Aunt Mandy returned with a stern look.
“What did I do, now? I’m just sitting here.” She might as well be my mom. Part of me still felt bad for my teenage years when that was my go to excuse for being a bit wild and rebellious.
“Esme says Mrs. O’Conner wasn’t happy today.”
“She only likes you or the twins. The woman is hard to please. Normally, they get it right, but Esme is the one who splashed the coffee on her. Iced coffee, thankfully.” I didn’t want to think about the hot coffee lawsuit threats.
“She needs to rest. She needs some cat time. I’ve worked her too hard this morning.” Aunt Mandy grabbed a juice and sat down.
“She’s a really strong witch.” I rolled my eyes.
“And that hunter was in really bad shape. Still is. He could’ve bled out. Vin should’ve taken him to the hospital.” She took a bite of her grilled cheese, and it helped her relax.
“I told him that. I didn’t examine the guy too closely—he was all flirty and weird. But those leg wounds…” I shrugged.
“Herbs and magic can’t solve everything. Maybe he tangled with more than one werewolf. Is that why you think he’s not being totally truthful?” my aunt asked.
I added crackers to my soup. “I don’t know. He’s not local. He needs to go back where his people are,” I said.
“He tracked the werewolf through the Carolinas, but if he goes back, they’ll arrest him. Let Vin manage him.” Aunt Mandy finished off her sandwich and started on some soup.
“He tends to take on more than he should and help other hunters. He needs to find some home for wayward hunters and park this guy there.” I took a big bite of my sandwich.
My aunt eyed the sandwich. “You don’t mind helping werewolves. Why resist helping hunters?”
“They’re human. They have everyone out there to help them. I get he’s running from a charge that isn’t fair, but he can go to the hospital here. Where he can be treated in the best way. Then, he could move on. He’s far enough away from the scene of the crime. He’s a drain on us and trouble,” I said.
“Your uncle was trouble back in the day.” She smiled like a schoolgirl in love.
“What made you and Mom want to marry hunters?” I asked.
She went a bit pale and took a drink of her juice. “I was intrigued by the gypsy culture. I thought it was just expanding my horizons with friends, but it turned into more. Vin has a good code of ethics. Not all hunters do, I admit it.”
“And my dad?” I asked.
“Well, he wasn’t a gypsy. Your mom met him through Vin. Hunters are always running into each other on a case. Your dad handled some very dangerous vampire nests. He always tried to get the lone ones to accept help. Your mom was trying to find a way to give that help. I mean, she had the potion for werewolves not to turn. But vampires needed to feed. It took time. You’ve advanced their goals. But we all take a risk,” she said.
It was nothing I hadn’t heard before. She never gave too many details. I’d asked many times over the years for more info, but it upset her. She lost her sister; I lost my parents. For me, it was a blurry memory of a big black werewolf. She’d lost her friend since childhood. I hated to push and upset her.
“Risk like that hunter. Next time Mrs. O’Conner comes in, I’ll make sure you serve her. It’s the only way to keep her happy,” I said.
“Esme said she won’t be back,” Aunt Mandy replied.
“She always comes back. I offered her free coffee for a month. She’ll be back in a day or two, complaining about the other places.” I laughed.
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but Esme seemed very pleased and sure of her prediction. I should go relieve her. Let her get a real nap without keeping one eye on that kid,” she said.
“I’ll clean up, check on things out front, and then start the healing potion.” I took a drink of my fruit mixer.
“Good. But I agree with what you said earlier today. Keep the twins away from him. You should avoid him, too,” Aunt Mandy said.
“Why me?” I asked. “Iris acted the same way. Like I should avoid him. What’s the problem? What don’t I know?”
My aunt swallowed hard. “I don’t know what she meant. You tend to take on the toughest jobs, and perhaps, she thinks you need a break. Have some fun. Esme can babysit him. She’s seen men flirt for over a century. Nothing will get by her.”
