Page 1 of Real Fake Hauntings

ONE

Two days before Halloween.

Thirty-nine hours and five minutes, to be exact. Not that I was counting, which I totally was. This would be my first Halloween in Olmeda, and my first Halloween as an official witch shop owner.

I. Couldn’t. Wait.

I surveyed my domain, pride swelling inside my chest. The café was small but accented to cozy perfection with a dark wooden counter and stools, two tables with matching chairs, a comfy bench running the wall, a bookshelf in the corner filled with Wicca and occultism stuff, and two beautiful multi-pane windows currently covered by a witch hat and pumpkin silhouettes.

Dru stood behind the counter, getting things ready for another blissfully busy day full of tourists and locals alike. Word of mouth about the Tea Cauldron had been spreading; our special Halloween-themed muffins courtesy of a friend of Veva, the tarot shop owner, were a hit; and I could envision the shop’s bank account increasing along with our popularity. Ah, the things we could do with all that money! More merchandise. A bigger water urn. Another part-timer. Paying the new alarm system in full!

Truly, the possibilities were endless.

Not for the first time since her arrival, Dru sent me a sidelong glance, rolled her eyes, and returned to stacking our Halloween-themed leaflets.

“What?” I asked. I stepped through the bead curtain into the back and dipped into the small bathroom. A kitchen and a storage room completed the first floor while my living quarters made up the second floor of the building.

Inspecting my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t see anything wrong with my attire. I was wearing jeans and a black long-sleeve T-shirt with a special Halloween Tea Cauldron logo printed on the front. I had placed a headband with a small, cute black witch hat on top of my blond bob, and had applied a dusting of glimmer over the light layer of green makeup on the bridge of my nose and across my cheeks. It matched the green strand in my hair.

I couldn’t remember spending any Halloween with Grandma, but I knew she would be proud.

Satisfied, I returned to the shop. “It all looks good.”

A small harrumph filled the air. It had originated from one of the small decorative pumpkins I’d arranged in the center of the two tables.

Dru acted like she hadn’t heard the noise and busied herself wiping down the counter, but I caught her look of agreement. While she was aware that Bagley, evil dark witch and devil’s spawn, haunted random items in the shop, she’d agreed not to acknowledge her existence in an effort to stay off Bagley’s radar. The old hag liked to try to con people into giving her a proper body and further her evil intentions of taking over the world.

I was pretty sure Dru didn’t want to be bothered by having to listen to Bagley’s complaints about my mismanaging of her ex-shop like I was forced to, so she was happy to play the ignorant.

“Just because you hate Halloween,” I said, looking pointedly at Dru, “it doesn’t mean some of us can’t celebrate.”

“I don’t hate Halloween. I just…” She waved vaguely in my head’s direction. “That.”

“And what about this?” I tugged at my T-shirt.

As usual, Dru had ignored my pleading that she wear the shop’s T-shirt and was dressed in her own clothes. Today a dark blue blouse and black slacks. Her curly dark hair was held away from her face with silver barrettes.

“I wore these, didn’t I?” She pointed at her ears. Small silver spiders dangled from them, catching the light as she moved.

“Brrr.” I shuddered. “What about orange pumpkins tomorrow?”

“What about I don’t come to work tomorrow?”

I sighed theatrically. “You’re lucky I like you more than I like Halloween.”

“I don’t know about that,” she muttered, putting the cloth aside and surveying the counter with a critical eye.

I grinned. “It’s perfect.”

“Hmph.”

Ever since Dru’s efforts to buy the Corner Rose had been thwarted by a third party to open an art gallery two weeks ago, Dru had been treating the counter like her personal kingdom. We still had to meet the new owner of the Corner Rose—human, since they hadn’t had to ask for permission from the Paranormal Business Owners Association to open the shop—but there had been some construction happening inside the building.

I would never admit it to Dru, but I liked the idea of having an art gallery next door. Customers could view some art then rest their weary legs here at the shop. I was just sad Dru hadn’t gotten to make her dream come true like I had.

Getting the Tea Cauldron on probation after Bagley’s timely and completely justified demise had been a wonderful surprise for a witch like me with barely any power.

But being a witch was about a lot more than making potions to help paranormals stay hidden in the human world; it was about helping the community. If there was a lesson to be learned in my tribulations since opening the shop, it was that power didn’t mean anything—friendships did.

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