“What?” Dominick frowns.
“Didn’t you say you noticed something that seemed unusual?”
“Yes?”
“Well, what was it?”
“Nothing.” Dominick runs his hand through his hair. “I was exposed to the magic in yesterday’s explosion.”
“And that was the reason you didn’t want me touching any of the spilled beer?”
“Yes.” He hesitates, gritting his teeth.
“You think that has something to do with the robbery?”
“Yes.” Dominick lets out a frustrated sigh. It’s clear he doesn’t want to have to explain himself. “I can’t say the opposite of yes,” he finally says.
“So you can’t say no?”
“Yes. It’s temporary, I think. Either way, I need to fix it and quick before my brothers find out.”
The door bursts open again, interrupting him. I spin around, my heart leaping at the thought of seeing Ghost, but a small girl with long hair rushes into the brewery with one of Dominick’s brothers.
“Daddy!”
“Avery, what are you doing here?” Dominick asks, crouching down to open his arms as his daughter rushes into them.
“Uncle Holden said I could have ice cream!” she says, as if that somehow answers her father’s question.
“He did, did he?” Dominick’s eyes narrow on his brother.
Holden shrugs and then winks at me. I’ve run into him several times before, and he’s always been a notorious flirt, so I grin back.
“Did anyone get hurt?” Holden asks, looking around in concern.
“Y—”
“No,” I cut Dominick off before he can say yes—for the gazillionth time—and give his secret away. “No one was hurt.”
“Oh, good.” Holden releases a sigh, and Dominick quickly takes the opportunity to fill him in on everything that’s happened. I guess before the guy can ask any more yes or no questions.
I take out my phone to jot down some notes, but I don’t get any new information. Nothing that tells me who Mini might be working with. Or who the thief could be on the off chance the witch isn’t involved.
Dominick’s just getting to the part where he came in this morning, and nothing looked out of place—at least not until he opened that safe—when Liam and Bert rejoined us. And they do not look happy.
“Zoe, we need to talk,” he tells me. And just when I think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, he adds, “The shops at the Silver Skates Ice Rink got robbed last night, and it has come to our attention that you were there.”
Chapter Nine
Zoe
Liam questions me about the rink and then asks if I’d be willing to do a walk-through of all the places I cleaned. See if anything looks out of place.
I follow the squad car to Silver Skates in my van. Liam pulls into a spot not too far from where I parked last night, and just like that, I’m back to thinking about Leith. How one second, everything was perfect, and the next, he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Just like Ghost.
I push the painful feelings away and follow Liam and Bert across the rink. No one knows who the owner of the rink is, so we go talk to the manager, Whittaker, instead. He’s tall, blond and ruggedly handsome—though definitely not my type. After Leith and Ghost, I doubt anyone will ever compare.
Whittaker’s bright violet eyes are full of worry as he talks about the thefts. He shoots me suspicious glances a few times, and though he doesn’t say anything aloud, it makes me worry about the Cleanly Den’s contract with the rink.
When we’re done, we do a walk-through of my cleaning route, starting at the Triple E, the rink-side coffee shop. Absolutely nothing looks out of place—minus the money Eirlys, the owner, tells us got taken from the register. Twenty-three bucks.
Liam asks her a few questions while Bert jots down notes. I listen in, but my mind is racing the entire time. I unlocked the shop door with the master key and locked it behind me while I cleaned. And I definitely locked up after I left. So it doesn’t make any sense how someone could have snuck in.
I’m still mulling over it as I follow Liam and Bert to the Merch store, and then to Bitchen’ Baubles. We step inside the winter-themed silver jewelry store, and spot Thora, the owner, talking to a man who’s entirely underdressed for mid-winter.
He’s hot, in a nerdy sort of way—tall, with dark brown hair and black, square glasses. And he’s wearing a thin-looking jacket, unzipped to reveal a thin collared shirt. No sweater or scarf in sight.
“I unlocked the shop this morning, and a few Silver Skates pendants were gone,” Thora tells him, snapping the rubber band around her wrist. “What kind of asshole would do something like that?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” the man says as he taps something on his phone. Then he glances our way and our eyes meet.
The moment he sees me, his jaw drops, and he fumbles with his phone. Almost drops it, too, but Thora’s reflexes are top-notch because she catches it and tries to hand it back. But he’s too busy staring at me.
Fiery ice blue magic connects us. The same magic that connected me to Leith. And Ghost.
I don’t think I can take this again. Opening myself up to a man. Spilling my heart out. And then getting it crushed. So I do the only thing I can do. I run.
I spin around and slam into a uniformed chest. Liam’s, who’s a troll and built like a freaking wall. I let out a loud oof and back away, but he’s blocking the doorway, and there’s no other escape.
“Is everything all right?” he asks, confusion and suspicion warring on his face. Not that I blame him. I literally just tried to run from the scene of the crime.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I spin around to face my mate, my cheeks flushed. And when our eyes connect again, he gives me a shy, sweet smile.
There’s something in that smile. Like he understands. Like he’s trying to tell me everything’s going to be okay.
“I’m Xavi,” he tells me, and his voice, it’s like that smile. Shy. Sweet. Soft.
“Xavi is a journalist. For the Herald,” Thora chimes in. “He was just asking me some questions.”
“The Herald?” I swallow hard. Partly because I’m still off-balance. Partly because the paper’s investigating the robberies—which means that soon, the entire town will find out.
“I’m Zoelle Wynter. Zoe. I work for the Cleanly Den.”
“I know,” he says, and then his cheeks flush. He looks past me—at the officers, no, at the door—like maybe he wants to run, too.
Liam clears his throat. Maybe to get our attention. Maybe as a pointed reminder that no one is going anywhere. Maybe both.
“I think we’ll take it from here,” he says, after exchanging a look with Bert. Then he glances at me and narrows his eyes, like he thinks the scary troll look will get me to confess.
I shoot him a cheerful smile instead. Which isn’t easy to do while I’m processing the fact that I suddenly have three mates. Two of whom rejected me, and one who looks ready to flee.
“Zoe, was there anyone around when you came in to clean Bitchen’ Baubles?” he asks. And though he says it with a straight face, hearing the serious, uniformed troll say the word “bitchen’” makes me want to laugh.