Chapter 8

“He said what?!” Sylvie said, staring at Gale in outrage. “He said it was all him?! Why, that – that –”

For the first time in her life, Sylvie wished she was better at swearing. As it was, though, anything more than a damn or an asshole made her blush, and neither of those exactly came easily to her either!

“I know,” Gale said, nodding and looking frustrated. “He didn’t really say anything, well, incriminating, for lack of a better word. But he’d have to be pretty bad at stealing things if he just went around announcing it to anyone who showed an interest.”

“No, of course not,” Sylvie replied, subdued. She dipped one of her fries in ketchup. “He’s not exactly going to be like Thanks, I’m glad you like my cake, it’s totally stolen by the way.”

Gale laughed, the sound rich and deep, and despite herself, Sylvie felt her mood improving. She was still angry, but the sound of Gale’s laugh at least took the sting out of her fury.

“So what should we do now?” Sylvie asked, after she’d eaten a few more fries. Eula’s food was as good as it always was, and she had to admit, eating always cheered her up at least a little bit too. “Since we can’t exactly expect him to just admit anything.”

“No, we can’t,” Gale admitted. “But I’ve gotten a decent look at him now, and I know he’s a shifter. So that’s a start, I suppose.”

“Mmm.” Sylvie took a sip of her root beer. “But if we could, I dunno, somehow catch him in the act or something like that…”

“I guess we don’t know how he’s doing it, though,” Gale said. “You said he’s never come into your shop?”

“No, never.” Sylvie shook her head. “But I guess perhaps he could be sending someone else over to buy my products and somehow figure out my recipes from eating them. Maybe he’s a shifter type with a very refined palate, or something.”

“That’s a good point,” Gale said. “He could have an accomplice.”

“It’s possible.” Sylvie said, mulling it over. “Though they’d have to be a regular, and I’d probably notice someone coming back repeatedly. And it wouldn’t explain how he knows about stuff I haven’t even started selling yet.”

“True,” Gale admitted. “But since there’s no way he could be getting inside information, since like you said, you completely trust Emily, then it’s something we should consider.”

Sylvie nodded. “All right. So let’s say you’re right, and he has an accomplice who’s coming in and buying things and ferreting them back to him. How do we trick them into revealing themselves?”

“Well, I had an idea about that,” Gale said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “It might be a little bit of work, but if you don’t mind, I think it has a shot of working.”

Intrigued, Sylvie leaned forward, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Do go on,” she said.

Gale grinned. “Well, it seems to me like we have two possibilities for how he’s going about this: one, he’s some kind of shifter who’s sneaking into your bakery. Two, he has an accomplice – or maybe several accomplices – who come in to scope out your shop. I think we should prepare for both possibilities.”

“Okay. Makes sense.” Sylvie nodded.

Gale leaned forward slightly. “So I guess my next question is – does Girdwood Springs have any kind of decent hardware store?”

Blinking, Sylvie nodded, not certain where Gale was going with this – until, suddenly it hit her. She grinned. “Yeah – Big Al’s has just about everything we’d need. Come on. Let’s go shopping.”

Forty-five minutes later and they were back at Sylvie’s bakery, loaded down with all the no-kill pest control traps they could buy at Big Al’s Hardware.

“Do you really think this’ll work?” Sylvie asked, as she laid out some sticky strips on her counter. “I mean, if they’re a shifter…”

“It depends,” Gale said. “Some shifters find their animal instincts take over once they’re in animal form, especially shifters who turn into regular things like cats, dogs, raccoons, mice, that kind of thing. So if we make the bait tempting enough, it may temporarily be enough to make them forget to watch out for things like this.” He ducked under some of the fly strips that Sylvie had hung up trying to catch the fly that had been buzzing around her shop a few days ago. “I guess you already have any aerial attacks taken care of!”

Sylvie laughed. “Well, I’ve been catching gnats in those things and throwing them away – uh, you don’t think he’s a gnat shifter, do you?”

