Page 32 of Death and Donuts

“Takes one to know one,” I said.

He chuckled. “Very true.”

“I have a question for you.”

“Ask me anything.”

“You said that a hint of my scent hooked you. Doc mentioned something similar about werewolves having great noses when it comes to their mates. How do werewolves typically find their mates?”

“It’s not easy. We might smell a woman we think is right, but typically, the woman doesn’t agree. My kind is rejected more often than they are accepted. Romantically, I mean.”

“What if you know the one you’re smelling is already interested in your kind? Would there be fewer rejections?”

“Depends on the woman, I suppose. Is there a reason you’re asking?”

“I have an idea to help increase the popularity of our bakery and maybe help a few of your kind find their mates. What if women who are interested in a potential wolf mate each made a cookie that I could sell at the bakery? Wolves would be able to smell if they’re interested in the woman through the cookie. If there’s a match, they could meet up.”

Shepard rubbed a hand along his jaw, not nearly as excited as I was when I had thought of the idea. “It’s a good idea. But it might work too well.”

“Too well?” I chuckled. “Don’t want your house overrun with women?”

“Space isn’t the issue. There’s enough room for everyone. But if Cross wants to attract otherworld beings like vampires, it wouldn’t work if wolves are lining up for cookies. Vampires wouldn’t dare enter with such a heavy wolf presence.”

“I didn’t think of that. I’ll talk to Cross and see if we can work something out. Maybe it can be a special event instead.”

Shepard pulled alongside a pothole-riddled road and parked near an alley. I looked around, trying to find a restaurant, but there was only a wig shop, a butcher shop, and a spice shop.

“Are we at the right place?” I asked.

“Remember how I said I found this place while searching for vampire nests?”

I nodded. “You must have looked hard because I still don’t see anything.”

“Because it’s not in sight, which is why we thought it might be a nest.”

He hopped out of the SUV and came around to open my door to help me down. Keeping my hand in his, he led me down the alley between two brick buildings.

The alley opened up to a small courtyard filled with metal bistro tables and chairs. A magical mix of fresh bread, sugar, and herbs scented the air there, and I read the sign above the propped open door.Le Four Cachè.

A chalkboard near the door displayed the day’s menu.

“I love this place already,” I said.

“I thought you would,” Shepard said. “The woman who owns this is half fae, half human. She combines her love of both worlds into her menu.”

“Why isn’t this place packed?”

“Aibell doesn’t care about customers too much. She loves her craft and gives leftover food to shelters and otherworlders who can’t find employment.”

“That’s kind, but how can she afford to stay in business?”

“Her father is fae and can keep her business running for as long as she cares.”

We entered the small restaurant that had mismatched wooden tables and chairs. Twinkle string lights crisscrossed the ceiling, creating the only light beyond the two windows in front.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” a woman called from beyond a doorway that was draped with strings of beads. “Have a seat anywhere.”

Shepard followed me to a table near the window.

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