Page 134 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“I’m okay,” Talula assured him, still teary-eyed. “I just can’t wait to see her.”

“You must have been so worried.” Yuki’s eyes shone with understanding. “Do you want a mom hug? To hold you over until Sara gets here?”

With an unsubtle sniffle, Talula nodded. The kitsune folded the young sorceress in her arms and gave her a hearty squeeze. Talula let out a wobbly breath into Yuki’s short shoulders.

“We’ll see you later,” Yuki promised before letting her go. She called to her kids, “Let’s go make a jack-o’-lantern for obachan!”

“Then pumpkin donuts,” demanded seven-year-old Ren, crossing skinny arms against his chest.

“And chainsaws!” Himari trilled, five years old and already exhibiting the kitsune penchant for mayhem. Yuki sighed and ushered her kids out the café door.

“Have you heard from Dahlia yet?” Simon asked.

Talula bit her lip, uneasy. “No. Nothing.”

“Give her time,” Simon urged. “Now, come. We have quite a while until the next reservation. There are several extremely intriguing smells I’d like to investigate.”

The festival grounds overflowed with attendees. Mortals in costume flooded the walkways. Blending in with the costumed humans, members of the magical community meandered without disguises, enjoying the sights and the occasional pumpkin-spiced deep-fried Twinkie.

Simon and Talula stopped by the Navarros’ for a fresh biscuit smothered in homemade raspberry jam. Anna reported that they were nearly sold out.

“We had to start taking names and email addresses from people who wanted to buy more jars!” Anna said excitedly as Emilio dutifully scratched Simon under the chin.

“Best. Samhain. Ever,” Emilio confirmed.

Simon and Talula ventured over to the main stage to watch an ancient Samhain ritual reenactment. Which Simon critiqued liberally.

“Pfff, in my day, druids had more tattoos.”

Talula checked her phone a thousand times, but no Dahlia text came through. To console herself, she found Sita Auntie at her booth, selling samosas stuffed with various curries and fillings. It was the restaurant’s first time at the festival, but they had the longest line so far.

“I saved these for you, beta.” Sita Auntie loaded Talula up with food.

“I think Kaniskha’s aunties are magic,” Talula confided to Simon as they sat on a hay bale to eat their snacks.

“All love is magic, Talula,” Simon said, taking a bite of samosa. Then a half-chewed morsel fell out of his mouth. “What is that?”

Talula followed his gaze. She spotted a long, short-legged furry creature identical in shape and fluffiness to Simon. The other creature’s coat, however, was golden brown, white, and dark chestnut.

“That’s a corgi.” Talula watched Simon’s shocked expression. She asked, as gently as she could, “Simon, you know you’re a dog, right?”

“The four legs, nubby little tail, and ridiculous ears clued me in, but thank you for reminding me,” he replied snarkily. “I just…forget sometimes.”

They watched the dog scratch at the scruff of its neck, an eerie echo of Simon’s well-worn gesture.

“Should I go talk to him?” Simon asked self-consciously.

Talula took a bite of samosa to give herself time to think of an answer. “I don’t think he’d be a great conversationalist.”

“I, however, am great at conversations.” Damien King—CEO of Orion Hunts, abusive ex of Kiki, kidnapper of Sara, and terrorizer of magical beings—sat down next to Talula with a plate of pumpkin-spiced funnel cake in his hand. Fear and bile rose in Talula’s throat. Simon’s ears pressed against his skull, his black lips pulled back into a feral growl.

“Great festival,” Damien said casually. “Top-notch funnel cake. You must give me the name of your guy.”

Talula could barely hear her own thoughts over her thundering heart. “You need to leave. I have a restraining order.”

“I heard. So cute.” Damien waved at a nearby cluster of costumed children. “But your small-town mall cops aren’t going to do anything, and you know it.”

“What do you want?” Talula snapped.