“Well, once they’re caught, I assume whoever it is would shift back into human form in order to free themselves,” Gale said, joining her laughter. “I doubt they’d let themselves get tossed in the trash. So then we’ll have our answer about their identity.”

Sylvie nodded, as she put some delicious pieces of dried fruit down next to the sticky strips. “Well, they’ll definitely be easier to spot then.”

“Let’s hope so,” Gale laughed, before he became serious once more. “But I really have to say, this is still a long shot, Sylvie.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Sylvie said, turning to him. “But it’s better than nothing, right? And we still have our other plan, right?”

“I guess so.” Gale stepped toward her, slipping his arms around her sides. “I’m not sure if anything will come of it, though.”

“We can only try.” Leaning forward, Sylvie rested her head on Gale’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“And if it doesn’t, we’ll find another way,” Gale said, a warm edge entering his voice. “I swear, Sylvie, I won’t let him steal any more of your recipes – and especially not your grandmother’s honey cake recipe. That’s yours. She gave it to you. I won’t let him steal it.”

Sylvie closed her eyes, letting herself be enveloped by the warmth of Gale’s arms around her, listening to the beat of his heart by her ear.

“I know you won’t, Gale. I know.”

The next morning, Sylvie was ready.

She was opening, so she was up bright and early, back on her usual schedule, preparing the day’s goods. She’d been grumpy about that for the first time in her life, since it had meant she hadn’t been able to stay up all night with Gale – but even so, they hadn’t been able to hold themselves back from indulging just a little, she thought with a tiny, slightly wicked smile, as she recalled the evening before.

But a baker’s work is never done. Sylvie covered her mouth as she yawned, her breath puffing out in white clouds in the chilly fall morning air.

All right. Let’s get started. First, I lay out the bait.

Despite Gale not seeming too confident about it yesterday, she still thought Gale’s idea was a good one – or at least, the best they had. She definitely couldn’t march into the local police station and tell them that some guy was turning into a mouse – or whatever – and stealing her recipes, so they would just have to figure this out for themselves. She still felt the cold clutch of anger in her gut at the thought that he might have stolen her grandmother’s honey cake recipe.

She forced herself to tamp down on it, though. There’d be time for anger later. Right now, she had work to do.

Right now, she had to reel Johnson in, and try to tempt him to expose himself.

She opened up her simple sandwich board sign, crouching down to write across it in chalk in as large lettering as it would accommodate: Special coming soon – a mystery! Come in for a sneak preview.

Sylvie couldn’t say she necessarily would be tempted by the idea of mystery cake, but the idea of it was fun, and she could see how appealing it might be for kids.

She had something ready for it, but it was an older recipe she hadn’t had in rotation for a few months now, from before Johnson had opened up: custard tarts with sugared violets. Ordinarily, it’d be very hard to get violets at short notice in the middle of fall, but…

But ordinarily I wouldn’t have a unicorn on call.

Sylvie couldn’t hold back her smile as she recalled the way Gale had brought some violets that were only just clinging on to life in the cold weather back from the grave, coaxing them into full bloom with nothing but a touch of his fingers.

Taking a deep breath, she put the sandwich board out as far as she could on the sidewalk, where it was sure to be visible from Johnson’s Pies and Bakery.

And then, trying to look as casual as possible, she sauntered back into her bakery.

Now, she thought, let’s see who drops by.

For the rest of the day, Sylvie made sure she took a careful note of all the customers who came through her store.

As she suspected, it wasn’t exactly difficult – most people went straight past her relatively inconspicuous shop to Johnson’s Pies and Bakery. But she did get a reasonable amount of foot traffic, mainly from parents with children who were intrigued by the promise of a mystery.

“Would you like to take a guess at what it is?” Sylvie asked one boy playfully, after he’d tugged his mother into the bakery by the hand, saying he wanted to try the mystery cake.

“Um. Is it chocolate?” the boy asked, eyes huge.

