Page 71 of Tracking Snow

Snow's jaw works. "He's just...a very powerful dude."

"Powerful how?"

"The kind you don’t ask too many questions about his methods or how many fingers he cut off to get an answer."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

She snorts. Then the snort dies, and she goes quiet as she picks up a book and checks the cover before reshelving it.

"He's loyal as hell," she finally says. "He adores Isabelle like she hung the moon. He'd probably say yes just because she asked him to, but he scares the ever-loving piss out of me. I’ve seen him smile exactly once, and it haunted my dreams for two weeks."

I wonder if I could take a walk and see that, Three says.

Stay out of her dreams, I shoot back.

"You know as we walked in, there was that black limousine sitting at the curb across from the bookstore?" she asks.

I nod.

"That’s how I knew Isabelle would be here today, even though she has a new baby. With all the anti-magic sentiments, Dominic sits out there to keep watch over her when she pops in the store."

"Why? Is she magic?" I ask.

Snow shakes her head. "No, but with all the anti-magic bullshit, he’s worried about her being targeted because of what she sells." She picks up a book and shakes the cover at me. Mated to the Mage Next Door. She puts it down as the kid behind the bar, stocked with coffee and wine, clocks us.

They could be sixteen or in their mid-thirties, hard to say with the impish and mixed East Asian features. Short lavender hair, a rainbow sweater three sizes too big with an enamel pin on the chest reading THEY/THEM.

"Snow," they greet with a grin that shows off a chipped front tooth.

"Chip," Snow says, stepping up to the bar and reaching over for a fast slap, slide, knuckle bump combo that ends with Chip flicking their fingers like confetti.

"Are you coming to the next Lust & Lit Book Club? I think we’re reading Bitten By Death, one of Isabelle’s favorites." They waggle their eyes at Snow before giving me the side-eye.

"Not this time," Snow says, "but I already read it and loved it. Except no spice for the entire book? Pffft. What was the author thinking?"

"What? Don’t hate. The book literally has slow burn to spicy in all the descriptions of the trilogy. And when it happens in book two," they whistle. "The tension is so worth it." They turn to me. "Got another convert here? Dudes are totally welcome to the club too, my guy." Chip opens their arms in a welcoming gesture.

Snow’s mirth evaporates, her expression turning grave. "As much as I’d like to stick my friend here in a smutty book club with a bunch of assigned reading," she gives me a pat on the back so hard I lurch under it slightly, "we’re here to see Isabelle."

I cut a pointed glare at Snow, which she ignores.

Note to self: never set foot in here again, or I’ll be in danger of being forced to read romance books.

Not that Snow could make us do it...

A resounding and damning silence comes from the rest. Even Six silently acknowledges the girl could likely make us do anything she damn well pleases.

"Isabelle will be out in a second," Chip says. "She’s in the storeroom, pumping."

"Got it. Then make me something iced with enough espresso to legally qualify as a weapon." Snow props her elbows on the counter. "And I want an irresponsible amount of whipped cream."

Chip’s grin spreads as they grab a clear cup. "So your usual emotional support beverage."

"Obviously."

I step away as the two of them fall into easy chatter. Snow leans against the counter like she belongs here, one boot hooked around the other.

As the coffee grinder shrieks, I drift toward the closest shelf.