It was early enough in the morning that darkness still stretched across the land. A quick glance at the clock made me blink. Five a.m. Holy crap. Why was I up so early?
I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom to mark the places I’d need to have Moira extract glass from, but when I examined myself in the mirror, my skin was smooth and unmarred.
“What the hell?” I breathed. Moving my body to the left and right, I lifted my arms, then my legs, then got a hand mirror to look closer, but there was nothing. No glass to be found anywhere.
Bemused, I turned on the shower and got ready for the day. Getting to the shop early was a good thing. I could clean up theworst of the damage before the other shop owners got to work and started asking too many questions.
Filledwith caffeine and half-stale scones, I pulled up to my shop less than forty-five minutes later, lucky enough to get a spot right by my front door. Ash and the others usually got here before I did, so ninety percent of the time I had to park at least a block away. Being the owner, I could push it and insist on a front parking spot, but the exercise was good for me, and downtown parking came at a premium.
I grabbed my travel mug and got out of the car, not paying attention until I turned to walk inside and saw...nothing.
No evidence of any damage existed. A brand-new window complete with the exact hand drawn logo I had before was in the place where the shattered window had been last night.
I stood on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. All the glass on the sidewalk had been cleaned up, and the shattered pots were replaced, the greenery from before carefully re-planted. My heart sped up, thudding painfully in my chest.
I opened the shop door and peered inside, sending my senses out to see if anyone else was in the shop, but there was only me. Bewildered, I hurried inside and set my purse down on the register desk, then inspected the shop.
Every stray piece of glass had been collected, every broken pot repaired, though some of the plants were seriously damaged, and I’d have to see if I could nurse them back to health later this morning. The wooden work table was still broken down the middle, though someone had hastily repaired it with duct tape.
Another repaired potted plant sat on top of the surface. Multiple shelves were repaired the same way, a couple of them lopsided enough to concern me. I thought for sure I’d be shut down for several days, but all I needed to do was move someshelves and plants to the back and replace the table, which, all things considered, wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be when I got up this morning.
I loved the work table, but I was still alive. One of those things was more important than the other. Shaking my head at the odd turn my morning had taken, I made a cup of coffee and went over to the work table to see if it was truly beyond repair. The plant was stressed but better than it was last night, but when I moved the pot, I spotted a folded piece of paper underneath.
When I picked it up, a familiar scent rose. My heartbeat spiked as I unfolded the note.
I did what I could. You have a new table on order with the same dimensions and material, and several replacement shelves are scheduled for delivery today. I cannot apologize for what happened because an apology will never be enough to repair the damage, both material and immaterial. I’d like to speak with you soon. If you allow it.
The note was signed simply:Caelan.
I sank down into the chair next to the table and stared at the paper. Hating him would be much easier than feeling whatever I felt. He’d come back sometime after I’d left, after sending the police away, and did his best to repair the damage that he caused.
As much as I wanted to pretend I was innocent, I’d knowingly pushed his buttons because he pissed me off.
Ugh. Being a grown-up was so ridiculous sometimes. Folding the note carefully, I tucked it into my back pocket and chewed the side of my lip as I pondered what to do. When my mind stayed blank, I tried to push the Shifter Lord from my thoughts and focused on my shop.
My shop was here and inanimate, and I didn’t have to do anything other than some clean up. The plants were a different story, but most of them should be okay.
So that’s what I did. The work table wasn’t steady enough to balance all the plants I needed to heal, so I pushed it into the back and pulled out a large fold-up table. The shop wasn’t scheduled to open for several hours, so I topped off my coffee and got to work.
Magic buzzedagainst my skin as I worked. Two hours in and most of the plants were on their way to being good as new, and I had a ton of cuttings to start. As I worked, I whispered apologies, telling them I was dumb to do what I did and that, while they didn’t deserve what happened to them, I might have.
Of course, my plants were loyal, and they vehemently disagreed with my low opinion of myself, which made me smile. Once all the plants were fixed, I went to the back for seedling pots, rooting hormone, and potting soil, then got to work making new plant babies.
An hour before the shop was scheduled to open, a large van parked in front of the shop and two burly men hopped out. One, a massive blond guy with muscles for days, knocked on the shop door. When he spotted me through the window, he waved and pointed at his van.
“We have shelves for you, courtesy of the Shifter Lord. Mind if we drop them inside?”
Would there be a price for accepting these? If I opened the door, was this one more crack in my resolve to keep Caelan away? I couldn’t open the shop with the janky ones I had now. Maybe I could set them up and send Caelan a check.
“Miss Quinn?” the man said, his brow furrowing.
Yes. I’d write him a check for everything. Resolved, I opened the door.
The man presented a clipboard. “If you wouldn’t mind signing for everything, we’ll bring them in, get them set up, and remove your damaged shelves.”
I scanned the paper, but there were no prices listed. “How much are the shelves?” I asked, glancing up.
He blinked. “Err. I was instructed not to say, ma’am.”
