Page 8 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

My plans for an evening recon were shot to hell when my new neighbors cornered me into having dinner with them.

Old people can be sneaky. One minute I’m quietly strolling along minding my own business about to walk into town—because everything in this town is within walking distance—and the next, the elderly couple in the tricked-out RV have diverted me into sitting at their picnic table and eating, admittedly, the best burger I’ve had in years.

Doreen and Bernard are now my bestest buddies.

I’m going to have to keep an eye out for them because they’ll probably be keeping one on me.

The last thing I need is nosey neighbors while I’m trying to snoop around and hunt werewolves.

I wonder if they could be werewolves. Hmmm.

Mental note, do research on my new friends.

I check out my window to make sure the coast is clear before exiting my trailer.

I don’t see anyone outside. They must be inside their RV or out somewhere.

I take the opportunity and head for the road towards town.

I manage to make it out of the park and camping area with no interference.

The street to town is paved but empty. The trees of the forest line the street and I venture a few feet beyond the tree line.

Mainly to keep out of sight but also to get a feel for the woods.

This will be where I’ll find my werewolf.

I keep an eye out for tracks, trails, disturbances.

The brush here has been matted down no doubt from foot traffic going to and from the lake.

It’s not going to be any help to me, other than knowing what was here before my search.

This way I’ll know what’s out of the ordinary.

The small quaint town appears in the distance.

Colorful and pristine. I imagine what it might look like rotted and covered in creeping vines abandoned by its residents.

The image in my head is the one I was expecting to find when I arrived, not this…

movie set. It’s almost creepy how perfect everything is.

I never trust anything that appears perfect.

I pull the lapels of my black leather jacket closer together and veer in the direction of town, passing the motel and turning left onto the main road.

Straight ahead of me is Dottie’s. There are a few customers inside, but I bypass the restaurant, saving it for later when it’s busier.

I want there to be more people to question, not fewer so I stand out easier.

Instead, I go looking for the other food establishment in town Luca mentioned, the Morning Star Cafe.

He said it was only open for breakfast and lunch, seems like a good place to start.

As I turn the corner, I get a whiff of heavens perfume and stop dead in my tracks.

Coffee, delicious bean juice calls to me on the wind.

My nose tips to the sky and I suck in a deep breath.

I’m sure the cafe has coffee but this coffee smells…

better. Top tier beans of the highest quality.

Grabbing a quick cup before heading to the cafe wouldn’t hurt.

Just one more place to cross off my list, right? Two birds, one stone, all that jazz.

Turning on my heel I redirect to the source of the coffee scent, the name on the door reads The Ugly Mug.

Interesting name for a coffee shop. I push through the bright yellow door and enter the shop and I instantly understand the name.

On the wall hang some of the most atrocious mugs I’ve ever seen.

A frog, a mushroom, a rainbow poop emoji, pink dinosaur and more.

“Wow. Those are definitely some ugly mugs,” I mutter to myself.

I notice the area above the mugs has a poem painted on the wall, instructions of sort.

Pick a mug and a bean, then take a seat and let it steam.

Okay, I guess that means I have to use one of these mugs.

I’d prefer a to-go cup and bypass the wall.

Behind the counter stands a tall slender guy with long almost white, blonde hair. He quirks a smile at me as I approach.

“Good morning, how can I help you today?” he asks in a soft and smooth voice.

He’s an attractive man, with eyes a pale shade of blue I swear could be lavender. Tall and physically fit with a strong jaw and amazing hair. That’s two attractive men I’ve met in this town already. Two out of two is a high statistic for small town Montana. Maybe it’s something in the water?

“Morning…” I lean in to read the name on his apron. “Tobias. I need a coffee to go, please.”

“Of course. May I make a suggestion?”

I cock my head up at the tall man, curious.

Most baristas couldn’t give two shits about what a customer orders.

They tap it into the register take my money and hand over the bean juice, immediately moving on to the next customer in line without a second thought.

But if this barista has some secret menu with prime coffee grounds, I’m not going to turn my nose up at it.

“Sure, whatcha got?”

“How about a surprise?”

“A surprise?” I raise an eyebrow at him and lean on the counter. I am definitely intrigued.

