Clint was sipping a glass of his best scotch as he sat on his front porch. The rain had returned, but even the downpour could not dampen his spirits right now. His covered porch kept him dry, and the scotch kept him warm.

He was celebrating, even though he knew that there was a lot of work left to do. Sure, the ancient magic spells still needed to be found, and Clint had no idea how that was actually going to be done. Then, a wizard would need to be trained, which would be a long process. The road ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but at least the High Council had finally stopped blaming him and had acknowledged the truth. Clint had faith that somehow, some way, with all of Torch Lake working together on the problem, they would find the ancient magic spells. After all, the Dark Warriors had managed to discover ancient magic somehow. If they had done it, so could Torch Lake.

Clint took a long sip of his scotch, and then realized that there was one thing that could ruin his mood: from below him, he heard the sound of sniffing and scraping that he now recognized as Mocha’s digging. With a sigh, he stood and went to the edge of his porch and glared down at the dog.

“Hey! Get out of here! You know you’re not allowed to dig around in there!”

Mocha looked up at him and wagged her tail. She let out a little yip and spun in a circle, then bent down in a low bow, an invitation to play. Clint had to laugh. Even if she was a bit poorly behaved, he had to admit that the dog was cute. But he shook his head at her, anyway.

“No Mocha. I’m not going to play with you right now. I’m trying to relax with my scotch, and besides, it’s pouring rain.”

Mocha looked so sad that Clint felt a little guilty. He was about to cave and tell the dog she could come up on the porch with him, muddy paws and all, when he saw a figure flying through the air on a broomstick.

“Look, Sunny is home. Go bug her to play with you.”

At the sound of her mistress’s name, Mocha whirled around and took off running toward her house, barking in excitement. Clint watched as Sunny landed in her front yard and gave the dog a huge hug. They were both soaking wet, but neither of them seemed to care. Sunny was dressed in her work uniform and must have just come from the coffee shop, and Mocha could not have been happier that the work day was done. Mocha stood on her hind legs for a moment, yipping and bouncing as she tried to stay balanced in an upright position. Then Sunny laughed as Mocha barked and ran in little circles, and Clint felt his chest tightening up in an odd way. As much as he didn’t like having a neighbor, he had to admit that he did like her laugh. There was something so pure and joyful about it.

At that moment, Sunny looked up and caught him staring at her.

“Damn it,” he whispered, when she smiled and gave him a big wave. He had no choice but to wave back. So far, he wasn’t doing a very good job of being an unfriendly neighbor. She was going to think he wanted her to stay. With a grunt, he turned to go inside and find himself some dinner.

Several hours later, though, he was back on the porch, watching as the rain continued to fall through the now dark sky. He had a fresh glass of scotch, and he once again had some solitude. Sunny must be inside her house, and he hadn’t seen Mocha out for a while, either. Clint relaxed a little and sank deeper into his patio chair. After the long hours he’d been working lately, it felt good to take it easy for just one night. Tomorrow, he would join in the search for ancient magic in earnest. But tonight, he wanted to celebrate the fact that he’d finally gotten the High Council on his side.

He should have known better than to hope that his reverie would last for long. A few minutes later, he heard the familiar sniffing and scraping again.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Clint stood and looked over the side of the porch. Mocha was once again digging, and the hole in the flowerbeds was getting quite deep.

“Are you trying to dig your way to China or something?” Clint asked the dog. Mocha, of course, only looked up at him and wagged her tail happily. Clint set his glass of scotch down on his small patio table and then stormed down the steps.

“Come on. We’re gonna have a word with your momma.” Clint picked the dog up and tucked her under one arm. Even though Mocha was the size of a large Labrador, Clint easily carried her across the yard like this. He could feel the dog’s wet fur soaking into the side of his t-shirt, but he ignored the dampness. The rain was starting to soak the rest of him, anyway. When he reached Sunny’s porch, he let Mocha slide to the floor. Sunny’s house was built almost identically to Clint’s, at least on the outside. It had the same large porch with a protective overhang, which had been one of the things Clint had loved about his house when he moved in. Sunny’s porch was a mess right now, though. There were moving boxes piled in each corner, and muddy paw prints everywhere. Mocha was adding even more muddy prints now, as she spun around in excited circles. Shaking his head, Clint rapped his knuckles on the door loudly. A few moments later, Sunny swung the door open. Clint had been prepared to give her a long, forceful lecture about keeping her dog under control, but the words died in his throat when he saw her.

