by Zoe Chant
Blinking, Annie took a deep breath. What had Scott been planning to do when Mr. Dearborn had looked over the week’s takings and found it short by several hundred dollars? Her mind flashed to Danny, and what had happened to him – what Scott had accused him of doing.
“I guess he wouldn’t,” she said, putting the box of cookies down. “But all the same, I think I’d feel more comfortable if I just called and asked him, just to make sure.”
She turned, reaching for the phone on the counter – before Scott’s hand came down over the receiver.
“Are you saying I’m lying?” he asked, his voice now tinged with menace. “You really want to call my dad – my dad – and accuse me of lying to him?”
“I’m not accusing you,” Annie said quietly, fear fluttering in her chest. Ruthlessly, she swallowed it down. She’d always dealt with hostility and conflict by getting quieter and more withdrawn. She could hear the tremble in her own voice, and she hated it.
“Then what’s the problem?” Scott asked, with a short, barked laugh. “If you’re not accusing me of lying, then no biggie, let’s all just move on with our lives.”
Annie took a deep breath, steeling her nerve. She wasn’t good with confrontation – at all. She especially wasn’t good with standing up to authority figures, which Scott, technically, was.
But she knew this wasn’t right. And she wasn’t about to let Scott prance out of here with everything the bakery had earned this morning, to tell who knew what story to his father later.
“Scott,” she said, hoping her voice sounded firm. “I said I’d prefer it if you didn’t do that.”
“And I said it’s none of your business,” Scott shot back. He paused, lip curling. “Or do you want me to tell my dad you’re making trouble?”
Annie shook her head. “I’m not the one making trouble.” She swallowed down her fear, and forced herself to look him in the eye. “You can’t take the money, unless I call your dad and get his okay first.”
A surprised expression crossed Scott’s face, before he snorted out a laugh. “Oh, please. Run along home, Annie. It’s my money, and I’m taking it. Like I said, this has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
Screwing up all her courage, Annie reached across and put her hand down on his where it was rifling through the cash drawer again, plucking up notes. Scott looked at her, eyes furious.
She pulled in a deep breath, willing herself not to falter.
“And like I said, no, you’re not.”
Chapter 3
Driving through the snow, Beau glanced down at the clock on his dashboard. It was barely lunchtime, but he’d been on the road since four, and he could feel – not to mention hear – his stomach beginning to growl. He’d have to find somewhere to stop.
Not to mention, Beau thought, as his hippogriff gave a mighty kick of its horse’s back legs within him, spreading its wings, I have to find a way to keep this guy quiet for the next few hours.
The farther they had gotten from the city, the more restless his hippogriff had become. Now that they were almost in the mountains and the towns were small and far between, it was becoming more and more wild.
No one would pay us any mind here, it insisted. We should leave this metal thing and fly free.
You know it’s called a car, and no, Beau shot back at it. Time is of the essence, here. You wanted to be home, so I’m taking us there the fastest way I can. Besides which, do you understand the meaning of the word ‘loan’? Because I haven’t finished paying the loan for this car, so like hell I’m leaving it on the side of the road so you can go have a frolic.
His hippogriff twitched its tail and turned away sulkily at that, and Beau had to admit he did feel kind of bad for it. It had been a while since it’d had the chance to be truly free, to spend time in the kind of wilderness they were heading out to now.
His hometown of Willow Grove could barely even be called a town – it was more of a loose collection of houses scattered across the county, all surrounded by several acres of woodland. It was perfect for his family to shift and wander around in, letting their hippogriffs run as wild as they wanted to without fear of discovery.
All right – but we will get something to eat, I promise, Beau said, once his guilt at shooting down his hippogriff’s desire to be free got to him. Besides, I have to bring at least a little something with me. Courtney won’t forgive me if I turn up empty-handed again.
His hippogriff seemed to cheer up a little at that, snorting and kicking up its back legs. But it still seemed restless and discontent, shaking its head and shifting its powerful talons, as if trying to scent the air for something only it could detect.
Beau frowned. It made sense his hippogriff would be excited, but this was something different altogether. It made him uneasy.
Shaking his head, he did his best to ignore it. Whatever was eating his hippogriff, it would have to wait. Soon, they’d be in Willow Grove, and then –
Oh, is that a bakery?
Beau slowed his car down as suddenly as he could, peering through the moderately heavy snow. The bakery’s windows were lit up with Christmas lights in green and red, twinkling brightly in the dimness of the snowy afternoon, illuminating what looked like an amazing selection of cakes and pies in the window.
A small-town bakery was just the thing he’d been looking for: he could grab some easy, delicious snacks for himself, and have something good to bring to the family Christmas table so his sister wouldn’t give him an earful.
Perfect, Beau thought as he swung the car around, bringing it to a stop in one of the parking spaces outside the bakery. When he got out, his sharp shifter senses could detect the sweet scents of sugar and pastry in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of the forest that surrounded the town, and the fresh, clean mountain air.
Immediately, his hippogriff lifted its head, scenting the air. This scent…
Sorry, it’s just a quick stop, Beau told it as he jogged up to the steps of the shops. Enjoy it while you can.
