The Cupid Conundrum

by Lucy True

  On Friday morning, she drove into town early and parked behind the town hall. It gave her a good chance to see that even at this early hour, people were entangled in rather heated embraces all around downtown.

  She took her time strolling along the sidewalk, heading for the diner first to get a cup of coffee. The coffeemaker at home was an ancient and unreliable thing that Iris refused to replace. Even when Burgundy offered to buy one out of her own money, her aunt shook her head and muttered something about not being able to throw out anything because of the exposure to magick. Or, as Burgundy thought of it, the appliances had seen some shit.

  Charlotte waved when Burgundy walked in, offering her usual smile, along with a toss of her long, dark hair. It was contained in a sleek ponytail that Burgundy wanted to reach out and touch.

  When Charlotte asked “Breakfast?” Burgundy shoved the odd thought about her friend’s beautiful hair aside.

  “Just having coffee today,” Burgundy declined. “I had a bowl of cereal at home.”

  “Okay, then. How about you treat yourself and try my cappuccino?”

  Burgundy drew her brows together. “You have cappuccino? This is news to me. As a regular consumer of all things coffee, how come I didn’t know first?”

  “Well, you’ve also been preoccupied with other things. Anyway, the maker arrived yesterday and I’ve been practicing on it all morning. Ta da!” Charlotte walked over to a new machine and waved her hands around it. She looked a lot like one of the Price is Right models, with her hands and arms undulating gracefully to show off the cappuccino maker’s sleek lines.

  “Okay,” Burgundy said with a laugh. “I get it. I get it. Sure, I’ll try some.”

  Her best friend moved efficiently behind the counter, already seeming comfortable with the shiny, new contraption. In mere moments, she served Burgundy a cup of cappuccino topped with cinnamon and whipped cream. “And here’s your coffee for later,” she said, sliding a tall take-out cup in front of her. “Already added the cream and sugar.”

  “You’re the best.” Burgundy sipped at the cappuccino and sighed as liquid warmth filled her. It spread throughout her body, leaving her feeling languorous. “Charlotte, no offense, but this cappuccino isn’t waking me up. It’s making me want to curl up under a blanket with a book and more of this stuff.”

  “I know it doesn’t give that jolt you enjoy from your coffee, but isn’t it a nice change of pace?” The way Charlotte smiled at her, she seemed determined that Burgundy like the drink. As a creature of habit and lover of coffee, it was difficult to change her ways. Mornings weren’t the time for her to savor a frothy, delicious drink. She needed a fast, hard hit of caffeine.

  Still, she curled her hands around the cup and returned her friend’s smile. “I think it’s lovely. Maybe you could add another shot of espresso next time. I mean, as a special treat for me.”

  Charlotte tapped her finger against her mouth, as if considering the request. For a second, Burgundy thought she’d insulted her, but then Charlotte said, “I could probably offer that to folks by request. Good idea!”

  Letting out a breath, Burgundy bowed her head and looked down at her cup. It was already half gone, so she finished it while she glanced around the diner. Once again, there were unexpected couples sitting together at the tables. Even some of the old-timers who normally shared that one table near the kitchen were sitting with others. It was a stranger sight than the first time and she thought about what Arthur had said.

  Miss Mason was in there, along with Old Man Cragborn, and Burgundy remembered Charlotte mentioning them. The high school health teacher couldn’t be more than thirty-five, yet there she was, snuggling up to a four hundred-year-old man. The way she nuzzled his white bearded face was practically indecent and Burgundy turned to look at Charlotte.

  “Yeah, I know,” her friend said, catching her gaze. “But it’s kind of cute in a way, too.”

  “Cute? Charlotte, I saw Jake Calhoun running to get away from Delia Hargrove. Are you going to tell me that’s cute?”

  “Maybe a little.” Charlotte shrugged and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

  No, what’s cute is you, Burgundy thought. Nice, normal, you. But she pressed her hand against the counter and added, “How about the fact that Delia almost got hit by a car trying to get her hands on him?”

  “Oh...”