“I thought Esme took on some more witches for her private magic tutoring. She’s got to be busy with them. Plus, he’s in my shop. I have to be able to handle him if he acts up in the night.” I shrugged.
“I know, and of course you can in a pinch. He’s just the type who wants all the attention he can get, and he’ll play games. Don’t feed that. The vampires can overpower him if he acts up. Just lock him up. Esme may have more clients, but she’ll always make time for you.” Aunt Mandy patted my arm.
“Lock him up? What have you done with my hippie, always kind aunt who thought locking the cats out of the café level was cruel?” Something wasn’t adding up.
She smiled weakly. “I want to trust everyone, but your instincts said you didn’t trust him. I believe in your instincts. We need to help him but not let him cause trouble in our lives. Everything is connected, and he could cause waves of good or storms of bad. As soon as he shows signs of the bad, he must be contained. The cages are safe for werewolves—there’s nothing dangerous about locking the cage to be sure he does what Vin thinks is best. Young hunters are impulsive and rash. He could run off too soon and get hurt again or an infection take over because he’s weak. It’s for his own good. Sometimes, we have to do bad things for the greater good.”
I knew when to stop arguing. “That’s quite a speech. Fine, if he acts up, the cage. The vamps will put him there. Just the odd well check and food delivery.”
“Vamps can do that, too. I don’t think we need to get too close to this hunter,” she said.
“You don’t want any of your girls marrying hunters?” I teased.
She waved me off with a chuckle and grabbed another juice before she left.
I left a note for our overnight baristas, who had the most free time to mix up a new blend of fruit mixer. The strawberry kiwi was too sweet. It needed more of a blackberry undertone, even with the grape in the mix.
For now, I had to mix a powerful potion. They weren’t the most glamorous part of the witch world, but they packed a punch. I debated adding a backup potion of cat got your tongue to the main one. Shutting up that hunter would help calm things down tremendously.
Chapter 3
Walking into the coven room on the second floor, I locked the door behind me. The smell of sage and other herbs ignited the witch in me. Soothing customers and keeping my aunt happy were part of my life, but magic was my purpose.
The paranormal world felt more natural to me. Part of me would love to ignore reality and the humans, but that’s how problems start. Too often, paranormal creatures would avoid humans and eventually let their guard down.
Grabbing a small cauldron, I assessed what ingredients I’d need. I gathered everything for a healing potion and began to mix it. The sooner he was healed, the sooner he could get on with his life. But my aunt said he was really injured. Should I make this potion extra strong? Then, he might push himself, and he’d relapse.
He needed to sleep more than anything. I added herbs to encourage sleeping. Once everything was in, I cleaned up. Taking the cauldron with me, I locked the room and headed down the stairs.
Sure, I got a few odd looks, carrying a straight up cauldron, but the café was called Witch’s Brew. Some thought it was a joke or a nod to the old witch trials. Others knew that my aunt was part of the Wiccan religion. As long as she didn’t recruit, no one seemed to care.
I headed straight downstairs and found Aunt Mandy forcing tea on the hunter. Esme sat in the corner in cat form, swishing her tail back and forth.
“Is he cooperating?” I asked.
“I’ll do anything yo
u say,” he teased.
“How much have you had to drink?” I asked.
“Not much. But your aunt’s pain medication is wonderful.” He smiled.
“That’s so you can rest. The healing will take days,” my aunt replied.
Esme darted under his cot and batted out a phone. One of those pay-as-you-go burner phones a lot of hunters used to make themselves harder to trace.
“Look at this. Who did you need to call?” I asked Ryan.
“I have friends. I needed to touch base. The cops are still looking for me. Can’t go back. Sorry,” he said with a smirk.
“This will help.” I set the cauldron down.
Esme dashed off into another area and returned in human form wearing a long dress but no shoes.
“I heard you had a problematic customer. I could take care of that for you. Ladies love me.” He laughed.
