Shaking his head as if he could shake off the past, Caleb remembered why he was in this town and heading to fix an old lady's running toilet. He'd craved adventure, and when he'd turned eighteen, just like his friend, they'd joined the military. His friend had been human. He wasn't. He'd been an orphaned cub placed into the shit foster system in a world that thought they knew all about shifters. They didn't, and he didn't. Some adventure though. Here he was. No less complete, no more knowing what his life meant than he had as a lost teen.
Yeah. After all that, Caleb didn't need to date. Caleb didn't need change. He was good with Frank for a company; the adopted mutt was all he needed. The mastiff-mix gave him something, willpower to move forward, in his life.
The silence of the house, the town, settled around him as he headed to the toilet.
"Fine. Don't say anything. I can take a hint. But you can't stay single forever. You're breaking hearts in this tiny town of ours." The unofficial matchmaker shook her head. "Well, I'll let you be. The tea will be done shortly. You stay for tea, meet my guest, and then I'll pay you."
The floor creaked as she walked away. Caleb needed to get this job done and run away from whoever she wanted to set him up with now. At least he had a real excuse if nothing else worked. He needed to meet whoever was crazy enough to rent the old Lowenstein bed and breakfast. At least that might bring a little life back into town.
Taking a deep breath, he settled into the task in front of him. He couldn't deal with his issues, let alone a woman. At the end of the day, getting attached to things just set you up for loss. That was one pain he could control, and he intended to.
3
The moving truck rumbled to a halt. Marci double-checked the paper next to her and the GPS coordinates on her phone. For all the things she could do, directions were not one of them. Her senses fired. A static itch stronger than anything she'd ever felt racing across her like a drag race that didn't have an end. Okay, so she wasn't finished finding whatever it was she was supposed to, but she needed a break.
She furrowed her brow. The house in front of her wasn't exactly what she'd pictured.
"The ad might not have been recent. At least I don't think that shutter was dangling precariously in the photo." She tilted her head as if changing angles would change everything, including her perspective on life.
Slowly she sat up straight. Nope. It wasn't getting better. The dancing orbs around the house meant that it not only looked like the haunted mansion, but it was haunted. Not quite the HGTV Fixer Upper.
If I drove out here to solve a murder, I will lose it.
A light pecking on her hand brought her back to reality.
"Hazel . I'm not food. We need to work on your loyalty to me. If I died, do you think that someone would let you live this life? No, the second those eggs stop coming, you'd be dinner." Marci rolled her eyes. Well, she'd now just yelled at the one friend she had and threatened her life too. Great start. When had life become such a train wreck?
The noxious burn of her stomach had her wincing as her past resurfaced. All the courses on how to be a proper witch, etiquette for high society, and then she'd gone and opened up her own business. Marci regretted leaving that behind, but at the end of the day, it was just a thing. A place. She made that work; she could make this work. A lightning zap of energy shot through her, and there was little doubt that she was where she needed to be, for now.
Flexing her fingers, then her arms, she needed to get moving, get out of the truck and figure out her next step.
"Okay Hazel , let's go." The chicken went about pecking at the seat and then hopped down on the floor. The rhythmic bawk, cluck, cluck a comfort to the crazy she'd just ventured on. Or maybe it just fits the crazy. She smiled. Who saw this coming? For someone who found things for a living, she hadn't seen a chicken, a haunted house, or being alone, in her future.
"I wish I had your careless attitude."
Blowing out the longest breath she could before her lungs protested, Marci shook her head and yanked the handle of the truck door.
"I'm not sleeping in this truck with you roosting on my damn head again." She reached to pet Hazel , but the chicken was pecking at an empty chip bag. " She shook her head. "You're oddly the cutest chicken ever; you know that? Who's a good girl?" Her voice raised several octaves towards the end. She stared. The chicken raised its head with the bag over her. Marci figured if her clucking remained steady then the chicken was okay. She shrugged.
A creak echoed off the hills surrounding the town as she pushed the begrudging door open. Everything was quiet here, and that unnerved her. What could she possibly need to find here, what the hell did her magic want?
She swung her legs to the side and stayed there. Once she left the truck, that was it, she was here, and this was her reality.
"This is nothing like the city. Can you smell the pine, Hazel?" Glancing back, the chicken had escaped the bag and was back to pecking at a thread.
A picturesque, turquoise sky
