“Yeah, you will. Oh, that reminds me. I came by to tell you that your three o’clock appointment with Hamilton is canceled. Do you want me to fill it with someone from the waiting list?” Willow paid rent by being Tori’s personal assistant and secretary. The business side of their friendship benefitted them both, since Willow had the needed skills to manage an office successfully and Tori didn’t.
“Sure. That’s fine,” Tori said, already wishing for her bed upstairs.
“K. See ya. Come on, Igor,” she called to the cat.
Tori reached into the stone bowl and removed the crystal balls. The images of Leif disappeared instantly. Igor’s nails clicked as he stepped down onto the wood chair and his paws thumped as he jumped onto the floor. A twenty-six-pound cat was too much cat, she thought as she took the stones to the sink.
“Put him on a diet,” Tori called over her shoulder.
“He’s not fat…he’s big-boned,” Willow called from over by the door. “And he heard you. You’re going to make him self-conscious if you keep making comments about his size.”
It was a running dialog between them about how ridiculously huge Willow’s cat was. Pets had never been on the top of Tori’s favorite things list. She didn’t hate them, she just never had the urge to care for them, unlike her cousin, Aspen… and apparently Willow too.
“And he makes the perfect guard kitty. Don’t you, my little Igor,” Willow cooed to her house beast as she let herself out.
Tori smiled as she ran cold water over the crystal balls. She set them down in the sink and turned off the water. She grabbed the lit candle from the counter and cleansed them with the flame next. She rinsed them a final time and emptied the scrying bowl. Tori locked her doors and windows. And with the fresh image of Gerard in her mind, she sealed them with a protection spell and went to bed.
Chapter Seven
LEIF STROLLED INTO his office with a relatively clear head for a Monday morning and saw the green envelope sitting on his desktop with his name on it.
To Leif Andersen:
Would you be interested in attaining a caffeinated rush of epic mind-melting proportions while simultaneously delighting your taste buds with an amazingly delicious and unforgettable cup of coffee? If so, please join me at The Magic Bean, Portland, Oregon.
P.S. your GPS will not be able to locate this coffee house. Meet me at the southeast corner of NW 13th and Hoyt, where you will find a gargoyle holding a large coffee mug in his paw. Be there at eight-thirty a.m. I’d like to thank you in person for helping me out the other night.
See you,
Tori Morgan
How could Leif pass up an invitation like that? The handmade paper had bits of fiber and plant matter in it. The texture was like no paper he ever felt before. He wondered if it were actually a kind of heavily starched fabric. The red ink she used penetrated deep into the moss green paper like veins in a delicate leaf. The subtle aroma of her, warm amber with hints of something that reminded him of running through a cedar-filled forest, wafted from the folded sheet and filled his office. He tucked the note back into its envelope. Without a phone number, he wondered if she always corresponded with such opulent and archaic note cards.
“Cora?” Leif walked out of his office holding Tori’s note. “Did you put this on my desk?”
“What is it?”
Well, that answered that. She obviously had never seen the envelope before.
“Nothing. Forget I asked.”
She blinked rapidly at him and returned to staring at her computer screen. He turned on his heel, saw it was five after eight and decided on the spot that drinking coffee with Tori Morgan would be a brilliant idea. There were more than a few things he would like to talk to her about, including the whereabouts of Gerard and a few other pressing matters.
Morning traffic bustled along 13th Street while Leif searched in vain for a gargoyle. When no coffee-consuming gargoyle jumped out at him, he began searching for hidden cameras. The possibility of being punked suddenly seemed much more likely than a clandestine coffee shop.
“You made it,” a voice said on his right.
Leif glanced over his shoulder and found Tori Morgan dressed in slim jogging pants and a comfortable loose top cut wide around the neckline to expose pale shoulders.
“Is there actually a gargoyle on this corner, or did you just make that up to keep me standing here like a fool?”
