Page 2 of Marked By Moonlight
Oh shit.
I sprinted over, desperately trying to keep myself masked. A damn good thing no one was around to notice the details I lost track of in my rush, like my footsteps in the grass or the shadow I cast.
“Mina! Yoo-hoo,” Madame Fontaine hollered when fake me didn’t turn.
I made a mental note to try more realistic, moving illusions in the future — if I ever worked up the nerve to try this again. Because damn, was I cutting it close.
At the last possible second, I jumped into the space occupied by the illusionary me and released the spell.
Madame Fontaine did a double take, and I winced. I hadn’t resumed exactly the same position, making my image skip like a badly edited video.
“Ohbonjour, madame,” I panted.
Her brow furrowed. “Are you all right, dear?”
I nodded quickly. “Fine, thank you. I guess my mind was somewhere else.”
My body, too, but no need to mentionthat.
Glancing at the war memorial, she patted my hand. “It’s good to know young people still remember their sacrifice.”
I often did, but my motives today were entirely selfish, making me feel terribly guilty. I made a mental note to lay a wreath the next time Armistice Day came around.
“It’s so sad,” I said, and I meant it.
She patted my hand again. “All we can do to honor their memory is to make the best of the time we’ve been gifted with.”
Her wise words prompted another round of soul-searching. Was I doing my best with the time I’d been gifted? Shouldn’t teaching fifth graders rank higher than renovating a crumbling building and carrying on with a dragon shifter I might not have a future with? Or was it just as important to hold true to my heart and my family’s legacy?
A legacy that involved magic. Was I a fool to play with fire, or was I justified in trying to rekindle it?
Berating myself for anotherme, me, memoment, I silently read the names on the war memorial. Then I took a deep breath and offered Madame Fontaine my elbow.
“Does a trip to theboulangeriequalify as making the best of the time we’ve been gifted?”
She chuckled and stood, wrapping her arm around mine. “Always. Especially when there are éclairs involved.”
Off we went, arm in arm, and for the first time, I felt she and I had something in common other than both being teachers and residing in the same peaceful corner of Burgundy.
“It’s so lovely to have young people back in town,” Madame Fontaine said along the way. “You…Clement…”
She meant my childhood buddy turned local hottie/police officer/overprotective wolf shifter. A man I loved like a brother, but only as a brother.
She didn’t exactly waggle her eyebrows, butWhy on earth aren’t you two already married?came through loud and clear.
“It’s lovely to be back in town,” I said diplomatically.
That also saved me from trying to explain how Marius’s soulful eyes and gritty determination more than made up for his slightly sketchy background. She would never understand anyway.
I endured another few minutes of hinting and matchmaking, but the éclair was worth it. And, oh! The splitting headache that always plagued me after magic-making had dissipated already.
I said my goodbyes and walked back to my car, making a mental note to always, always follow up magic practice with a pastry. For mental health purposes.
Then my phone rang, and I lit up in anticipation of a call from Marius. Was his mission finished? Was he safe? Was he on his way home to me?
I yanked my phone out of my pocket and hurried to my car, heart pounding in giddy elation.
Chapter Two