“It can be – we have three flavors available,” Sylvie said. She glanced at the mother, who smiled at her and nodded. She had glasses and long blonde hair pulled back in a bun, looking exactly like a parent on vacation.

I think they’re innocent,Sylvie thought as she selected a chocolate custard tart, with a sugared violet placed in its center. Johnson might be unscrupulous, but she couldn’t suspect a mother with her child of being in on his schemes!

She mainly noted the people who came in by themselves down in her memory: Guy, 30s, bike shorts, dark hair. Lady, red hair cut short, green skirt. Distinguished gentleman, looks like he drinks wine in his spare time, nice shoes. White-haired grandma with a knitted cardigan….

She was pretty sure she’d never seen any of these people before, but naturally, she couldn’t possibly remember every person who’d ever set foot in her shop, even with business being so slow for the past little while.

Toward closing time, Sylvie heard her phone buzz, and since there were no customers, she picked it up to read the message that had just arrived.

Johnson hasn’t been here all day, but he’s just pulled up outside now, in a VERY expensive car,she read. Of course it was from Gale – he’d been checking Johnson’s place out from a sensible distance.

Sylvie bit her lip. Did that mean Johnson had come to find out what exactly her mystery cakes were all about? Was he meeting up with someone who’d been in here today – or was it something else?

Ok,she texted back quickly. It’s only fifteen mins till close, and there’s no one here. I can come meet u.

Sure thing,Gale texted back after a moment. You know where I am.

Ordinarily, it would take Sylvie quite some time to do a full close by herself – there were leftovers to be packed away, equipment to be cleaned, benches to be wiped, chairs to be stacked, and a till to be reconciled. But right now, she knew she had to hurry – who knew what Johnson was up to right now? She could take care of all the bits and bobs of closing later, once she’d gone to meet up with Gale!

Hurrying, she yanked off her apron and flung her jacket over her shoulders, only just remembering to turn off the lights as she hurried out the back door.

It didn’t take much time of scurrying through Girdwood Springs’ quiet residential backways for Sylvie to get to where Gale was waiting for her. She’d spent her entire childhood here, after all, and there was no part of the town she didn’t know like the back of her hand.

She could see why Gale had chosen this spot – it was in a park a little down the road from Johnson’s Pies and Bakery, but there was enough cover that he could duck behind something if he thought someone might have clocked him. But most importantly, you could see almost everything and everyone in the bakery itself through its huge front windows, as well as the parking lot.

Sylvie whistled quietly through her teeth when she saw a swanky-looking black car parked by the building – that had to be Johnson’s, she realized, and Gale hadn’t been joking about it being expensive.

“You haven’t been cold standing out here all day?” Sylvie asked Gale when she reached him where he was standing by a large oak tree. “I was a little worried, and you’re not even that warmly dressed!”

Gale shook his head with a smile. “No – thankfully cold doesn’t really bother me. It’s a shifter thing, I think. I could be out here in shirtsleeves and it wouldn’t be a problem, but it’s better to at least try to blend in.”

Sylvie decided that, at some later time, she was going to have to quiz Gale more fully about the extent of his shifter powers and abilities. So he can grow flowers with a single touch, he can turn into a unicorn, he doesn’t feel the cold…and I’m pretty sure I can add ‘massively increased strength and stamina’ to that list as well, she thought, feeling her cheeks pinken a little as she recalled the last couple of nights they’d spent together.

Time for that later, Sylvie! Mind on the job!

Blinking, she focused her attention on Johnson’s Pies and Bakery. “So, see anything suspicious?”

Gale shook his head. “No – I think he must be closing. All his staff have left for the day. He’s the only one there now, unless one of his staff walks to work. But I haven’t seen anyone else in there for a while.”

“So I guess we didn’t succeed in luring him after all,” Sylvie said, disappointed. “Maybe he’s not that interested in mystery cake, or he thinks he has enough for now.”

“Maybe so,” Gale said, frowning. “But still, I want to give it a few more minutes. It could be he’s waiting for someone.”

