Page 28 of Blue Moon Mistress

“Even if she doesn’t, it takes a lot of practice and a whole hell of a lot of luck to get one of those to work right.”

I swear I hear Anthony sigh and say “I know.” But when he turns back with my bags, he’s got a huge smile on his face. “I put the receipt in the bag with the box.”

The bag with my blue calcite.

“Thanks. Have a great rest of your day, Anthony.”

“You too.”

I leave him leaning on his counter, looking after me and I sincerely hope he’s never tried to use a love potion before. If he has, I’ll smack him upside his pretty head and then dampen his already weak powers so he can’t hurt anyone with that sort of nonsense.

I have to cross the puddle strewn highway to get back to the parking lot, and a light drizzle starts as the walk sign turns white.

So much for my sunny Sunday…

It’s barely two in the afternoon, and the clouds are already so dark, the stop light glares against the dark pavement.

Parking in the town’s version of a “downtown” can be just as tricky as parking in a major city’s downtown. If you don’t know what you’re doing or where you’re going, it’s easy to wind up in the wrong place, with a ticket stuck under your windshield.

But I imagine most people are still sleeping off hangovers, whether they’re from sugar or alcohol, so the one free lot is almost completely vacant. I stash my goodies in the back seat—the last thing I want is for the shovel to smash the box to pieces if something happens. The car might be small, but it has hooks on the headrests to deal with exactly this problem.

The door shuts with a satisfying thump, and when I turn for my driver’s seat, I catch sight of a familiar blond head. Thomas might have been done with football practice already, but he’s headed toward the boardwalk basketball court with a group of four kids. They’re all talking animatedly and over themselves, trying to get his attention—to gain his approval. And based on their reactions to what he responds with, he’s just as eager to give it to them.

Most packs have a man like Thomas in them. That loyal and loving guy who’s the human embodiment of sunshine. What I’ve read says theyhaveto.

Packs without them don’t tend to last long. The monthly change is rough, and fear and doubt can mix too easily to create a volatile combination.

I shiver, even though there’s no foul wind sweeping over me.

With a deep breath of salty air, I have to remind myself: the wolves are mine now. The men aren’t. These protective, possessive feelings I have could get me into trouble.

There’s a crack of thunder overhead and I get into the driver’s seat as the kids break out into a run. The court is covered, but they’ll all be soaked by the time they get there.

Watching Thomas for a moment longer—the scene out my window turned to an oil painting by the rain—I finally flick my wipers on, ruining the illusion, and head for home.

The roads are dark and by the time gravel crunches under my tires, the water rushing through the ditch on the other side of the highway could safely be called a torrent. And when the wolves who escorted me from the edge of the drive back to the house get under the porch, they shake off the rain that didn’t actually stick to their fur.

“Did you have fun terrorizing rabbits this morning?” I ask as I open the door and let their ghostly forms rush into the house past me—not that they need the door open to get inside.

My phone rings almost as soon as I close the door, and if Elaria was a different kind of witch, I’d think she’d put some sort of spell on my front door. But Elle’s just lucky.

Tossing my phone on the counter, I answer the call on my tablet. It’s still in the cookbook prop from two days ago.

“Hey!” I say as her face appears on the screen and she smirks at me.

“Your mother is an absolute nightmare!” She spears her black stiletto nails into her neon red hair.

“And good afternoon to you too.”

Elaria is still a part of the coven in all ways, not just in name.

She rolls her eyes at me and lets out a long sigh. “Good afternoon and blessed Samhain. You look like you had a wonderful night.”

“Better than you know…”

She looks past me to the wolves. Her brows pinch a bare moment before her eyes go wide. “What did you do?”

“This is not the way to talk about that.” Not over the phone.

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