“How much did you give him?” I asked my aunt.
“He was in a lot of pain when we cleaned the wounds.” She shrugged.
Esme cleared her throat. “The customer won’t return. I’ve seen it.”
“I think she might with that free coffee offer,” I said.
“I can’t explain it, but my visions are rarely wrong,” Esme said.
I knew she was right.
“Who is dumb enough to mess with witches? You could turn her into a frog,” he said.
“I could turn you into a frog. Keep you in a cage—it’d be less trouble.” I grinned.
“And miss all this?” He gestured to his body.
He was hot. They’d left him shirtless and in nothing but boxers. The wounds were extensive and all over. Deep gashes. The werewolf or wolves had gotten a hold of him for some time.
“You’re lucky to be alive. You need to sleep, eat, get your bandages changed, and go back to sleep.” I held up the cauldron.
“That sounds boring,” he said.
Esmerelda mixed the potion and nodded. We whispered the spell over it then poured it into his glass. My aunt helped him get the glass to his lips.
He got half of the potion down. “That tingles. You ladies are too strong to let some human complain and ruin your business.”
“She didn’t ruin our business. And you’re a human, so should we not help you?” I asked.
“I’m a hunter. I know all about you. I help keep the humans from going crazy and attacking the paranormal world by weeding out the evil ones like rabid dogs.”
My aunt pushed the second half of the potion on him.
“We’d rather everyone get along, but you are a necessary evil, for now,” I said.
“You don’t like me because I know too much about you witches. But you shouldn’t let regular clueless humans push you around. You’re strong.” He gulped down the rest of it.
“I’m strong enough to put you in your place if you need it. Esmerelda could smoke you into nothing with no effort.” I smiled at her.
“Don’t forget it.” She pointed at him.
“You’re very strong. I want to help you if I can. I like you ladies.” He snuggled up with the pillow and reached out.
He grabbed my hand.
“No, grabby,” I said.
“I expected more of a hands-on healing.” He pouted.
Esme slapped him across the face. “You’re doped up enough now that we can sew up the cuts, and that potion will help you.”
“Yeah, if you grab or touch anyone, I’ll have the vampires toss you out in the snow and drain you if you try to get back in. I don’t like gropey guys,” I warned him.
“You gave me all this. I’m used to pain, not drugs,” he admitted.
“Maybe I did overdo it,” Aunt Mandy admitted.
“No, don’t blame yourself. He should be at a hospital, not here. We can put him in a cage or tie his hands to the cot,” I suggested.
Esme nodded and waved her hand. Rope appeared and tightly knotted his wrists to the metal sides of the cot.
“You think this will hold me?” He smirked.
“It’ll slow you down if you want to grab someone. If you want to leave, we’ll let you go,” I offered.
“I’m not a good guest. I’m a lone wolf.” He laughed and howled.
I looked up. We didn’t need him freaking out the customers. “You’re tripping. No more pain meds. Maybe I should take your phone while you’re out of it.”
“No! I’m not a prisoner. I appreciate you letting me stay here, but I need to stay in touch with my friends and other hunters. I have to know what’s going on with my case.” He clutched the phone.
“He’ll be less happy soon.” My aunt got out a suture kit.
“You know what you’re doing?” he asked.
“I’ve sewn up my husband plenty.” My aunt pulled a chair up. “It’s really just his leg that needs it. I can tape the others together.”
“Fine.” I glared at the hunter. “Don’t give up your location. I’m not an accessory to anything.”
“I’d never endanger my helpers.” He hissed when my aunt stuck a needle in his skin.
“Just a little local numbing,” she said.
I turned to Esme. “You can go. I’ll watch him.”
Esme nodded and headed upstairs.
“Don’t worry. I won’t lay a hand on your aunt. Her husband would kill me,” he said.
“Not if I get you first. And I hide bodies better than hunters do.” I tossed the cup he’d been drinking from in the air. With a flick of my fingers, it was gone in a puff of smoke.