But it seemed that wasn’t the case. A minute later, and Johnson himself came strolling out of his shop, locking the door behind him. Sylvie felt new disappointment swell up inside her – at least until she noticed that Johnson wasn’t going to his car.

“Do you think he might be going somewhere else for his meeting?” Sylvie asked as Johnson strolled off down the road, the early fall twilight already darkening around him.

“Could be,” Gale said. “But you know most of the shop owners around here, don’t you? Knowing the problems you’ve been having, they would have told you if he was meeting with someone, wouldn’t they?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Sylvie said, nodding. “So maybe he’s off to… a secret location?”

Part of her had to admit she was just a little bit excited. This reminded her of all the Nancy Drew books she used to read when she was a kid – all this sneaking around, trying to solve a mystery.

Which is great, but it’s my livelihood and everything I’ve worked for on the line here!

“Should we… follow him?” she whispered, glancing at Gale.

“Can’t hurt, I suppose.” Gale turned his head to look at her. “Are you actually having fun with this?”

“I’m trying not to!” Sylvie said with a soft laugh. “This is serious!”

Gale let out his own little laugh. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand in his large, warm one. “Let’s go.”

Together, they snuck out of the park. The residential road ran parallel to the main street, and she and Gale hurried along it until they got to one of the small connecting streets that ran between the businesses. Sylvie peeped out around the side of a building, and saw Johnson’s broad back as he continued to amble his way along the street. At this time of night there weren’t many people out and about, and the street was pretty much clear. There was no one for them to blend in with if Johnson happened to turn around.

“He’s still there,” Sylvie whispered. “Let’s go. Maybe we can cross to the other side of the street. Maybe we can keep him in sight from over there.”

They crossed the road, dawdling along as if they were looking at shop displays while keeping one eye on Johnson. At least until he suddenly veered off the street and into the line of trees at the end of the main group of shops.

“Uh-oh – we lost him,” Sylvie said. “I think he went into the trees.”

“Quick, we can find him again if we hurry,” Gale said, tugging her hand.

But it seemed they couldn’t – despite the fact that there was no path through the trees and it couldn’t have been more than two minutes later, there was absolutely no sign of Johnson whatsoever.

“I guess we really did lose him,” Sylvie said, grimacing. “And I was kind of having fun, too. But I guess like you said, he’s a shifter. Maybe he turned into… whatever he is. Maybe he’s a bird, and he flew away.”

“It’s possible,” Gale said, nodding. “If you’re a bird or a forest creature, I guess that kind of thing is just normal for you. I tend to forget sometimes – I have to be so careful when I shift. I could never do it so close to humans. Your backyard excepted, I suppose.”

Sylvie laughed, though it was a little sadly. “Yeah – I’ll bet. A bird where there wasn’t one a moment before, I guess you can say maybe your eyes tricked you. But a whole unicorn? That’s a bit more difficult to explain away.”

“I’m sorry, Sylvie,” Gale said, shaking his head. “But I promise we’ll find a way to stop this – if it didn’t work this time, we can do it another time. This was just our opening gambit.”

“It’s okay.” Sylvie looked up at him, smiling despite her disappointment. She squeezed his hand. “Please don’t worry about it. Like you said, there’ll be other chances.” She sighed. After all this excitement, she wasn’t really looking forward to returning to her mundane task of closing up her bakery. “But I should go get some stuff sorted out back at the shop. Would you like to come with me? I could use some company!”

“Of course,” Gale said warmly, and together, they began making their way back down the street toward the bakery.

As they walked, Sylvie’s disappointment began to dissipate. It was hard to feel too downhearted with Gale by her side, even if they still hadn’t managed to find a way to trick Johnson into revealing how he was finding out about her recipes.

“If he’s a bird, I suppose he could… hover outside my bakery window or something,” Sylvie said meditatively, following the train of her own thoughts. “Maybe that’s how he’s doing it.”

