little hooves thundering on the hardwood floor far more loudly than something her size should be able to produce.

“Okay, everyone!” Hannah yells over the clatter, a laugh filling her voice.

“I’m calling it. This town meeting is now over.

Someone come and get the rest of the cookies so I don’t take them home and eat them myself, because you know Severin’s going to bring me cinnamon rolls in the morning, and there’s only so much sugar one woman can take. ”

“Damn right I will,” her husband growls.

“And I thank you for it!” Pepperpot, the brownie baker who owns Cake My Day, calls out.

Everyone laughs and starts to stand.

Mrs. Greely struggles to get her heavy handbag back onto her shoulder, and I lean over to pick it up for her and help her to her feet.

“You are a fine young man.” She pats my arm. “Our little chat this evening has made me even happier I picked you to host the hay maze this year. You get that confirmation letter back to me this week, you hear?”

“Yes.” I agree that I hear her, but I’m sure she thinks I’m accepting the offer to run the hay maze.

I can’t disabuse her of the notion without exposing that something’s gone wrong with the applications, so I let my comment stand.

Hopefully, Operation Events Binder will give Autumn what she needs to put everything right.

Hannah and Severin join us, and our little group brings up the rear as Hannah ushers everyone out of Town Hall and locks up.

Night has fallen, but downtown spreads out before us, well-lit by streetlights.

The cool and crisp air carries the comforting smell of fallen leaves and a lingering scent of spring flowers, coming from the magicked blooms of the town green.

The Thirsty Tusk and Slice of Life open their doors to accommodate the townspeople ready for evening libations, but we head to I Touch My Shelf to complete the final stage of the plan—the debrief.

Once Hannah unlocks the door, we pile into the bookshop and gather on the couches, with me sitting beside Autumn.

Skye asks, “Did it work? Did you get it?”

“Yep!” Autumn pulls out her phone.

Babybelle prances by her feet, baaing repeatedly.

“Yes, it was only successful because of you,” Autumn says.

“Oh, my god! You got your familiar!” Hannah grins and tips her head, listening as the mini-goat baas. “Yes, I’m Hannah, and I can talk to all animals, not just my familiar.”

“This is Babybelle.” Autumn gazes down at the mini-goat, gentle affection softening her face.

“Like the cheese?” Hannah asks.

Skye adds, “Is that the littlest cheese for the littlest goat?”

“Yep, you know me.” Autumn chuckles. “She’s totally named after cheese. I just made the spelling prettier.”

A loud bark comes from the front door, and Severin’s shadows flow across the room to open it. Finn the fox streaks over to Hannah and sits on her foot, his tail wrapping around her calves as he glares at the goat, yipping all the while.

“Yes, I know I’m your witch.” Hannah smiles fondly at him. “Babybelle is Autumn’s familiar, so of course I’m going to be nice to her, because Autumn is one of my best friends.”

He snorts in annoyance, but falls silent, still glaring at the mini-goat.

It deters her not at all. If anything, she makes an extra effort to bounce around the seating area, playfully headbutting everyone’s calves before finally settling at Autumn’s feet.

“Is Operation Events Binder a success?” I ask Autumn, who’s been looking at her phone through all of this.

“Maybe.” Autumn swipes repeatedly, studying one photo after another. Then her hand finally pauses, her eyes darting across the screen, her mouth twisting as she reads. “This makes zero effing sense.”

“What is it?” I lean closer to better see the photo, but I still can’t read the human language.

“This isn’t your application—it’s mine. It’s even my handwriting, for eff’s sake!

” She jabs a finger at the screen. “The name and address on the application are yours. It’s my handwriting, but the info is yours!

What the hell? I didn’t put you on my application!

I couldn’t have—I had no idea you owned the old Clemmons place when I filled this out.

” Her tone changes from anger to despair.

“This is all so unfair! The hay maze was finally going to be mine, and now it’s all effed up! ”

“Let me see that.” Hannah takes the phone, and she and Skye huddle together to read over the form.

As soon as they’re done, I take the device from them and say, “Severin, can you cast a translation spell for me?”