She gave him that sly smile of hers, leaving the answer a mystery. “Good morning to you, too.” She approached with movements as sleek and fluid as a cat’s. The urge to back away from her before she pounced pushed at his chest, but his curiosity held him rooted to the sidewalk. She lifted a finger to the streetlamp where a sticker with a pointy-eared, pig-snouted gargoyle brandished his coffee mug. In small letters, the mug read The Magic Bean. The direction of the mug pointed down Hoyt.
“You didn’t say to look for a sticker.”
“I was just testing your powers of observation.”
“I would have found it. Eventually,” he amended.
She grinned. Her eyes sparkled and appeared to match in color to the leaves on the trees over their heads.
“I have no doubt about that. Shall we?” Tori inclined her head toward the brick building in invitation.
At this hour of the day, the restaurant on the corner was closed. Leif wondered what she pointed at exactly. The building rose above them four stories high. He supposed there could be a coffee roaster buried inside somewhere. However, he didn’t smell it, which he found odd since fresh roasted coffee beans were an aromatic magnet for most Northwesterners.
“Do you have your invitation?” she asked.
The handmade paper envelope rested inside his inner coat pocket. “I do.”
“Good. That will make it easier to get in.”
“Really?”
“For you. Yes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That’s okay. Since you’re an outsider, you need to be invited in. If you didn’t have my invitation on your person, I could still get you inside, but I’d have to get you a pass first. It’s kind of like having the key to the bathroom at the gas station.” Tori began walking down the length of the brick building.
Leif caught movement along the sidewalk out of the corner of his eye. Like a shadow, it seemed to move with them, except this shadow roughly had the shape of a squat bulldog, with pointed ears and a sharp tail. He blinked and tried to focus on the apparition, but the silhouette disappeared beneath the shade of the trees. He glanced up through the branches but only saw meager patches of blue sky amidst the clouds.
“A members only coffee club?” he asked in disbelief.
“Sort of, but not really,” she said. “It’s a lot to explain if you’re a no-mag.”
“There’s that word again. Are you involved in some kind of cult? I’d like to find out before we go inside.”
Her smile grew wider, and she stifled a laugh. “Yeah. I am. We’re worldwide and plotting a takeover of the human race. If you want more info, come drink coffee with me.” She tilted her head and reached for a door handle that he had not even noticed before she placed her hand on it.
“Coffee with the devil. Sounds like the perfect way to start a Monday.”
He saw her hold back a laugh. She turned so he could no longer see her face and entered through the polished heavy wood door. The etched glass window in the center of the door showed the same gargoyle logo with the mug that read, The Magic Bean. As Leif moved to cross the threshold, he spotted the shadow again. This time it jumped over the brick wall, onto the sidewalk, and back to the lamppost where they had met up. He shook off the queer feeling and took a breath that was suddenly filled with the scent of fragrant roasted coffee beans and fresh baked goods. Tori Morgan may be the end of his sane mind, he decided. At the moment, he was willing to risk a little cognitive stability to find out more about her.
When he caught up with Tori, she stood next to a table full of elderly men and
one woman.
“How was your run?” one man asked.
Tori smiled down at him. “Perfect! The weather is cooperative, and I have to earn my coffee. There are way too many calories in a latte to not work for it.”
“If you were any thinner, you’d disappear. Order yourself a slab of cheesecake right this instant. Besides, you don’t have to run across the free world to enjoy a cup of joe,” he said.
“Calories aren’t even a real thing,” the woman said.
“My backside begs to differ, Maura,” Tori said with a wink. “Oh, gotta go. I don’t want to ignore my friend.” All eyes turned on Leif. Polite smiles met inquisitive eyes.
“Good morning,” he said with a nod to the group.
Tori guided him to the counter to place their orders. She took his arm and leaned in close to his ear. “I call them The Brain Trust. Nice folks, but don’t get them started. You’ll never escape.”