“I suppose he could,” Gale said. “But do you think you’d notice a bird staring directly through your window? Or flying into your shop?”

“I probably would,” Sylvie admitted. “But you said there are mice shifters… though I’m sure I’d notice a mouse, too! I keep a very clean shop, I’d never let mice in.”

“Not normal mice, no,” Gale said. “I’m sure of that. But this mouse would have had slightly different goals to your average mouse.”

Sylvie laughed, getting her keys out of her pocket as they made their way between the shops to the back of her bakery. “True. Hmmm. Still, I wonder what he could be, though. You really can’t tell just by looking at him?”

“Unfortunately not,” Gale said, shaking his head. “He could be literally anything.” Sylvie unlocked the door, and together they entered the back room of the bakery. “A mouse, a dog, a griffin, a –”

Gale’s words cut off abruptly. Sylvie glanced up at him, then turned to follow his wide-eyed, somewhat horrified gaze, in time to see –

A – wait, what is that?!

Whatever it was, it was changing shape fast – it had started as a weird, strangely lumpy black shape hovering in mid-air. But as she watched, it started to look distinctly more – well, more man-shaped.

A man who, when her heart-pounding shock had worn off, she recognized.

“Johnson?” Gale blurted out, confirming her own thought.

Sylvie’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes felt like they were bugging out of her head as she stared at Johnson, crouched on the floor of her bakery in front of them, his expression half-sheepish, half-panicked… and with a piece of fly paper stuck fast to his shoulder.

Wait, Sylvie thought, her mind whirring. Wait, does this mean Johnson is a –

“You’re a fly shifter?!” Gale said, once again completing her thought so she didn’t have to. Which was probably for the best, since she wasn’t sure she could have brought herself to think the words fly shifter.

Johnson’s eyes moved to Gale’s face, and immediately his expression changed from one of panic and embarrassment to, unbelievably, indignation.

“Hey, I remember you,” he cried, lifting a hand to jab his finger accusingly in Gale’s direction. “You came into my shop earlier! You said you were going to write a review – were you just spying on me?”

“Who the hell are you to get angry about someone spying on you!” Sylvie burst out, her outrage momentarily overcoming both her sense of how strange this situation was and her decorum. “You’ve just been caught red-handed in the middle of breaking into my shop! To spy! Is this what you’ve been doing the whole time?! Sneaking in here and looking at my notes and recipes?!”

Sylvie would have stridden across the room to shake her finger in Johnson’s face if Gale’s hand hadn’t come gently down on her shoulder, restraining her.

Johnson at least immediately became more subdued, looking down, with what might have been some actual shame crossing his face.

“It’s not like that,” he said petulantly after a moment. “You don’t know what kind of pressure I’m under.”

Sylvie stared at him, still furious. What kind of pressure?! What the hell is he talking about?!

“I think you’d better explain yourself properly, starting from the beginning,” Gale said, his voice low and dangerous. “You know it’s illegal for shifters to use their powers to commit crimes. And you know we have our own penalties for that kind of thing.”

Sylvie glanced at him, pricked by curiosity despite the fact she was still almost out of her mind with anger at Johnson. Does he mean… shifter law? With their own shifter police? Shifter lawyers? Shifter jails?!

She supposed that made sense. A human jail would be useless against someone like Johnson: he’d just shift and fly out the door the moment he had a chance.

Shaking her head, Sylvie decided these were questions for another time. Right now, she couldn’t wait to hear exactly what Johnson was going to say to try to justify himself.

“Can I get up off the floor?” Johnson asked, his tone still petulant. “It’s cold down here.”

Gale glanced across at Sylvie, clearly waiting for her lead. Sylvie frowned, but finally she decided there was no sense in them all hanging around in the back room.

“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “We can go sit down out there. But then, you’re telling me everything.”

Johnson nodded, pulling himself up off the floor. Thankfully, it seemed like Gale wasn’t the only one who kept his clothes when he shifted. One day, she’d have to ask him how that worked – though she’d have to ask him about how pretty much everything worked, she supposed.