His hippogriff ignored him. Beau could feel a strange sense of unease ripple through him as the hippogriff’s flanks shivered, its hooves and talons shifting agitatedly.
What’s with you? he asked, but again, he got no answer.
Inwardly sighing, Beau pushed open the door to the bakery. The air inside was warm and sweet-smelling. He inhaled, enjoying the way the different scents played over his senses: fruits, sugar, pastry, and icing. He shook the snow off his shoulders in the entryway, and then stepped onto the shop floor – just in time to see a tall man with dark, slicked-back hair looming over a woman, his face twisted in anger.
The woman was standing her ground, however, eyes staring determinedly back up at him, her mouth set in a firm line.
She’s pretty cute, Beau noted somewhere in his mind – and she was. Her eyes were a rare shade of dark green, and even though her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun and covered by a hair net, Beau could tell it was long and thick, with a hint of curl. Although she was dressed in a conservative beige work shirt, it did nothing to conceal her generous, lush curves – she definitely had one of those va-va-voom! figures Beau personally found incredibly attractive.
Maybe that was why his hippogriff had suddenly started causing such a fuss, he noted, as he made his way across the shop floor. It didn’t usually take notice of humans – even the ridiculously attractive ones – but now, it was practically dancing on its hind legs, head raised, spreading its wings frantically.
Now is not the time! he told it, doing his best to shove its antics to one side. Something’s clearly not right here.
And it wasn’t: the tension in the air was thick enough to cut. The man with the dark hair was snarling now, the woman standing her ground. Beau had clearly walked in on some kind of confrontation, and while he didn’t know what it was about, he definitely didn’t like the sight of a man standing over a woman, obviously trying to threaten her.
“Anything I can help with here?” he asked, walking
up to the counter and cutting into the argument with a calm, clear voice. If he knew anything, it was that it was always better to deescalate an argument rather than contribute to it.
The man seemed startled at the sound of his voice, quickly turning his head to look at Beau with cold, dark eyes. His lip curled as he looked him over.
Friendly type, Beau noted, but despite his hippogriff’s agitation growing stronger by the second, he worked to keep his face neutral.
“No, you can’t,” the man snapped out after a moment or two of clearly contemptuous silence. “If you’re going to buy something, then buy something. But otherwise, this is none of your business.”
“Maybe not. But all the same, I’d like to know what’s happening,” Beau said, turning to the woman. She really was gorgeous, he thought, blinking as he lost himself for a moment in her dark green eyes.
Within him, his hippogriff kicked up its hind legs, opening its beak to let out an infuriated screech. Beau could barely suppress a grimace at the effort it took to ignore it.
The woman hesitated, licking her lips. She returned his gaze uncertainly, before she finally seemed to make up her mind, her resolve showing on her face. “I was only asking –”
“I’m her boss,” the man snapped out. “This is a dispute between me and my employee. If you’re not here to buy something, then I suggest you leave.”
“You aren’t my boss.” The woman’s voice was quiet but firm. “Mr. Dearborn is my boss, and he didn’t say anything about sending you to collect money from the register. That’s all I want – to be able to call him and check.”
Taking money from the register? Beau raised an eyebrow. “Is this true?”
The dark-haired man looked like he was about to explode from fury. “Who cares if it is? Who the hell even are you?”
“Just a nosy stranger,” Beau replied with equanimity. It wouldn’t do any good to say he was an agent of the Shifter Patrol Corps – these people were definitely human and would never have heard of it, and he didn’t have any authority in human law enforcement anyway. The Corps dealt strictly with shifter criminals only.
“Well, nosy strangers can get lost,” the man snarled. “It’s my shop, and it’s my money. You get the message?”
“She doesn’t seem to think it is,” Beau said, nodding at the woman. He glanced down at her nametag – Annie. A warm feeling spread through his chest, and the name seemed to echo through his mind with the clarity of a bell.
Frowning, Beau resisted the urge to shake his head to clear it. Something weird was going on here, but right now wasn’t the time to try to figure out what.
“So you’re taking her word over mine?” The man seemed outraged. “No one even asked you!”
Beau held up his hands placatingly, though to be honest, he’d had about enough of this guy and his mouthiness. “If there’s no issue, then let the lady make the phone call to make sure everything’s in order. If she really is your employee, you should be glad to have someone so diligent working for you.”
Beau had been trying to talk some sense into the man – as little as he really deserved it – but he could see now that was pretty much a lost cause. The man stared at him, fury writ large into every line of his face.
Beau readied himself, a subtle tensing of his muscles. He hoped the man would simply back off – but, Beau reflected with disappointment, that seemed a little too much to hope for, as the man came charging around the side of the counter, fists clenched.
“How many times do I have to tell you it’s none of your busin—”
The man punctuated his shout with a wild swing of his fist – one that Beau ducked out of the way of easily, before lifting his hand to catch the man’s arm, pulling him along with his own momentum, jerking his arm and then pinning it behind his back.
The move wouldn’t hurt him or cause him any injury whatsoever – Beau had learned at a very young age that his shifter strength meant he needed to be gentle with humans – but it did keep him from doing anything else stupid.
