Spellbinding Starters

by Annabel Chase

  After the early morning interview of Iris, my body was begging for caffeine. It wasn’t often that I was up at the butt crack of dawn, and I didn’t intend to make a habit of it. I remembered Tanya mentioning a coffee shop near Willow Park called the Caffeinated Cauldron, so I decided to check it out.

  The Caffeinated Cauldron was teeming with people when I arrived. It appeared to be the ‘before work’ crowd, getting their fix before a long day at the office or on the retail floor. I stepped up to the counter expecting to order something basic like a hazelnut coffee. My gaze traveled over the menu on the wall and I quickly realized this was no Starbucks. Everything seemed to have a magical bent. Based on the number of unfamiliar words, I’d need an interpreter to help me figure out what to order.

  "You look confused," the barista said. "Is there something I can help you with?" She was a petite brunette with a sprinkle of freckles. Not small enough or green enough to be a leprechaun.

  “I’m new here," I said. "I mean, really new here, and I have no idea what any of these descriptions mean. What’s a lava latte?"

  The barista smiled. "That one has a bit of a kick to it."

  “A kick? As in a lot of caffeine?"

  “There's caffeine in it, but it's magic that gives it the real flavor." She glanced up at the menu. "Tell me what experience you're looking for, and I'll see if I can point you to the right drink."

  What experience was I looking for? I was in a coffee shop, not a theme park. I pondered the menu. "I'm looking to wake up and get through the rest of the day without crashing. I was up earlier than usual and I need to not crawl under my desk for a two-hour nap."

  "Well, we have several options for you, in that case. We have the Bippity Bop latte, the Halo Effect latte, and you can get any coffee with a shot of these.” She pointed to a long list on the left side of the menu.

  “What’s a shot of brain booster?” I asked. If that made me smarter, I was all over it.

  “Clears the cobwebs from your mind,” the barista said. “People tend to get that at the beginning or end of the day.”

  Made sense. “I’ll try a black coffee with a shot of eyes-wide-open.”

  "Good choice." The barista moved swiftly to prepare my drink. Across the room, I spotted a familiar figure in a perfectly tailored light gray suit and a pale pink tie. He was seated at a table with another man I didn't know. The man had brown hair and a scruffy beard, but it was the two small horns on his head that caught my attention. Who was Mr. Hale having coffee with—the Jersey devil?

  I paid for my coffee, took a long sip, and went to greet my boss. He’d want to know about my conversation with Iris.

  I approached him from behind and clapped a hand on his broad shoulder.

  "Fancy meeting you here, boss. I was desperate for some artificial energy. It isn't every day that I get up before the sun, although I guess you’re used to that." My mouth seemed to be moving faster than normal and that was saying something.

  "Good morning, Miss Rose," Mr. Hale said. He did not look pleased to see me. It occurred to me that this was not a social meeting. Then I remembered the story he mentioned at the soccer game.

  I snapped my fingers. “Oh, this must be your source for the blood contamination story," I said. I turned and faced the horned man. “Dude, give him all the information you have. If someone is covering up a deadly mistake like that, they deserve to have their derriere nailed to the wall."

  The man stiffened and glanced quickly at Mr. Hale. “Alec?”

  I began to get a bad feeling about my word vomit.

  "Miss Rose, allow me to introduce you to Craig Dean, the CEO of Bloodspring.”

  Popcorn balls.

  I did my best to make light of it. "Of course I know this is Mr. Dean," I said. "You know how I love to say ridiculous things that have absolutely no basis in reality." I gave Mr. Dean a playful punch on the arm. "You don't know this about me, but I am a huge practical joker. Mr. Hale is learning the hard way."

  Anger flashed in his blue eyes. "Yes, the hard way, indeed."

  I had to get out of Dodge before he lost his temper. My gut told me that a restrained vampire like Alec Hale harbored the worst kind of temper.

  "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Dean. I'll be in the office, Mr. Hale, writing up my notes from my talk with Iris."

