1. Sienna

1

SIENNA

T he espresso machine hissed, sending up a swirl of steam as I wiped the counter beside it. My cousin Cassie was across from me, double-checking her inventory list. She looked so calm and focused.

This coffee shop was definitely her happy place.

“Let’s add an extra container of decaf vanilla, just in case,” she said, nodding to herself as she wrote it down. “We almost ran out last month, and I’m not about to aggravate Pastor Elton again and receive one of those looks he gives. I swear that man can see right into a person’s soul.”

“Pastor Elton and his precious decaf.” I chuckled. “No one should be that attached to caffeine-free coffee.”

Cassie grinned while wrinkling her nose. “I know, but it’s good for business.”

“True,” I said.

Not that this place needed any help in that department. The Caffeinated Fox was practically a town landmark, and Cassie had earned her place as its beating heart after taking it over for her mom, Regina, a few years ago. I was only here temporarily, filling in for Annette—who’d decided to stay home with her kids after finding out she was pregnant with her third—until Cassie hired someone else. It was supposed to be a quick favor, but I wasn’t sure if a few shifts would turn into something more permanent.

It wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

After all, Cassie was easy to work with, the tips were nice, and it wasn’t as though my dog grooming business was thriving. Getting the word out had been more of a challenge than I’d anticipated.

Another customer made their way to the counter, grabbing my attention, and I stepped up to take their order while Cassie finished making her inventory list.

“Hey, what can I get you today?” I asked the elderly woman.

I’d seen her around town but couldn’t remember her name. However, I did remember her weird tortoiseshell purse and the stories that came with it. My heart started beating triple time as I wondered if the old woman had something to give me.

That was what she did—she gave things to people.

Gifts.

Sometimes it was actual trinkets and others it was the gift of advice. As I stared into her pale blue eyes, I wondered which she might give me today.

“Hello, dear,” the old woman said. “I’ll have a pumpkin spice latte. I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.”

A little late to the trend, but okay.

“Sure. One pumpkin spice latte coming right up,” I said, trying not to gag.

I hated pumpkin spice. Give me apple anything all day. That was the original flavor of fall.

“Hey, Ms. Lynette,” Cassie greeted the old woman, making her way to the counter. “How are you today?”

Ms. Lynette .

Yep. That was her name.

“I’m good, dear. Out and about today,” she said with a smile. “Figured I’d try one of those pumpkin spice lattes I see everyone raving about all the time.”

Cassie went ahead and made one for her while I rang her up.

“Let me know what you think,” Cassie said, placing it on the counter.

“Thank you, dear,” Ms. Lynette said, and then her attention shifted back to me. “I almost forgot. I came here to give you something.”

I blinked. “Me?”

Ms. Lynette set her latte on the counter and rummaged through her tortoiseshell purse. “Yes. Ah, here it is.” She pulled out a phone charger and set it on the counter. “You’ll need this.”

While I knew the woman’s reputation in town, the type of items she gave were still strange. I mean, a phone charger? I already had one at home.

Why would I need another?

Even so, I took it.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

Apparently, nothing was needed because Ms. Lynette picked up her pumpkin spice latte and headed for the exit.

Cassie made a noise, and I turned to look at her. Her eyes widened and a smile stretched across her face. “You just got a gift from Ms. Lynette!”

“Yep, a phone charger.”

I picked it up, checking to make sure there wasn’t anything special about it. Didn’t look like it. It looked like a normal phone charger to me, and not even a new one. There was dirt smudged along the white cord.

Cassie nudged me. “You know what this means.”

“Now I can charge my phone while I work?” I teased.

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re going to find a mate soon.”

My stomach somersaulted.

Was that what I wanted?

Sure, I was the only member of the Misfit Shifters who hadn’t found their mate, but it didn’t bother me.

Not really.

“Anyway,” I said, trying to change the subject.

Cassie lifted her hands in the air, her eyes widening. “Okay, I won’t mention it again. All I’m going to say is to be on the lookout for love.”

I laughed, but deep inside, I felt my fox stir. Love was something she wanted, something she’d always wanted. However, it wasn’t something we had any luck finding.

A small rush came through the coffee shop over the next few minutes, for which I was grateful. It kept me busy and kept Ms. Lynette’s odd gift off my mind.

It also kept the whole Xander situation off my mind, too.

He was still out there, lurking around with Lucius’s dark spirit inside him. Not only that, but the releasing phase of the moon was fast approaching, and if I couldn’t come up with a plan to get a feather from his raven soon, it wasn’t going to be good.

Cassie and I danced around one another, making more pumpkin spice lattes than I cared to. Once the rush of customers had passed, we paused and gave each other a look.

“Whew,” she said, blowing out a puff of air. “We got busy for a minute.”

“Yeah, and I think I made my twentieth pumpkin spice latte of the day.”