She pointed to one of the chairs in her dining area. “Sit,” she commanded Johnson. “And then talk. Why have you been stealing all my recipes? And how many times have you… you flown in here and invaded my privacy like this?”

Thatwas the other thing, Sylvie thought, a shiver running down her spine. Not only had Johnson stolen from her, he’d buzzed around in here when she and Emily had thought they’d been alone. It wasn’t like she showered or got changed here or anything like that, but it was still an invasion of privacy. Sylvie found her fury only growing stronger.

“Only two or three times,” Johnson said slowly once he’d seated himself. “Not many, I swear – only enough to look through your recipe notes a couple of times. I didn’t… see anything, and I didn’t touch anything else.”

Next to her, Sylvie felt Gale bristling. “You’d better be telling the truth about that,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “or believe me, the cops are going to be the last thing you have to worry about.”

Johnson nodded vigorously, eyes wide. “No – no, I swear it. I was only interested in the recipes. I didn’t even think about anything else!”

Sylvie narrowed her eyes. Of course she didn’t know if Johnson was telling the whole truth, but she didn’t live here. The worst Johnson could have seen was her and Emily gossiping about something silly, or her spending a little too much time in front of the mirror wondering if she should try to actually wear some makeup beyond a little concealer, before deciding that she wasn’t going to get up any earlier than she did already for the sake of her vanity.

“It’s okay,” she said, turning to Gale and putting her hand over his. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

Gale gazed into her eyes for a moment, before nodding. He still didn’t look happy, but he was clearly willing to drop it if she wanted him to.

And right now, Sylvie was way more steamed up over his theft of her recipes than of him possibly seeing her doing some embarrassing mirror-pouting.

“All right – you wanted the chance to explain, Johnson,” she said, crossing her arms and sitting back in her chair. “So explain.”

Johnson sighed, dropping his eyes. “All right. Well. For starters, my name isn’t actually Johnson. That was just… you know, to sound homey and regular Joe-like for the sign. It’s actually Odilon. Gareth Odilon.”

Sylvie blinked. “Odilon? Why does that name sound kind of familiar?”

“Because his family’s a big deal in the restaurant business,” Gale supplied, nodding and looking with narrowed eyes at… well, Gareth Odilon, apparently. “More than kind of. His family own more restaurants and hotels than I can poke a stick at. This guy’s about as far from an average Joe as you can get.”

“All right, all right,” Odilon snapped. “I get it, all right? My family’s rich – I know, all right? Everyone knows! Not like it’s ever helped me! I still have to prove I can run a business all by myself before I’m allowed to do anything with the family’s restaurants!”

Sylvie had to resist the urge to shake her head. “What are you talking about?” she asked – though she was starting to get the slightest suspicion that she already knew.

“It’s what we all have to do,” Odilon said glumly, receding after his outburst. “Go out and start a new food business from scratch, and prove we can run it at a profit for two years. If we can’t do that, we can’t enter the family business. So that’s what my bakery is. That’s what I’m trying to do, after my other one didn’t work out.”

“Your other one?” Gale asked. “You already have one failed bakery somewhere else?”

“It’s hard to run a bakery!” Odilon said, throwing up his hands. “You have to hire staff! I ended up just asking my friends from college who wanted to have some fun and put it down as community service on their resume. I didn’t have time to read all the applications people sent in. Plus, the cost of materials… and then you have to think of things to bake…”

Sylvie stared at him, aware her mouth was hanging open but unable to help it. “So… you’re just… lazy? That’s why you did it?”

Odilon’s head snapped up. “Obviously I’m not lazy!” he carped. “I just didn’t realize it was so much work. And then I kept getting shitty reviews online, saying my stuff was no good or my pies tasted bad… that was why the first one I tried went under. It wasn’t my fault, it was the reviews!”

Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Sylvie resisted the urge to explain to him that if his products had been better, his reviews would have been good. She already knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“So I decided things were going to be different this time around,” Odilon said firmly. “I tried new stuff with this one – but people kept saying they liked your bakery better. They kept saying your stuff tasted nicer, or something. But if this business failed as well, my dad said I’d have to come home and do more training. I can’t face him if this one fails too – you don’t know what he’s like, his expectations are always so high.”

Odilon looked so miserable as he said these last words that Sylvie could almost begin to feel sorry for him. Almost. But not quite.

“But… why did you think it would be okay to do that to my business?” she asked, still not quite able to understand it. “I’ve worked so hard to build it – and worked hard on my recipes, too. Didn’t you realize it was wrong?”

“I was desperate,” Odilon said, not lifting his head. “And after my two years were up, I was planning on shutting the place down anyway. You could have come back then.”

Again, Sylvie had to wonder if Odilon was living in the real world. Just come back? As if having to close her shop wouldn’t have completely ruined her financially? She’d never get another loan to start another business again! Maybe Odilon just really didn’t get it, if he’d always lived a life where money was no object?

She wondered if it was worth trying to explain any of this to him.

Probably not,she thought, staring at his sulking, pouting face.

“Don’t you think,” Gale said after a moment, “that if your businesses can’t succeed without you resorting to stealing my mate’s ideas, that you could do with returning home to get more training?”

His voice was still low and angry, but it was obvious he was trying to talk sense to Odilon – if he would hear it.

“I know I can do it, though,” Odilon started to say, before Gale cut him off with a shake of his head.

“No, you can’t – not if this is how you react to setbacks, by stealing and trying to sabotage other, better businesses. Is that what you’d do if something didn’t work out once you’re working for your family business? Do you think your father would look kindly on that?”

Odilon scowled. “You don’t know anything about my father.”

Gale’s face hardened. “I do, actually – I’ve worked in one of his restaurants. I was the chef there, so we got to know each other pretty well when I was developing a new menu for him. You’re right when you say he has high expectations and that he’s a tough boss. But he’s also scrupulous. I don’t think he’d like to hear about what you’ve been up to here.”

Immediately, Odilon’s head shot up. “You – you know my father? You have his number?”

“Yeah, I do,” Gale said, nodding. “He’s one of the few shifters who works in the restaurant business, so we bonded a bit over that. I’m pretty sure he’d remember me if I gave him a call.”

A look of fear entered Odilon’s eyes. “If you gave him a call?”

“To tell him about how you used your shifter powers to break into another bakery, steal my mate’s hard work, and then pretend it was your own. I don’t think he’d enjoy that story. Do you?”

Sylvie glanced at Gale. She knew he was capable of being incredibly kind and gentle, and he wasn’t speaking angrily anymore. But his voice was firm, and she knew he meant every word.

“You – you wouldn’t really tell my father, would you?” Odilon quailed. “It – I was just – it was a mistake! I was just scared of failing! That’s all! I really didn’t mean any harm!”

“Better that you fail now and have to learn something from it than later, when it may cost people their jobs,” Gale said, shaking his head. “You said your bakery staff are all your college friends who want to pad the community volunteering section of their resumes – I take it they won’t be hard done by if you close down?”

“Close down?” Odilon asked, blinking.

“Because that’s what you’re going to do,” Gale said firmly. “You’re going to close down your bakery, you’re going to go home, and you’re going to tell your father you need more help and training before you run so much as a dishwashing cycle.”

Sylvie could see a belligerent look entering Odilon’s eyes, but Gale continued before he could say anything.

“You can tell him, or I can. It’s your choice.”

Odilon’s eyes shot up to Gale’s face. His mouth opened as if to protest, but apparently he could see from Gale’s expression that it wouldn’t get him anywhere.

Reluctantly, he hung his head, his lips downturned.

“Could I just… have another chance?” he mumbled after a moment or two. “I promise I’ll –”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you this one,” Gale interrupted him, shaking his head. “You hurt my mate – you don’t want to know what my unicorn is telling me to do with you right now.”