  I didn’t wait for a response. I hightailed it out of the coffee shop and hustled back to the office, resisting the urge to look over my shoulder. If I could type up my story quickly, then I could escape before Mr. Hale returned. I was fairly certain this was the kind of mistake that would cost me my job.

  Bentley and Tanya were in the office when I got there.

  "What's wrong with you?" Bentley asked, tactful as usual. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  I stopped short. "Is that possible here?" Although I’d taken witches, werewolves, and vampires in stride, I wasn't so sure about ghosts.

  "Not likely," he said. "Unless you’re a psychic or a sorceress."

  Not entirely comforting. It implied that there were ghosts afoot, but I just couldn’t see them.

  "I'd offer you a drink," Tanya said, "but I can see you already have a coffee. Did you happen to see Mr. Hale in there? I know he was meeting with Mr. Dean from Bloodspring.”

  "Yes," I said, dropping into my chair. "I discovered that by accident." Me and my big mouth. "I thought he was meeting with his source for the blood contamination story."

  Bentley shot me a look of concern. "Technically, he was. He'd been meeting with Craig Dean under the pretense of talking about investing in a new community pool, but he was using it as an excuse to listen to his thoughts. That's how Alec learned of the incident in the first place. He caught a snippet of Mr. Dean’s thoughts in a restaurant and decided to dig further.“

  I covered my face with my hands. And now I had completely blown his cover. Mr. Dean would be able to hide any evidence of wrongdoing and Mr. Hale wouldn’t get his story.

  I was doomed.

  "What happened, Rose?" Bentley asked. "Why do I get the feeling that you said something you shouldn’t have?"

  I peeked at him through my fingers. "Because I always say something I shouldn't have. It's the highlight of my personality. Haven't you figured that out yet?"

  Bentley sighed and rolled his chair closer to mine. "Listen, we all make mistakes. The fact that Alec hasn't come back to the office yet, ready to annihilate you, is a good sign, right? Maybe you didn't say as much as you think you did."

  I repeated the conversation in Caffeinated Cauldron.

  "Okay, forget everything I said,” Bentley groaned. “You’re ashes in a Phoenix’s fire."

  I didn’t know what the expression meant, but it sounded like I was dead meat. "Is he going to fire me?"

  Tonya and Bentley exchanged uneasy glances.

  "He doesn't suffer fools gladly," Tanya said.

  Well, that was something he and I had in common.

  "Tell you what," Bentley said. "Why don't you write up whatever it is you came to do and leave it here? Then stay out of sight as long as possible and maybe it will blow over. I'll make sure he gets your work.”

  I stared at Bentley. "Why are you being nice to me? I thought you didn't want me here. Another legacy hire, remember?“

  Bentley shrugged. "Purely for selfish reasons. It's kind of nice having someone lower than me in the ranks. As you can see, we’re a barebones staff.”

  Selfish or not, I appreciated his support. "Okay, I'm going to whip this up as quickly as I can and then go into hiding. Possibly forever."

  I opened the laptop on the desk and typed up my conversation with Iris. I wrote it the way I would have told the story to Mr. Hale in the office. Blunt and concise. I didn't have time to spruce it up and ponder Marley’s list of fancy words.

  "I've emailed you a copy," I told Bentley. "I don't want to email him directly." Not like he could climb out of the screen and get me. He wasn't the freaky character in The Ring, after all.

  "I'l
l pray for you," Tanya said.

  "Thanks." I wasn't sure which deity she prayed to, but it didn't really matter. I needed all the help I could get.

  I hid in the cottage until it was time to pick up Marley from school. There was still no word from Mr. Hale. I decided to have a look at the job listings in town to see what other options existed for me. I suspected there would not be much I was qualified to do and I was right. I could get a cashier job at one of the grocery stores, but the money would not be very much. Although we were currently living rent-free, I wasn't sure whether that was a permanent arrangement. What if I suddenly needed to cover greater expenses? How would I manage? Fear shot through me at the prospect of failing Marley once again. That little girl had had enough disappointment in her life. I couldn't be another speed bump on her life’s highway. I was her mother; I was supposed to be giving her the best start in life.

