Chapter Three
Piper did not sleep well. Baxter had fallen asleep just as she made up her mind to talk about Patrick's proposal. So she stewed in her thoughts all night, eventually moving to the couch so that her restless tossing and turning wouldn't disturb her mate.
What was a witch to do? She'd had dreams about two men, but it wasn't something that she'd ever seriously considered. Now a second Werewolf directly told her that he wanted her and her mate as his mates. They didn't even know each other.
Would they even get along? Would all of them be mated to each other, or would it just be Baxter and Patrick mated to her?
The next morning as she made her breakfast, a protein fruit smoothie, Baxter wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the back of her neck.
She turned to him. "Are you serious that you wouldn't mind having a trois amour?"
A smile twitched his lips. "Yeah. I am. Like I said, I've always known I wanted an Alpha. And if that Alpha can get us free tickets to hockey games—"
"This is serious."
"It's really not that complicated. I want an Alpha and I've seen Patrick assert his dominance with his team time and time again. He's a strong, confident male and exactly the kind of Alpha I want. But what you want is equally important. If you're not comfortable with adding a third mate, then I will be satisfied with monogamy."
"But would you be happy?"
Baxter pressed his lips to hers. "I'm happy when you're happy."
Piper sighed. She owed it to her mate to at least try this out. Nothing would become permanent until they mated, anyway. The image of the three of them kissing and groping each other came to her mind, making her cheeks flush. "Bax…"
He waited, but she couldn't figure out what she wanted to say so, she just shrugged. She rubbed the back of her neck, which prickled uncomfortably.
Wait.
She stiffened suddenly. Jerking away from Baxter she swore fluently and rushed for her coat.
"What is it?"
"The security spells at the gallery were tripped!" She swore again, shoving her feet into her boots. How long had it been going? How could she not notice before?
Because I was so distracted and tired. Or it had just happened.
When she stepped outside she saw a thick layer of frost sticking to the car windows, so she rushed back in, grabbing her dollar store flying broom. It was really too cold out for broomsticks, but this was an emergency.
Baxter opened his mouth to protest, but Piper pushed off, quickly gaining altitude so she flew over the buildings. The wind bit through her coat and her ears soon numbed. With one hand she pulled her blue and purple hair over her freezing cheeks, attempting to stay warm.
She was at the gallery in a matter of seconds and as she landed, her heart sunk. The large front window had been smashed, shards of glass everywhere, the metal grating Baxter had installed blown open. Somebody had used a powerful hex to get inside.
Piper rushed in, digging into her pants pocket for her cell phone.
She'd been so sure that her magical security system would be enough to stop anybody from breaking into the gallery, that she had been reluctant to spend cash she didn't have on a non-magical system. They were so easily disrupted and didn't prevent people from entering. The magical security system was meant to keep out everything and everybody except for her when the gallery was closed. Obviously, it hadn't worked.
Baxter arrived just after Piper phoned the police to report the break-in. He rushed to her side and wrapped his arms around her.
"This always happens," Piper seethed, pushing him away. She was in no mood for physical contact right now. "As soon as I get a break, something terrible happens. I really need to go to a magi and see if I'm hexed. I've been saying it for years but this time, I'm actually going to do it!"
"Go get your inventory list so we can see what's missing," Baxter said calmly.
Piper shook her head–of course. She was so distraught that she didn't even think about checking inventory. It was one of the reasons she loved Baxter. While she was getting emotional and certain that she was hexed, he focused on the more practical side of things. He was always there to keep her grounded.
By the time the police showed up, Piper had gone through the inventory both in the front and back of the shop.
"Nothing's missing," she told the police, leaning against Baxter as relief coursed through her. "It's just the damage to the storefront."
"Probably some out of towners mad that their team lost in the Wolf League," the police officer, Anna Johnson, a bulky, tall Werewolf, said, jotting down something on a notepad.
"As if I have another reason to hate hockey," Piper muttered.
Johnson chuckled. "I wouldn't say that too loudly or else the locals will come after you, too. You're in Canada, after all. Hockey's our biggest religion. If I didn't know you were born and raised here, I'd swear you were a foreigner. But rumor has it that Patrick Giles wants the two of you for a trois amour."