  “Yeah. ‘Oh’.” Burgundy shook her head. “Something is totally messed up here. I mean, it’s so wrong that I can’t even find the worlds to do justice to the amount of wrongness.”

  The one thing she did know was whatever was going on, this was out of her league. Yet as a witch, she owed it to the town to try to figure out what was happening to them. Her aunt had yet to answer her emails, imploring her to call or, better still, hop the next airplane home.

  Burgundy let her eyelids flutter shut and silently cast a spell that would allow her to detect if there was any magick at work there in the diner. It was the one thing she could do and what made it all the more satisfying was the fact that it was something even her aunt wasn’t capable of. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a wrinkle of annoyance visible between Charlotte’s dark brows.

  “What?”

  Charlotte gestured at the empty coffee cup. “First of all, you didn’t savor that like you’re supposed to. Second, you’re casting a spell in my diner.”

  “The spell is necessary. This weird love epidemic might have been funny and awkward before, but now people are scared. They’re putting themselves in danger because of it.” Burgundy paused, waiting for Charlotte to respond. When her friend said nothing, she plunged on. “There are people acting like they’re in love with people they shouldn’t want to love. We both know that’s a problem and we both know only one person can fix it.”

  Her friend finally nodded and, together, they both said, “Iris.”

  “Right,” Burgundy said. “So Iris hasn’t answered my emails and the mayor is out of town until Monday, which means it’s up to me to sort out what’s going on. Now, I don’t like interfering any more than you like me to, especially since I’m still in training. Heck, one spell from me could blow up the whole town, for all I know. But I owe it to the people to try to help. These are our friends and neighbors. If they’re being compelled to do something, we need to find a way to stop it.”

  “But... why love? And why Rock Grove?”

  “You got me. But I do know this.” With a grimace, Burgundy announced, “There’s nothing natural about what’s going on. All I’m detecting is magick, big time.”

  Charlotte leaned against the counter and looked around the diner, her long, dark ponytail following her movements. As soon as her friend was looking away, Burgundy found her gaze drawn to Charlotte’s neck. It was as if a shining curtain had been drawn aside to reveal something that was graceful and curved just so, in a way that made her want to...

  “Yeah,” Charlotte agreed, turning to her, hair falling back into place over one shoulder. “I can kind of see what you mean. I think there’s a couple about to schtoink on the bench outside.”

  “Ew.”

  “And I sense that something is off, not as strongly as you do, though.” Charlotte’s chest rose and fell as she drew in a deep breath. “Yes, the spiritual balance of Rock Grove is very much tilted in the wrong direction.”

  “So if you can sense it as a medicine woman, can you do anything about it?” Burgundy asked, hopeful. Maybe they wouldn’t need Iris after all. But when Charlotte answered her with shake of her head, Burgundy’s hopes were dashed.

  “I can’t alleviate the effects of something on this wide a scale, Burg. I’m sorry. Maybe if I’d paid more attention or noticed when you told me to, I could have done something.” Apology tinged her words, but Burgundy smiled ruefully.

  “It’s okay. I guess now we better keep our eyes open and make sure we don’t get infected with whatever this is. Otherwise, we’ll never fix it.”

  Burgundy moved off the stool and place
d a five dollar bill on the counter for the coffee and cappuccino. The take-out cup was still nice and hot in her hand. The sensation made for a comforting contrast against the cold November air as she walked down Main Street, then up the smaller side street that led to the library.

  The old brick building waited for her, dark and empty. Every time Burgundy unlocked the front door and walked in first thing in the morning before turning on the lights, an eerie chill shook her. It happened now, as soon as the front door shut behind her. Before she’d even reached for the lights, she heard a groan.

  Through the glass of the interior doors, she saw movement – a shadow hunched over by the circulation desk. Swallowing her fear, Burgundy reached for the light switch and flipped it. Light flooded the entire first floor and she bit back a gasp.

  “Mr. Knight,” she said, finally moving forward. “Are you okay?”

  The handsome man looked like he was sweating and his skin was pale. Granted, Burgundy wasn’t sure what was pale for Mr. Knight, since he rarely left the basement. But his flesh had an unhealthy-looking, ashen tone to it.