  After PP3 and I walked Marley home from school, I watched as she did her homework without complaint and without request for help. She was so self-sufficient, so unlike me. How did I manage to produce a child like this?

  "Everything okay today, Mom?" she asked over dinner. I’d made homemade macaroni and cheese with the breadcrumb topping that she liked. Anything to alleviate my guilt.

  "What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  "Because you're quiet," she said. "You’re only quiet if there’s a problem. That’s your tell.“

  I managed a smile. "Oh, I have a tell, do I?"

  "Did something happen at work?” she pressed on. “Or with the murder investigation?"

  I ruffled her hair. "No, everything's fine." I hesitated. “You’ve been doing so well here. You’ve been braver than I ever thought possible. I’m really proud of you.”

  Marley eyed me carefully. “If you’re trying to get me to stop sleeping in your bed, it’s not going to work. Yours is still more comfortable.”

  Although Marley had made great strides in the food department since our arrival, she was still my regular bedtime buddy. Baby steps.

  "What would you say if I had Mrs. Babcock hang out with you tonight?"

  Marley considered me for a moment. She must have sensed my need to get out of the cottage because she didn’t object. “Sounds good to me. We can play chess again. She’s pretty good.”

  “Great, I’ll call her.”

  I had to put distance between us tonight, not because I didn't want to spend time with her, but because I felt like I didn’t deserve to spend time with her. I didn't know where I would go. I just needed to think about how I could make things right, assuming that was even possible.

  I left on foot once Mrs. Babcock arrived. I called each of my cousins to see if I could rustle up a drinking buddy, but no one was available. Linnea had guests at the inn to tend to, Aster was attending a board meeting, and Florian had a date with a smoking hot fairy. It was Florian who suggested I try The Wishing Well.

  "I think you'll be comfortable there,” Florian told me. “And it’s not a vampire hangout. If you’re hiding from Alec, he’s unlikely to find you there.”

  I doubted I’d be comfortable anywhere in Starry Hollow right now, but I took his suggestion and headed over to the bar. Maybe The Wishing Well would live up to its name.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I sat in the bar, nursing my drink and trying not to feel like a complete and utter failure. I knew I wasn't smart enough for this job. That I’d screw it up eventually. Family or not, Aunt Hyacinth couldn't possibly think I was a good addition to the staff after this. I’d made her look stupid for believing in me.

  I pressed my palm against my forehead and sighed. I only hoped Marley wasn’t too disappointed in me. It was her opinion that mattered most.

  "What are you drinking?" the bartender asked.

  I glanced up quickly, only to realize he wasn’t speaking to me, which made sense, given that he was the one who’d made my drink in the first place.

  "I'll have what she's having," a familiar voice said. I looked over to see Sheriff Nash sitting beside me. He wore jeans and a tight black T-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. Off-duty clothes.

  “Are you sure about that, Sheriff?” the bartender asked. "She's having a rum and Coke."

  The sheriff grimaced. "You know me too well, Bo. Pour some whiskey in there instead of rum and I'll be good to go."

  "You got it.” The bartender pulled down a bottle from the shelf to start the sheriff's drink.

  "What's got you crying dragon tears, Rose?” the sheriff asked.

  "Dragon tears? Is that a thing?"

  He shrugged. "It's an expression in the paranormal world. I suspect you'll be hearing a lot of those from now on, so you may as well get used to them."

  I took another sip of my drink. "It seems like there's so much for me to get used to. I'm not sure I can handle it."

  He made a face of mock surprise. "I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure I just heard the Jersey girl say there was something she couldn’t handle." He tapped his ear, as though trying to clear an obstruction. "I couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Do you want to say it again?"

  "You're hilarious," I said. "Are you sure that gold star you wear isn't in recognition of your comic genius?”

  The bartender set the sheriff's drink in front of him.

  "Put it on my tab, will you? And hers, too.”

  Bo nodded and moved to the other end of the bar where two more patrons had settled down on stools.

  "So tell me, Rose. What is it you can’t handle? I’d like to know.”

