He pulled open the double doors to the lobby and stepped inside. Drawing in a long breath, he searched for the Sorcera Mirena’s scent. It was faint. Perhaps she’d walked through the area recently, but she wasn’t nearby.
Guests lined up at the desk, checking in with Layna, a cougar shifter who helped run the lodge side-by-side with the clan’s leader, Magic. Summer was their busiest time, Christmas being the only exception, but she handled the rush like a pro. She was poised and orderly, and ran things so tight, nobody ever needed to ask for extra towels. That was business Layna. But her downtime was reserved for her potty mouth. She could make a sailor blush with that talk.
Theron passed through to the dining room, nodding at some of the already familiar customers. Mrs. Clemweather. Mrs. Markel. Mr. Briggs. When he reached the kitchen door, he peeked through the small round window.
Eagan, jaguar shifter and Lake Haven’s chef, commanded the area, chopping and stirring and making pure magic happen behind that swinging door. Bailey, his assistant and mate to Gash, jetted around the kitchen plating dishes and absorbing Eagan’s politely barked orders. They were a well-oiled machine, cogs and gears, working together in harmony. And damn, did they conjure some tasty grub.
But the room was empty of the person Theron was searching for.
Turning, he hurried away from the dining room and headed for the spa. He needed to find Mirena before his shift started and tell her his plan to keep her light.
It wasn’t the most solid one, but it was something. A possibility. One that he was fully fucking on board with, and one that she… might need to be convinced of.
Theron ran a hand through his hair to dispel his nervous energy. If she said no, he’d honor her answer. What mate said was law for his bear. So he needed her to agree.
He’d start slow at first. Get her used to the idea. Ease her into it. Because yeah, it was kind of unconventional. He’d take his time explaining why this would work and how it would help. But not too much time. They were sorta on the clock. Mirena lost her light by the day. Eventually she’d sicken just as Nastia did.
In the corridor, Theron passed Josie, Magic’s mate. She waddled on puffy feet and her belly was swollen with a young. She was due to have the baby soon.
“Howdy, bear,” she said as a greeting.
Josie was a glitter and glitz city gal so she liked to really amp up the country vernacular on occasion. The cougar inside her loved the outdoorsy life the lodge afforded, but she couldn’t hide her love of trendy clothing. As evidenced by the designer maternity jeans she sported.
“Hi, Josie. How are you?”
She sighed. “Oh… I think I’m supposed to smile and say something like ‘never been better’ but that’s just not gonna happen. I feel like a house sized blueberry. I feel like if you poked me hard enough I’d pop. I feel like my lungs are breathing backwards. I feel like my shoes are filled with needles. I feel lik—”
“Got it,” Theron said. “I can’t imagine what nine months ready must feel like.”
But he should try. It could come in handy with his plan.
“I just told you though. So you don’t need to imagine,” she reminded.
“Point taken. By any chance, have you seen Mirena?”
Josie’s mouth quirked at the side. “Sure. Dark hair. Bout my height. Old fashioned dress. Likes to make dares. Yep, I know her. Why?”
Theron chuckled. “Know her location?”
“Mmmm. I do. But it’ll cost ya.”
He narrowed his gaze on the clan’s First Mate. “What’s your price?”
She furtively looked over her shoulder and then past Theron before answering, her voice low. “Got any gummy bears?”
He slanted one eyebrow at her request. “Gummy bears?”
“Yes, gummy bears. If you can come through for me with those, I’ll tell you where Mirena is.”
Theron sighed. “Gummy bears, huh?” Where would he find those. A trip into town maybe. But it would have to be after work. Or he could ask Thames to track some down while he was on security.
“Mm hm. Little squishy sweet versions of yourself.”
“They hard to come by around here?”
Josie nodded. “I would ask Eagan to order more, but that could take days. And I don’t have days,” she said, rubbing her belly. “I mean, I might have days, if this little guy wants to cook to extra crispy. But by then, my cravings could be out of control. We’re talking astronomical. It would take one of those giant three-pounder gummy bears they sell at the candy store in the mall to curb it. And really, I’m thinking if I eat that whole thing, there might not be any room for the baby to stay in here—”