Page 1 of Icy Heart, Empty Chest
CHAPTER 1
There’s a kelpie heart on the market.
Now there’s a phone message that will get a girl going. It was from Finneas, my fence. I immediately sent a message back, “Who has it?!”
“Well, it’s not exactly on the market yet. Word is that the witch on Briar Street took one out recently.”
I rolled my eyes and sent my fingers flying across the keyboard. “So, she’s just holding it? Does she have any idea how valuable that is?”
A minute later, my phone pinged again, “Either she does and she’s holding it in case the owner wants it back or she doesn’t and could be convinced by a certain nymph to circulate it. Either way, there’s someone who wants it back enough to pay handsomely for it.”
So that was his angle. I was a talker, sure enough, but any witch worth her salt would know that the kelpie’s ability to shapeshift translated to all of their tissues. Combined with some medicines on the market, some of the worst diseases could be eradicated or at least kept at bay.
I pushed back my navy blue hair and chewed my lip, thinking about my response. Finally I sent him back, “Maybe. I’d needproof this is real. I’m not going to get fooled by some livestock heart sacrifice, not again. Then I’ll consider it.”
“Done.” I triumphantly clicked my phone off and pushed the covers off. One of the benefits of my day job was being able to sleep in. Serving coffee and pastries wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs but it was a living. Besides, I’d never planned to stay at the coffee shop long term. If this sale was real and it went through, I could afford a house, maybe on an island somewhere. Everything and anything.
I meandered around my small one-bedroom to the kitchen and put the phone on the charger. I hit the on button for my coffee maker and looked outside. It was a cool enough day for September. My neighbors, the Millers, a group of sprites, were hurrying to get their kids in their van for school.
After an admittedly long shower, I looked at the clock and started to panic. Shit, I’m going to be late. I pulled on the unofficial uniform of The Magical Beans, a black top and jeans (apron to be added later), then pulled on some black boots.
I poured my coffee into a waiting thermos and grabbed my keys, hastening down the stairs into a sprint. On a good day, it’s a fifteen-minute walk; no need for a car, the fresh air will do nicely. On a bad day, it’s an eight-minute mad dash while trying not to burn myself with my own thermos.
There was the customary line. I weaved through to the front and lifted the counter to squeeze in.
“Hey Marie,” I said breathlessly. I flung on my apron and tied my long hair into a quick braid.
“Cora, oh thank the gods you’re on time.” She was pouring hot coffee for a customer. She took their money, clicking buttons on the register. “She’s in one of her moods this morning.”
I groaned and sipped my own coffee, clocking in directly at 9am.
“What’s she doing now?” I started grabbing bags of beans to be ground, waiting for my elf friend to respond.
“Snipping at the delivery guys, triple checking the inventory that you just did two days ago, cleanliness checks…”
My eyes almost rolled into the back of my head. It was my personal theory that our centaur boss, Amy, was such a perfectionist that she came out of the womb already dry. Her only vice seemed to be her smoking habit, a smell no worker here could tolerate.
With a heavy clip clop, she was suddenly breathing on my neck.
“Those bagels could use restocking, Cora.”
“Right away, Amy.” There was never use in arguing. I finished pouring the beans in and cranked to the right setting. It was the usual morning rush from eight to ten-ish. Tired creatures of all varieties would come to premedicate before their daily grind. As we were the closest shop to the downtown and marine areas, we had a steady trade and usually no shortage of tips, especially when Marie was working. Good natured and sweet, supernaturally gorgeous like all elves, with the characteristic blue eyes and flowing light hair, she certainly broke a lot of hearts. Once she got into medical school, I could see that tip jar getting less full. It’s not that I didn’t like people. Most people just didn’t like sarcasm before coffee. It was my native language. The bell on the door signaled another customer.
Marie cleared her throat, a signal to me. My least favorite person in the universe had arrived.
Short wavy light green hair, pale skin characteristic of the kelpies, Magical Forces police uniform, almost black eyes. Check, check and check.
Damien patiently waited his turn as Marie dosed out coffee and Danishes to the next two people in line.
“Morning, Marie, Cora,” he said, reaching for his wallet. Marie smiled. “Usual large iced?”
“You remembered.”
“You do come here every day,” she teased. I rolled my eyes and shivered as I got his beverage ready. I had told her ages ago that that one could not be trusted. Securing the lid, I put it on her right, with the straw. He seemed pleasant enough but I had known him since school times.
There was a reason most customers tended to prefer Marie to me. I wore all my emotions on my sleeve and had little way to disguise them. Marie could be pleasant in almost any circumstance. The bell rang and the line was growing.
I started slicing the bagel for our next regular. “Marie, if you’re done flirting, I think Mr Katos would like his cappuccino.”
