Page 9 of Curses & Cold Brew (Maple Hollow #2)

RAMONA

I sat at the small table at the back of Witch’s Brew Café, staring grumpily down at my lemon blueberry scone. When I glanced up, I found the blonde café owner, Willow, and her mullet-clad sister, Harlow, watching me from the espresso machine.

“What?” I barked, making them jolt in unison.

“Nothing!” Willow squeaked. “You enjoying the scone?” She nodded at my untouched plate.

I picked up my fork and knife like I was going to impale someone with them. “Yes.”

“Great!” she said through a smile that some might have called a grimace.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sugar-free cold brew, no cream,” I snapped.

“Okay! You got it!” The human café owner knew my usual order, but she still scrawled it onto her largest plastic cup and passed it to her nepotized barista.

“Dude, chill,” Harlow muttered to her sister.

The café was always busy this time of day. The creatures of the town filtered through the tourists and capitalized on the influx of revenue. One of the mayor’s employees stood outside the café’s bay windows, passing out flyers for Midnight Market, which every tourist took with a smile.

“Here you go.” Harlow placed the frosty beverage in front of me, then immediately turned on her heel. She hadn’t been part of the community for long, but she knew better than to linger, which meant I already liked her more than ninety percent of the locals.

At that thought, Agnes slid onto the seat beside me. Speak of the devil. “You’re even surlier than usual,” she said by way of greeting.

I lifted two fingers to my temple as I took a sip from my cup. “Agnes.”

“What are you doing haunting this place so early in the morning?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied. “Didn’t that bleach-blonde human almost kill you last year?”

Agnes let out a shrill laugh. “Nearly. But I’ve moved on.” She tipped her head toward Harlow. “Her girlfriend and that redheaded witch saved me, so all is forgiven. Not to mention, they took care of Katie. Though, the new fishmonger isn’t as chatty.”

“Iris.”

“Is that the new fishmonger’s name?”

“No,” I gritted out. “The redheaded witch. Her name is Iris.”

“I know,” Agnes said, mischievous smile broadening. “But now I know that you know her name, which is far more intriguing.”

“Vampires,” I muttered, taking another long swig of cold brew.

Her thin brows wiggled. “What a pretty penny that must have been.”

Vampires were far too nosy. Agnes, in particular, was considered the town gossip, even among her band of ancient cronies. They were always watching and listening. If anyone wanted to know about someone else’s business, Agnes was your gal.

I could feel her eyes assessing me, trying to find some juicy news. “It’s too early for your vampire tricks.”

“I thought demons loved trickery.”

“Not this morning.”

Agnes let out a sigh and drummed her sharp nails on the table. “We haven’t seen you at the club in a while. What have you been up to?”

“Work.”

“I was hoping to hear you’d found a paramour of some sort.”

She was hoping to feed her rumor mill was more like it.

“I have had plenty of women lately, thanks, Aggie. Good thing I can magic myself clean sheets, you know?” I added with a wink, hoping the insinuation would push her to drop it.

“That’s not what I meant,” Agnes chastised. “Don’t you ever get lonely?”

“No.”

“I see I’ve been relegated to your monosyllabism.”

I ripped a bite off my scone as if I were tearing flesh from bone. “Don’t you have some vampires to mother or something?” I snapped. “I’m fine. I don’t need your concern.”

“Who said I was concerned about you?” Agnes balked.

“If you’re going to be so huffy, you can enjoy your very early morning in silence.

” She held up her mug, and at the silent command, Harlow rushed over to refill it.

The human watched Agnes with rapt attention as the vampire took the first sip.

Even after a year, Harlow was still concerned she might poison the old vampire again.

When Harlow determined that Agnes was safe, she rounded to the other tables with a pot of drip coffee and a pot of hot water. Left alone again with Agnes, I became highly aware that my morning was going to be far from silent.

“So what’s new?” Agnes asked.

I looked at my watch. “Managed to give me the silent treatment for one whole minute. Good job, Aggie.”

She ignored me. “Anything interesting going on in hell?”

“Nothing that would concern an immortal like yourself,” I replied tightly.

“But the weather is nice this time of year. Thin veil and all that.” I felt a twinge of guilt for giving Agnes the ice queen treatment—not that the vampire couldn’t handle it.

She was a curmudgeon at the best of times, much like me.

The bell above the café door rang, and I looked up to see Iris wandering in. Her eyes panned the crowd, searching for . . . me.

I had to stifle a grin of pleasure at that fact.

She wore a wool skirt with a cream turtleneck, which would have been enough to make her look like she had stepped out of a fall-time romantic comedy, but the festive sweater vest with argyle and pumpkins across the chest solidified that she belonged in Maple Hollow.

I wondered if she’d dressed extra kitschy just to spite me.

Several patrons turned to look at Iris, and honestly, who could blame them?

I let out a little grumble at myself. I didn’t do sunshine and sweetness. I was a creature of the night. Still, a small thrill zipped through me when her eyes finally landed on mine and she smiled.

What I would give to bottle up the feeling of when Iris smiled at me.

“What was that?” Agnes quipped, noticing our silent exchange. “Oh, she’s coming over. So you really do know this redheaded witch.”

“Yes. We are acquainted,” I gritted out as Iris bridged the distance between us. “And I don’t know her the way you’re implying. She’s just helping me with . . . a quandary I’ve encountered.”

“Hey!” Iris breezed over with the easy warmth of sunlight on a cold autumn day. “Ready to go to the crystal shop?”

“You’re going crystal shopping?” Agnes balked. “With Halloween Barbie over here?”

“Shut it, Aggie.”

When Agnes’s smile only widened, I was suddenly very aware of the fact that the vampire had wanted to see if I would come to Iris’s defense.

And I’d fallen for the bait.

“We have some business to take care of with the witch who owns the shop,” I said tightly.

“Soul-snatching business?” Agnes shot back.

“What do you know about that?”

“Naphula may have shared your frustrations with me,” she replied with a shrug. “But you’re barking up the wrong tree, I fear. No Maple Hollow witch would be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. Though, we could use some new entertainment around here.”

“No?” I arched a brow as I turned to Iris. “No witch would be foolish enough to make a deal with me, eh, Iris?”

“Nope,” she rasped.

I patted my lips with my napkin, tossed it onto my plate, then rose to stand. “I’ll catch you around, Agnes.” I clapped her on the shoulder. “Steer clear of the nutmeg.”

“That was one time!” I heard Harlow mutter as she passed by with two porcelain mugs in hand.

I snickered, not waiting to hear Agnes’s farewell as I walked out the back door of the café and into the alley. I didn’t look to see if Iris followed, but judging from the clopping of her high-heeled boots, she was close behind.

“So I was thinking . . .,” Iris began. I rolled my eyes and hastened my gait. “Maybe you should stay outside while I talk to Citrine. She’s kind of shy and you’re?—”

“I’m what?” I whirled around faster than Iris could anticipate, and she collided with my chest.

She staggered back a step to catch herself, a scintillating shade of crimson coloring her cheeks. “Um, intimidating?”

“Good.”

Iris cleared her throat and moved around me, giving me a wide berth. “Just let me handle it,” she pushed. “Please?”

I shrugged. “Be my guest, Halloween Barbie.”

“Please don’t let that turn into my thing,” she grumbled as she took the lead.

I slowed my pace so she could storm off ahead of me . . . and I didn’t mind in the slightest that I got to watch the way her hips made that skirt swish.

Seven Hells.