Page 11 of Curses & Cold Brew (Maple Hollow #2)

RAMONA

T he only person needing a fucking ice-cold shower was me. I’d never been so bothered without the satisfaction of torture or a climax.

Lucifer and the Seven Hells, those flushed cheeks, those pouty lips, those bedroom eyes.

I thought I knew a thing or two about torture, but that little witch was giving me a master class.

Iris was going to set me on fire. Frustration and impatience clouded my brain as I willed my legs to put more distance between her and me. I couldn’t tell if I was more annoyed that she’d used our bargain as blackmail or that she’d done it poorly.

She thought she could trick me?

Me?

We would have to work on her manipulation skills if she was going to continue to be my little ginger shadow. I balled my hands into fists while I stormed through town, hoping I set the little witch on edge as much as she did me.

I made my way up the street, past the bakery.

The wolfman and his sister had a line out the door.

Typical for the time of day, but now that there were two full-time bakers on the premises, it seemed to be the new hot spot in town.

Content creators dressed in their stereotypical witchy garb held up their phones and cameras to record proof that they’d visited the spookily cute town of their dreams. Each of them angled their shots in an attempt to look like they hadn’t been waiting in the cold for over an hour for the new wolf’s specialties.

The quickest route was through the town square, so I crossed the street. Unfortunately, it was the peak time for tourists to frequent the coffee shop, bakery, and the other restaurants dotted about town.

“Ramona!” a shrill voice called from behind me. “Over here, yoo-hoo!”

I whipped my head around to find Lulu, the owner of the hair salon, running up the sidewalk while expertly evading the sightseers in her path.

Her loud fuchsia hair was teased up into two buns today, and she wore matching eyeshadow and lipstick.

Dressed in all dark green, she reminded me of a poisonous plant instead of a werewolf.

When she finally reached me, she doubled over and braced her hands on her thighs as she panted out the message that she’d deemed important enough to deliver in haste: “I got it. The hair gloss. The one I told you about. Last week.”

“Okay?”

“I just got it in from Italy.”

“I thought you were going to say the British are coming, for fuck’s sake.” I eyed her gripping the stitch in her side. “You could have just texted me. Are you trying out a new delivery service? Chasing down clients in the street?”

She straightened and giggled breathlessly. “I made a promise to let you know as soon as it came in. I know how particular you are about your products.”

“Right. Well, I’ll be in next week for my usual appointment.” I took a step away, but she moved in front of me. “Is there something else I can help you with, Lulu?”

“Well, do you remember a few months back? You said if I ever wanted to discuss my . . . future ”—she winked as if I didn’t know what she was trying to say — “that you’d be receptive?”

What a day this was turning out to be.

Normally, I was the hunter. Today, the targets were chasing me down.

“Yes, Lulu.” I resisted the urge to smile. I had been working on her for over a year and had almost given up. Now all I needed to do was reel her in. “You want to talk to me about that, beautiful?”

Her blush deepened. “I just?—”

A loud, grating sound tore Lulu’s attention away. Iris had appeared practically out of thin air, her arms crossed and a look of disgust on her face.

“Hey, Iris,” Lulu said in greeting then turned back to me. “We can talk later. When you’re free.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lulu,” Iris answered in my place. “Ramona is very busy at the moment and won’t be free anytime soon. But how about you, Jordyn, and me have a girls’ night? Nothing a night out at The Bloody Mary can’t fix, right?”

What in the actual fuck was going on? Was she marking her territory? Or was she just trying to see how far she could push a demon into a crisis?

“Really?” Lulu beamed at the meddlesome witch. “That would be wonderful, actually. You have no idea how lonely it can get at the salon.”

“Come by the apothecary when you get off today,” Iris said. “We’ll make a plan.”

Getting the clue that she’d been dismissed, Lulu smiled and bounced away . . . taking her as yet unclaimed soul with her.

“What was that about?” I snarled as soon as Lulu was out of earshot. “Are you trying to steal my catch?”

How the hell had Iris caught up to me so quickly? Were there magic portals in the alleys I didn’t know about?

“Were you really going to let her sell her soul to you?” Iris whispered, irate. “In broad daylight? In front of tourists ?”

“So, which part are you protesting, then?”

“What?”

“Are you mad that I was making a deal? That it was in broad daylight? Or are you mad that it was in front of tourists?”

“D. All of the above.”

“Seven Hells,” I muttered. “This is my literal job. ‘Always be closing.’ Did you think I only did deals in the dead of night, under a full moon?”

“Lulu is one of the sweetest people in town. And whatever the nymph needs, she can get on her own.”

I wanted to clarify that Lulu was mostly werewolf and only partially nymph, but there was a more pressing matter at hand. “You interfered with my job, little witch. You better have a really good reason because I don’t take kindly to people getting in the way of a fresh soul.”

Her cheeks lit with a pink hue that spread to her neck. “We have a bigger job to do,” Iris said, and I very much noted her liberal use of the word “we.” “If you bartered for her soul, who’s to say it wouldn’t have been stolen out from under you like the others?”

My shoulders fell.

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Every soul waiting for collection would be in danger of being snatched away from me if I— we —didn’t find out who was behind the thefts.

“Alright, then. Let’s go, but you have to stay behind me. And don’t say a single word. The last thing I need is you being mouthy and the demonic council deciding to take out their frustrations with you on me.”

She made a gesture as if sealing her lips.

“Insufferable.”

“You love it,” she crooned, and my insides clenched.

“Yeah, I love little witches chasing my coattails and wanting to play detective. Delightful.” I walked briskly in the direction of the council building. “Cost me another deal and you’ll owe me more than just a date.”