Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection

by Kerry Adrienne

  “Then, I’m lucky your dad isn’t a gypsy.” He grinned.

  I shook my head. “You don’t know what my dad is. Could be worse than a gypsy. I’ll send down some food, coffee, and bottles of water. Don’t leave the basement.”

  Uncle Vinny came back. “Got a plan?”

  “He can stay until you patch him up and find another place. I don’t want him around the twins too much. You need to make a plan for as soon as he can travel,” I said.

  “I understand. Think you can heal him?” Uncle Vinny asked.

  “Probably, but he needs to be stronger. He’s faking strength, right now, but I can feel he’s weak. Let Aunt Mandy stitch up the wounds, clean him up, then he can rest. When he’s stronger, we’ll do a healing session or a few.” I texted an order to the sandwich shop next door. Somehow, soup seemed in order, and theirs was the best.

  “Okay, I’ll tell her. You arrange the food and maybe see if the vamps can spare some clean clothes. He’s a mess.” Uncle Vinny shook his head.

  “It happens. With all the video cameras out there, your job gets harder and harder,” I said.

  “People see what they want to see on them.” Uncle Vinny sighed and headed upstairs.

  I shot the young hunter a look. He didn’t appear nervous, at all.

  “So, what are your powers? Breaking hearts?” he teased.

  I shook my head. “Healing, potions, spells, a touch of empathic vibrations—among others.”

  “Loaded witch. Most of the Wiccans or pagans I meet are all talk,” he said.

  He wanted a demonstration. “I’m not a magician here to entertain you.”

  “Impress me. Scare me into obeying all your rules.” He winced and grinned too fast to cover his weakness.

  The flirtation was a distraction for him. He was trying to forget his pain.

  I stared at a dusty bottle of Jack Daniels on the top shelf. There was a ton of coffee and tea stock in the storeroom area, but in here, there were other essentials. I focused and felt the bottle vibrate. I mentally yanked it from the shelf and countered gravity to keep it from freefalling. It floated lower and lower.

  Ryan grabbed it and opened it fast. “You’re an angel of mercy.”

  “No, that’s my aunt. Be warned, if you make fun of her hippie ways or eccentric style, my uncle will feed you to the werewolves himself. He left the gypsies for her, and they may be different, but they’ve got the most stable marriage I’ve ever seen.”

  “Opposites do attract. Like a hunter and a no-harm doing but powerful witch.” He took a slug of whisky.

  I tried not to blush. He was hot, even if he was full of himself. “If I have to do harm, I do it. Don’t drink too much. Auntie has all natural painkillers that will knock you out and keep you loopy.”

  “All natural?” he scoffed.

  “Cannabis, opium—hell, cocaine is all natural—it’s how you distill and use it. She won’t get you high, but your pain will be over soon,” I said.

  “Send her in. But promise you won’t take advantage of me while I’m out of it. I want to remember.” Ryan blew me a kiss.

  I glanced at the bottle in his hand, and it slipped and landed on his very bruised ribs.

  “Damn it! Witch!” he shouted.

  I walked up as Aunt Mandy was coming down. “He’s really in pain, poor dear,” she said.

  “Don’t ‘poor dear’ him. He’s a handful. Thinks he’s hotter than hell and twice as tempting.”

  She shook her head, her blonde hair swinging with her. “I’m sure it’s the pain. He’s acting tough and covering. The man is being hunted for doing his job and the human world just doesn’t understand. I’ll take care of him, for now. You get back up there.”

  “Sure you don’t need help? He’s strong.” I didn’t want to help, but seeing Hot Hunter Guy stripped naked wasn’t the worst thing in the world. “The twins will fall for his flirting crap.”

  “They’re in college—plenty of normal guys full of crap to flirt with there. If I need someone, Esmerelda can help. You don’t need to be around a hunter like him.” Aunt Mandy nodded.

  “What do mean like him? He’s just a human. I lock up werewolves and work with vampires every day,” I said.

  “This is a stranger. He could take advantage of younger women.” She waved at Esme.

