of booted feet, accompanied by the gentle pad of heavy paws. Then they rounded a corner and came into view: Duke—a huge, fluffy beast who claimed to be a dog but was clearly part bear—and Duke’s human. Rae.
She wandered closer, more tugged along by Duke than actually walking, her dark eyes distant as she stared into space. She was dreaming up stories, as always, and this one must’ve been good, because she had a crooked little smile on her face. The left side of her mouth tilted up; the right side barely moved. He’d always assumed that had something to do with the three dark scars that swept across her temple, over her cheek, and along her jaw.
And, speaking of cheeks—hers were reddened beneath the brown sugar of her skin, as was the tip of her nose. She wasn’t wearing a big, wool coat like Callie; just jeans and a jacket way too thin for this early spring morning. She was cold. He never did like to see Rae cold.
So he called, “Hey. Would it kill you to put on a scarf, or something?”
She blinked, focusing on him. Deep smile lines fanned from the corners of her tip-tilted eyes, and a corresponding warmth flared inside his chest. “Piss off, Davis,” she said cheerfully. “You’re practically naked, yourself.”
“Don’t act like you’re complaining.” He paused, just to enjoy the hell out of her derisive snort. “Anyway, I spent all morning in a forge. What’s your excuse?”
She was beside him now, only the bricks between them. Her arms rested alongside his, just like Callie’s had, but she didn’t touch. “There’s nothing wrong with my outfit, you unrepentant nag. I’m supposed to be the old lady around here.”
“Old lady.” He rolled his eyes, indignant. “Shut up.”
Duke chose that moment to rise up on his hind legs and give Zach some love over the wall, his tongue lolling happily. His tiny, teddy bear eyes twinkled like dots of midnight. He might as well have said, I’m here too, you know.
“Morning, mate.” Zach sank his hands wrist-deep into thick, chestnut fur.
“Shameless,” Rae muttered. “He’s absolutely throwing himself at you. Where’s your pride, Duke?”
“Don’t ask, don’t get,” Zach said.
She gave a low, dry chuckle that was music to his ears. Rae never took him seriously. It was his favourite thing about her.
And his second favourite thing—the reason he’d hung about waiting for her and made himself late—was her mind. By which he meant, obviously, her stories. “You got anymore drama for me?” His tone was hopeful, almost wheedling, but he didn’t really care. It had been days since the last installment; he wanted to know what was going on in Rae’s fantasy world of witchcraft and betrayal.
But she shook her head, frowning slightly. “Nothing new today. Sorry.” She sighed, and the worry in her voice pricked something protective in him. “This book isn’t coming easy.”
He’d never heard her say that before. Of course, they weren’t exactly life-long friends: his brother’s girlfriend had introduced them last summer, which felt like forever ago, but wasn’t. Still, the idea of his daydreamer struggling with stories seemed… wrong.
He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes like clues might be written beneath her skin. He didn’t find anything, but for a moment, he caught her scent on the breeze: lemon and sugar pancakes. Zach breathed deeper. He loved pancakes. “Writer’s block?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t believe in writer’s block.”
For some reason—maybe the prim way she said it—he chuckled. She was so fucking cute, sometimes, and she didn’t even know it.
She tutted at his laughter, pointing a finger at him. “Positive words, positive mind! Or… something. My dad used to say that. Don’t call it writer’s block, is my point. You’ll jinx me.”
“Sure, yeah.” The words might be more convincing if he could stop laughing.
“Oh, shut up. Someone should get you a muzzle. I should get you a muzzle. What do you think, Duke?” She looked down at her mammoth dog, whose head was level with her waist. And Rae wasn’t a small woman.
“Duke would never muzzle me,” Zach said.
“Don’t be so sure,” she replied archly.
Duke gave Zach a beady stare that seemed to say, I am a loyal hound who will support his mistress in any endeavour.
Zach rolled his lips inwards and contented himself with a smile. “So, what are you gonna do about your not-writer’s-block?”
“I don’t know. Sacrifice a goat?”
“Wow. Harsh.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. My mind is anchored on dull, boring Earth, and I really don’t like it here.” She