Page 7

H azel

The blue dress fit like it had been made for her, which was probably because it had.

Sage's magical wardrobe had a way of adapting to whoever wore it, and as Hazel smoothed the fabric over her hips, she had to admit Sage had excellent taste.

The dress was simple but flattering, with a neckline that was respectable but still showed enough cleavage to be interesting.

The glamour necklace settled against her throat like cool water, immediately dampening her magical aura to barely a flicker. It was an odd sensation, like having cotton stuffed in her ears, but she could still feel her power humming beneath the surface.

"Much better," she murmured to her reflection, then jumped when Hopper spoke from the counter beside the sink.

"You clean up nice. Very 'innocent hedge witch having a normal evening.' Though I still say this is a terrible plan."

"What's terrible about it? We put on disguises, act normal, and wait for them to leave."

"The part where you have to act like a couple with the minotaur who's been making your magic do the cha-cha all night." Hopper's expression was skeptical. "You remember what happened the last time you had to act lovey-dovey with someone?"

"That was different. Steven was actually my boyfriend at the time."

"Right. And you were so nervous about meeting his parents that you accidentally turned his mother's prize roses into carnivorous plants."

"Those roses were asking for it," Hazel muttered, adjusting the necklace. "They kept trying to bite the mailman."

A knock on the bathroom door interrupted her argument with her familiar. "Hazel? You ready?" Bullseye's voice carried through the wood, deeper and rougher than usual.

She opened the door and immediately forgot how to breathe.

The black button-down shirt fit him like a second skin, emphasizing the broad expanse of his chest and the way his shoulders seemed to go on forever.

The leather vest added an edge that made her want to run her hands over the enchanted hide just to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

He'd done something to his hair that made it look casually tousled instead of windblown, and when he smiled at her, she felt her carefully dampened magic try to spark to life.

"You look..." he started, then seemed to lose his words. His dark eyes traveled from her face down to her toes and back up again, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "Beautiful. You look beautiful."

"You clean up pretty well yourself," she managed, proud that her voice came out mostly steady. "Very authentic boyfriend material."

Something flashed in his eyes at the word 'boyfriend,' there and gone so quickly she might have imagined it. "Right. Boyfriends. We should probably work out some details before we go out there."

"Details?"

"How long we've been together, how we met, that sort of thing. In case they ask questions."

"Good thinking." Hazel tried to focus on practical matters instead of the way his shirt pulled slightly across his chest when he moved. "How about six months? Long enough to be comfortable with each other, not so long that we'd be talking about moving in together."

"Six months," he agreed. "And we met here? At Sage's place?"

"Perfect. You were passing through on business, I was visiting my friend. Classic meet-cute scenario."

"What kind of business?"

Hazel grinned. "Furniture delivery. Very boring, very legitimate."

"Furniture delivery," Bullseye repeated with amusement. "I like it. What about you? What do you do when you're not running from weddings?"

"Freelance enchantment work. Protective wards, household charms, the occasional love potion for desperate romantics." It was close enough to the truth that she could sell it convincingly.

"Love potions?" His eyebrow rose. "That seems dangerous."

"Only if you use them wrong. Most people think love potions create love out of nothing, but really they just amplify what's already there.

" She found herself stepping closer to him, drawn by the warmth radiating from his large frame.

"The real magic happens when two people already have a connection. "

The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with the same electricity that had been building all night. Bullseye's eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her right there in Sage's hallway.

Instead, he cleared his throat and stepped back slightly. "We should probably get out there before Sheriff Lawman decides to break down the door."

"Right. Of course." Hazel tried to ignore the pang of disappointment. "One more thing though. If we're supposed to be a couple, we should probably..." She gestured vaguely between them.

"Should probably what?"

"Be more... physical. Couples touch each other. Hold hands, stand close together, that sort of thing."

Bullseye's gaze dropped to her mouth for a split second before returning to her eyes. "You want me to touch you?"

The way he said it, low and rough, made heat pool in her belly. "For the disguise," she said quickly. "Just for the disguise."

"Right. The disguise."

