Page 8 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
"Oh, that'll be four fifty, and do you want any spell magic in it today? You can upgrade to a blessed day for an extra fifty cents."
I raised an eyebrow. A blessing from Cate Bennett was like snow in July—possible, but suspicious. "Why? Going to bless your favorite witch?"
Her smile turned sharp, predatory. "Have you seen the papers? Those girls... they're all like you.Powerful. Different." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that somehow felt more like a threat than concern. "Dangerous times for girls who stand out too much."
"Are you threatening me, Cate?" I asked, my voice steady despite the chill that ran down my spine.
She straightened up, that false sweetness returning to her expression. "Just making conversation. After all, it would be such a shame if something happened to our town's most... notorious resident."
She shrugged. “You are the town wicked witch.”
I chuckled darkly and shook my head. Knowing Cate, she'd probably slip a curse into my drink and then spread rumors that every problem on this side of the river was my fault. Believe it or not, Cindee's shop did get the occasional difficult customer, and a cursed drink wasn't too hard to believe around here. I'd definitely need to watch Cate make whatever I ordered. "No, thanks. Not today. But maybe later." I winked at her.
Cate stood there waiting for me to pay, but I just blinked at her innocently, enjoying her obvious discomfort. "Oh, I don't pay."
Cate pressed her lips together as her gaze flashed briefly red. "Everyone pays."
"Not me." I shrugged and moved out of the way to await my coffee in a spot where I could watch Cate while she worked.
"Everyone pays," she repeated with more force than snorted as I flashed another glorious smile at her anger, and her fingers curled into fists, lips twisting into a sneer.
"Best work on that coffee, Cate," I said with a pleasant smirk, then bared my teeth in a quick snap, a silentwarning beneath the charm. Hexes and Brews had always been my favorite haunt. So when Mark and Cindee nearly lost it a few years ago, I made them an offer: I'd buy the place, silently. No one could know. In return? Free coffee. Endless scones. And the satisfaction of saving my sanctuary.
No one would ever know I helped them because no one in their right mind would buy anything from me if they were smart. I started to roll my eyes but then decided against it. It isn't worth the fight. Cindee can set her straight later. I had more important things to do.
"Fine," I smirked. Most people wouldn't question my answer, but Cate had never been very smart. Or she really didn't care. I wasn't quite sure yet. Since Cate had already stalked away from the counter, I pulled out a ten and left it by the register. "For whoever's actually making my coffee," I called out loudly enough for the whole shop to hear.
"How generous," she mocked before she moved to begin making the brew. I stayed close by, watching her. From the mischievous look in her eyes, I suspected that she would reach down under the counter to grab the vial that would curse the coffee to a bad day, and sure enough, she did.
I let her finish the incantation under her breath, murmuring my own just beneath mine, too soft for her to catch. As she finished up and set it on the counter, her smile was too pleased with herself. That smile would change quickly; she just didn't know it yet.
I scanned the café. Some days, I worked quietly in the corner, savoring the scent ofpastries and fresh coffee. But today wasn't one of those days. A young mother stared at me, clutching her children. A boy, no older than eight, stood frozen, his eyes round as coins, lips parted as if the scene might vanish if he so much as blinked.
I gave him a small smile, which he returned. His mother warned him to leave me alone. The words ‘black magic’ slipped from her quiet lips as the boy's curiosity turned to fear. No, today was not the day to stay in the cafe and work. I sighed, took my cursed coffee, and moved to leave the cafe.
The door shut behind me, and autumn's bite hit hard, making me shiver. I turned back just in time to see Cate's luck unravel. The espresso machine sputtered and clogged. Then, when she reached for the frother, it exploded, scalding milk sprayed everywhere. She shrieked as it hit her skin.
Her angry gaze swung to the window, where I smirked and gave her a little wave. Angry eyes met mine, and she snarled. And though I couldn’t hear her, her lips moved as she let a string of expletives go all directed at me. I turned to walk up the sidewalk back to the path that would lead me home as I chuckled to myself. It served her right to try to curse me. Didn't she know I was wicked?
I noted her curse as it slipped from her lips. Before I could counteract it, it slipped past my defenses and nothing happened. I raised an eyebrow as Cate fumed, glaring at me through the window. Her body contorted from pain as whatever spell she'd thrown my way had mirrored back at her. The spell I'd performed earlier was still working. I smirked and shook my head, lifted my not-so-cursed coffee and took a sip before turning to walk away.
As I left the shop, movement in the alley caught my eye. Someone had painted a symbol on the brick wall between the buildings—an old rune I recognized but couldn't quite place. With my warm coffee in hand, I moved closer to inspect it. When I reached out to touch the painted symbol, magic hummed beneath my fingertips, dark and purposeful. I jerked my hand back.
Biting my lip, I studied the rune. I'd seen it before, long ago, and I tried to remember where. It was old and represented purity... or no, close, but not exactly. I glared at it, as if the answer would just appear.
Taking out my phone, I snapped a photo, dread pooling in my stomach. Missing girls, mysterious symbols, and whispers about outside investigators. Something was hunting young witches in Old Hollows, and with my reputation, I'd be the perfect scapegoat when the real monster struck again.
I hurried away, sipping my coffee and avoiding the front of the shop in case Cate got some idea to zap me in her anger.
Some people never learned. Even with that thought, the symbol plagued me, because as much as I wanted to think it was benign, I had a sinking pit of dread that it was a sign that something bad was coming.
Something far more malicious than me.
Three
Sage
"What are you doing here, Paige?" I demanded as I kicked the snow off my boots and onto my rickety porch. Paige stood with her arms wrapped around her body, her breath forming puffy clouds every time she spoke, her usual brightness dimmed by obvious worry.
