Page 12 of Grin and Bear It

“Looks like someone threw up a Disney movie,” Thora grumbled, though she couldn’t entirely suppress a flicker of curiosity. She’d visited plenty of paranormal communities in her bounty hunting career, but never one so... unabashedly magical.

She guided her bike down the main street, drawing curious glances from locals. Unlike the suspicious stares she typically received in paranormal enclaves, these looks held open interest, even welcome. Several people actually waved.

“Newcomer?” called a man sweeping outside a shop labeledFang & Claw Butchery—Specialty Cuts for Every Species.

Thora nodded curtly, uncomfortable with the friendly attention.

“Market setup’s got Main Street blocked,” he added helpfully. “Take Moonstone Lane if you’re heading to the town square.”

“Thanks,” she replied, surprised by the unsolicited assistance.

Following his directions, she turned down a side street lined with cherry trees whose blossoms fell in gentle swirls despite it being nowhere near spring. At the end of the lane, she found a small parking area and cut the engine.

The sudden silence accentuated the town’s ambient sounds—cheerful conversations, occasional bursts of laughter, distant music with an otherworldly quality. No sirens, no horns honking, none of the aggressive undercurrent typical of larger cities.

Thora dismounted, stretching her back after the long ride. Her leather jacket creaked as she moved, the comforting sound grounding her in the unfamiliar environment. She secured her helmet to the bike and ran fingers through her dark hair, loosening the braided section that kept it out of her face during rides.

Retrieving her backpack, she mentally reviewed what she knew about her target. Ajax Blackwater—thief, con artist, rumored to possess unusual shifting abilities. The photo Clemmins had provided showed only the back of a dark-haired head, next to useless for identification purposes. But the bounty—fifty thousand dollars—spoke volumes about how badly someone wanted him found.

She slung the pack over her shoulder and headed toward the town square where the Monthly Moonlight Market preparations were in full swing. The sounds of hammering, shouted instructions, and occasional bursts of magical energy grew louder as she approached.

The square itself opened before her like a scene from a storybook. Cobblestones worn smooth by centuries ofuse formed intricate patterns beneath her boots. Lampposts wrapped with twisted metal vines housed glass orbs that contained dancing flames in various colors. At the center stood a fountain where water flowed upward in defiance of gravity before cascading down the sides of a sculpture depicting various shifter forms in mid-transformation.

All around the perimeter, vendors erected booths and arranged displays. A wolf shifter carefully hung hand-carved wooden figures—bears, foxes, wolves, and other creatures—from delicate chains. Nearby, a woman with butterfly wings sprouting from her back arranged bottles of shimmering liquid on velvet-lined shelves. Further on, a pair of identical redheaded twins levitated a banner reading “Monthly Moonlight Market—Two Days Away!” into position above the square’s main entrance.

Thora scanned the activity with a hunter’s methodical attention. Three main exits from the square; the clock tower would make an excellent vantage point; several narrow alleys offered potential ambush locations. Old habits impossible to break even in this seemingly benign setting.

She circled the perimeter, observing the locals while projecting casual interest. Her amber eyes, distinctive of her sabertooth heritage, cataloged faces and body language, searching for anyone matching her target’s description or exhibiting the furtive behavior typical of a fugitive.

Instead, she found only cheerful industriousness. A group of wolf shifters coordinated to raise a large wooden platform, their movements synchronized with pack precision. A witch—identifiable by the faint purple glow around her fingertips—enchanted paper lanterns to hover at perfect intervals along a string.

Near the fountain, a child with faintly luminous skin chased another whose fingers sparked with harmless magical fire, theirlaughter echoing across the square. No one seemed bothered by their exuberant display of power.

“First time in Enchanted Falls?”

FOURTEEN

Thora turned to find a teenage girl with fox ears poking through her auburn hair, offering a tray of pastry samples.

“Is it that obvious?” Thora asked.

“You’ve got that ‘trying not to look impressed’ expression,” the girl replied with a knowing smile. “Everyone has it their first day. Care for a moon cake? Mom infuses them with calming magic—helps with the adjustment to our town’s energy field.”

Thora hesitated, then took one of the small, crescent-shaped pastries. “Thanks.”

“I’m Melody Foxworthy,” the girl offered. “If you need directions or anything, most folks around here are happy to help.”

Before Thora could respond, a voice called from one of the nearby stalls. “Melody! Stop bothering the newcomer and help with these display cases!”

“Coming, Mom!” Melody rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Enjoy your stay!” She darted off, fox tail swishing beneath her skirt.

Thora bit into the moon cake, surprised by the burst of flavor—honey and something else, something that sent a gentle waveof warmth through her limbs. The subtle magic didn’t attempt to manipulate her emotions, merely soothed the edge of her travel fatigue.

Not bad.

She continued her circuit of the square, taking in details that might prove useful later. The locals moved with the ease of those secure in their territory, their conversations peppered with references to clan gatherings, council decisions, and market preparations.

“We’ll need extra protection runes this time,” a bearded man said to his companion as they unloaded boxes from a cart. “After what happened at the last market...”

---