  “Lynn. She won’t answer my calls, won’t come to see me. I’ll die without her, Burgundy. I know I will.” His voice came out in a moan and then he collapsed into the chair Lynn usually occupied. “Why won’t she see me?”

  His words brought back the fear, sending a chill through Burgundy’s body. She took a sip of her coffee, but even that didn’t warm her. Mr. Knight usually didn’t behave so informally with her, let alone share personal thoughts or feelings. Disconcerted didn’t even begin to cover how she felt. Burgundy reached out to check his forehead.

  “I’m not sick,” he mumbled, knocking her hand away and pouting like a petulant child. “I want Lynn.”

  “Okay, well, she’ll be here in thirty minutes. Can you wait to see her?”

  He nodded wordlessly and then leaned against the desk. It was the posture of a heartbroken man and Burgundy took a step back. She stowed her coat and purse away, but fished her cell phone out of it first.

  “I’m going to finish opening up,” she told her boss. “Why don’t you go back down to your office and I’ll send Lynn to you?”

  “No. I need to see her as soon as she comes in.”

  “Ohhh... kaaayyy...” Burgundy turned and hurried down the steps to the children’s room. As soon as she’d turned on the lights, she sent a text to Lynn. The assistant might not have been her favorite person to deal with, but Mr. Knight looked ready to fall over if he didn’t see her.

  Her phone buzzed a few seconds later with a response and Burgundy glared at it. With a low growl, she dialed Lynn’s number and waited to hear the older woman say, “Hello?”

  “Look, I know you’re probably pissed off about our little talk the other day, but you still need to be here. You can’t call out today.”

  There was silence and Burgundy was afraid Lynn had hung up on her. But then she heard a deep breath. “It’s not you. Well, mostly not you. It’s him.”

  “Well, he looks like he’s on the verge of death, so I need you to get in here and see what you can do to fix him.” It was the second awkward conversation she’d had with Lynn that week and Burgundy rolled her eyes. She was definitely batting zero as a supervisor.

  An even longer silence than the first stretched between her and Lynn. Then, finally, Lynn said, “I’ll be there, but someone needs to stay with me.”

  “Lynn, I promise, I’ll stay with you. I won’t let anything happen to you, but if you don’t come in, I’m afraid something even worse will happen to Mr. Knight.” Burgundy thought about the crush Lynn supposedly had on him and added, “Besides, I thought you liked him.”

  “I do like him when he’s not being all grabby hands. You know how cats are, Burgundy. We need our space.” Lynn’s huff of annoyance was audible, but at least Burgundy heard what sounded like car keys jangling in the background. “I’ll be there in about five minutes, but do not leave me alone with him.”

  “You have a witch’s promise that I won’t. Now hurry, please. He needs you here.”

  As soon as Burgundy hung up, she opened the search engine on her phone and typed in a few words. She scrolled through the hits until one in particular caught her eye. She tapped the link and waited for the page to load while she powered on the downstairs computers.

  Every word she read on the website was more ominous than the last, until her steps faltered and then stopped completely. Two words fell from her lips before she ran the rest of the way upstairs.

  “Oh shit.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “What... what does that mean, though?” Lynn peered at the phone Burgundy held beneath her face and Burgundy rolled her eyes. For a cat shifter, Lynn could be annoyingly dense at times.

  “A love wound that does not heal,” Burgundy quoted, “which means Mr. Knight is going to pine for you and maybe die if he can’t have you. Look at him. You can see with your own eyes that he doesn’t look good.”

  They both turned to look into Mr. Knight’s office, where he sat at his desk, staring back at them, his dark, red-rimmed eyes glittering. Even though Lynn’s proximity seemed to have filled him with some energy again, that same broken-hearted demeanor lingered. Burgundy had spent days trying to formulate an answer to the question of what was going on in town. Now, her heart leapt as she watched things take a turn for the worse. Mr. Knight, of all people!

  Burgundy almost thought Lynn might decide it wasn’t worth it to stick around, that she would decide Mr. Knight’s death would serve her better than his life. But then Lynn let out a sigh and her features went feline briefly.