  Esmerelda, in her black cat form, darted down the stairs and sat in the entryway to the concealed rooms. The powerful witch would keep my aunt safe. Esme was deeply connected to the witch world and even taught private lessons to some in the coven. I somehow ended up in between humans and paranormal people.

  “You two don’t have too much fun.” I smiled and let the older ladies get to work with the young fresh meat. My aunt was lying about the stranger, but I didn’t push it. We all took turns handling whatever crisis came in the back door.

  Esmerelda was the perfect one to keep an eye on him. At one hundred and twenty-five years old, she’d lived most of her life as a cat. In human form, she looked about thirty, but as long as she lived more than half of her life as a cat—she could have all nine lives. She was also a powerful witch—the only one I knew that was stronger than me. I’d wanted to be her since I was a little girl. I loved cats and her power level.

  “You okay?” Aunt Mandy asked.

  “Yeah, I just don’t want him hanging around too long. He likes what he does a little too much. I think.” I had no proof, only instinct and years of living with a hunter and meeting tons of them through my uncle.

  “Well, if he makes a false move, Esmerelda will turn him into a frog.” Aunt Mandy smiled.

  “Frog’s legs for dinner?” I teased.

  “Too far. You so got your mother’s sense of humor.” Aunt Mandy smacked my shoulder and headed down. “Go upstairs and don’t let this hunter play with your mind. Men like this are players, and they look for any opening.”

  I went up. My aunt often warned me off of bad boy types. My dad probably had that streak, and Aunt Mandy was worried I had my mom’s taste in men. The only thing I knew for sure that I got from my father was my hair. My mom had been a dark blonde, but still a blonde. What else did I have from my mysterious dad? It didn’t really matter, now. I pushed the tragic history out of my mind, like usual.

  Brad handed me my tea.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  The line had gone down with the twins behind the counter. They were experts.

  Iris and Violet came over. “Is he cute?”

  They were freaky good at being in unison. I envied that they were never alone.

  “Cute, full of himself, and dangerous,” I said. “Stay away.”

  “Come on, that’s just mean,” Violet said.

  “It’s the truth.” I tried to ignore the tingle still running through me. He was a bad boy hunter, and yet, I liked the attention. Thankfully, the twins had too many people looking out for them. “At barely eighteen, you two need to get degrees and careers—not entangled with hunters.”

  “College boys are no better. They want to screw everything, and then, it’s over. At least a hunter risks his life for something that matters. He understands loyalty and dedication,” Iris said.

  “I’d rather see everyone working to bring the vampires and weres into harmony with humans. We can make it possible for them to be safe and live with us. I want hunters to have less work.” I sipped my tea.

  Iris checked her phone. “We better head to class. But you should stay away, Claudia. Really, he’s not our type of hunter.”

  “So?” I asked.

  She stared at her phone. “They don’t always get gypsy ways or witches. You don’t want him to pick up on anything.”

  Violet bumped her sister. “Pick up on what?”

  Iris shook her head. “Nothing. Hunters always want an advantage. This guy doesn’t know us or trust us, so keep your guard up, like you told us to do. That’s all. Gotta go. Bye.”

  “Bye,” Violet said with a shrug.

  “Bye, study!” I called. Iris seeme
d to know something I didn’t. Vi didn’t seem to be in on it either. Maybe Iris was being paranoid, but Aunt Mandy had wanted me away from the guy, as well. Why?

  “More tea, boss?” Brad asked.

  “No, thanks. Do you have any old clothes you’d like to donate? It’s for a homeless men’s shelter. My aunt said they were low.” Lying was part of the game, but Brad might freak and run if he knew a hunter was one floor below him.

  “I’ll look. I’m on again for the night shift, so I’ll bring them by. It’s okay if I clock out?” he asked.

  “Perfect.” I noticed his replacements walking in the door. Lifting my cup in acknowledgement, I took a deep breath. The hunter guy would leave, and a new crisis would pop up. It was all how we handled them.

  I noticed my aunt’s inspirational quote of the day on the board. “Cherish now…there won’t be another.”

