Page 137 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“Not until you explain why you left me without saying anything.” Dahlia slipped the ring under her shirt. “Though I can guess.”

Talula ran a self-conscious hand through her hair. “I’m not supposed to fall for you. I’m supposed to keep my worlds separate, keep the magic secret.” She looked at Dahlia apologetically. “When I found your poster board, I thought all my worst-case scenarios of being with you were coming true. I thought you were using the Blue Moon for your book. Using me for your book.”

“What? No!” Dahlia reached for Talula. “I would never do that. This is your life!”

“Then why were you being so secretive about your latest story idea? The one you wanted to talk to that publisher about?” Talula asked softly.

Dahlia let out an anxious breath. “Because the story is me. I’m writing about my childhood traveling with my parents doing life, nursing, archaeology, and love. It felt right, but also kind of scary, you know? It’s easier to hide behind fiction.”

“Oh.” Talula sat down next to Dahlia. “That sounds really wonderful.”

Dahlia beamed. “Thank you.”

Talula searched Dahlia’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew about the magic?”

“I would have told you…I wanted to tell you.” Dahlia took Talula’s hands in hers. “But then you said you had a big secret that you couldn’t tell me, so…I wasn’t sure what to do. But I was sure I wasn’t supposed to know anything.”

Talula could see Dahlia’s conundrum. She wasn’t sure she could have done much better. She sighed, a little relieved that everything was out in the open. “I’m actually glad you know. I promise I’ll fill in the blanks after everyone is safe.”

“I’m glad you know that I know.” Dahlia dimpled at her. “But at this point, there aren’t too many blanks to fill in. I’m pretty observant.”

“Is this feelings fest over? May we get on with saving lives?” Simon barked.

“Sorry,” Dahlia said, her smile widening. “Also, hi Simon!”

Simon’s mouth quirked. “You’re not surprised that I can talk?”

“You don’t whisper as quietly as you think you do.” Dahlia held up Kiki’s ring, her eyes steely with determination. “Now let’s get some jinn.”

Talula grasped the ring. She let her power mingle with the ring’s enchantments, focusing on calling jinn to the café. Just not Kiki. The ring’s magic hummed, the request understood and executed.

The air in the café shimmered a brassy gold. Talula twined her fingers through Dahlia’s. Whatever or whoever was to come, she was glad Dahlia was there.

But instead of a fleet of fire-eyed jinn filling the café, one lone, familiar figure appeared. They wore an outfit worthy of the swankiest Prohibition gangsters, complete with suspenders, waistcoat, and a hat perched jauntily over their tightly wrapped gold headscarf. “You rang?”

“Kiki!” Talula cried. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I know, but your call was so cruel.” Kiki pouted. They chucked off their hat and gave Dahlia a hello peck on the cheek. “Hello, lovely. I see you’ve caught on. That’s nice.”

“How was it cruel?” Talula asked, bewildered.

“You called for every jinn except me.” Kiki folded their arms over their chest. “So I counteracted the call and let the ring bring me here.”

Talula shook her head, heart breaking. “We asked for everyone but you because…Damien is here.”

Color leached out of Kiki’s skin. Their fiery eyes turned to black coals.

“He has the whole town hostage. If we don’t give him the magical beings here at Samhain, he’s going to have his hunters destroy the town. That’s why we used the ring.” Talula wrung out her hands. “I’m sorry; I tried to use your cookbook, but I don’t know what eggs have to do with taking Damien down!”

Kiki cocked their head. “What cookbook?”

Talula quickly conjured the recipe book. “This cookbook.”

(“It’s so hot that she can do that,” Dahlia whispered to Simon, who choked.)

Kiki plucked the book from Talula’s grasp. Carefully, they flicked through the pages, eyes tracing over every word studiously. They set it down on the coffee table contemptuously.

“I didn’t write this.” Kiki scoffed. “A drunk jinn toddler might have, but not me.”