A look of alarm crossed Odilon’s face, and he shook his head, holding up his hands. “All right, fine.” He shifted on his chair, eyes still darting back and forth. “But… you’ll give me a week, right? To close up properly and think about what I’m going to say to Dad?”

Sylvie glanced at Gale, and then nodded. “A week sounds reasonable. I think we can give you that.”

“Though I may give your dad a call in the next little while, just as a social thing,” Gale said, cocking his head. “And I may mention I ran into you. If it turns out you haven’t come clean, well, he and I may have to have a bit of a talk about that.”

Immediately, Odilon nodded. “Fine – you have my word. I’ll tell him. I promise. You can check.”

“Good.” Gale sat back in his chair, and released a long, slow breath. “Then I think we’re done here. You better go start arranging to vacate your lease early, and whatever else you need to do to start closing down.”

“All right,” Odilon said glumly. “I’ll go. And I’ll start doing… all that stuff.”

Sylvie had to wonder if Odilon even knew what, exactly, he had to do in order to close his shop.

But it’s not my problem anymore,she thought with relief – it was a feeling like some kind of oppressive weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt lighter than she had done in months.

I wasn’t going crazy. It was just… a fly shifter, stealing my things. And now he won’t be stealing any more.

She unlocked the bakery’s front door and opened it, letting Odilon leave. She couldn’t quite bring herself to say goodbye to him, but as she watched him trudging down the street in the dusk, his shoulders hunched dejectedly, she felt that same slight twinge of pity.

He tried to ruin you, though,she told herself. She knew she could be soft-hearted, but maybe it wasn’t worth wasting her pity on someone like Odilon. He’d almost ruined her life’s dream – everything she’d ever worked for. And for what? Just to impress his father, instead of admitting he needed his help! Sylvie could feel her head spinning just trying to figure it out.

Lucky I have Gale beside me to deal out the tough love, though,Sylvie thought, looking up at him, her heart warming. Unable to stop herself, she wound her arms around his waist, standing up on her toes to kiss him.

“Well,” Gale said, looking mildly stunned. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but what was that for?”

“You were pretty impressive back there,” Sylvie said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Another minute of that and I would have been calling my own father and confessing to the time I took the last cookie from the tray, and blamed it on the dog.”

Gale laughed lightly, his arms squeezing her gently against him. “I hope you don’t think I went overboard. My unicorn was steaming mad – but then, it has some pretty strong ideas about honor and chivalry. And it doesn’t skimp where protecting its mate is concerned.”

Sylvie shivered at the thought – a delicious shiver that ran the full length of her body, settling in her stomach.

A chivalrous, kind, protective unicorn for a mate,she thought, as she rested her head against Gale’s chest, hearing the beat of his heart in her ear. What could be better?

“Not even a little bit,” she said. “Some people just have to be told things straight. But I’m no good at things like that. I get all flustered. But you, clearly, know exactly what to do, and how to do it.”

The look on Gale’s face told her he’d picked up on her saucy implication – and before she could move, he’d leaned down, kissing her again, so passionately it made her feel breathless – until she realized that that was just the effect he had on her.

He’d taken her breath away from the first moment she’d seen him. She was pretty sure that was never going to change.

Fated mates, she thought, closing her eyes, feeling warmth radiating through every part of her. I guess that’s just what that means.

She knew she had a lot to learn about shifters – Fly shifters are a thing?! Did they draw the short straw or what?! – about the bond she and Gale shared, and about Gale himself. But right now, she couldn’t think of any better way to spend her future than finding those things out.

Because I love him.

It didn’t feel like a realization – it felt like a simple truth, coming to life inside of her.

I truly love him.

Raising her head, Sylvie gazed up into Gale’s face. As if he’d read her mind, he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her.

Sylvie let her eyes flicker shut, simply savoring the moment. Right now, all she wanted to do was let Gale’s love flow through her, and know that it was forever.