ChapterOne
July 2003
Vancouver, BC, Canada
Reika Hashimoto finished locking up the bakery where she worked and headed down the street, toward the waterfront and the nearby Pacific Spirit Park. Thanks to it being summer, it was still light enough at closing time for her to take a walk to gather her thoughts and brainstorm all the ideas, and projects, and restaurants she hoped to open one day before she had to catch the bus back home.
For the most part, she didn't mind working at the bakery. Since she was half fae witch and half shifter, her witch side was dominant, and she had the ability to improve the taste of anything organic with her magic. Working with food and cooking in any capacity made her happy, plus her boss was her stepdad's friend and had largely left her in charge of the menu, with a few caveats.
But even if it'd been good experience to learn the day-to-day operations of a food-related business, it was a far cry from being able to run her own place and be the boss. Her dream was to have a place where there was a bakery on one side that included both Canadian favorites and those she missed from Japan, and on the other? A real restaurant that did the same sort of blending of her two homes.
Quite the ambition for someone only twenty-five years old, but Reika was close, so close, to being able to start putting her plans into action. Maybe one more year of saving and then she could start with a small bakery of her own, taking the all-important first step toward her bigger dreams.
If only obaa-chan were still alive.Even though she'd moved to Canada at age ten, when her mother had remarried a Canadian shifter, Reika had still spent every New Year's with her paternal grandmother in Japan up until she passed away a few years ago. The days of them makingosechi ryori—special New Year's dishes—were still some of her favorite memories. It was because of her grandmother that Reika had learned to love cooking in the first place, years before discovering her magical abilities.
Although she still hadn't returned to Otsu, her old hometown, since her grandmother's death. It was simply too painful. Especially since her dad had died when she'd been eight, and her mother's family hadn't approved of their fae witch daughter marrying an Asian bear shifter, and wanted nothing to do with them.
She'd also lost touch with the friends she'd once had.
But someday she'd return and face all the memories and learn to love her favorite places again. She had plenty of time in the future to go back to Japan and enjoy the things she missed from her first home, relive them, and maybe go searching for every bakery she could find, for inspiration.
When she reached the park, the sight of the trees and open spaces brought her back from her memories—this was one of her favorite spots in the city. She took in the birds chirping, the squirrels dashing across trails, and even a few people kicking around a ball on the grass. It reminded her that even if she'd been born in Japan, Vancouver was what felt like home to her these days. And she couldn't wait to finally move out of her parents' house and take the city by storm. One day she'd be a big-shot chef, with reservations months in advance; she was sure of it.
Smiling, she strode down one of her usual trails, passing through the mixed trees and abundance of wild, green underbrush that signaled summer in the Pacific Northwest.
As she trailed her fingers over some ferns, she enjoyed the cool shade. The one thing she absolutely did not miss about Japan was late summer. Vancouver never suffered the same kind of humidity and heat.
She walked until she finally came to a bench overlooking the sea, sat down, and took out her small notebook and pen from her backpack. She had roughly an hour before she had to catch the bus back to Surrey—she still lived with her parents to better save money—and so she quickly started jotting down ideas for how her bakery or restaurant would look, what kind of new recipes she could offer, and random ideas about what to experiment with at home in the kitchen.
Time passed, the light grew dimmer, and she was just about to head back to her bus stop when it felt as if something tugged her back and down. The feeling grew stronger, to the point she dropped her notebook and pen and struggled to breathe. Before she could attempt a scream, the world went dark.
ChapterTwo
July 1890
London, England
Stone Riley had long ago learned not to hope for anything good to happen.
Apart from the vampire Dark Lord of London, Leopold Yates, taking a chance on him despite his dodgy past, his life had been pretty shite up until that point. His mother had been a whore, one who had eventually sold him to a fighting ring master at age nine so she could feed her opium addiction.
Then a few years after that, he'd been sold again. This time he'd spent more than a decade serving as someone's pet, wearing a fucking collar that chafed and left a lifetime scar, with no say in anything he did, or ate, or wore while under their thumb.
Only when he'd finally killed the bastard and his twisted wife had Stone been able to flee, doing his best to eke out a living as a prize fighter in the rookeries. That was until he’d eventually caught the notice of Yates and started working for the vampire.
It'd been nearly twenty years since he'd finally climbed out of the stews into something bordering on respectable. He was in charge of all security for the Dark Lord's gaming hell, had Yates's trust, and could afford a house of his own, if he wished.
But he preferred living in the employee flats next door. They were cheap and allowed him to save up his money just in case something went wrong.
Because every day he worried it would all come crashing down.
Which was why it was fucking stupid for him to even be curious about who the time-wielder had managed to bring to London this time. He, she, or they would be a fated one or ones for someone who worked inside the Fated Wheel gaming hell.
Stone should've told Yesenia—the Dark Lord's wife and fae witch time-wielder—to leave him out of her latest matchmaking attempt, but he hadn't for two reasons. One, the fae witch was still learning how to use her magic and the more people she could possibly find a fated one for, the easier it would be for her to grow stronger, and Stone had wanted to help. And two, deep down, in that small part of him that hadn't died and given up all fucking hope when his mother had sold him, he longed to find his fated female.
Not because he believed he deserved love. No, his mother had made sure to tell him repeatedly he was some patron's accident and should be grateful to merely be alive.
However, his sire had been some unnamed vampire, and given how shifter genes were never dominant over fae witches or vampires—only human ones—his vampire half ruled his biology. That included the fact his heart had stopped beating twelve years ago and he missed being able to fuck.