Page 17 of Curses & Cold Brew (Maple Hollow #2)

RAMONA

I wandered into Black Cat Knit Shop a little after noon, a tune on my lips.

I was still feeling at ease after the collection of the succubus’s soul a few nights prior.

I’d been holed up in my house, attempting to detox my senses of a certain witch.

I told myself that it had worked, but that was before I’d stepped onto the streets of Maple Hollow again.

Now, I kept hallucinating a flash of red hair in my periphery .

. . which, of course, I kept telling myself didn’t mean anything.

With my worries finally few, I strolled through the rows of yarn and toward the gathering at the back of the shop.

“Ramona!” Agnes called from the knitting circle of vampires. “I was wondering when we’d see you back at knitting club.”

It felt silly, but having the distraction of old acquaintances and local gossip felt like a much-needed comfort after everything that had happened.

Especially when I was dangerously deficient in caffeine since I was avoiding the café.

And Midnight Market, the bakery, and the bookshop.

All places I knew she frequented . . . or so I presumed.

I waved to Agnes and pulled my needles and yarn out of the only tote bag I owned.

It was bloodred with my sigil emblazoned in gold on the front—my first embroidery project.

No one could mistake it for theirs, so I wouldn’t have to threaten anyone if my very rare and hard-to-source vicuna wool went missing.

It was softer than cashmere and rarer than diamonds.

“You’re just in time. Loraine was about to tell us about the run-in she had with an ogre a few weeks ago.” Agnes chortled. “And we’ve got a newcomer to the group this week too.”

The vampire pointed the blunt ends of her onyx needles across the circle right as Edith shifted back in her seat, revealing none other than Iris, who sat gnashing her knitting needles together, unaware of how badly she was mangling whatever mustard monstrosity she was attempting to make.

“Lucifer, fucking save me,” I muttered.

“I didn’t know you were a part of the knitting club,” she said when I sat in the only available chair.

Which happened to be next to hers.

I curled my lip back. “I have hobbies,” I muttered back, taking out my current project, which at present was only a navy-blue sleeve.

“Like rescuing stray cats and volunteering with the elderly?” Iris whispered back. “You make fun of me for my sweater vests while you’re secretly part of a vampire knitting circle? Hello, pot. I’m kettle.”

“How did you know I was going to be here?” I murmured from the corner of my mouth. “Are you stalking me?”

The vampires chattered amongst themselves about their favorite local feeding grounds—apparently, the dumpster behind the police station was the place to be these days.

On the menu had been a blend of rowdy locals who’d crossed one of them at the market and tourists who hadn’t respected the sanctity of Bones and Tomes or Ghoulish Antiques.

All young men, unsurprisingly—who’d been trying to peacock for townies who would rather eat them than sleep with them.

“I have better things to do with my time than try and follow your grumpy self around town,” Iris replied. “This is just a pleasant surprise.”

“Grumpy?” My frown deepened as I started working on my project.

I’d finally started feeling like I had this situation under control, like I wasn’t seeing Iris’s face every time I closed my eyes.

But of course, she’d had to show up here and ignite my nerves like a live wire in a lightning storm.

Whatever delusions I had about my nonexistent feelings for her were ruined by her presence.

I kept my expression a steely neutral. “You developed a sudden penchant for knitting?”

Her shoulder lifted and fell. “I have a lead.”

She was pleased with herself. I could hear it in her tone.

I cursed as I dropped a stitch. “I thought I told you to?—”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve known I wouldn’t listen,” she snapped back, looking up at me with those big green eyes, her lips pinched like the fucking brat she was.

I thought of all the ways I’d enjoy punishing her for her mouthy retorts. When I finally called in her debt, neither heaven nor hell was going to stop me from making her howl my name louder than a hell beast.

Fuck, Ramona. Get your head straight.

I narrowed my eyes. “You suspect vampires?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What is it we’re being accused of now?” Avery, Agnes’s daughter, shot daggers at us from her sharply winged eyes. “Yet another thing you demons are placing on the vampires?”

“Not at knitting club, kids,” Agnes chided.

Only the click-clack of knitting needles filled the room for a tense moment.

Demons and vampires had been at odds for centuries.

Since around the fall of Rome, to be more specific.

Once the Catholic church had taken hold of Europe and had begun spreading Catholicism to every corner of the world, vampires and demons had become targets.

At times, it was more convenient to let vampires take the fall for certain demonic escapades.

Only tentative truces kept us from turning on each other.

“No demon is crossing the treaty,” I assured Avery, but gestured toward Iris. “It’s the witch who has brought a question to the table. Nothing more than a question.”

Avery eyed Iris, and the hunger in her gloomy grey eyes stoked the possessive fire I had been trying to smother.

“Don’t be shy.” Agnes sounded cheerier than I expected. “There are no secrets at knitting club.”

I should have let Iris answer, but Avery looked murderous. “Agnes,” I said, appealing to the good sense of my friend, “is there any chance there’s a new vampire in town? One who may not understand the dynamics of our delicate ecosystem?”

“Not that I know of,” Agnes replied, her thin, snowy brow lifting. “And I know everything.”

