"Yeah," he said finally. "I can handle it."
"Excellent." Varric's smile suggested he was pleased by more than just Luka's professional cooperation. "Begin immediately. Miss Carrow's research may hold the key to understanding what we're dealing with, but she'll need protection while she pursues it."
"And if she objects to being watched over?"
"Then you'll need to be more subtle than usual," Miriam said with amusement. "I suspect Miss Carrow is too intelligent not to realize she's stirred up forces beyond her normal experience. She may welcome assistance, even if she's too stubborn to ask for it directly."
The meeting dispersed with the usual formal courtesies, leaving Luka alone in the ancient clearing with orders that both thrilled and terrified him. Watching over Leenah meant proximity, conversation, opportunities to learn more about the woman who'd managed to capture his bear's attention so completely.
It also meant fighting his protective instincts every time she walked into danger, respecting her independence while being ready to intervene if needed. Threading the needle between offering help and being overbearing.
The most difficult assignment he'd ever been given, and the one he wanted most to succeed at.
His bear rumbled approval as he made his way back toward town, already planning the best approaches to Leenah's cottage that would allow him to monitor her safety without making herfeel like she was under surveillance. This was going to require finesse, patience, and more self-control than he'd needed since arriving in Hollow Oak twelve years ago.
But if it meant keeping her safe while she unraveled whatever supernatural mystery she'd stumbled into, he'd find a way to make it work.
8
LEENAH
By ten o'clock the next morning, Leenah had reached her breaking point. She'd managed exactly three hours of sleep between supernatural disturbances, her cottage felt like a supernatural highway with spirits coming and going at will, and Minerva had taken to hiding under the bed and refusing to come out except for food.
Time to call in reinforcements of the caffeinated variety.
The Griddle & Grind occupied a converted Victorian house on Main Street, its wraparound porch decorated with carved pumpkins and autumn wreaths that looked festive despite the late November chill. Warm light spilled from the windows, along with the comforting scents of cinnamon, coffee, and whatever magical pastries Twyla Honeytree was baking this morning.
The bell above the door chimed as Leenah pushed inside, immediately enveloped by heat that felt like a physical embrace after her cottage's supernatural cold spots. A handful of early customers occupied the mismatched tables—Edgar Tansley from the Hollow Mercantile reading a newspaper while demolishing what looked like a slice of apple pie, and Mrs.Henderson complaining loudly to anyone who'd listen about her poodle's latest escape attempts.
"Well, well," came Twyla's melodic voice from behind the counter. "Look what the spirits dragged in."
Leenah winced at the too-accurate observation. Twyla Honeytree looked barely thirty despite being old enough to remember Hollow Oak's founding families personally, her wheat-colored hair catching the light and her soft brown eyes sparkling with amusement and ancient wisdom. Her fae blood showed in subtle ways, like the otherworldly beauty, the way shadows seemed to bend around her, and the uncanny ability to know everyone's business before they did.
"Coffee," Leenah said by way of greeting, slumping onto a stool at the counter. "The strongest you've got, and keep it coming."
"Rough night?" Twyla asked, already reaching for the industrial-strength blend she kept for supernatural emergencies.
"You could say that." Leenah accepted the steaming mug gratefully, wrapping her hands around the ceramic warmth. "My cottage has apparently become Grand Central Station for restless spirits, and I'm starting to think I might be in over my head."
"Mmm." Twyla leaned against the counter, studying Leenah's face with the kind of penetrating attention that made most people uncomfortable. "Heard there was some excitement at the cemetery yesterday morning. Something about manifesting spirits and a certain handsome carpenter coming to the rescue?"
Heat crept up Leenah's neck. Of course Twyla had heard about Luka's appearance at the cemetery. The woman probably knew what they'd had for breakfast and how many times they'd thought about each other since parting ways.
"It wasn't a rescue," Leenah said firmly. "I had everything under control."
"Oh, I'm sure you did, sweetie." Twyla's tone suggested she was humoring her. "But sometimes it's nice to have backup, don't you think? Especially when that backup comes in such an appealing package."
"I don't know what you're implying?—"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating outright that Luka Ashe is a good man who's been alone too long, and you're a smart woman who's forgotten what it feels like to have someone genuinely care about her wellbeing." Twyla refilled Leenah's mug without being asked. "Sometimes the universe gives us exactly what we need, even when we're too stubborn to realize we need it."
Leenah nearly choked on her coffee. "Did you just suggest the universe is trying to set me up?"
"Stranger things have happened in Hollow Oak." Twyla's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Besides, you didn't come here just for coffee and conversation. You want information about the spiritual disturbances, and you're hoping I might have some insight from the town's collective memory bank."
The abrupt subject change was both relief and frustration. Twyla's matchmaking instincts were legendary, but so was her knowledge of Hollow Oak's supernatural history. If anyone knew what Leenah was dealing with, it would be the fae café owner who'd been watching over the town longer than most people realized.
"Have you seen anything like this before?" Leenah asked. "Spirits manifesting in broad daylight, supernatural activity spreading throughout town, temperatures fluctuating for no reason?"