Her face was pale, except around her eyes, where the skin was red and puffy. Her hair was pulled into an uneven ponytail, and looked like it hadn’t been brushed all day. She had changed out of her work uniform into a pair of jeans and a light hoodie, but somehow the smell of coffee still lingered around her.

She still looked beautiful, but there was no doubt that something was bothering her. Something big.

“Mocha,” she said with a sigh when she realized the dog was on the porch, hiding behind Clint’s legs. “Were you digging again? I’ve told you to stop that.”

Clint didn’t care about the dog anymore. Something in his chest was twisting up in a funny way, and he gave Sunny a long, hard look. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him and looked alarmed for a moment. “N-nothing,” she stammered. “Why?”

“You look awfully pale, and your eyes are all red.”

Sunny laughed, but it was a forced laugh. Nothing like the musical sound of her real laugh. “I’m fine. Just worn out from work. Working and moving at the same time is exhausting.”

Clint stared at her for a few more moments. He had a feeling that something big was bothering her, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, then what could he do? He was surprised by how much he cared, though. Without thinking about it, he reached out to squeeze her upper arm. “Things will settle down soon enough.”

Her eyes shot up to meet his, and he quickly pulled his hand away. His fingertips tingled and burned where they had made contact with Sunny’s body, and from the surprised look in her eyes, he had a feeling that she had felt the strong chemistry between them as well. He had to stop letting himself feel so attracted to her, or he was going to get himself in an awful lot of trouble. He didn’t have time for women. He had ancient magic to find, and dragons to recruit.

“Anyway,” he said briskly, taking a step backward. “Here’s your dog. Try to keep her out of my flowerbeds.” Then he turned on his heel and went back to his porch.

He couldn’t relax anymore, though. All he could think about was the way his body had reacted to Sunny’s. They had chemistry, there was no denying that. But that didn’t mean anything serious, did it? She was a beautiful woman, and he was a man with eyes. Of course there would be some attraction, but that didn’t mean he was going to fall in love with her. Or start liking her. Or think that perhaps it might not be so bad having a neighbor after all.

Clint let out a groan. He was in so much trouble. He had to get Sunny out of his head. In desperation, he stood and picked up his scotch glass. Despite his plan to relax tonight, he might try to do a little work. Anything to get his mind off Sunny. And it couldn’t hurt to have a head start on researching ancient magic, although Clint was worried that they were going to have to find and raid the Dark Warriors to get any information. The only other promising option he could think of was to send a team to go through the ruins of Eagle Thicket. Perhaps something there had not burned completely, and could give them information on ancient counter spells.

Clint was just about to open his front door when he heard the snorting and scraping sound again.

“You have got to be kidding me!”

Clint went to the edge of the porch to scold Mocha, but was surprised to find that this time the dog was actually filling in the hole instead of digging it deeper. Then he saw a flash of blue, and realized that Mocha was burying something. Curious, he forgot to be angry and hopped down the porch steps.

“What do you have there, girl?” he asked, peering into the hole. Mocha, as usual, yipped and twirled in circles in response. Clint peered into the hole, squinting in the darkness, and then reached in to pull out Mocha’s nearly-buried treasure. He found himself holding a blue t-shirt that looked like it was just about Sunny’s size.

Clint laughed and started shaking the clumps of mud off of the shirt. “Does your momma know you’re burying her clothes out here?”

Mocha tilted her head and yipped. Clint smiled and looked down at the shirt, but his smile froze when he saw the logo on the front. In bright white script, the words Academy of Ancient Magic curled around the seal of the supposedly extinct Eagle Thicket Clan. Clint stared at it in disbelief for several seconds, blinking his eyes a few times to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

“Come on, Mocha,” he finally said, turning to walk toward Sunny’s house. “We’re going to have another talk with your momma.”