“Hot,” he said.
“Men.” I shook my head. All the good-looking ones were evil, human, or stupid. This guy was two out of three. I wasn’t convinced which two yet, but time would reveal all.
Chapter 4
Running into the darkness, I dared to glance back. I couldn’t see the werewolf, but I heard the snarls and howls. I ran faster until my heart felt like it would explode in my chest. Finally, I found a tree and transfigured into a cat. I climbed the tree and went as high as I could without breaking a branch.
The sounds seemed to be coming closer. That only made the terror worse. It sounded like a pack was surrounding me.
“No!” I shouted as I sat up in bed. Even knowing it was a dream didn’t stop the fear.
I hadn’t had those dreams in a while. The cold sweat made me shiver, but I threw off the covers, anyway. It had to be the presence of the hunter.
The dreams had plagued me when I was young. As the memory of my mother’s death faded, I just had nightmares about being chased by a werewolf myself. It didn’t matter that my uncle had killed the werewolf that murdered my parents.
In this dream, I felt like I was chasing a secret. Maybe it was whatever my aunt and Iris were talking around. Hunters had never been a sore point, before but we’d never known any but gypsy hunters as far back as I could remember. I didn’t really remember my dad… He was the only non-gypsy hunter I knew of. They were rare and not trusted in gypsy circles. Nothing clicked. The puzzle was giving me a headache.
I trudged to the bathroom and washed my face. My little loft apartment on the top floor was perfect for me. Open space done in dark greens and dark purples. I could be myself here. But the idea that there was a hunter in the basement of the building made me anxious.
Hunters were a necessary evil. Some vampires and werewolves always refused to coexist peacefully. The vamps wanted real hot blood from a human. The werewolves needed to hunt and experience their wolfie side. Or so they claimed.
Killing humans or other vampires or werewolves, that was murder. They had to be held accountable, and there was no prison to hold them. Human justice wasn’t aware enough or evolved enough to understand the needs. No vampire or werewolf council existed to judge them or set down laws. The witch’s council was a reassuring international body that brought order for us. The hunter problems were relatively few when they were gypsy hunters. They had their own way of keeping order. But the rogue non-gypsy hunters were more dangerous.
On the fli
p side, some hunters were too into their work and judged unsafe. What was to stop them from someday rising up against witches? If Ryan decided I was too powerful, would he kill me?
What had kept them in check was their loner lifestyle. They had a loose network, but they called on each other only in emergencies. At least, those were the non-Romani hunters. The gypsy hunters had a network and could easily wage a war, but they respected the right of the paranormal to live. The Nazis had tried to exterminate the gypsies, so the gypsies were not about to treat others that way.
No, the loner hunters worried me more.
I checked my phone to see if there were any issues or problems. It sucked that I slept so hard I’d never hear my text notification. Luckily, my family and staff knew to call me, not just text, if they really needed me.
Brad had texted that he’d brought the clothes for donation.
Damn!
I ran my fingers through my hair and checked in a mirror that the bedhead wasn’t too awful. Finding the jeans I’d worn today on the floor, I slid them back on. I’d fallen asleep in my pink T-shirt that had the café’s name on it, so I stepped into my fuzzy black cat slippers and headed downstairs.
Brad and the other baristas all wore shirts in various colors with the same logo. I liked my little coffee shop, especially now when it was quiet. Some college kids and night owls occupied tables, but there was no rush or unhappy customers.
I slid behind the counter, and Brad handed me a bag.
“Thanks,” I said.
“No problem. It’s quiet tonight. But rumor is you’ve got a guest,” Brad said.
He leaned on the counter and then shifted his posture and wiped a towel across the prep area. The fidgeting told me he was uneasy.
“Have you heard anything from downstairs? He’s supposed to stay down there,” I said.
Brad shook his head. “Nothing. I just don’t like the feel of him. The smell,” he said.
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