Page 53 of Chasing Stripes

Rust organized the growing crowd of concerned neighbors and council security with efficient commands. “I need a perimeter established. Evidence collection team. Witness statements.”

As the mayor directed official proceedings, Kalyna arrived clutching an ancient leather-bound tome.

“I ran straight to the library when I felt the magic spike,” she explained breathlessly to Bartek. “These are soul-tether marks according to the Fae Codex.”

FORTY-FIVE

“Soul-tether?” Bartek questioned, still maintaining physical contact with Artemis. He found he couldn’t bear to move more than inches from her.

Kalyna knelt beside them, paging through the book. “A rare bond between powerful supernatural beings. It means your magic—or in your case, shifter essence—recognizes a perfect complement in another.”

She pointed to an illustration showing handprint-like marks similar to theirs. “These attackers chose exactly the wrong moment to target Artemis. They likely planned to magically bind her to someone else?—”

“Someone else?” The growl that escaped Bartek surprised even him.

“Easy,” Kalyna soothed. “That’s impossible now. The soul-tether prevented it. That’s why their binding spell failed.”

Thora approached, pushing the captured attacker ahead of her. “This one says they were hired through multiple intermediaries. Claims they only needed to ‘weaken the fae enough to secure a contract.’“

The captive wore plain, dark clothing beneath the hood. A tattoo on their wrist—a circle containing unfamiliar symbols—caught Bartek’s attention.

“Who hired you?” he demanded.

The prisoner kept their eyes down. “We never meet clients directly. Payment comes through magical channels.”

“Get them to council headquarters for questioning,” Rust ordered. “Full magical screening.”

Bartek stood slowly, helping Artemis to her feet while supporting her weight. Her wince of pain as she tried to put pressure on her ankle drove a spike through his heart.

“Let me,” he murmured, lifting her carefully into his arms. The need to care for her, to personally ensure her comfort, overwhelmed his usual professional detachment.

Tilly appeared at his elbow. “Take her to the back office—there’s a sofa where she can rest. I’ll bring healing supplies.”

“I’ve got her,” Bartek said, perhaps more possessively than he’d intended.

Tilly’s eyebrows rose, but her lips curved in approval. “Of course, you do, dear. That’s exactly as it should be.”

He carried Artemis through the bakery to the small office in the rear. The comforting scents of cinnamon and vanilla wrapped around them, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. He settled her gently on the worn but comfortable sofa.

“I can get you up the stairs,” he offered, suddenly unsure. The battle fury had receded, leaving him questioning his presumptions. “Or call someone to stay with you.”

Artemis caught his hand. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

The words sent relief coursing through him. “Never,” he promised.

Tilly bustled in with a tray of supplies—bandages, herbal pastes, a steaming mug of something fragrant.

“Healing tea,” she explained, setting it on the side table. “Now, let me see that ankle properly.”

As Tilly worked, humming under her breath, Gloria and Hudson arrived. Bartek heard his mother’s distinctive voice in the bakery, questioning Haavi about details. Her concern warmed him—not for himself, but for how readily she included Artemis in her protective circle.

“The binding attempt actually accelerated your soul-tether,” Tilly explained as she wrapped Artemis’s ankle in a bandage infused with healing herbs. “Usually these bonds take weeks or months to form fully, but danger can catalyze the process.”

“Will it... fade?” Artemis asked, glancing at Bartek.

“Soul-tethers don’t fade, dear,” Tilly smiled. “They’re among the oldest and most powerful magics. Not forced—they can’t exist without genuine compatibility—but once established, they’re remarkably resilient.”

“Even between different species?” Bartek asked.

---