Page 3 of Beautiful Heart

“What the hell?”

The alley was not the dark, damp, trash-filled void between buildings it had appeared to be just seconds before. An array of bright white twinkle lights glowed from the right wall of the alleyway. The light was reflected on the wall opposite and filled the alley. Looking behind her, Gerri saw the empty street, but this was not the scene she had seen from the sidewalk.

Slowly stepping forward, she approached the spot where the strings of lights came together around a doorway. As she proceeded, she was surprised there was no trash on the ground, no homeless people living in boxes, not even a rat scrounging for an early morning snack. This had to be the cleanest alley in the city. But why hide it?

The door was painted a deep red. The frame around it was bright purple. The colors should have clashed horribly, but somehow they worked well together. A brass plaque on the wall near the shiny doorknob glinted under the lights. Gerri leaned closer to make out the engraved words.

“Mystic’s All-Night Café,” she said softly. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Not surprising,” Livingston said. He reached past her and opened the door. “It’s not the sort of place blands usually frequent. In fact, I’m not sure blands can even get into the alley.”

“Blands? What are blands?”

Gerri stepped through the doorway and wondered if she had stepped into a new world. Or maybe a time portal into an Old-World restaurant halfway across the continent.

The café as Livingston called it appeared larger than it had from the alley outside. The left side of the room held a display case of pastries, as well as the counter and kitchen area behind it. The rest of the room was filled with a dozen small, mismatched wooden tables with either two or four chairs. All the furniture had been painted in a rainbow of muted, musty-toned colors. The walls and floor were covered with wide, golden-brown pine boards that looked well worn. The ceiling tiles were of punched copper that seemed to glow in the available light from wall sconces around the room.

Except for the presence of the large, highly chromed appliances behind the counter, Gerri felt as if she had stepped back several hundred years in time to an English pub. Then she noticed the walls. Paintings of what appeared to be vampires, witches, shape-shifters, angels, ghosts, and other supernatural creatures were displayed, making her turn to Livingston and raise one eyebrow.

“What is this place?”

“Welcome to Mystic’s All-Night Café. You’ll be wanting a private table in the back, Livingston?” A voice came from behind her before Livingston had a chance to answer her question.

Gerri turned and had to snap her jaw closed to keep from gaping at the woman who had snuck up on them without her noticing.

She looked like a voodoo queen who had stepped out of the Louisiana bayou. The ancient woman with wrinkled skin the deep brown of milk chocolate was maybe five feet tall, and could not have weighed more than ninety pounds. Her pure white hair was cut short and curly. Her deep brown eyes seemed to hold the wisdom of the ages, and her smile was welcoming and showed off bright white teeth that looked natural with no dentures.

She wore a bright orange t-shirt with the saying, “Their First Mistake was Thinking I was Just an Old Lady,” printed on it. Her ankle-length orange, brown, and yellow tiered skirt stopped just above her ankles, showing that the Crocs on her feet matched her shirt and seemed perfectly acceptable with the rest of her outfit. Her jewelry consisted of many necklaces, both gold and a rainbow of colorful beads that were repeated in the bracelets on each arm. That as well as the half dozen rings she wore only added to the feel of being in the presence of a mystical practitioner.

Gerri wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or comforted when Mystic patted her shoulder and murmured something she couldn’t understand.

“That would be great, Mystic,” Livingston answered.

His hand was a cool spot in the middle of her back as he guided her to follow their hostess. They crossed the café to a table in the back right corner that was partially hidden from the room by a planter full of greenery.

Once they were seated, Gerri looked for a menu, but there was none to be found. When she turned to ask for one, Mystic studied her, then looked at Livingston for a moment before nodding.

“Peppermint hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and assorted pastries to share,” she declared before walking away.

Though she wanted to disagree with the woman that hot chocolate was too calorie-rich for her, Gerri took a breath and changed her mind. After her scare on the street with Stupid One and Stupider Two, something sweet and chocolatey would be perfect.

Turning her attention to the man who sat across from her, she licked her lips. The intense way he watched her had her pussy clenching with surprising anticipation. The past few minutes had left her with so many questions, but she wasn’t sure where to begin, so she stayed silent.

Livingston seemed content with the silence. Gerri grew more and more nervous as he simply sat and watched her with those deep brown eyes. She couldn’t read his emotions, which was unusual, but then she had a hard time looking into them for more than a few seconds at a time.

When she couldn’t take the silence another second, she said, “So, you were going to explain things?”

He nodded with a slight upturn to his lips. “I was. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have. But you must ask for what you want, Princess.”

Gerri nodded, then studied the wooden tabletop. Where to begin with questioning this man? She had a feeling he was much more than he represented himself to be.

“What are blands? What happened at the entrance of the alley? Is Mystic a witch? What makes you not bland? Are you going to kill me? Or kidnap me and make me a slave of some sort? I’ve got to tell you, at my age and after the accident, I wouldn’t be much good as a sex slave, and while I’ve been known to get wild in the past, lately it’s all I can do to get through my workday and take my walks in the wee hours of the morning.”

****

Livingston tried not to burst out laughing, but it was difficult. He decided to wait until after their food came to explain, though giving Gerri something to throw at him might not be the best idea. Instead, he would begin to slowly introduce his mate-to-be to his world.

“You’ve read stories, seen movies about supernatural beings?”

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