Page 96 of Something Handsome This Way Comes

“Okay.” His voice remained calm. “You’ve got mild frostbite. Nothing permanent. I can get you patched up pretty quick.”

The father visibly sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Just give me a few minutes to whip something up.”

But as his mate went to work plucking ingredients off shelves and starting up a flame, their eyes met.

Frostbite.

In October.

Their little town mystery was growing.

By midmorning, they already had two more reports. A milk churn frozen solid behind the dairy, and an apple orchard where dozens of ripe apples hung imprisoned inside perfectly clear shells of ice.

Word that Healer Pembrooke was in charge of solving this mystery had spread, and the townsfolk were eager to approach them in the street that morning. Every conversation ended the same way.

“We’ll take care of it,” Milo promised. And every single time, the worried expressions softened.

Grievance found himself smiling. Not because the situation wasn’t serious—double cases of frostbite on two young boys was nothing to sneeze at—but because of the way his mate was handling it. Because of how everyone in Pumpkin Hollow looked at Milo.

Months ago, the witch beside him would have apologized for existing and tried to melt away from every interaction. He questioned every word that came out of his mouth and looked over his shoulder as if waiting for someone to tell him he wasn’t good enough.

That version of Milo appeared only rarely now.

Instead, Grievance watched his mate reassure frightened neighbors, answer questions without hesitation, and organize a plan before breakfast had fully settled.

Milo had become the sort of Healer Grievance had always known he could be.

And Lanterns…

He was beautiful doing it.

Together they finished setting another enchanted trap near the edge of town before following an elderly couple toward a strange patch of snow tucked between two cottages.

“There,” the woman whispered. “It wasn’t there yesterday.”

The snow glittered beneath the morning sun. Fresh tracks crisscrossed the powder. Milo crouched beside them.

“I’ve never seen footprints like these.”

Grievance knelt beside him. Immediately, something caught his attention. Two different types of tracks. One set was feline, the distinct outline of little toe beans delicately placed in the snow.

Adorable.

The second set of prints was the same as the ones they’d seen with Officer Hobbs. Four narrow reptilian toes ending in sharp claw marks.

“Are we dealing with two animals?” Milo asked.

Grievance shook his head. “No. The same creature, look.” He traced the spacing with one finger. “It walks on four legs.” He tapped the toe bean prints. “These are the front feet, and these are the rear,” he said, tracing the reptilian ones.

Milo’s green eyes widened. “So strange. I hope we catch it soon.”

“So do I.”

They set two more traps along the edges of town before turning onto Main Street, wandering without rhythm or destination. There was nowhere they needed to be. They were simply enjoying the peace of an autumn afternoon together, hand in hand.

Walking through Pumpkin Hollow this time of year with Milo’s hand tucked safely in his own was one of Grievance’s favorite things in the world. He loved watching the hundred different ways their magical town came alive.