Page 23 of The Lone Wolf Café
She didn’t even bother to stop and hang it on the hook. She made a beeline through the kitchen door and toward the front counter, and as I followed her, my jaw fell open.
The line was nearly out the door.
I had no idea how to run a café, or what I needed to assist with first, but Rowena quickly ushered me behind the counter and handed me a pair of gloves and a stack of paper pastry bags. Rowena managed the register: taking orders, mixing tea blends for packaging, and pouring hot tea into disposable to-go cups. I had no idea how she kept up with it all; to me, she seemed to be in three places simultaneously. I helped where I could, grabbing twine to tie tea blends and snapping lids onto steaming hot cups.
The first two customers only ordered tea, but the next few ordered both tea and pastries, and they were curious about the café’s new kitchen witch. They introduced themselves, asked about my baking experience, and wondered how I was enjoying Wisteria Grove. I smiled and nodded, replying with quick, cursory answers as I grabbed pastries from the display case. I wanted to make a good impression on this town, but I also wanted to remain guarded. I couldn’t have them learning too much about me.
But I learned a lot about them. Adrian, a man with deeply tanned skin and long, pin-straight black hair tied back in a lowponytail, ran the general store. He was also the local alchemist and claimed he could conjure up just about anything.
“Except healing spells since Rowena does those better, and love spells,” he explained as Rowena finished pouring him a cup of hot chai tea. “Don’t mess with love spells. They tend to go haywire.”
Juniper, the crystal witch and coven High Priestess for Willow Grove, was near the middle of the line. She asked Rowena for more of the migraine-relieving tea, since one of her friends wanted to try it.
“Do these truly relieve anxiety?” Juniper asked me, pointing at the pastry case. “That’s what I’ve heard from the others.”
“Uh, yes,” I replied. “Yes. They do.”
I cringed.Stop stuttering. You need to sound confident in your kitchen witch abilities.
Juniper smiled. “Then I’ll take two of the chocolate chip muffins, please.”
I brushed past Rowena to reach the display case, which was less than two feet away from where Juniper stood on the other side of the counter. From this close distance, I could feel something dark and heavy drifting over her. Her emotions flowed toward me, and they created a sharp, tingling sensation in my mind, like being zapped by static electricity.
She was sad. And anxious. A grueling combination.
I tightened my fingers around the thin paper of the pastry bag. My own anxiety washed over me, and I felt like a horrible person. These witches thought I was helping them, and I was just a fraud looking to make some quick money before fleeing this town.
Please,I prayed, to whatever gods might be listening.I know I’m no witch, but please let these help Juniper with her anxiety.
My stomach sank further as Juniper finished paying and reached her hand out, placing something small, round, and cool in my palm.
I extended my fingers and realized it was a coin-sized stone, black as ink and smoothed to a sharp, glossy finish. I shifted it around in my palm, and something about the weight of the stone, as diminutive as it was, helped lift the guilt and worry from my shoulders.
“It’s tourmaline,” Juniper explained. “Maine’s state gemstone. Harvested in the mountains to the north. To us witches that live in Maine, black tourmaline is the most powerful protection stone there is. I hope it keeps you safe while you’re here.” She pocketed her bagged tea purchase and shifted the worn leather satchel slung across her shoulders. “Have a wonderful day, Nettie. I’ll see you at the esbat meeting.”
Crap.My anxiety returned as Juniper waved and disappeared through the front door. I had forgotten about the esbat.It’s hard enough pretending I’m a witch in the café. How am I supposed to keep up the lie at a literal coven meeting?
I felt a slight bump against my shoulder, and I turned my head to see Rowena standing next to me, placing lids on hot cups of tea. She pointed toward the display case, since our next customer had requested a chocolate chip cookie.
I sighed, shaking my concerns out of my mind.
Focus,Nettie.
We stayed busy throughout the late morning into the early afternoon. It kept my hands busy and my mind occupied, which was a good thing. If I’d had time to slow down, my head would be spiraling from all the stress. We’d nearly sold out of the pastries, which was an excellent sign for my first official day on the job. But I feared what the rest of the week would bring. If a string of disgruntled customers would come through our doors, claimingmy pastries didn’t help their anxiety. If they would expose me as a fraud.
But as lunchtime passed and our foot traffic slowed, I did stop to notice something important. Something I hadn’t noticed before.
Rowena was standing up front, ringing up customers. She brushed her hair over her shoulder, and I caught a glimpse of her beaded necklace; the same one she’d been wearing the day before. I stepped closer, praying she wouldn’t notice me invading her personal space. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the piece of black tourmaline. My eyes flicked down to the stone, then back up to the necklace.
Yup.I slipped the tourmaline back into my pocket.Definitely the same stone.
If black tourmaline truly was the most powerful protection stone available to witches in this area, then Rowena’s necklace – which contained dozens of black beads – must’ve been incredibly potent. I realized out of all the customers we’d seen today, none of them were wearing the stone. Not even Juniper, and she was their resident crystal witch.
It filled my mind with questions as we took care of the last of the early afternoon rush.Where did Rowena get that necklace? And, most importantly, why does she need such powerful protection magic?
Chapter Seven
For the rest of the afternoon, I considered bringing it up.
