Chapter One
Zoe
“So what did Julian blow up this time?” I call out as I enter Jewels Cafe.
I’ve got the Cleanly Den van parallel-parked outside, and all my cleaning supplies are ready to go. Not that I’ll even need them. When it comes to my bestie Amber’s mate, Julian, I usually only need magic.
I dust the snow off my parka and slip it off. With a flick of the wrist, I send it flying. It crosses the cafe, rounds the corner, and disappears into the back room. Then, it peeks back out to look at me.
Okay, fine. It’s a coat. It can’t look at anyone. But my magic makes it seem like it can. And the way it beckons my hat, scarf, and gloves over with one sleeve is pretty lifelike.
I grin as I watch my winter gear fly off. There may not be anyone else around to see my display of magic, but what’s the point of being a witch if you’re not having fun?
“Amber?” I raise my voice slightly and it echoes through the empty cafe.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee permeates the air, but I’m greeted with silence. Which is odd. Amber and Julian own the cafe, so they wouldn’t just leave without locking up. Plus, Amber texted me a panicked SOS half an hour ago, begging me to come over. I literally had to stop in the middle of teaching Snowball to play fetch. But unlike Julian’s latest mess, my pet fuzzy can wait. That and I love a good magical cleanup.
Being a maid may not be most people’s dream job, but it is mine. It’s fun. It’s exciting. And you never know what each day will bring.
Like last week, I found Riley Storm—the raptor shifter—stuck to the ceiling of Bob’s diner with maple syrup. And the week before that, when Rose hired me to clean the back rooms at Club Vee, I walked in on two half-naked guys. That and a floor coated with very questionable bodily fluids. Actually, that last part I could have done without.
There was also the time Julian got a bit too excited at Buttercup’s Bakery. Not the questionable bodily fluids kind of excited, thank the Goddess. He just couldn’t wait to get his hands on all the delicious treats and accidentally shattered the display. Thankfully, no one got hurt, unless you count the desserts. One chocolate cake had so much glass embedded in it, the poor thing resembled a hedgehog. It looked hilarious skating around the bakery on macaron legs, helping me herd shards of glass and massacred treats.
But magical messes don’t always involve actual cleaning. Last time Julian blasted a hole through the Spell Library door—yes, he’s done it more than once—I reformed the broken glass into snowflakes and hung them from the library’s high ceilings. People still drop by just to look at the display.
Which only goes to show that I have an amazing job. And that half the messes I clean up are caused by Julian’s wonky magic. If it weren’t for him, and his Wonky Magic Insurance, I’d be out of work. Or at least out half my rent money. Getting paid by the job does have its downsides.
I wipe my boots before stepping off the front mat. I may love cleaning, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to intentionally track snow in. Plus, as fun as it may be to get a mop duo to perform Swan Lake on Ice, I’ve got paid work to do. First, Julian’s latest mess, followed by a magical beer explosion that just happened at the Silver Steins Brewery. Oh, and an after-hours cleaning job at the Silver Skates Ice Rink later tonight.
“Amber?” I call out again. “Julian? Wes? Chase?”
All three guys are Amber’s mates. Come to think of it, she’s probably hooking up with one of them in the back room right now. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“I’m just going to make myself a Mood Tea while you guys finish up!” I grin, knowing full and well that my words won’t stop them. That’s mates for you. Can’t keep their hands off each other, even at times when they probably should.
Am I a little jealous? Sure. But do I want a mate or three of my own? Not so much. Relationships and I don’t mix.
I do love teasing Amber and her guys, though. They always get all flustered—especially Wes, who also happens to be my boss at the Cleanly Den. Twice the opportunity—and twice the fun.
Squeak!
I look for the source of the sound and gape at the barstool. Or, more specifically, at the tiny little mouse sitting on top of the barstool. It’s got its tiny little legs propped up on a tiny pillow and a tiny ice pack floats over its tiny little ankle.
Awwwww!
I take a step closer and peer at the adorable little creature. It waves a tiny little paw at me and then raises a tiny vial to its tiny lips for a slow sip.
Double awwww!
But also just a tiny bit weird, even for Silver Springs. Unless…
“Amber?”
The tiny mouse nods. Guess she’s not hooking up with one of her guys in the back room after all.
A few seconds later, she shifts back to human form. Her long, blonde hair spills over her pink sweater dress, and her black leggings are rolled up to reveal bare feet and one very swollen ankle.
The tiny pillow expands with her, so her feet are propped up on a neighboring barstool. Her ice pack grows too, and the Highway to Spells label tells me it’s infused with magic. Probably the non-melting, floating variety, since it stays pressed against her injury without Amber having to hold it.
“Zoe Wynter,” she exclaims, looking past me to the storm brewing outside. “Did you make it snow?”
“Course I did.” I wink, even though I’m no Jack Frost. “What happened to your ankle? It’s not broken, is it?”
“No. Just a mild sprain,” Amber says, and shifts into a Yeti. A very large, pot-bellied, male Yeti dressed in pink, fluffy boxers.
I snort.
Yeti Amber responds with a terrifying Yeti growl.
I ignore it and take a seat next to her. By kicking off my boots and levitating crosslegged a few inches above the barstool, of course. And I don’t mean the same one occupied by Amber’s large, hairy, Yeti feet—gross—but the one next to it.
Does floating like this in mid-air take a lot of concentration? Sure. Is it totally worth it? Definitely.
“Julian spelled my skates,” Yeti Amber says, not batting an eye at my display. Then again, she’s mated to a guy with wonky magic, so what’s a little levitation?
“Shouldn’t he know better by now? I mean, after all the times his magic goes wrong?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” Yeti Amber growls. “Ember was at the rink training and I thought if I shifted into her I’d be able to do some figure skating tricks, too.”
“And you couldn’t?”
“Nope. Which is why Julian decided to throw in a bit of magic. Except…” She shrugs her Yeti shoulders and gestures at her ankle. Then she takes another sip from her vial and shifts into a troll. A very familiar-looking troll in a police uniform.
“You know that shifting into your sister’s mate is the equivalent of incest, right?” I say just to mess with her.
“Is not!” Troll Amber lets out a growl that rivals the Yeti’s and then some.
I barely contain a laugh.
If it was any other angry troll, I would back the hell away. Magic or not. I’ve got a healthy sense of self-preservation, thank you very much. But Troll Amber would never hurt me, and I would never hurt her.