  “I do like him,” she finally said. “Maybe I can set some ground rules with him.”

  “Whatever you can do. If he starts getting handsy or inappropriate with you, I’m right upstairs.” Burgundy tried to sound reassuring, despite the way she felt about working with Lynn. After all, it wasn’t fair to leave her assistant to deal with things on her own.

  Lynn’s chest rose with her breath and she squared her shoulders. “I can handle it. Go on. Do your job. I’ll see what I can do to help him.”

  With that figured out, Burgundy slipped quietly away while Lynn entered Mr. Knight’s office. There wasn’t much else she could do, especially since her spell to detect magick only told her it was there. And, oh boy, was it. The strange, sparkling energy of whatever was causing the lovesickness lay thickly all over Mr. Knight, from head to toe.

  Burgundy trudged back up the stairs and joined Marian at the circulation desk. “How are things up here?” she asked.

  “Fine. Quiet for a Friday. Some rando came in wearing a trench coat, though. Never saw him before. Kind of thought he might flash me or something.”

  “A rando in a trench?” Burgundy straightened and looked around the library. They had some pretty eccentric people in town, ranging from socially awkward to downright scary, but none of them skulked around in a trench coat.

  “He went downstairs. But, yeah, it was pretty weird. Had a hat, too. Like, the old-fashioned kind gangsters wore in the 1920s. Halloween was over three weeks ago, so I don’t know what his deal was, but–”

  Burgundy didn’t give Marian a chance to finish. She pushed away from the desk and ran downstairs to find Sylvia at the desk in the children’s room. “Did you see a man in a trench coat?” she asked, her gaze roving every single aisle of bookshelves.

  “A trench coat? No, but I just came back from using the restroom. Why do you ask?”

  The doors had a soft chime that alerted them to visitors, so Burgundy pointed at the outside door. “Did you hear that open or close in the past few minutes?”

  “No, but you can’t really hear it in the bathroom. I’m sorry. Was it someone you were supposed to–”

  Once again, Burgundy didn’t wait for Sylvia to finish her sentence. Instead, she walked past her into the auditorium, then circled up onto the stage and through the doorway behind it. She went through the small kitchen and then stopped, staring at wha
t she saw.

  There was the man in the trench coat. He was facing Mr. Knight’s office, elbow high and back past his head. The fingers of that hand were curled around a string that attached to a gilded bow. Nocked on the bow was a shining arrow with a heart-shaped arrowhead.

  She thought of her internet search only a short while ago, of how looking for love magic had led her to people with the power to make people fall in love. Of how that led her to the infamous mythological figure who existed only to incite uncontrollable desire with his bow and golden arrows.

  With a shout, Burgundy charged forward and knocked into the man. She was fairly short at only five foot six, and kind of curvy, so the impact didn’t do much. But it was enough to jostle him into sending the shot wide.

  The man turned and glared at her, hissed, “Stupid girl,” and then shoved past her to run up the creaky central staircase.

  “Girl?” Torn with indecision, Burgundy looked at where the arrow was wedged into a crack in the plaster wall and then back at the stairs. One was a clue, the other was the actual perpetrator. “No contest,” she muttered, and gave chase.

  Without her usual care in foot placement, the stairs protested alarmingly. She knew anyone in the library would hear her dashing up those steps and think the worst. But, in truth, the worst was happening and Burgundy knew if she didn’t try to stop it, Mr. Knight wouldn’t be the only lovesick person in town.

  At the top of the stairs, she looked to the left and the right, then at Marian. “Where did he go?” she asked.

  “Back down the main stairs. Ran past like a bat out of, well, you know.”

  Burgundy turned and there he was, behind her and taking aim again. “The nerve!” She hurried down, retracing her steps, but the arrow flew before her foot hit the last step. “Hey! You!” she shouted, reaching out to grasp the trench coat. She managed to catch on to the sleeve and the man turned, but didn’t try to shake her off.

  “You ruined my shot again,” he accused. The way his hat shadowed his features made it difficult to see his expression, but it was obvious from his voice he was frustrated. Not that Burgundy cared.