Page 24 of The Mating Magic
The shop rang with harmony and peace, or it once did, anyway. Lacey looked around, trying to summon her usual optimism. Hard to do when your sister was off trying to coax a giant flying egotistical power beacon into wading into monster-infected swamp waters and your rent was due, along with dozens of otherbills.
Ever since the older dragon had given her the Book of Shadows, her troubles seemed to have increased. And yet the ancient book sang to her, not with promises of riches and power the seller declared it held, but something deeper and moremeaningful.
Something she had not felt in a longtime.
She unlocked a cabinet where all her personal papers were kept and rummaged through the carefully arranged boxes until finding a tattered cardboard box decorated withseashells.
Not even Evie knew of this box, nor itscontents.
Lacey opened the lid and withdrew a faded photograph of a 14-year-old giggling girl and a smiling woman, arms around eachother.
That had been the best day, a full day at the beach together, laughing, talking, splashing in the water. The best day, right after her mother rescued her from the foster home where she and Evie hadlived.
The best day before finances got tight and disease ravaged the woman’sbody.
“Mom, I miss you,” she whispered. “Why did you have todie?”
Guilt riddled her. Her mother had run the shop for years with Lacey’s help. In the end, nothing, not the plethora of herbs nor the healing crystals, had saved her. Nothing, despite all Lacey’s attempts to find a cure for the wasting sickness that left her once-healthy mother a bag of bones with sunkencheeks.
To honor dragon tradition, she’d burned her body, scattered her mother’s ashes to thesky.
To honor Skin tradition, she planted a tree in memory of her mother, next to the one she’d planted for the father she’d never met, who’d died before Lacey’sbirth.
No use fretting about the past. Lacey tucked away the box and began searching the shelves for the driedlilies.
Toenails clicked on the hardwood floor. Smiling Lacey turned around. “Ready fordinner?”
The dog barked and wagged its tail. Still unsure of what breed, for it was medium-sized, with wiry fur and a happy air, she’d settled for calling him Lucky. Every night for the past six months the stray dog had shown up at the back door and she’d fed him. Finally when the weather turned unusually cold, she’d brought him into the shop, building him a doggie door so he could let himself out at night as heneeded.
Lucky followed Lacey to the back room as she grabbed a plastic container filled with dog food and a steelbowl.
“Do you always take in strays?” a deep, amused voiceasked.
Lacey froze, the dog bowl shaking in her trembling hands. She knew this disembodied voice. Summoning all her courage, she turnedaround.
Drust sat on an empty counter, swinging his long legs. Swallowing hard, she carefully set down thebowl.
“Only when they need it.” She focused on pouring the food into thebowl.
Lucky loped over to the wizard, lifting his head and wagging his tail hopefully. To her shock the wizard bent down and scratched behind hisears.
“Dogs are wonderful,” hemurmured.
The dragon wizard liked …dogs?
Maybe somewhere beneath all that blue velvet beat aheart.
“Disobedient dragons like you, on the other hand, challenge mypatience.”
Or maybenot.
“You’ll get the potion back.” In one form or another. “I’m afraid I misplaced it, which is one reason why I’m searching the shop. If you’ll excuse me, I have to feed Luckyfirst.”
“Lucky?” Drust arched a black eyebrow. “Fortunatename.”
Ha. She didn’t darelaugh.
“That’s what I named him. I don’t know his real name, or what his former owners called him. He turned up outside the shop one day and I adopted him.” Lacey finished pouring kibble into the bowl. Lucky began gulping down hisdinner.