“Probably. They’re popular.” She chuckled.

“I don’t understand why.”

“Anyway,” Cassie said, with a slight eye roll. She was a fan of the flavor. “I wanted to say thanks again for agreeing to help me out until I find someone else to hire on. You’ve been a lifesaver. The regulars miss Annette, but I think they’re starting to warm up to you.”

I laughed at that. “No one’s warming up to me. They can all sense my lack of patience for pumpkin spice season, but I’m okay with that.”

“They like the edge you bring around here. It makes things more interesting,” she countered. “Besides, you know you’re great with people.”

“Maybe a little.” I grinned. “You’ve got this place handled, though. I’m just backup.”

“Maybe.” She smiled, her tone soft. “But it’s been nice having you here. Keeps things lively.”

I softened at that, feeling a rush of warm gratitude for my cousin flood me. Cassie always did have a way of making people feel good. Watching her work the espresso machine or chat with the customers, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride toward her.

“Thanks,” I said. “You know, you really have a way with people. You make them feel like they belong—especially your customers.”

She smiled and looked at me, her gaze soft. “Awe. That’s sweet of you to say. I guess I just like making people feel like they belong somewhere. Even if it’s just this little coffee shop. It’s important to me that folks feel good about coming here, you know?”

I nodded, struck by her words in a way I hadn’t expected.

Belonging.

It was something I’d been searching for in my own way for a while now, but here Cassie was, creating it for everyone who walked through her door. She didn’t need to be flashy or fierce. She was just a friendly face with a heart of gold.

Cassie wasn’t floundering through life—unlike me.

Sure, I was covering shifts here for her until she could find someone more permanent, which counted as helping family, but other than that, all I had going for me was a dog grooming business I couldn’t get off the ground.

Then there was the situation with Xander’s raven.

I still needed to figure out how to get a feather from him for Maribel’s ritual and I had no idea how to go about it. I’d only said I would handle it because everyone else had found solid ground lately, including their person, and I was the only one in the crew who was still out there searching for both.

I’d stepped up so none of them had to.

Even so, being here, in Cassie’s world of lattes and regulars, it felt good to be reminded of the other side of life—the brighter side that didn’t involve possessed shifters, evil spirits, and a longing to find a sense of home.

My phone buzzed with a new voicemail, startling me. I hadn’t even heard it ring. Cassie glanced at me.

“You can check that,” she said.

“Probably just spam,” I replied, but I pulled it out of my back pocket anyway.

Cassie grinned. “Maybe it’s love calling.”

“I didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic,” I countered, glancing at my cell.

It was a voicemail from an unknown number. Curious, I tapped play and a man’s voice filled my ear, sounding slightly overwhelmed, endearing, and tired.

“Uh, hey. This is Ben. Dr. Ben Andrews, the vet you brought Rosco to. Just wanted to check in and make sure he’s, uh… mellowing out all right. I know his situation with the edible had you worried, but like I said, he’s not the first dog to have a run-in with some unexpected treats . Just let him sleep it off, make sure he’s got plenty of water, and maybe keep him out of trouble for a while.” He chuckled softly, sounding a bit amused with himself and a snort escaped me. “Anyway, if he decides to stage another snack attack, feel free to call me. This is my personal cell. Thanks.”

“Who was it?” Cassie asked, curiosity flaring through her eyes. “I thought I heard something about an edible?”

“Yeah. It was a wrong number. A vet who was calling to check on one of his patients—a stoned dog from the sounds of it—who came in today, which sounds kind of hilarious. Could you imagine?”

She cracked a grin. “Oh, no! I’m sure that was scary for both the dog and the owner!”

“Probably more so for the owner.” I chuckled.

“Are you going to call him back and let him know he has the wrong number?”

I blinked. “Should I?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, even though my fox seemed to love the idea.

“I would,” Cassie said. “What if the owners need to get in touch with him?”

I pursed my lips together, thinking. “Okay, give me one second,” I muttered.

“Take your time.”

A couple walked in, garnering Cassie’s attention as I slid into the back room.

I paced the length of the storage room, wondering what to say. When I had something in mind, I tapped his number and waited for it to ring. It rang a few times and then went to voicemail.

Perfect.

“Hi, Dr. Ben. So, you definitely didn’t reach Rosco’s owners. But honestly? I’m glad you called the wrong number because your message made my day. That poor puppy! But don’t worry, I have a feeling he’ll munch his way through these high stakes just fine. Wink. Wink.” I chuckled at myself for the pun, corny as it was. “Thanks again for the laugh.”

I hung up, feeling like that could have come off as slightly cringy but not caring in the slightest because it had made me laugh. My fox stirred, making herself known, and I realized I was grinning like a fool.

I didn’t know Dr. Ben Andrews, but he was the first man to make me smile like this in a long time, and he hadn’t even been trying.