“Any of your ilk stepping out of line lately?” Iris piped up next to me. “Anyone going through a rebellious phase?”

Agnes pursed her lips. “When are we not rebellious?” She let out a watery laugh. “But no, nothing against town ordinances or ancient treaties.”

“That’s both a relief and disheartening,” I admitted. “I’ve been the target of some . . . unsavory evil.”

Every eye in the circle was on me. It was rare for a demon to admit they were in trouble, and even rarer that they asked for help.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ramona.” Agnes refocused on the shawl she was knitting. “I hope this doesn’t dampen your passion for good gossip and fashion patterns.”

“Was it in town?” Avery asked. “Or a town nearby?”

“Why would that matter?” Agnes asked.

Avery cringed. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. She knows she can’t come back to Maple Hollow. The vampires all forbade her from returning.”

My gut clenched.

I silently prayed to Satan, Beelzebub, Mammon, and every other king of hell that it wasn’t who I thought it was. “Who?”

“Esme,” Avery answered.

At those two syllables, I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

“A vampire named Esme? Real original.” Iris snorted. “I’ve never heard of a vampire by that name in Maple Hollow before.”

But I could barely hear her over my roaring pulse. I snapped my knitting needle in two, nerves mounting with each passing second. Suddenly, it all made sense. “I thought she started a new coven out west?”

“As far as we all knew, she did,” Avery replied. “But I bet all that rain in Washington gets tiring, even for the damned. You know how that goes, don’t you, demon?”

“Let me get this straight. There’s a vampire named Esme who moved to the Pacific Northwest and started a coven?” Iris cackled. “Goddess, I can’t wait to tell Jordyn about this.”

“I’m not sure why the little witch is so amused,” Margret squeaked from across the circle. “This is a serious matter, Avery, you should have told us.”

“She was always nice to me.” Avery’s resolve started to wane now that everyone was looking at her for answers. “I’ve only seen her once, and it was for less than five minutes.”

Iris’s head swiveled from one member of the group to another, her smile long gone by the time she landed on my harried expression. “Is she really that bad?”

“If ever there was a personification of an unpredictable rogue, it would be Esme,” Agnes said with a shake of her head.

“She wasn’t made for discreet. She was a part of our coterie for about half a century before she became bored.

Then she became a liability.” She tipped her head at me and then looked back at Iris.

“The two of them used to be thick as thieves once upon a time.”

“Oh really?” Iris asked.

“It was mutual boredom, nothing more,” I corrected.

“She and I had a friendly rivalry going for a few centuries. Demon versus vampire, trying to see who could lure a soul into darkness first.” I held Iris’s gaze, imploring her to hear me.

“We did a lot of terrible things together. She’s incredibly dangerous. ”

If I couldn’t convince myself to stay away from Iris, then perhaps I’d need to convince her to stay away from me. Things never ended well for me in friendship or romance. I needed to end whatever was going on between us before it actually began. Unfortunately, Iris didn’t seem the least bit cowed.

“You two were the talk of the town back then,” Agnes said with an approving nod.

“Alas, Esme wasn’t particularly careful with her feeding habits.

She didn’t care that we had a steady supply of human blood without having to cover up mysterious disappearances.

We had all agreed to only take what we needed to survive, relieve the humans of those specific memories, and allow them to live another day.

” Agnes shook her head. “But when the surrounding larger cities started to catch wind of more and more humans turning up dead from ‘animal attacks,’ there was hell to pay. A slayer came, and our house was raided. It was a bloodbath, and not the kind we like to indulge in.”

“When was this?” Iris’s fingers tightened on her knitting needles.

“Back in the nineties,” Agnes answered. “Some teen on a Buffy kick. We lost some of our oldest vampires that day. Those of us who did survive had to act. So with the witches’ help, we banished Esme from Maple Hollow, and she moved on without a formal goodbye.

Rumors and obituaries indicated a trail out toward Portland and the forests of the Pacific Northwest.”

“But you don’t know that this is necessarily her,” Avery cut in, and I scrutinized the young vampire. “How could she even do anything to you, Ramona? You’re too powerful.”

“Oh, it’s her,” I said, rising to stand. Everything was suddenly clicking into place. “My most coveted possessions start to go missing with advanced magic around the same time you claim to have seen her? I don’t believe in coincidences, especially ones so obvious.”

“Does this Esme have wavy brown hair and blue eyes?” Iris asked.

I whirled toward her. “How do you know that?”

Iris winced. “I summoned one of your missing souls last night.”

“You what?” I growled.

Her cheeks reddened. “I told you I had a lead. Maude said someone with long teeth visited her right before she died.”

“Maybe it is handy to have a witch in the knitting circle,” Agnes said with a mischievous lilt. “You sure are lucky she’s on your side, Ramona.”

“I don’t have time for this,” I snarled, stuffing my knitting project back into my bag. “I need to go find her.”

Iris leaped to her feet. “I can?—”

“You are not coming with me, witchling,” I seethed. “You’ve put yourself in enough danger as it is. Go warn your coven. Then go home and stay there .”

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. The blind rage filling my vision was only meant to be seen by the person who truly deserved it.

Esme.

After all this time, I couldn’t believe she’d come back.