“Are you okay?” Pete kneeled beside her, taking her head in his hands and examining her. He brushed her hair from her forehead and grimaced. “You’ve got a lump the size of a chocolate cream egg.”
“I’ll be fine.” Humiliation would do her in long before a bump on her head ever could. She hauled herself to her feet, being careful not to slip in the mess. “We have to catch the gremlin before he destroys the whole building.”
Pete tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the creature in question. “Are you sure that’s a gremlin? It looks like a raccoon to me.”
She followed his gaze and found, not the leathery green, toad-like creature she expected, but a furry, masked critter who was probably fluffy and cuddly when his fur wasn’t matted with frosting.
The raccoon used his tiny paws to wipe his face. He sniffed the green icing on his fingers and gave them a lick, his eyes widening as he nodded and continued to clean himself. He wiped his little snoot, and when his face was as clean as he could get it without a bath, he stood and waddled toward Pete.
“Mr. Hasen, sir. It’s so good to see you.” He bowed his head before turning to Destiny. “Ma’am.”
She stared at the creature and blinked. Raccoons couldn’t talk. Not in this realm, anyway. Squinting, she tried to read his aura, but with her magic bound, she couldn’t tell the difference between a demon and a dessert tray.
The critter was either enchanted by a witch or he was a fae. After all she’d been through, Destiny would put her money on the latter. She snatched the rolling pin she’d slipped on and held it toward him as threateningly as she could.
“Why did you destroy my bakery?” She moved to stand next to Pete, trying her damnedest not to slip again.
“I didn’t.” He picked a blob of frosting from his arm and flicked it to the floor. “Mr. Rabbit, you know I would never do something like this.”
“I do?” Pete’s face scrunched. “Who are you?”
The raccoon sighed, his posture slumping. “Eostre warned me you might not remember me. I’m Max, the leadelfenin your egg studio. You’ve known me for going on a thousand years.”
“A thousand years.” He continued staring at Max, no doubt trying to force the memory to surface.
Destiny waited fifteen seconds. When Pete didn’t have theah-hamoment he was searching for, she waved the rolling pin. “If you didn’t do this, who did?”
“It was Helga.” Max eyed Pete warily. “You remember her, right? The poultry thorn in your side?”
He shifted his gaze up and to the right as if someone in the ether might send the memories down to him. “Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t remember anything.”
“Who’s Helga?” Destiny loosened her grip on the rolling pin. Her ability to read auras and tap into the collective consciousness might be bound more tightly than a baby in a bunting, but she was still an excellent judge of character. Max seemed sincere, and the concerned expression on his fuzzy little face told her he meant no harm.
He combed more frosting from his fur. “May I borrow your sink?”
“Of course.” Where were her manners? “Right over here.”
Max walked on his hind legs to the sink and stood on his tippy toes, stretching both arms up toward the ledge. When he couldn’t reach, he tried one arm and then the other.
“Would you like some help?” Destiny asked. “I can lift you.”
He turned toward her. “That would be nice. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled softly and picked him up, placing him in the sink before turning on the water.
“Max,” Pete mumbled. “Helga. Didn’t Eostre say something about Helga?”
“Oh, yeah. That’s why the name sounds familiar.” Destiny handed Max the spray nozzle. “She said Helga offered to help. That her geese flock would lay the eggs.”
Max snorted and squeezed the sprayer, rinsing his face and chest. “Helga isn’t helping. She’s trying to take over.”
“To take over Easter?” Destiny wiped her hands on a dishtowel.
“Yep. Would you mind getting my back?” Max offered the sprayer. “She has all Pete’selfenlocked in the studio, and she’s forcing them to use stencils to paint the eggs.”
“Stencils?” Pete’s lip curled. “But then they’ll all look the same.”
“I know, sir. It’s a travesty.” Max turned around, and Destiny sprayed water on his back, using her fingers to work out the icing clumps.