  There was no arguing with that. Still, I envied Esmerelda. I’d tried to do the cat thing when I was seven and again at nine. Transfiguring into a cat was just not my area. I left that to Esmerelda and Professor McGonagall. Apparently, you had to start the transfiguring routine before puberty for it to stick and the nine lives to take hold.

  Then again, did I want to see this world for the next seven hundred or more years? That seemed daunting. I’d do the best I could and enjoy my time. The crew this shift were all experienced, so I headed up the spiral stairs to our cozy reading nook. Fluffy chairs and sofas flanked shelves of books, much like the first-floor seating area.

  We let the regulars go up here when it was crowded on the first floor. There was another room there with all of the coven’s needs that was always locked.

  I straightened the books and plumped the pillows. A couple of black cats yawned and stretched. They were actual cats; Esmerelda used them as decoys when she turned human. I stroked their fur and found the treat box.

  In the midst of my cat time, I heard the raspy voice of Mrs. O’Conner. Petting the cats again, I absorbed their purring vibrations to calm me. Some of our regulars weren’t so easy to please—and some, like Mrs. O’Conner, I wished would go to the Starbucks two blocks over.

  Chapter 2

  Mrs. O’Conner was a regular. A woman in her sixties who wanted things her way. Her bright red wool coat was dusted with snowflakes as she grouched at my barista.

  If only my aunt or cousins were working, they knew how to soothe our grumbly customer. She wasn’t the only one who was hard to please, but she liked to argue. I sort of admired her; the woman had to be around retirement age, but she was out every day doing something. She came in seven days a week.

  “No, not iced!” Mrs. O’Conner snapped.

  I reluctantly went down the stairs. The barista was experienced, but the woman never ordered the same drink two days in a row.

  “Ma’am, you asked for the spiced cold brew. Did I hear you wrong?” The barista was experienced enough not to take it personally. She was a middle-aged woman who needed to get out of the house once her husband had retired. I hung back to see how they hashed it out.

  “Hot. I want the spiced cold brew hot.” Mrs. O’Conner shrugged.

  “Okay. I’m sorry; I didn’t hear you say hot.” The barista turned back and worked on the odd order.

  “I better not be late to work,” Mrs. O’Conner said.

  “Then, get here earlier.” Esmerelda darted up from the basement in human form and grabbed some stuff from behind the counter. She and Mrs. O’Conner snarked at each all the time.

  “I’m sorry for the trouble, Mrs. O’Conner. Your drink is on the house,” I said.

  “What’s wrong with it?” Esme rounded the counter and approached as Mrs. O’Conner took the lid off.

  “It’s iced.” Mrs. O’Conner held it out and started to turn.

  “I’ll take it.” Esmeralda got a little too close and bumped our customer’s arm. The cold liquid and ice hit Mrs. O’Conner mostly.

  “Crap,” I whispered to myself.

  “You did that on purpose!” Mrs. O’Conner snapped.

  “No, I was trying not to waste a perfectly good drink. I’m sorry.” Esme grabbed a towel from a barista and handed it to Mrs. O’Conner.

  “Can everyone calm down, please?” I nudged Esmerelda. “You have work to do.”

  “Fine. Send down coffee when you can.” Esme stalked off.

  I took the iced coffee and threw it away. “We’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

  “I hope I don’t catch a cold from this chill. I should get my nephew to sue you.” She took the hot cup of coffee.

  “For a chill?” I asked. “Would free coffee for a month make this up to you?”

  “It’s a start. I should find a real coffee shop, not some little witchy joke. Potions,” she scoffed.

  “If you get the Starbucks app, you can order ahead, and they have it in writing,” I suggested.

  She glared at me. “You want me to go elsewhere?”

  “I want my customers to be happy. This shop is an alternative to the chains. There’s a Dunkin Donuts in the other direction. They have an app, too. We have potions and customize drinks. More flavors. More blends. You might need some calming tea instead of coffee, but that’s your choice.” I had a wide variety of customers. College kids who wanted to be counter culture. Hipsters who rejected the prestige of the brands…at times. People with illnesses came in for customer brewed healing teas from my aunt.

