Page 6 of Magic & Mochas (Tales of Love & Lore #1)

Chapter four

Pumpkins my familiar has no manners,” I said aloud as Thorne withdrew his hand. Silently, I asked Silas, What do you mean?

Instead of answering, he wriggled free from my arms and leaped onto one of the shelves to watch us both from a higher vantage point.

“Are you at least going to help?” I asked aloud for Thorne’s benefit.

A single pumpkin decoration magically rolled back into the crumpled remains of the box. And then Silas began to groom himself.

“Gee, thanks.” I propped my hands on my hips. “Whatever would I do without you?”

With a snap of my fingers, I repaired the box and sent all of the little pumpkin decorations back in with a wave of my hand. When I glanced at Thorne, he was watching me with a hint of amusement behind his violet eyes.

“Would you mind?” I asked sheepishly, gesturing at the box.

“Not at all.” With an ease I envied, he scooped up the box like it was filled with feathers.

I led the way back into the shop, and he placed the box down gently on top of one of the freshly-polished countertops.

I grabbed my grimoire from where it hung from my belt and flipped it open to the middle.

After consulting it on the verbiage, I invented a charm on the spot to levitate and attach all of the decorations in the box throughout the space.

After gathering my magic power and muttering the words, all of the cute little decorations danced out of the box and swirled through the air until I could direct each one to where I wanted it.

I hung the purple curtains over the windows, draped the pumpkin lights along the walls, and arranged the fake Jack o’Lanterns along the counters and in the corners of the room.

Then I sent all of the fake candles to hover in the air near the ceiling.

That took a bit more magic than I had anticipated, so I leaned against the counter as I wiped my brow. I would need to refine that charm so that it used less energy in the future.

“Did you just create a new spell?” Thorne looked impressed.

I nodded. “Nothing fancy, just a simple charm. It eats up a bit too much magic for my liking though, so I’ll have to refine it before I use it again.”

“You do know it takes most witches weeks to do what you just did in a few minutes, right?” he asked.

“It does?” My mom always rattled off new charms like it was nothing, and Rasmus had never batted an eye at the practice, either.

“It does.” Thorne gave me an inscrutable look. “After all of that hard work, how about I take you out for lunch?”

I blinked. “What?”

“We should also discuss our public appearances as a couple.” He smirked, crossing his arms.

“Good idea. And I could definitely go for an iced coffee right about now. I’m happy to treat you, though,” I added quickly. “As thanks for your help.”

He frowned for a moment, before understanding dawned in his eyes. “I’m only squatting in the apartment because I was turned away from the inn and the realtor’s office, not because I couldn't pay.”

Now it was my turn to frown. “Why would they not accept your business? And why did you ask for three months of free rent, then?!”

His expression hardened. “Shadowmancers have…something of a reputation. Though only the older generation can tell what I am unless I use my powers.” After a moment of silence, his eyes softened. “Why not ask? You agreed, after all.”

“I suppose I did, didn’t I?” I pushed off from the counter and led the way to the front entrance.

Silas, the little nuisance, appeared to trot along at my feet, no doubt summoned by the mention of food.

After I had locked the door behind me, it suddenly occurred to me to ask, “How did you get in without a key?”

Thorne grinned. “Shadowmancers make excellent lockpicks. There are very few locks that can keep us out.” He held up a key that was identical to mine but made out of solidified shadows.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m sure that little trick comes in handy.”

“Very. Shall we? I hear The Hearthstone Diner makes an excellent coffee.” Thorne offered me his arm, and after a moment of hesitation, I took it.

“I will be the judge of that. I was trained by a true Italian master, I will have you know, so I have very high standards.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he commented, his violet eyes seeming to see right through me.

And for some reason, I don’t think he was still referencing coffee.