“Let me go!” the man shouted, futilely trying to wriggle out of Beau’s grip.
“I will – once you’ve decided you’re going to leave nice and quietly,” Beau told him. “It might be your shop, but I don’t think it’s good policy to hit your customers. Or try to, anyway.”
The man didn’t seem to see it that way, and continued to shout and struggle in Beau’s hold. Beau quickly glanced at the woman – at Annie, he reminded himself – hoping to reassure her.
She looked pale, her green eyes wide, but her expression was still one of defiant determination. As he watched, she reached for the phone that sat on the counter next to the register.
“Scott,” she said, her voice low and firm. “You can either go now, or I can call your dad – and the cops. But I really don’t want to do that if I don’t have to.”
At the mention of his father and the police, the man – Scott, apparently – momentarily stopped struggling.
“Fine,” he ground out, after a long, tension-filled moment. “I’ll go – but don’t think I’ll forget this, Annie. You know this shop’ll be mine soon enough. So look forward to being out of a job once that happens.”
Beau didn’t exactly like the sound of that, but he figured an apology was probably out of the question.
“If you’re done, I’ll let you go now,” he said, calmly and quietly. “And the first thing you’re going to do is walk out the door. Got it?”
The only response he got was an angry huff, but Beau hoped it was clear to Scott by now that all the wriggling in the world wasn’t going to get him free of the hold Beau had him in.
He let him go, releasing his arm, and Scott took a couple of stumbling steps away from him before righting himself. He turned, angry and humiliated, his eyes skittering over Beau before looking past him at Annie.
“You remember what I said,” he sneered, pointing at her. “You won’t always have someone here to protect you. You got that?”
Annie didn’t answer him. She maintained her dignity in the face of his fury, simply staring him down, but Beau could see the way her breath quickened, and she swallowed with what was obviously fear. Nonetheless, she didn’t blink, didn’t blanch – until finally Scott, after one last scowl, turned and slammed open the bakery door and stormed out into the snow.
As soon as he was gone, Annie seemed to sag over with relief, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Are you okay?” Beau asked her, crossing the floor to the counter. He only had the vaguest idea of what he’d walked in on, but still, he knew enough to know that no one deserved to be spoken to the way Scott had been speaking to Annie.
Annie glanced up at him now, her green eyes wide as she licked her lips, a wary expression coming over her face. Something inside Beau felt pained to see it – it was clear that Annie wasn’t used to trusting people.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, pulling herself upright again, as if trying to disguise the fact she’d been relieved to see Scott gone. “He was just… well, I guess you saw it.” She paused, biting her lip. “Uh, thanks. For getting him to leave. I appreciate it. But you must’ve just come in here to buy something. What can I get for you?”
Annie had pulled herself together remarkably quickly, reverting to what must have been her calm, polite customer service persona. But Scott could still see the tension in her shoulders and the clench of her jaw. She was far from calm, even if she was doing a good imitation of it.
She needs our help. We must help her. We must.
Inside him, his hippogriff was stamping its back hooves and screeching, tossing its head wildly. Something had gotten its dander up. Of course, Beau knew about its protective instincts. That was just part of being a hippogriff – or a shifter in general. His instinct to protect was part of what helped him do his job. But he’d never seen it react this way to anyone before.
“Well, I did come in for some cookies and cake,” Beau said. “But if you’re in any kind of trouble, then I’d li
ke to do what I can to help.”
Annie’s eyes widened slightly as she stared at him, her full, pink lips parting slightly. “I – no, no, that won’t be necessary,” she said quickly. “Really. Let me just get what you need so you can –”
“Annie, isn’t your shift over though?”
Beau and Annie both turned at the sound of a voice from the side of the shop. A woman with black hair and a wide smile stood there, boxes of sugar cookies in her arms. She put them down on the counter and turned her smile toward Beau.
“She’s done for the day! So she’s free if you wanted to ask her any questions. You could do it over coffee or something. Couldn’t he, Annie?”
“Christina…” Annie muttered, shooting her what could only be described as a look.
Beau blinked in surprise, looking back and forth between them – until he was distracted by his hippogriff letting forth an almighty cry
Yes! Listen to the woman! This is what we should do!
Beau firmly shoved its performance to one side – as much as he was able to, anyway. It was true Annie was an attractive woman, and it was true that he wanted to help her any way he could, if she needed it. But it was also true that if she seemed reluctant – which she did – he wasn’t about to force her to do anything.
“I don’t want to intrude,” he said quickly. “I just thought I’d offer you the help, if you needed it. And the offer still stands in a day or so, if that’s what you decide. Just let me know. I can leave my number.”
Annie’s brow furrowed, as if she was confused or troubled by his words. “Thank you. I appreciate that. Honestly.”
Beau nodded. “It’s no problem. Anyway, I’ll pick out a few things and then get out of your hair.”
It was both difficult and easy to pick out a few of the goods the bakery had on offer: on the one hand, Beau’s keen sense of smell told him everything here would be delicious, and there were no bad choices. But on the other, making the choice in the first place was a challenge, since piling the bakery’s entire stock into the back of his car wasn’t an option.