  As long as we covered our bills, I was happy. I wasn’t about competition with the big chains. Losing one customer who made others uneasy wasn’t going to upset me that much.

  She shook a crooked finger at me. “You’ll never see me here, again.”

  When the door closed, some of the customers clapped. I sighed and saw the relief in the smiles of my baristas. There were plenty of places to grab coffee.

  “Everyone in line gets a free biscotti or muffin for the wait. I’m running next door to get some soup and stuff. There’s a friend staying the basement spare room,” I said.

  The baristas would find out eventually when they needed supplies.

  I swung into the soup and sandwich place that opened early for breakfast sandwiches.

  “Hi, Claudia, your order is ready.” Fred was a sweet guy pushing thirty. His shop had homemade bread and soups. The smell alone made me give up the idea of ever going no carb.

  “Thanks. Can you add a couple of grilled cheeses and a turkey, ham and Swiss to those? Plus a couple pints of the potato soup?” I might as well get lunch for me, Aunt Mandy, and Esme since they’d be tired from working on the hunter.

  “Anything for you.” He went to work. “They say there’s a snowstorm coming. You ready?”

  “Always ready. It’s New England.” I shrugged. “Soup weather. Business good?”

  I had vamps to shovel the sidewalk, and they didn’t mind the cold. I had an awesome collection of knee high and thigh high boots with soles that gripped well. I was tall enough; heels weren’t necessary. I liked heels, but in winter, I could leave them.

  “Business is good. I wish I had some ancestral witch connection to market like you do. It’s genius. The witch’s brew.” He complimented me on the name of my shop all the time. But about business. He had the oddest ways of flirting I’d even seen. The guy was nice, good-looking, hardworking, but human. No wizard potential. No power.

  Probably what I should be looking for, only it did nothing for me.

  He hit buttons on the cash register display. “And the friends and family discount,” he said so I could hear.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said, just like every other time.

  “We small businesses have to stick together. You’ve got coffee chains surrounding you. I’ve got all sorts of sandwich shop chains. Subway has soups, now. We will survive. My grandparents opened this shop.” He looked around fondly.

  “I know we’ll survive. Come by for some coffee later, on the house. You can’t live on soup,” I teased him.

  “Thanks. I just give you a
discount; you give it away.” He took my credit card and ran it through.

  I signed the slip, put my card away, grabbed my big order and headed for the door. I could’ve gotten it myself, but there was Fred opening the door for me.

  “Thanks.” I left and really wished I could tell Fred that I was a serious witch. Humans just weren’t my thing. I wanted to be a powerful witch, and a guy without powers seemed dull. Of course, the flip side was that power sometimes tempted people to the dark magics.

  A powerful wizard with a sense of right and wrong; was that so hard to find? Maybe it was.

  I surrounded myself with ethical checks and touchstones to keep me from enjoying my powers too much that I crossed that imaginary line to the dark.

  A customer held the door for me, and I slipped inside. “Thanks.”

  Aunt Mandy was taking a tea break and grabbed some of the bags. We headed in the back behind the counter through the door to the kitchen. There was a break room there, as well as the usual dishwashers and sinks.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  “More hurt than he’ll admit. I think he needs more than one healing session. There must be internal injuries.” She collected some food and other essentials. She took Esme’s food, as well.

  “Esme can come up and eat,” I said.

  “She wants to keep an eye on him. He’s tried to break free twice. She had to put a spell on him twice. He wants to leave,” she said.

  “Let him,” I replied.

  “He’s hurt. I think he’s afraid of witches, quite honestly. Most hunters have had a bad para experience that drives them to keep the peace and seek justice,” she said.

  “And some just like an excuse to kill,” I added.

  “He says you treated him like a prisoner,” she said.

  “He’s full of crap. Scared and lashing out. Get going or your grilled cheese will be cold.” I unwrapped my meat heavy sandwich.

  Another thing my hippie aunt couldn’t convert me to: vegetarianism. I found paper bowls for the soup and poured myself some. I grabbed a fruity mixer drink from the fridge that turned out to be a sample of a new flavor. Strawberry Kiwi Grape with some green tea extract.