The background noise of the coffee grinder pulverizing beans and rushing steam from the espresso machine covered Tori’s comment from the group. He took her advice in stride and didn’t engage with “The Brain Trust,” being all too familiar with men of retired age looking to make conversation. His own father could bend his ear and not even realize he was doing so after an hour-long discourse over the condition of the roof shingles or the price of gasoline.
They ordered and moved to the end of the counter where a barista with flaming orange and black hair delivered mugs of steaming java to waiting patrons. Leif absorbed the esoteric atmosphere and made a note of the peculiarities. Rough wood timbers framed in the ceiling, and highly polished slabs of stone and thick plank wood made up the counters and tabletops. Real wood chairs and barstools flanked the tables. Iron rivets and steel brackets connected wood beams. Where so many of the local businesses had turned to sleek and sterile contemporary designs, this shop had an arcane European feel to it. The old world style resonated with him. The woman standing beside him resonated as well. The attraction wasn’t entirely unwelcome, but he hadn’t felt anything toward any woman since the fiasco in Three Falls. Brittany Pierce effectively mangled his heart and his career in two swift and underhanded moves. When she was done with him, he could only focus on piecing his life back together. A relationship, or even a date, hadn’t crossed his mind since moving to Portland. Tori and Brittany didn’t appear to have anything in common, except for one nagging attribute. They both elicited sparks of anticipation in the pit of his belly. If the past taught him anything about dating and girlfriends, it was: don’t trust the sparks. Brittany taught him that sex appeal had nothing to do with an honest, committed relationship. Not that he was looking for anything close to a relationship with Tori, but being near her somehow renewed the fallout with his ex.
“You ran here?” he asked, making small talk as they waited for their drinks.
“I did.”
“Your knee is better?”
“A hundred percent better.” Tori wiggled her lower leg to prove it.
“How’s that possible? You were walking on it when I left your loft, but running on it so soon seems extreme.”
“That was days ago, and I am extreme.”
The barista called her name, and she stepped forward to grab their beverages.
“Your caramel latte,” Tori said, handing him a frothy mug.
“A sissy drink for a pissant of a man.”
Hackles raised, Leif turned to see who had spoken. Gerard didn’t even acknowledge Leif. His eyes were on Tori and his smile radiated resentment.
“Are you following me?” Tori jumped between him and Gerard before he had a chance to speak.
“Listen, babe. I’m just here for some coffee. Not sure why you brought this low-life with you, but that’s your business.”
“You lying sack of shriveled balls. You’re totally stalking me, and you need to stop it right now!” Tori’s voice was low but forceful.
Leif set his mug on the counter and stood by her side before she finished her demand. With a trained eye, he assessed the level of danger Gerard presented and prepared himself for the worst-case scenario. Gerard could be carrying a handgun, but Leif didn’t think so. But, the low-life had muscles to spare and the crazy gleam in his eyes couldn’t be ignored.
Gerard leaned down to Tori. “You look good. I thought we were going for a jog together this morning. When you didn’t call, I got worried.” He kept his hands to himself, but Leif didn’t like the proximity. Intensity hummed off Tori and raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
To her credit, Tori didn’t back down. “You’re a fucking lunatic. Please leave.”
“Time to give the lady some space.” Leif grabbed Gerard’s arm and pulled him back.
He yanked free and turned a hateful glare on Leif.
“Mind your own business.”
Gerard focused his golden brown eyes on Tori. The Brain Trust rose as a collective group and fixed a steady gaze on Gerard. The commotion and sound of five heavy wood chairs scraping across the stone floor garnered the attention of everyone inside The Magic Bean.
“Miss Tori asked you to leave her alone now,” the woman with a halo of silver and black curls said.
“Our friend does not wish to speak with you,” another man said.
“That means back off, sir,” another said with surprising force for such a small man.
“If I catch you following me again you’re in for a sorry surprise,” Tori warned.
Gerard dropped his gaze, then focused on Tori for one final second before stepping back, and raising his hands. “I didn’t come here to start a fight. I was just worried about you.”
