Jacqueline
A freaking dragon.
Jacqueline inspected Apollo—Pol—from under her eyelashes. In his human shape, dressed in a pair of Arlo’s old pants—seriously, at this rate Arlo would be lucky if he had any clothes left—there was no sign that he was anything other than human.
But wasn’t that the case with all of them? The kids just seemed like normal kids, if a bit strange—well, normal-for-kids strange. And Arlo…
Her heart fluttered as she glanced at him. He was showing Kenna and Dylan how to ease the boat into dock. The wind riffled through his hair and he looked up—to check their course, not to look at her, of course—but she blushed anyway.
“So, Jacqueline.” Pol came over and leaned on the railing with her, though she noticed he kept a careful couple of feet of space between them. She blushed again, for a different reason. Everyone must have seen him avoiding shaking her hand earlier. Like she had cooties or something.
She suddenly realized she hadn’t heard a word Pol had said. She shook her head.
“Sorry, what was that? I was distracted.”
Pol chuckled. “Understandable! I was saying, so you’re from Dunston? Did you get hit badly by the weather this last week?”
At least shifters are the same as regular humans in one respect. The weather is always a safe topic of conversation.
“Absolutely. The town’s Spring festival starts this weekend, so everyone’s glad things have cleared up.”
“And you’re missing the celebrations?”
“I was…” Jacqueline’s brain swerved around the subject of why she hadn’t
been at the Spring Fling. “I work at the sheriff’s office, and I was on phone duty last night. Not that that’s usually much help to anyone after one of those storms…”
She told Pol about the urban legend of curses riding the breeze from Hideaway Cove. When she got to the bit about electronics going haywire, he went pale.
Oh God. Have I said something incredibly rude? What have I done now? She bit her lip.
“You’re sure it was only after the storm?” Pol asked urgently.
“Ye-es.” Jacqueline was still running over the last few minutes of conversation to make sure she hadn’t accidentally said anything insulting. Joking about a tired urban legend wasn’t insulting, was it? Or maybe it was for shifters. “I mean, it’s probably just some crossed wires somewhere, or…”
“That wouldn’t explain the car.” Pol dropped his head into his hands and groaned. “I had no idea this was happening!”
His shoulders stiffened and he turned to Arlo. “Did you know about this?”
“Only since yesterday!” Arlo grinned. “Maybe it’s time you got that electrician’s certificate after all, eh sparky?”
“Haunted cars.” Pol groaned. “This is humiliating.”
“That’s what makes it so great.” Arlo’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he caught Jacqueline’s look of confusion. “If you hadn’t guessed, Pol here is the friend I wanted to see hear that story. He’s got some powers over electricity—some dragon thing that even he doesn’t understand.”
“Hey!” Pol objected.
Arlo snorted at him. “Half the places in town only run because he’s poked his nose into them. I keep telling him he needs to learn how electricity is meant to work before he ends up wiring us all up backwards, but will he listen?”
“Haunted cars,” Pol repeated.
Jacqueline laughed. She couldn’t help it, it was too ridiculous. Pol looked so stricken, and Arlo so smug, and the kids were staring at the town like all of their dreams had come true.
Kenna and Dylan helped Arlo dock at the wharf next to his workshop. Pol, still looking vaguely shell-shocked, ducked inside muttering that he had to sort something out, and the remaining five of them headed for the main street.
“So you’re telling me Pol just… magics up electricity for the town?” Jacqueline was still trying to get her head around it.
“Something like that, the idiot.”