Page 105 of Blue Moon Mistress

A minute later…

Ten? My treat.

Chase moves to stand in front of me, leaning on the island. “Do I need to tell someone to get lost for you?”

“No. But thank you.” I put the phone on the counter beside him and step between his legs standing as close to him as I can, and sling my arms over his shoulders.

“It’s just a witch who used to be in the coven. She’s getting pushy about meeting up.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to tell her to get lost?”

I nod and lean into him, just long enough to kiss him. “I can’t avoid her forever.”

Lips quirking as I take a step back—distraction is the last thing I need right now—he lets me go.

“Couldn’t you do a—” he waves his hand wildly in front of his face “—and make her forget you even exist?”

“Not on another witch, and not on someone else without a very potent potion.”

“I had been thinking… that would be a way to deal with the possibility someone could take away your wolves. You do the spell, then wipe their memory of ever being wolves at all.”

“Memory spells are ugly things. They’re pervasive and can take on a mind of their own, so to speak. And targeting specific things… To make you forget you were werewolves, I’d have to take pretty much everything from your memories between changing and now… You guys wouldn’t even remember each other.”

He grimaces. “Yeah, that would suck.”

“Big memory wipes like that are dangerous and completely immoral.”

“And you need a potion for them?”

“I’ve never met a witch who could do it by a spoken spell… though, I don’t think that precludes the possibility.” I sigh, looking back at the phone on the counter. “I should probably ask some questions, anyway.”

“So, you’ve got to go meet up with this woman, get answers and then, you’re done, right? Give her a ‘thanks but no thanks’ next time.”

“Hopefully that’s all I’ll need.”

I text her back, agreeing, and getting the address.

I’m out the door at nine forty-five… well, almost. Chase manages to distract me for a few minutes before I go.

She’d picked a coffee shop close to the boardwalk, but still far enough away there was reasonable parking.

Still… I pulled into a lot two storefronts over and popped open my umbrella to make the walk through the drizzle. Two of the shops have brightly lit windows, their interiors look so inviting, I make a mental note to step inside on my way back to the car, to see if I might be in need of their wares.

But the coffee shop—its peeling-paint sign reads “Cafe Olé!” scrawled across the face of a bull—is dark. It looks more like a bar from the outside. And when I step inside, matters don’t improve.

Smoking might be illegal indoors, but the incense that’s burned here is worse.

The place seems deserted.

Sure, there are two people at wingback chairs near an electric fireplace, but they are both tucked into books, ignoring the rest of the world. And the rest of the dimly lit place is an empty little cavern.

But Aphrodite stands out like a glowing ember in an otherwise dead fire pit.

“I’m so glad to see you!” She gets to her feet and hugs me before I can even hint that I don’t want it. And when she pulls back from me, it’s with too sugary-sweet of a smile.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t order for you.”

I don’t thank her.

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