Several hours later, Clint felt like his brain had disappeared just like the dragons. He couldn’t think straight anymore, and he finally admitted to himself that he needed a break. He ordered a pizza—something he rarely did, since he felt badly for the delivery guys who had to drive all the way out to his house in the middle of nowhere—and started packing up the papers he’d been reading through.

He’d tried to find out more about the ancient magic Sofia had mentioned, but so far he hadn’t had much luck. No wonder he’d been having such a hard time figuring out what was going on with the Dark Warriors and disappearing dragons. The information he needed just wasn’t out there. According to Sofia, it had all burned along with the Eagle Thicket’s Academy of Ancient Magic.

The doorbell rang, and Clint nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t expected the pizza to be here so soon. Setting aside the copy of A History of Forgotten Spells that he’d been holding in his hand, he went to get the door. There on his doorstep was a greasy haired teenage wizard, holding a broomstick in one hand and a pizza box in the other.

“Delivery, Mr. Wallace,” the boy said proudly.

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Did you fly here?” Broomstick flying was strictly regulated, and the High Council had written a prohibition in Torch Lake’s civil code that prevented companies from using broomsticks for deliveries. But the boy didn’t seem at all concerned by Clint’s question.

“Yup, I flew here. And I beat the GPS estimate by a good two minutes at least.”

Clint frowned. “Isn’t delivery flying, you know, illegal?”

The boy laughed. “Not anymore. Didn’t you hear the news? It was on the front page of the paper this morning. The High Council ruled yesterday afternoon to lift the ban on commercial broomstick flying. They’re hoping to boost the economy a bit by allowing it.”

Clint felt a rush of anger. Here he was, busting his ass to try to solve this dragon problem, and the High Council was worrying about petty things like broomstick flying. The boy seemed to notice Clint’s mood, because he wiped the proud grin off his face and pushed the pizza box forward.

“Uh, anyway, here you go sir. Thank you for your business.”

Clint sighed. “Wait a sec.” He dug into his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill to tip the kid. It wasn’t the boy’s fault that the High Council couldn’t seem to get its priorities straight. “Thanks for the delivery. Have a good night. And be careful out there. The skies are going to be a lot more congested with that ban lifted.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” the boy said. Then he hopped onto his broomstick and took off into the dark night. Clint watched him go until he couldn’t see him anymore, then looked down at the pizza box. The words Peregrine Pizza were written in elegant script across the cardboard box top, and the smell of cheese, pepperoni, and sauce drifted up to Clint’s nose. Normally, his mouth would have already been watering. Peregrine Pizza was his favorite pizza joint, and he had been starving just a few minutes ago. But now, he had lost his appetite.

He had moved to Torch Lake because he believed in this town, and in its High Council. Had that belief been misplaced? Had the High Council become too comfortable and complacent? Didn’t they realize that the threat of dark magic still lurked in the shadows?

The sound of snorting and scraping interrupted Clint’s thoughts. Frowning, he set the pizza box down on the seat of one of the patio chairs and went to lean over the porch railing. There, in his flowerbeds, where the tulips he had so lovingly planted last fall were just starting to peek through the earth, a large dark shape bounced around and clawed at the ground.

“What the…” Clint hadn’t had much trouble with animals out here. Most of the forest creatures seemed content to stay in the forest, away from the growing town that was slowly encroaching on their habitat. But this creature was going to town on the flowerbed, sending dirt flying behind its paws, along with a few baby tulips.

“Hey!” Clint shouted at the animal, squinting to try to see what it was. It paused and looked up, giving a few curious sniffs in Clint’s direction. That’s when he realized it was a dog. A mutt, but with quite a bit of lab in it. The dog seemed to decide that Clint wasn’t all that interesting, because she gave a happy yip and went back to digging.

“You must be Mocha,” Clint said, gritting his teeth as he took the steps down from the porch in two big leaps. “And you are not allowed to dig in these flowerbeds. Come on, let’s take you back to your momma.”

Clint picked the animal up in his arms and started marching toward Sunny’s house. Mocha must have decided that this was some sort of game, because she wagged her tail furiously, slapping Clint’s back with it while planting sloppy, wet kisses on Clint’s face.