The shadow fae flicks his fingers in my direction, and the words on the screen reform into ones I can read.

But it’s exactly as Autumn said. “This isn’t my handwriting, and nothing about this form is familiar.

I definitely didn’t fill this out. In fact, I didn’t fill out any forms. Mrs. Greely wrote everything down when she asked me to judge the pumpkin carving contest.”

“What do we do?” Skye asks, looking troubled.

“It’s okay.” I hand the phone back to Autumn. “I’ll tell Mrs. Greely to give the hay maze to you.”

“No, wait.” The redheaded witch closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Whoever messed with the paperwork did an excellent job mimicking my handwriting. It looks like I’m the one who made the mistake, and Mrs. Greely hates people who make mistakes.

If we tell her about this, she’ll never let me host the hay maze. ”

I bristle. “But you didn’t do it.”

“I know that, and you know that, but…” She shrugs, throwing up her hands.

“I can back you up,” Hannah says. “After all, what’s the point of having a bestie who’s mayor if I can’t help you with things like this?”

“You know that’s not how things work around here.

” Autumn shakes her head. “The events committee is a volunteer organization, and Mrs. Greely will resent any kind of interference from the government. She’s already upset that you won’t turn over the Halloween day celebrations to her.

She’ll make town meetings unbearable for you for years. ”

“I don’t get it.” Skye’s face crumples with confusion. “Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?”

“Do you think it was Maria?” Hannah says.

Autumn stares at her phone, her lips twisting in the way that means she’s thinking. “Nah. None of this does her any good. It doesn’t give her the hay maze.”

“It would if you brought the mix-up to Mrs. Greely, and the elder reacts as you expect,” I say. “She’d be forced to pick the only other application, which is Maria’s.”

“Maybe, but…” Autumns shakes her head, her hair swaying like a curtain of fire. “No, I can’t see it. I might not like that Maria’s farm keeps winning the hay maze competition, but she’s not the type to do something underhanded like this.”

Skye asks, “Then who?”

“What if it wasn’t a person?” I say.

Everyone turns to look at me.

“What if it was magic? This isn’t the only odd thing to occur recently.” I look at Autumn. “Are you opening a bodyguard or security business?”

Her eyes go wide. “A what?”

“A bodyguard business.”

She doubles over laughing, her arms wrapped around her stomach as her shoulders shake. Babybelle baas and bounces at her feet, and whatever the mini-goat says makes the redheaded witch laugh even harder.

When she finally gets hold of herself and straightens, her cheeks are flushed, her freckles dark stars scattered over a pink sky. My fire can barely control her grin. “Me, a bodyguard? I’m about as physically threatening as overcooked pasta. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Severin did.”

“I did?” He jolts, then frowns. “No, you’re right. I did say that the other night. But I’m uncertain as to why.”

“It has to be magic.” I give a sharp nod toward Autumn. “Your magic. It’s the spell you did at the Wishing Well.”

Her eyes flash fire. “I told you I didn’t—” The protest dies on her lips, and she pulls out her phone and starts swiping again. “What was it you said you volunteered for with Mrs. Greely?”

“The pumpkin carving contest.”

After another few seconds, she pauses. “Ah ha! I knew I’d seen something, but it wasn’t about the hay maze, so I kept going.” She holds the screen up in front of me. “This says I’m the one running the pumpkin carving competition, not you, but I never applied for that.”

“What does any of this have to do with the Wishing Well?” Hannah asks.

“I wished to host the hay maze,” Autumn says, shooting me a questioning glance.

I nod. “I wished to judge the pumpkin carving competition.”

Autumn’s green eyes turn thoughtful. “Rune, did you wish for something about your security business?”

“I did.”

“Has anyone tried to get you to open a soap store?”

“Not yet.”

“Give it time,” she mutters.

Skye asks, “What does it all mean?”

“Our wishes are coming true—which is fantastic—but they’re all wrong.” Autumn throws her hands wide. “I’m getting yours, and you’re getting mine.”

“You mean…” I scowl.

“Yep.” She pops the P. “All of our wishes have been effing swapped!”