Page 13 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

“We’ll sneak in ciders!” Tawny said, releasing Zephyr and fishing two huckleberry ciders from her giant purse. Her purse wasn’t enchanted like Zephyr’s delivery bag was, but it still seemed capable of carrying anything. “Please, please, please. Don’t make me go alone. Lyle is going to be there. I need a wing-woman.”

The owl shifter’s crush on the post office vampire was annoyingly adorable. Since the pair worked opposite shifts, day and night, Tawny rarely got to flirt with the monotone vampire. Zephyr didn’t want to explain the real reason she wanted to avoid the town hall, Neil Finnegan, and Tawny would keep digging her claws in until she unveiled the truth. It was easier just to comply and hope for the best. With half the town present, surely he would leave her alone? Zephyr sighed and cut Tawny off. “Fine, I’ll go. But if you only have one cider for me, that’s going to be a problem.”

THREE CIDERS DEEP, Zephyr settled into a very uncomfortable, mismatched chair while the elders of Pumpkin Hollow verbally battled and complained. The energy they reserved for such mundane, small-town issues—most of them regarding the Pumpkin Festival that was only a few weeks away—was impressive. In her old age, Zephyr hoped she would still have the vigor to care about where the town moved the gazebo.

“Move the gazebo? MOVE THE GAZEBO?” a witch dressed all in orange, her hair dyed the same traffic-cone color, cried. She pretended to faint into the arms of a male witch wearing all purple.

Zephyr tuned them out. She sat alone, but she didn’t mind it. The warmth of the hall and the buzz of the people threatened to lull her to sleep. A nap would do her a lot of good. And it would give Tawny some “privacy,” though there was little of that in Pumpkin Hollow. Tawny had cornered Lyle, and the rail-thin, pale man was blushing bright pink. Zephyr doubted that the mulled wine and blood mixture he drank was responsible for the color. If Tawny noticed it too, Zephyr might have to walk herself home tonight.

Someone shuffled next to Zephyr, a dance of indecision, before they sat heavily into the chair next to her.

“Hey,” Zephyr said without opening her half-shut eyes, “Get back out there. Lyle already looks half in love with you. Go in for the kill.”

“I don’t think Tawny would appreciate the interruption,” a deep, even voice replied.

Zephyr sat up with a start. “Finnegan,” she muttered crossly. “You ruined my nap.” She wondered if she should send a “save me” text to Tawny.

“Can I talk to you?” Neil asked. Zephyr glanced up at him, glad to see he was already flushed with embarrassment.

She shrugged. “Until the restraining order goes through, I guess I can’t stop you.”

He chuckled nervously, but when her expression remained neutral, he swallowed his laughter. “There’s something I need to explain—”

“The freaky shrine you have of me? Is that the ‘something’?” she asked loudly.

“Shh!” Neil gestured toward the exit. “Not here. Let’s go somewhere private before we give the entire town something new to gossip about. Let them focus on the gazebo for a few more days.”

“I’m not following you to a second location. I’ve listened to half of a true crime podcast before.”

His shoulders slumped, and he sat in the chair next to her, defeated. “She’d be mortified if she knew I was telling you this,” Neil muttered.

“She?”

He leaned over, his shoulder touching hers. “Look behind you. Discretely.”

“What am I looking for?” Zephyr asked as she spun around and obviously scanned the crowd sitting behind her.

“Discrete isn’t something you do, is it?” Neil asked with a sigh. “Look for my sister.”

Zephyr narrowed her eyes until she spotted Karah. She smiled as the woman waved. Zephyr waved back until she noticed the willowy teenage girl sitting next to Karah. The teen wore a knockoff duplicate of Zephyr’s racing jacket, and the slack-jawed look she gave Zephyr was one she recognized. The girl was starstruck.

And living proof that the shrine in the Finnegans’ workshop did not belong to Neil.

Zephyr stood. “Okay. You get five minutes.”

Neil ushered them out as the town hall devolved into a magical duel over the gazebo. Sparks from magic wands flew and harmlessly hit their backs as the pair left the building.

THEY SETTLED ON A PARK BENCH, lit by a cozy streetlight directly overhead. Zephyr kicked her feet as they sat together, sending tiny tornadoes of wind out across the ground. Leaves spun as the twisters passed through them.

“That was Levina, Karah’s kid.” Neil rested his elbows on his knees, hunching over as he held his head in his hands. “They moved to Pumpkin Hollow around the same time you came back. Levina’s, uh, a fan of yours. To put it lightly.”

“She has good taste,” Zephyr returned. She shivered on the cold metal bench and wished she’d brought a better coat. All her heavy coats were part of her racing uniform, and she wasn’t quite ready to look at her old uniform again. “And an impressive collection. She has some things I don’t even have.”

“When they moved here, they couldn’t fit a three-bedroom house into a studio apartment. So, we found room in the shop. Unfortunately, you also found it.”

“If you had been in my position, you would have run away, too.” Zephyr hugged herself. “Is Levina—”

“An air witch? Yeah, like her deadbeat father.” Neil straightened up, looking at her for the first time since they had relocated. “He left them in Florida last year. Karah thought he’d come back, but he recently made it very clear they were on their own. It’s going to be a mess.” A small streak of blue lightning raced over the back of his hand, spidering around his knuckles. The spell didn’t faze her. Even now, Neil didn’t read violent. His magic was running loose from anxiety and not from a thirst for vengeance. He said, “Levina’s acting like she doesn’t care, but…”