But when he held out his hand, palm up, and she placed her fingers in his, it didn't feel like pretending. His hand was warm and calloused, large enough to engulf hers, and when his thumb brushed across her knuckles, she had to bite back a small sound of pleasure.

"This okay?" he asked softly.

"Perfect," she whispered, meaning it more than she should.

They walked out of the back area hand in hand, and Hazel was proud of how normal they looked. Just a regular couple out for a late-night snack, nothing suspicious about them at all.

"Oh hey, Hazel," Sage called out casually as they entered the main dining area. "Didn't expect to see you tonight. How's everything going?"

"Just fine," Hazel replied, grateful that Sage was playing it cool. "We were in the area and thought we'd stop for coffee."

"Great choice. Find yourselves a seat anywhere. Can I get you something? We've got fresh pie, coffee that'll wake the dead, and today's special is enchanted meatloaf with a side of probably-not-cursed vegetables."

"Pie sounds great," Hazel said, sliding into a booth by the window.

The neon lights outside cast colorful patterns across the table.

Bullseye settled beside her instead of across from her, which put his thigh against hers and filled her nostrils with his scent—leather and motor oil and something indefinably masculine that made her want to bury her face in his neck.

"Two pieces of pie coming right up," Sage said. "Apple okay?"

"Perfect," Bullseye replied.

As Sage headed toward the kitchen, Hazel allowed herself to relax slightly.

The glamour necklace was working perfectly, dampening her magical signature to something completely unremarkable.

The other customers—a few werewolves at a corner table, a centaur on what appeared to be a date with a wood nymph, and various other supernatural beings—paid them no attention at all.

That lasted exactly three minutes.

The front door chimed, and Sheriff Grizzley T. Lawman entered with purposeful strides. He was massive, intimidating, and currently scanning the parking lot through the windows with obvious irritation.

"Evening, folks," he announced to the truck stop at large, his voice carrying the authority of someone used to being obeyed. Three deputies followed him in, along with what appeared to be a federal agent in a suit that practically screamed "supernatural crimes division."

The werewolves at the corner table looked up with mild interest but didn't seem particularly concerned. Sheriff Lawman's presence at Sage's wasn't exactly unusual.

"Sheriff," Sage said pleasantly, emerging from behind the counter. "What brings you out this way tonight?"

"Official business," Sheriff Lawman replied, his small eyes still scanning the room. "We're looking for a black Trans Am. Late model, heavily modified. Someone reported seeing it in your parking lot."

Hazel's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to remain calm. The glamour was still working—she could feel it humming around them like a protective bubble.

"Lots of folks drive Trans Ams," Sage said with a shrug. "Can't say I pay much attention to what's parked outside."

"This one's special," the federal agent said, stepping forward with his credentials already out. "Agent Fernandez, Supernatural Crimes Division. The vehicle belongs to a person of interest in an ongoing investigation."

"Well, you're welcome to look around," Sage said agreeably. "Though you know the rules about harassing my customers without proper warrants."

Sheriff Lawman's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Just asking questions. For now." His gaze swept the room again, passing over Hazel and Bullseye without pause. The glamour held.

"Mind if we talk to some of your customers?" Agent Fernandez asked. "Just routine inquiries."

"Be my guest," Sage replied. "Though I should mention that most folks come here for the peace and quiet. They don't much appreciate being bothered."

The werewolves snorted in agreement. "Speak for yourself," one of them called out. "We love a good interrogation. Makes dinner more interesting."

Sheriff Lawman ignored the commentary and began making his way around the room, the federal agent at his side. They spoke quietly to the centaur and his date, showed them what appeared to be photographs, and moved on when both shook their heads.

Under the table, Bullseye's hand found Hazel's knee and squeezed gently—a gesture that was probably meant to be reassuring but instead sent electricity shooting straight up her thigh. She tried to look bored and uninterested in the law enforcement drama playing out across the restaurant.

"We're looking for two individuals," Agent Fernandez announced to the room at large, pulling out what appeared to be a magical sketch pad. "A witch named Hazel Thornfield and an unknown male accomplice. They were last seen fleeing in a black Trans Am."