Page 3 of Twice Bitten

His famous nitro coffee was a blend that made my frigging teeth sing. Effective, but it tasted like meth and dark roast had a baby and named it Ricky Bobby. I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll see how fast your little twinkle toes can go, Little G. Even the nitro can’t keep up withmeeee!”

He barked a laugh and turned away from the window. “Hurry before those get cold.”

The cups were marked withEmmaandFleur. I looked up and spotted the two witches in a corner booth. Emma was unfamiliar, but Fleur popped in at least three times a week. As witches went, Fleur was friendly enough and had never given me cause for concern, but witches were naturally wary of one another after the witch-against-witch violence of the past, and I was careful not to prick their protective instincts or call a more than normal amount of attention to myself.

A pang of hurt zipped through me. Memories of Mom, a powerful witch herself, surfaced at the worst times, the ache I had in my chest at her absence never disappearing completely. I thought about my father far less. His absence was never one I had to get used to because he’d never been there.

Mom, on the other hand, had been there for everything. Seeing the witches sitting with their heads together now, studying a text, made me remember how she’d sit with me for hours, poring over old books in an effort to help me understand what it was to be a hedgewitch. During every lesson, Mom always emphasized how I could use my powers to better the world.

I grimaced. Not that I had, exactly. I bettered my bank account more than the world.

All things in due time, I guess?

I picked up the coffees and grinned. Guillermo had drawn a cute little ghost on top of both coffees with milk foam. Most people loved his art, but some of our younger folks had proclaimed it to be “ugh, basic.” G had thankfully never let the criticism stop him from his adorable foam art.

One time, though, a customer was so awful to me, G drew a middle finger in their latte foam, and Addy had to yell at him in front of the customers to keep them happy, even as her eyes twinkled with amusement.

I’d laughed so hard I’d almost peed myself.

I turned to walk to table 12 and slid the drinks onto Fleur’s table.

“Emma?” I looked questioningly at Fleur’s friend.

Fleur was the smaller, curvier of the two. Deep brown messily braided hair hung over her left shoulder and light brown eyes held a smile when she saw what I was holding.

Emma, the other witch, raised her hand. I slid hers over. Her eyes lit up when she saw G’s adorable ghost art.

Fleur grinned when I put her mug down. “G always nails it. I can’t wait to see what he does when it’s actually Halloween.”

“I’ll let him know he needs to bring his A-game this year,” I said.

Emma’s gaze bounced between us. “He does this all the time?”

“Guillermo is a foam art wizard. Fall is my favorite time of the year here. Wait until you see his maple leaf art.”

Fleur’s eyes lit up. “Soon, I hope?”

“November, usually. You have about a month before he goes full-on basic white girl.”

Emma smiled, more subdued than Fleur, but she seemed like a sweet person all the same. “You two know each other?”

Fleur waved her hand. “I come in here all the time. G and Alex here are the best baristas this place has.”

Aww. “Thanks, Fleur.”

Fleur jerked her head toward the other girl. “This is Emma. She’s new to town and has requested to join our coven. I’m going over a few things with her.”

My smile threatened to slip. Covens were a sore spot with my mother. Her warnings, whispered and quiet and numerous, had scarred my psyche.Stay away from covens, she’d told me.More power does not mean safety.

“Oh,” I said, relieved by how normal my voice sounded. “Did you leave a coven from your old hometown?”

Emma nodded but looked to Fleur before answering. “I wasn’t there long. Mom and Dad moved a lot, but I finally saved enough money to get my own place. I visited here once and loved it, so I decided to stay for a while.”

Fleur’s eyes softened. “Well, if you decide to join us, you’ll have a home for as long as you want.”

Mom’s feelings about covens and Fleur’s kindness to Emma were such a wild juxtaposition, I had no idea what to think.

Emma gave Fleur a shaky smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”