“Yes, you let me choose the coffee and if you don’t love it, I’ll give you a full refund.”

I love all kinds of coffee—other than instant—so I doubt I’ll be asking for a refund.

“Sure. Why not?”

Tobias tilts his head, his eyes roaming all around my body.

Not lingering on my body but the outline of it.

I have no idea what he’s doing but after a moment of contemplation he enters something into his register.

I pay the total, which is way less than any Starbucks, and circle to the pick-up counter.

Everything in the shop is colorful and patterned and there’s a fun lightness to the atmosphere.

Almost every table in the corner shop is full of people enjoying coffees in those strange mugs.

Tobias himself makes my coffee, brewing, pouring and mixing. I try to see everything he’s doing but the fancy coffee machines get in the way. Lurking closer I decide to take advantage of Tobias and the knowledge all baristas learn of small-town residents.

“So, Tobias, live here long?”

“A few years. I moved here with my husband so he could be closer to his family.” He says continuing to fiddle with the machine and making my magical coffee.

“So, he’s got family in town? They live here long?”

Tobias’s eyes glance my way briefly before turning back to his task. “I think they’ve been here awhile. He and his sister run the local flower nursery.”

“How old is…” I quickly recall the sign I saw when entering the town and hopefully my brief pause is brief enough not to garner suspicion. “Snowberry?”

“I think it was established in the early nineteen hundreds.”

Interesting. How has a town remained invisible to the outside world for over a hundred years?

“And do you like living here? Away from big cities and noise?”

“Oh yeah, we love it here.” He smiles and I can see the admiration in his expression. “Snowberry has everything we need.”

“Everything’s so clean and immaculate. I can see the appeal.”

“This your first time in town? I don’t recall seeing you before.”

“Yup.” I don’t embellish, it’s always best to give as little information as possible. Less likely to slip up that way.

“Are you here for the blood moon then?”

Blood moon. Does he mean the literal blood moon, a full lunar eclipse that happens every four to five years, or is it code for something else?

I figure if he’s talking about it so casually it’s probably most likely the eclipse.

Which also has to do with the full moon and by extension werewolves. Ha! Maybe I am in the right place.

“Yeah, figured I’d check it out.”

Tobias eyes me again as he tops my coffee with some sort of foam, it smells freaking divine.

I have a feeling drinking this coffee is going to be a core memory moment that I highly anticipate.

His expression goes from inquisitive to amused and he smirks at me before handing me the paper to-go cup, no lid, so I can see his decorative flourish in the foam. It looks like…a crescent moon. Pretty.

“Here you go. I think you’ll like this.”

“I think I will too.”

I gingerly sip the liquid and bask in the first hot taste of the best cup of coffee I’ve ever drank. There’s espresso of course with a hint of sweetness, creamy milk, and something fruity all topped with the whipped foam. I don’t know what he put in this but it’s perfection.

“Oh. My. God. This is delicious. Just what I needed.”

“I thought it might be. Come back any time and I’ll make you plenty more where that came from.”

“You have a gift sir. I will most definitely be back,” I promise. I would never leave this town if I could have coffee this good every day for the rest of my life.

I tip my cup in his direction and he chuckles, turning back to greet the next customer now waiting at the register. I don’t spot any of the physical characteristics thought to belong to a werewolf. So, I highly doubt he’s what I’m looking for, which means my future coffee orders are safe.

The heavenly aroma of the The Ugly Mug is left behind as I make my way down the street, heading for the new delicious aroma of syrup and pancakes at The Morning Star Cafe.

So far, my morning has been rather enlightening.

I’ve discovered the blood moon is an important event in this town, and what kind of beings would place importance on a lunar eclipse?

Werewolves. Tobias might not be a werewolf, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any in this town.

But why would a non-werewolf be so casual about a town celebrating the blood moon?

It’s not a commonly celebrated event. Sure, people might go out at night to take a gander, but a town wide event?

Highly unlikely. This isn’t a comet that comes around every three hundred years, it’s a freaking eclipse.

Nothing special, they happen all the time.

Which means they celebrate it for another reason. Perhaps one involving shifting into a killer beast and eating wildlife. Looks like I have two weeks to find out exactly what is going on here.