Page 19 of Haunt Me, Maybe

I didn’t reach out and touch her, though I knew I could. I remained close, just in case. Outside, somewhere far beyond my town’s borders, the night deepened. It waited. And for the first time since the witch arrived on my doorstep, I felt apprehension. Not for her, but for whatever that was that now knew where to find her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Aven

I woke from a deep slumber to sunlight in my face and a lump of toad at my feet. Groggily, I sat up on my elbows and became the unfortunate witness to a standoff. Fenn and Wes scowled at one another, the latter hovering at the end of my bed as if riding a soft current of air.

“I. Wasn’t. Watching. Her. Sleep,” he claimed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

His arms were crossed, and I couldn’t tell if it was to keep him from throwing my familiar out the window or if it was more of a defensive posture. Wait…could he touch Fenn, too?

He practically moored over you all night, Fenn affirmed.

“Ghosts don’t moor,” Wes snarled. Their argument was more entertaining than I expected on a late, lazy morning, but my amusement dried up when he turned that ire on me. “And you drool.”

Excuse me? When did I get dragged into this? I thought we’d reached a truce. Flinging the blankets off my legs, I stood before him in all my pajama glory. My eyes did a slow scan—from the floor where he hovered, to his reddened cheeks and slightly shifted gaze. He was glaring a hole somewhere in the middle of my forehead and using anger as a shield.

“You have an afterlife and still choose to loiter.” I tsked, then walked past him like he wasn’t there. “That’s not flattery, it’s stalking.”

Fenn cackled behind me as I stomped off to the bathroom with a pep in my step. Take that, asshole. There was no retaliation in the form of popped light bulbs or iced toilet water spraying my ass, so I took that as a win. I meticulously brushed my hair and smoothed my apron, my reflection in the mirror showing a girl ready to face a firing squad rather than one attending her second day of work.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous. From all angles, yesterday went great. Briony was beyond patient, and the townsfolk appeared almost eager to have a new face behind the counter. It was jarring to have so many eyes on me after spending my life avoiding that very situation, but the café smothered me with comfort and support, making it so I was somehow both anxious and at home in the same space.

It definitely made for emotional whiplash that took most of last night to wind down from. Talking with Wes helped, ironically. His negative attitude yesterday was the one constant, and its familiarity rooted me when I thought I would be washed away on an overwhelming wave of doubt and apprehension. Not that I had any plans to tell him that. And double the irony, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to haunt my every step again or lean into our truce and remain the slightly approachable man I spoke with last night.

You look terrified. Fenn hopped onto the counter, his little toes suctioning to the marble.

Rude. He was completely right, but he didn’t need to call me out on it.

“People look terrified sometimes,” I replied, running a hand over my hair for the millionth time. “It’s completely normal.”

True. He drew out the word but left it at that.

Not usually one to deal in mercy, I took the gift he dangled and left for the café. Wes was nowhere to be found as I shut the door to the attic, and I found the anticipation of wondering where he would appear to be a perfect distraction. The crisp atmospheric pressure I’d come to associate with him didn’t follow me to the square, nor did I sense it in the café itself as Briony set me to task on reorganizing displays.

With no one interrupting me and only a few customers catching my attention, I found a comfortable flow. The café’s energy wrapped around me, its natural hum deepening until all I heard was the mundane hiss of the espresso machine and the lull of soft conversations. Until all I saw were cute apple-shaped mini pies, walnut-dusted brownies…and small leaf-like sparks escaping from my fingertips.

Shit! Shit, shit.

I shook my hands, hoping to put out the magic like an unexpected fire, but that only made it dance with mischief. The sparks disappeared and delved into the very air instead, setting the dust motes to shimmer when caught in the rays of sunlight. The entire pastry case brightened, as if in approval.

This couldn’t happen! No matter how much the café liked it when I used my magic. My mouth went dry, and I frantically searched for Fenn. He had to make this go away before people noticed, or worse. I had a white-knuckled grip on the counter as I crouched and hid near the floor. I found Fenn on one of the lower shelves, his steady stare a balm for the panic storm raging within me.

Breathe, he commanded. You know your magic reacts to your emotions. Control them!

This wasn’t the first time my magic had escaped its reins, though I was far from used to the feeling. So, it took precious moments for me to focus on drawing it back into myself. The bell above the door jingled, a little too cheerily, and I glared at the café floors.

“Oooh, honey, look! The decorations are really on another level this year, don’t you think?”

A customer stood above me, ready to order, but there was no way I could get my knees to unlock. Not yet. Briony seamlessly stepped in from somewhere in the back, acting like she couldn’t see my freak out. I was seriously starting to love that woman. Two coffees were ordered, made, and slid across the counter, all while I slowly wrenched my magic back under control.

When I stood again, there was still a shimmer in the air, but it wasn’t as drastic. The customers thought it was a new fall decoration. None of them screamed about witchcraft or the devil’s spawn that served them muffins.

“You’re quite the artist,” Briony mused, a faint smile on her face.

Internally, I panicked like I’d never panicked before. She knew I was to blame for the new vibes…yet didn’t ask me how? Fenn got to work absorbing my magical signature as I watched Briony fade into the kitchen without another word. What the actual hell? Did I really just get away with that? The register drawer slid closed with a satisfied click, and I chuckled at the café’s metaphorical balls.

Fenn took that moment to sneak into the pastry display. A warning glare from me did nothing to dissuade him from munching on a scone.