Piper flushed at the expectant look that Johnson gave her, but Baxter nodded proudly.
"Are you planning a wedding, or will you keep it to a private mating ceremony?"
"Aren't you supposed to be policing, not gossiping?" Piper interrupted. "We're not certain we're going to have a trois amour."
Johnson shrugged. "There weren't any usable scents and the magic is your basic garden variety. No special prints on it."
"That seems a little too well planned for a drunk angry person," Piper frowned. "You have to go through like five steps to scrub your prints from magic."
"We'll make sure to put a patrol on every hour after it gets dark to this area, just in case," Johnson said. "In the meantime, I suggest that you get this cleaned up and ready to open for business. The town's rumor mill will be producing a lot of curious folks to come see the witch that Patrick Giles has his eye set on."
"Thank you," Baxter said.
Piper blushed.
***
Baxter ran out for some fixit spray before he had to go to work while Piper swept up the shards of glass. The heating system was working overtime, which was going to end up in a high bill, but at least there hadn't been a wind or anything to knock the pieces around.
I just got ten thousand dollars. I'll have some leftovers, maybe enough to get that rattle in the car fixed.
When Wragge stepped onto the street from his stupid convertible corvette, Piper groaned. He looked at the damage to her gallery with an expression that was far too innocent.
Piper frowned as he came closer. Could he have something to do with what had happened here last night? He wasn't the best of neighbors, but would he really stoop so low?
"Miss Diamond," he greeted, deliberately walking through the pile of debris she had swept up. "It looks like you had some trouble last night."
"Nothing I can't handle," she replied through gritted teeth. "We're not open, so could you—"
"I hope nothing of value was taken?"
Piper sighed and shook her head. "Just some vandalism."
"Oh, good. I am glad to hear that," Wragge smiled, his gaze sweeping from one end of the shop to the other. "What luck that they'd only take that hideous amateur piece that you insisted on keeping behind the register."
Piper's face drained of color. She whirled around and found he was right. The wall behind the register was empty. Piper's heart leaped to her throat and she ran across the gallery. Maybe it had just fallen, or…
There was no sight of it. Her eyes filled with tears. How could she have been so worried about everything, and not even notice that it was missing?
It was a painting of the view looking down at an apple tree from a window. Her mother had painted it, showing the view she saw every day from her hospital bed as cancer slowly drained her life away.
"I never understood why you kept it around," Wragge continued. "It was a worthless, amateurish—"
Piper whirled on her heel throwing out both her hands towards Wragge. "Purpura informos!"
She grinned as large purple pustules broke out over Wragge's skin. He yelped, waving his hands around and trying various anti-hex wards. Piper laughed.
"It's a hex of my own design," she told him. "I'll take it off if you tell me what you've done with my mother's painting!"
***
"Mr. Wragge agreed not to press charges, given the circumstances," Officer Johnson said as she let Piper out of the community jail cell. "But you can't go around hexing people for being rude to you."
"He's the one who broke into my gallery," Piper insisted, as she had for the last several hours.
"He was at home celebrating the Wolf League's run of luck. We have dozens of witnesses backing him up."
Piper scowled as she collected her belongings. If Wragge didn't do it himself, he had hired somebody else to do it. She didn't speak as she was lead out of the station. Baxter waited for her and gave her a relieved hug.
"I've fixed the damage at the gallery," he told her as they headed for the car. "And I went out and bought a new security system. You're a good witch, but this one is magic and non-magic. It will protect the store better."
"Thank you," Piper whispered, slumping into the passenger seat. She didn't want to talk right now.
"I'm going to find your mother's painting. I'm going to get it back for you."
Piper nodded, not saying what was on her mind. Thor Wragge had stolen it. He was a powerful warlock and crafty enough to know that the more valuable pieces had stronger security around them. She'd never thought somebody would want to steal her mother's painting. In all likelihood, Wragge would have destroyed it by now.
I'm going to prove he did it. Somehow. And then he'll be sorry.