“Hey, now. We are not friends, Mocha. I don’t have time for a misbehaving dog in my life right now, so do me a favor and stay in your own yard, okay?”

Clint had tried to sound stern, but Mocha only wagged her tail harder. Clint could feel cold mud on his face where Mocha had pushed her muddy snout up against his cheek. With a sigh, Clint reached to ring Sunny’s doorbell. A few moments later, Sunny threw open the door, and Clint’s jaw nearly dropped. She was wearing only a white tank top and cotton pajama shorts now. No bra—that was obvious from the clear outline of her nipples under her shirt. Her hair was pulled up into some sort of messy ponytail, with loose strands falling out everywhere. Clint felt himself going hard between his legs. He would have to have been blind to not have some sort of reaction to what was in front of him.

“Uh…” he said, trying to remember the little speech he’d been preparing in his head about keeping her dog under control.

“Mocha!” Sunny said. She reached out and grabbed the dog from him, not seeming to notice or care that it was covered in mud. “Oh my god Clint, was she digging in your yard? I’m so sorry. She’s such a bad digger and I’ve told her a thousand times not to wander around making holes but she never listens. Bad girl, Mocha.”

In response to her mistress’s scolding, Mocha began planting sloppy wet kisses on Sunny’s face. Clint found himself at a loss for words. It was hard to be angry when you found yourself hopelessly attracted to someone. If anything, he was angry at himself now. What was he thinking, letting himself think about how beautiful Sunny was? He could not let himself go down that road or he was going to start liking her. Then he was going to start acting neighborly, and then Sunny would decide she liked living on this street and stay. Clint didn’t want her to stay. He wanted his quiet street back to himself, thank you very much.

“Yeah, well, keep her out of my flowerbeds,” he said, managing to sound at least a little bit stern. Then he spun around and started walking away as quickly as he could, hoping that his momentary attraction to her had not been as obvious on his face as he felt it was. He’d already made it halfway back to his yard before her voice stopped him.

“Wait!”

Groaning inwardly, he turned back to her. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering if you know of any pizza places that deliver out this way. I’m starving, but I haven’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet. All my kitchen stuff is still packed up anyway.”

Clint felt a pang of guilt. He knew he should just invite her over to share his pizza. That’s what neighbors did, right? But he didn’t want a neighbor. Not even one as beautiful as Sunny. For a few moments, he wrestled with the decision, but, once again, his manners finally won out.

“There is a place that delivers. Peregrine Pizza. I actually just got a pizza from them. You’re welcome to join me for a slice or two if you want.”

Sunny’s face lit up. “Really? I’d love that. Do you have enough?”

Clint nodded. “I always get the biggest pie they have because I love cold pizza for breakfast.”

Sunny laughed. “Me too. It’s the best!”

Clint managed a smile. “See, I knew you weren’t all bad.”

Sunny laughed again, and Clint found himself drawn to the sound. It sounded even better tonight than it had the night before in the midst of the torrential rain. Tonight, with the clear skies and otherwise silent air, her laugh sounded almost like a song.

“Just let me get some decent clothes on and I’ll be right over.”

Clint nodded, then turned to head back toward his house before the streetlight gave away the fact that a blush was creeping onto his face. What was wrong with him? He definitely didn’t have time for a relationship right now, especially with his neighbor whom he hoped would move away the day her lease ended. He needed to keep his fantasies in line and focus on what actually mattered right now, which was his work. The safety of Torch Lake, and of countless dragons, depended on his convincing the High Council to take action against the Dark Warriors and their ancient magic threats.

Clint took a few deep, calming breaths as he reached his house and went inside to grab a couple of beers from the refrigerator. He popped the tops off and then grabbed a couple paper plates. They would eat outside on the porch. He wasn’t ready to show Sunny his house yet. That somehow felt too intimate. Besides, the night was gorgeous. It was warm for April, and for once the skies were clear. Might as well enjoy the evening.

He had a feeling that, despite all his little pep talks to himself about not falling for Sunny, he was going to enjoy this evening much more than he should.