Page 3 of Chasing Stripes

“Which is...”

“Tooth & Claw.” Tilly gestured vaguely toward the front of the shop. “The bar across the street. It’s opening soon.”

Something in her aunt’s too-casual tone made Artemis suspicious. “And that’s a problem because...”

“Oh, not a problem, per se.” Tilly stirred her tea with exaggerated concentration. “Just interesting. It’s owned by a tiger shifter. An alpha, no less.”

The word “alpha” sent an unexpected shiver down Artemis’s spine. “A tiger shifter? Taking up residence in the Borderlands?”

“Mm-hmm. Not that I’ve properly met him yet.” Tilly sipped her tea. “But between us, I hear he’s quite...” She paused, clearly searching for the perfect word. “...impressive.”

The emphasis made Artemis raise an eyebrow. “Tilly, are you matchmaking already? I’ve been in town for all of thirty minutes.”

“Can you blame an old woman for hoping?” Tilly didn’t even attempt to look innocent. “This town could use some excitement, and a handsome alpha moving in across from my beautiful niece seems like fate’s way of spicing up the place.”

“I’m here to save the bakery, not find a date,” Artemis reminded her, though she couldn’t help but smile at her aunt’s transparent meddling.

“Who says you can’t do both?” Tilly winked, then pushed herself to her feet with a small groan. “Now, let me show you what we’re working with. The kitchen equipment has seen better days, but it’s got character. Like me.”

For the next hour, Tilly guided Artemis through the bakery, pointing out what needed repair, replacement, or simply a good cleaning. Artemis mentally calculated costs as the list grew longer with each room they examined. The industrial ovens worked but wasted energy. The display refrigerator clanked alarmingly. The storage room looked like a tornado had hit a flour warehouse.

“And up here is where you’ll stay,” Tilly said finally, leading Artemis up a narrow staircase to the apartment above the bakery.

The living quarters surprised her—not with its size, which was modest, but with how well-preserved it was compared to the bakery below. A bedroom with a patchwork quilt on the bed, a kitchenette with dated but functional appliances, and a sitting area where colorful crocheted blankets adorned a comfortable-looking sofa. It smelled of cinnamon and old books—a comforting combination.

“I’ve been keeping it ready,” Tilly explained, straightening a throw pillow unnecessarily. “Just in case you ever wanted to visit. Or stay.”

The simple statement—so free of judgment or pressure—made Artemis’s throat tight.

“I live just down the street now in that little cottage by the creek,” Tilly continued. “Thought you might appreciate having your own space. Your parents’ things are in those boxes in the corner. I couldn’t... well, I couldn’t bring myself to go through them.”

THREE

The sight of the cardboard boxes made Artemis’s chest constrict. “Thank you for keeping them. For keeping everything.”

“Of course, sweet pea.” Tilly patted her shoulder. “Now, how about we head back downstairs for some lunch? I want to hear all about your city adventures, and I’m sure you want to know who’s dating whom and which supernatural has been causing mischief lately.”

Back downstairs, they settled at a small table near the front window with sandwiches Tilly had prepared earlier. From this vantage point, Artemis had a clear view of the establishment across the street.

Tooth & Claw looked nothing like the weathered Honeycrisp Bakery. Its facade was sleek and modern with dark wood and gleaming metal accents. String lights crisscrossed above an outdoor seating area, and the sign—featuring an artistic blend of claw marks and elegant lettering—looked professionally designed. Even from here, Artemis could sense protective wards humming around the building—not aggressive, but definitely meant to discourage troublemakers.

“Quite the operation, isn’t it?” Tilly remarked, following her gaze. “From what I hear, it’s part of a small chain. This is their newest location.”

“It looks...” Artemis searched for a diplomatic word.

“Expensive?” Tilly supplied.

“I was going to say ‘corporate,’ but expensive works.”

“Oh, I expect it was. But apparently, this Bartek Arbor has quite deep pockets.” Tilly’s eyes twinkled. “Did I mention his name earlier? I can’t recall.”

“You didn’t, and you know it.” Artemis rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible at feigning innocence.”

“Bartek Arbor,” Tilly repeated, ignoring the accusation. “I hear he’s from the Western Mountain Tigris Pride. Very prestigious. Very old money.”

The name sent an unexpected warmth across Artemis’s skin like sunshine breaking through clouds. Her fae magic stirred within her, a gentle rustle of awareness that made the hairs on her arms stand up.

“How do you know all this if you haven’t met him?” she asked, trying to dismiss the sensation.

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