Page 55 of Monsters in Love

I stick my tongue out at her. She knows why I left seven years ago without a backward glance. But she might also have a point about not letting Chad chase me away from a town I used to love. I meant what I said: it was dumb to let him win, but I only figured that out recently.

“Thanks,” I say, tucking the card into a pocket. “I don’t know how I could even afford to renovate, but it’s good to have options. I plan to head to the bank tomorrow to see if a loan is even feasible.”

“Lauriel works there,” Haven says. “I’ll tell her to expect you.”

At that moment, Oaklyn brings back our fritters, and I take an absent-minded bite, mind still on the mess that is my new home. But my focus is quickly shifted to the flaky pastry and apple-cinnamon sweetness in my mouth.

“Ohmygod,” I mutter around a mouthful of decadence.

“I know,” Haven says smugly. “Like I said, Oaklyn makes good stuff, including great pie when she takes a turn at the ovens. But the real secret is that the owner of this place is an incredible baker. She won’t cop to it, but I’m positive she has some siren in her somewhere. There’s no other explanation for how alluring her foods are. She has to be infusing them with magic, whether she means to or not. I can practically smell it.” She sniffs her fritter before nodding and taking a big bite.

I’d actually believe that. No matter how many generations her family has been intermarrying with humans, or how diluted her blood is, the elf in Haven is strong. From the piercing features to the pointy ears to her devotion to the magical town her ancestors founded, it just runs through her. If anyone could smell magical shenanigans, it would be her, even if she is mostly human.

“Who is this magical baker?” I ask. “I might need to make her my new best friend.”

Haven leans in conspiratorially, elbows on the table, totally unthreatened at the idea of losing her BFF status. “Her name is Libra Cartwright, and she’s a bit of a mystery.”

I raise an eyebrow at that. Nobody remains a mystery where Haven is concerned. She’s a freaking bloodhound.

“Came to town a couple years ago, opened the best bakery on the planet, and barely talks to anyone other than Oaklyn and the other employees. Keeps to herself, exercises a lot, rides a motorcycle. An interesting mix of tough-girl exterior and like…I dunno, somebody’s grandma.” Haven shrugs her slim shoulders.

“Wait until you try her applesauce donuts. And her pumpkin bread should be a sin, but she only makes it in the fall, so you have to stick around if you want to experience that particular mouthgasm.”

I’m a sucker for all things pumpkin, and she knows it. She’s dangling it like a carrot to make me stay and it might work. If I were a horse, anyway. I’m not a particular fan of carrots, but the metaphor stands. Good pumpkin bread is worth a lot of hassle in my book. And it could be fun to celebrate Mabon at Mabon Manor—get the place all decked out for autumn. I could follow that up with a Samhain celebration. Hmm.

“So,” Haven says, setting down her fritter. “Backtrack a minute. Celeste left you the manor, instead of your mom? What’s that about?”

I cock an eyebrow at her. She knows my mother. “Of course. Aunt Celeste was ancient, but she wasn’t senile. She knew better than to expect Mom to do anything with the property.”

Haven grins. “Howisyour mom?”

I roll my eyes. “Same as ever. Last I heard, she was on a tropical cruise somewhere with her three boy toys in tow.”

“Boy toys?”

I nod. “Mm-hmm. I think they’re around our age. Don’t get me wrong, she looks great for 54, but I think she’s a little old to be gallivanting around the world with a stable of stallions.”

“I don’t know, I think she might be my role model.” Haven waggles her brows and I snort.

“I can’t think of two people with less in common than you and Linnaea Winslow.”

“Don’t count on it,” Haven says. “You haven’t seen me in seven years. Maybe I’ve changed.”

“Sure. You’re totally the type to shrug off all sense of responsibility, blow where the wind takes you, and dance naked under the moon as you assume ‘the goddess will take care of all things.’” I put the last part in air quotes.

Haven chuckles. “Fine, you got me. I pay all my bills and never go anywhere. And as I mentioned, the mayor roped me into one hell of a town improvement project, because he knows I’m responsible, so I won’t be hopping on a cruise ship anytime soon.” She huffs a tiny sigh, the closest Haven ever really gets to complaining.

“The mayor, huh? Who exactly is that these days?” Her family has always run Haven’s Hollow, so it’s not as weird as it sounds that the mayor randomly assigned her some massive project. I have no doubt they’re related.

“My cousin Griffin. He has some ideas about increased tourism that are actually pretty good. Stuff involving the lake.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” The lake is the lifeblood of Haven’s Hollow, and the town is rife with lore about it. It’s supposedly the source of the magic that drew so many of our ancestors here generations ago, and that still pulls magical folk here now and again. You don’t see many pure elves or pixies or anything these days, but the stories say they used to live in the woods and mountains around the water.

Plenty of the residents here, while all primarily human, have a little something extra in their blood. It doesn’t apply to my ancestors—the witches came here from Europe—but a large part of the population of Haven’s Hollow has a tiny trace of magic in their backgrounds, no matter how faint, like the elf lineage in Haven. According to stories Celeste told me, there even used to be ceremonies honoring the town’s magical ancestors, but those seem to have become a thing of the past. It’s kind of a shame, because I bet that could be a tourist draw.

Anyway, I think the once had an official name—I’m sure Haven would know—but I’ve only ever heard it called Lake Eerie, a joke that stuck around long enough that everyone just calls it that now. It’s fitting; there have been rumors for years that the lake is haunted. I’ve never seen ghosts there, but that doesn’t mean anything. Eerie is huge, settled in the lap of the mountains and surrounded by a forest. Who knows what could lurk there?

“I live there now, you know,” Haven says.

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