  I turned away from him and stared into the darkness of my drink. "You wouldn't understand."

  "What is it that you think I wouldn’t understand? Feeling like a unicorn out of the meadow?"

  I scrunched my nose. "Another paranormal expression? Do you know any human ones?"

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Fish out of water?"

  I nodded. "That'll do." I polished off my drink in one large swallow. "I've tried so hard to do what's best for Marley. And now we find ourselves with a chance to start over and do better, but I'm still messing up. I'm being given opportunities that I don't deserve, and I still can't seem to make it work. The only thing I’ve shown my daughter is how to fail at life." I didn't know why I was confiding in him. I blamed the alcohol.

  "What happened? Wait, let me guess. You upset your vampire boss.”

  "You might say that." I wasn't about to get into the details. The sheriff already thought I was an idiot. No need to give him evidence.

  "Newsflash, Rose. Alec Hale thinks everyone who isn't him is a moron. It doesn't make it true."

  "Do you two have a history or something? You really don't seem to like each other very much."

  Before he could answer, Bo placed another rum and Coke on the bar in front of me. Now that was what I called service.

  "I told you before,” Sheriff Nash said. “It's the natural order of things. Werewolves and vampires tend to be at odds.”

  Despite his reasoning, I still got the feeling there was more to the story than he was telling me.

  "So why are you here?" I asked.

  He finished his drink in one long, slow gulp. "This is my regular watering hole. I tend to come here after work to relax." He paused. "Naturally, that got shot to minotaur shit tonight when I walked in and saw you."

  Instinctively, I reached out and smacked his leg. "Hey, that's rude."

  He laughed at my unexpected and violent reaction. "You're lucky I'm off duty or I’d arrest you right now."

  "On what charge? It was self-defense."

  He grinned and I noticed the attractive way his dark eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “I’d charge you with abusing the sheriff," he replied.

  "That's not a real offense," I said.

  "It's offensive to me," he said quickly. He raised his finger and Bo was there in a heartbeat with another drink. "You’re the best, Bo."

  "Why do you come alone?” I asked. "There’s no Mrs. Sheriff to help you re
lax at home?”

  His expression darkened. "No, I can't say there is." Again, I felt like there was a story there, but I didn't push the issue. If there was one thing I’d learned today, it was that I needed to keep my big mouth shut more often.

  "How's the investigation going?" I asked. Although I realized it was slightly dangerous ground, I wanted to change the subject. "Are you sure you didn't follow me here because you still think I'm a suspect?"

  “I’m working on a theory," he said. "You'll be happy to know it doesn’t involve you."

  "Well, that's a relief," I said. "I can cross one reason off the My Life Is In The Toilet list."

  He grinned again. "Glad I could be of service."

  "So how much do you hate my family?" I asked. “On a scale of one to a million?”

  "I don't have the energy for hate," he said. "I just wish they weren't so damned entitled all the time. I mean, I'm a werewolf. I could give two hoots about the One True Witch."

  "But what if it was the One True Werewolf? Which would still be ‘OTW,’ by the way. Wouldn't you think that was pretty special?"

  The sheriff tipped back his glass. "Maybe," he said. "I never really gave it much thought. Who knows? Maybe I am the descendent of the very first werewolf. Although, technically, wouldn't all werewolves be descendants of the original werewolf?"

  I gave him a sly look. "Same might even be said for witches."

  He snorted in that charming way he seemed to have. "I wouldn't be bringing that common sense to the dinner table at Thornhold,” he advised. "You don't want to risk getting on your aunt’s bad side. Trust me, I know."

  "It seems to me it's more your brother who gets under her skin."

  "Yeah, my brother tends to be more ass than wolf. Still, he's my brother and I'll defend him with my last breath."

  "I really like Linnea," I said. “It’s a shame they couldn’t make their marriage work.”

  “Me, too,” the sheriff said.

  I tapped my fingernails on the side of my glass. “Do you think if Linnea had been a werewolf or your brother had been a wizard that their relationship would have lasted? Maybe the whole Romeo and Juliet thing was too much for them.”