Leif clenched his jaw and leaned toward this jackass. The classic manipulator always tried to turn things around, so they appeared innocent. He wanted to break Gerard’s face.
“Stay away from me,” Tori said again.
Gerard backed up another step, turned and made his way around a couple of tables before he left the coffee shop.
“Miss Tori, I’ll follow him out if that would put your mind at ease.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Kumamoto. But, thank you. All of you.”
The Old Farts Club, who Tori referred to as The Brain Trust found their seats. Leif picked up both his and Tori’s coffee mugs.
“Do you want to take these to go?” he asked.
Tori stood silent for a beat. She inhaled a shaky breath before answering. “Upstairs would be best.”
He considered lending her a steadying hand, but she turned and walked over to a wooden stairwell without shattering. Leif followed behind, watching over his shoulder to make certain Gerard didn’t reappear. The coffee shop returned to its previous chatty atmosphere while others read their book or newspaper. One woman wrote in a journal. It dawned on him that no one in The Magic Bean used any electronic devices. Even the cash register had been mechanical. He blinked to recheck his eyesight. Not a smartphone in sight. He followed Tori upstairs intending to ask her if there were more peculiar rules for The Magic Bean before unknowingly breaking them by checking his phone. As soon as he stepped onto the landing, he spotted two people working on their laptops and dismissed his observation. The upstairs lounge area looked inviting, but Tori was already across the room and entering the hallway toward a handful of closed doors. Tori chose an open one and entered.
“Are cell phones or computers allowed downstairs?” he asked.
“They don’t work,” she commented. Tori glanced out the window before gliding across the room and closing the door. The instant sensation of being shut inside a vault caused him to prickle with awareness.
“Why would a coffee shop want a signal jammer?”
“That’s not exactly the problem, Leif.”
The private room contained a table and chairs that matched the décor from downstairs. Milk chocolate leather club chairs and a side table flanked one wall. Daylight streamed through a large window, and the leafy branches of the tree were close enough to reach out and touch.
Vibrant paintings of flowers in vases dressed the walls.
Leif set the coffee mugs on the high top table. “So what is the reason? A coffee shop without Wi-Fi sounds like a tragedy waiting to happen.”
“Not necessarily. If you’re a person of magical descent, the chances of having a negative effect on electronics are about fifty-fifty. You may want to check your phone and see if it’s still working. I forgot to tell you to leave it behind before we came inside.”
Why was he always pausing to translate Tori’s English? Listening to her speak often reminded him of talking to a foreigner. “You can kill my phone by standing next to me?”
“Not me, but some of the wizards downstairs probably can.”
“That’s absurd.”
She shrugged. “Maybe so, but you can’t expect them to shield their body frequency from phones and computers twenty-four-seven.”
“There are some people on a computer right outside the door,” Leif said.
“The owners of The Magic Bean put shield spells in place for the tech crowd. Upstairs only, though. Our public hangouts used to have a no-tech policy, but that’s impossible these days. There were too many complaints about broken devices. The electronic issue only affects about half of Magic users, so most businesses had to adjust and create a safe zone for making calls and checking email.”
“Uh-huh,” Leif said, still translating her words into something he understood.
“If your phone survived passing through downstairs, you can make a call or text from up here. And this room is impenetrable. I thought you would appreciate the privacy considering the reason I asked you to come.”
He took a seat and lifted the mug to his lips. A flavor burst of roasted perfection mingled with caramelized sugar and performed a symphony inside his mouth. Taken aback, he stared into his cup. If magic potions were real, this had to be it. He tried the coffee again. The same experience hit him. This stuff is liquid crack.
“What does impenetrable mean here?”
Tori slid onto the seat across from him. She wrapped her slender hand around the mug but didn’t take a drink. “The room is completely private. No one can hear anything we’re discussing.”
A Witch's Fate: Witches of Lane County Page 7