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little like you.”

Heidi brightened.

“’Cept prettier.”

She frowned.

He rose and shook his head. “Some things a potion can’t cure.” He pulled a flask from his apron pocket and took a swig. “Broken heart is one of them. Though it won’t keep me from tryin’.” He took another swig, then choked.

My eyes slid to Will, who watched the old man with his lip curled. Yeah—the old kook had taken my gold, and as much as I felt for him for losing his wife, I wanted some answers about Letty.

I raised my brows at the old guy, who roughly wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy arm. “So Letty was a customer?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Like you said, I made anti-allergy potions for her. She had a nasty strawberry allergy.”

“How bad?”

“Heh.” He shook his head and slid off the stool, then hobbled over to a chest of tiny drawers. He slid one out, revealing a crunched mess of tightly filed notecards and slips of parchment. He rifled through them. “Pretty strong. Anaphylactic.”

I raised a brow.

Will leaned in. “It affected her breathing—her throat and windpipe would have closed up if she was triggered.”

“Aha. Here we go.” The old man withdrew a scrap of parchment with scribbles in black ink all over it—a recipe. He hobbled back to us at the counter and set it down. “See? It’s why I made her the potion in a vial form, if she could drink it.” He flipped the card over and tapped the ink on the other side. “But I also gave it to her in shot form, in case her throat closed up and she couldn’t swallow.”

I frowned down at the card. “Peter didn’t mention finding a vial or a shot of that potion.” I bit my lip—had someone stolen it from her, or had she possibly run out? “When was the last time Letty filled a prescription for this?”

“Ha!” The old man barked out a laugh. “I’m working out of an alley in the Darkmoon—you think I go off prescriptions?”

Fair point.

“But let’s see…” He looked over the card, dates scribbled down the right-hand side of it. “I remember seeing her recently. Yes, here we go—about ten days ago.”

I shook my head. She definitely hadn’t run out if she’d just stocked up on it. So where were the vial and the shot then?

I patted the counter. “Thanks.” I was about to suggest to Will and Heidi that we go, but another thought occurred to me. “One more question.”

The old guy narrowed his pale eyes.

“Let’s say someone had been cursed”—I scratched the back of my neck—“several years ago and she didn’t know exactly what curse had been used, but she’d lost her powers and—”

The old guy interrupted me. “Girl, listen good to me.” He leaned forward. “It’s dangerous to even try curing something like that.”

I sucked on my lips. “How dangerous? I know someone who wants to try.”

He paled and looked between Will, Heidi, and me. “You lot shifters?”

Will and I nodded.

He backed up, shaking his head. “Ludolf’s testing on you?”

I frowned. “How’d you know?”

He held up his palms. “I don’t want any part of this.” He dipped his chin, muttering to himself. “That man’s obsessed with finding a cure.”

I darted a quick glance at Will, who looked as confused as I was, then snapped my gaze back to Alabaster. “A cure? A cure for what?”

He looked up, eyes wide. “You working Letty’s case? Are you that gal working for the cops?”

I had a sinking feeling that this interview was over. “Yeah.”

He pointed to the door. “Out! Now! And you forget you were here.”

I held my ground and glared at him. “What is Ludolf looking for a cure for?”

He shook his head and came around the side of the counter, brandishing his wand.

“Eep!” Heidi held up her palms and slid toward the door. “We should go, guys.”

Will grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the door, but I kept my eyes on the agitated old man.

“A cure for what?!”

He shook his finger at me. “I’ve said too much already. Out! And don’t come back!”

“Jolene! Let’s go.” Will dragged me after him.

“Fine.” I gave the old man one last hard look, then turned and followed Will and Heidi out.

The second we stepped onto the stoop, the door magically slammed behind us, locks clicking into place. I let out a heavy sigh—we’d come here for answers, but now I had more questions than ever.

11

Family Crest

The next night, Peter, Daisy, and I stood on the top step of the castle’s entryway in front of the tall, arched wood doors. The Sansea Winds whipped around us, blowing my hair into my mouth. Yeck.

Peter cast me a doubtful side-eye. “Sorry—you’re telling me you went to see an unlicensed potion maker?”

I nodded. “Yeah—the one who made Letty’s anti-allergy potion. He said he gave it to her in a drinkable vial form and as a shot.” I raised my brows. “Where the shell were those? Your team didn’t find them anywhere?”

Peter let out a heavy sigh. “No, they didn’t.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before shooting me an exasperated look. “Again, though—an illegal potion maker?” He lifted a broad palm. “I am an officer of the law, you know?” He curled his lip. “Are you going to at least tell me where this guy is so I can shut him down?”

I smirked. “Yes, I know you’re a cop, but I’m not.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “Which is how I get you this secret intel sometimes.” I winked, but Peter just shook his head and turned back to the door.

“I’m not comfortable with this.” He lifted his fist to knock, but hesitated. Pointy iron rivets studded the medieval door.

A jolt of annoyance ran through me. Yeah, and he wasn’t comfortable with me being a shifter, either. The guy needed to let go of his rosy view of how the world should be and accept what it was.

I pointed to his right, and he followed my gaze to

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