Page 70 of Chasing Stripes

“Later,” Bartek said quietly. “For now, we play our parts.”

The day progressed with surprising normalcy as Bartek found himself in the unexpected role of bakery assistant. He handled trays, rang up purchases, and tried to appear like he belonged among the sweets and pastries. In truth, every instinct remained on high alert, his senses constantly scanning for threats.

From time to time, his gaze drifted to Artemis as she worked—her confident movements, the light in her eyes as she explained a specialty pastry to a customer, the unconscious grace with which she brushed flour from her cheek. Pride swelled in his chest. His mate—for she truly was becoming that—possessed a strength that matched his own, though expressed differently.

By mid-afternoon, the bakery bustled with customers enjoying late lunches and early tea. Bartek had just finished carrying a heavy flour sack to the storage room when a strange prickling sensation crawled up his spine. The golden marks beneath his shirt began to burn uncomfortably.

Something was wrong.

A heartbeat later, chaos erupted. Enchanted cupcakes shot from their display case, floating and swirling in dizzying patterns. Sugar dispensers on each table erupted like miniature volcanoes. Magical measuring spoons danced across countertops, clanging like tiny cymbals. A display of color-changing cookies near the register began shifting hues at blinding speed, flashing rainbow colors that left afterimages.

“What’s happening?” Haavi shouted, ducking as a tray of enchanted donuts whizzed past his head.

Bartek’s eyes locked with Artemis across the room. She reached for him instinctively, her expression alarmed.

“It’s not me doing this!” she cried over the growing chaos.

Bartek pulled her protectively against his chest, scanning the room. “Someone’s tampering with the bakery’s magical foundation.”

Through the window, he spotted a hooded figure across the street, hands raised in intricate gestures. Customers screamed and laughed around them, some thinking it was a planned magical display, others diving under tables for protection.

“Keep everyone inside,” Bartek instructed Haavi. Then to Artemis: “I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful,” she warned, reluctant to let go of his hand.

SIXTY-TWO

The sensation burned—not painfully, but insistently, warning against separation. Bartek pushed through it, focusing on the figure across the street.

The moment he stepped onto the sidewalk, the hooded figure noticed him. They turned to flee, dropping something small and dark. Bartek sprinted after them, but a passing delivery truck cut off his pursuit. By the time the vehicle passed, the figure had vanished.

Cursing, Bartek returned to where the object had fallen. Another obsidian disk, similar to the one from the flour sack, lay on the ground. When he picked it up, it began to pulse with malevolent energy that sent uncomfortable waves through his mating mark.

Inside the bakery, the magical chaos suddenly intensified—pastries exploding in colorful bursts, tables levitating, chairs spinning wildly. Through the window, Bartek saw Artemis struggling to contain the magical overflow, her own powers responding unpredictably as golden light flared around her hands.

A young witch celebrating her birthday got caught in an explosion of magical cream and began to levitate uncontrollably toward the ceiling, triggering screams from other patrons. Haavi shifted partially, his features becoming more feline as he used his enhanced reflexes to catch falling display cases.

Artemis channeled her magic, anchoring the floating girl with visible effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you!”

Bartek pushed through the door, the disk still clutched in his hand. The moment he reentered the bakery with the object, all chaos stopped—as instantly as it had begun. Items dropped, magic dissipated, and an eerie silence fell. The bakery’s interior lay devastated—flour covered every surface, pastries smashed against walls, tables overturned.

“Everyone okay?” Bartek called, scanning the crowd while keeping the disk at arm’s length. His focus immediately went to Artemis, checking for any sign of injury.

The birthday girl, safely back on the ground, giggled with delight. “That was AWESOME! Can we do it again?”

Her mother looked distinctly less impressed. “I think we’ll take our celebration elsewhere.”

As customers filtered out, many thinking it was an elaborate show gone wrong, Artemis approached Bartek. Golden dust sprinkled her hair and smudged her cheek, but she appeared unharmed. Relief flooded through him.

“There’s something inside it,” she said, examining the disk he held. “I can sense it.”

“A message?” Bartek suggested, still checking the departing customers for injuries. His tiger’s protective instincts remained fully engaged, seeking any threat to his territory—which now firmly included this bakery and its proprietor.

When the last customer left, Tilly flipped the sign to “Closed” and locked the door. “I think we deserve an early day after that.”

They placed the disk on the counter between them, unsure what to expect. Like its predecessor, it began to spin of its own accord, emitting eerie violet light.

Before it could fully activate, the bell above the door jingled—someone with a council override key had entered despite the locked door. Bartek spun, ready to defend, only to recognize Selene Moonlace, the fae elder from the council.

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