It was Monday. That meant I would make all the usual cupcakes, plus an extra forty-five strawberry for Mr. Nelson’s weekly lunch meeting at the boat club. And Clara would need help with the bread, because Mr. Nelson would also want forty-five pretzel rolls. My afternoon and evening were open, but I had a feeling Diesel would fill the empty spaces.

I poured the brewed coffee into a travel mug, added a splash of half-and-half, stuffed myself into a sweatshirt, and grabbed my purse. Diesel had taken the Lovey key and Reedy’s papers with him, but the Shakespeare anthology was still on the counter. I stared at the anthology and thought about Hatchet and Wulf… that they might be lurking in the dark somewhere between me and my car, waiting to snatch me.

If I’d let Diesel spend the night, he would have protected me against all sorts of drooly, knuckle-dragging, bloodsucking monsters. Problem was, who would protect me from Diesel? Diesel was six foot three inches of mouth-watering, heart-stopping male temptation. He was annoying, charming, pushy, practically leaking testosterone, and he always smelled great. He also was off-limits. According to Diesel, if two people with exceptional abilities do the deed, one of them loses all their special skills, and there’s no way to tell which one will lose. It’s a total bummer, because if I could be sure it would be me, I’d be happy to make the sacrifice. Unfortunately, if it was Diesel and I had to save the world all by myself, I’d be up the creek without a paddle.

I peeked out the front window at my car. It was sitting under a streetlight only a few steps from my door. No sign of Wulf or Hatchet. Houses were dark across the street. Most of Marblehead was still asleep. Cat was leaning against my leg.

“What do you think?” I asked Cat. “Is it safe?”

Cat blinked, and I took that to mean yes.