Page 17 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“Who taught you to use a toilet?”

“Mom!” Talula laughed, throwing a pistachio at her mother.

Sara ducked, chuckling. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

With an exasperated sigh, Talula bit into a still-soft cookie. She savored the creamy and salty flavors of pistachio amplifying the sweetness of the chocolate. She offered her mother a cookie with a phrase from one of Sara’s first languages. “Noosh-eh joon.” May this nourish your body and soul.

“Khasteh nahbahshee,” Sara gave the traditional response—Thank you and may you not be tired from your hard work. “Thanks, my heart.”

“By the way, what’s with the cookies?” Talula pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and poured some into a glass. “I can’t remember the last time you baked—”

Suddenly, Talula did remember. Sara had baked muffins (from a box mix) when she’d brought a refuge-seeking teenage werewolf to the house. He’d been moondrunk and guzzled a fishbowl’s worth of water (and Talula’s pet goldfish along with it). Sara had baked again when a litter of rescued sphinx kittens had gotten into Talula’s closet, yowling riddles and clawing through her clothes. Sara had made Funfetti cupcakes. They’d been dry.

Talula set down the milk, dread growing in her gut. “Is someone coming to stay?”

“Yes,” Sara said, swiping another cookie.

Talula groaned.

“This won’t be like the basilisk eggs,” Sara chided. Talula shuddered—she’d forgotten about the basilisk eggs. Sara had made a whole Betty Crocker box cake, with frosting, sprinkles, and everything. She continued. “Our guest will be here for you.”

Talula choked. “What?”

“The Council is sending someone to help you manage the Volta while I’m gone,” Sara explained. “Once word gets out about these trophy hunters, we’re expecting an influx of magical beings who’ll need the Volta.”

Talula stared down at her chocolate-smudged hands. If she’d figured out how to work the Volta by now, if she was actually a worthwhile sorceress, she wouldn’t need a babysitter. She wouldn’t be a burden to the Council or her mother.

“They’ll teach you, too! That way you can practice your magic while I’m away.” Sara added excitedly, “Won’t that be fun?”

So some new sorcerer will see how terrible I am at magic? Great. Talula chewed her lip. “When do they get here? Do you know who it is?”

“The Council is still figuring that out, but they’ll be here in the next few days. They should be pretty low-maintenance, and the house can help out in a pinch.” Sara fondly petted a nearby wall. “Won’t you, dear?”

The house hummed in response. Talula couldn’t help but smile. The house loved guests (except for the basilisks—nobody had liked the basilisks).

“Then it’s settled.” Sara conjured a twist of air to sweep away cookie crumbs from her clothes. “I’ll take down those horrible hunters, and by the time I come back, you’ll have mastered the Volta and made a new friend!”

“Sounds good.” Talula tried to sound enthusiastic.

“Good night, my heart!” Sara kissed both of Talula’s cheeks, then swept out of the kitchen. Talula cleaned up, trying not to think about the trophy hunters. Or her new magical teacher. Instead, her thoughts landed on the freckles she’d noticed on Dahlia’s cheeks, the heat of her body against hers—

Dahlia.

Talula stopped mid-scrub. How was she going to hide Dahlia’s consistent presence from the Council member?

“Hi, I want more cookies,” Talula’s mom said, suddenly right behind her.

“Ah! Shit!” Talula jumped, heart leaping in her chest. “Sorry! Go ahead, there’s plenty left.”

“Excellent.” Sara piled half of the remaining cookies on a plate as Talula refilled her mother’s milk glass.

“Thank you, my love!” Sara mumbled, a cookie already in her mouth, before gliding away.

A few minutes later, after the dishes were washed and the Talula Zone counter space had been wiped down, Talula heard a happy shout, amplified by the magical house.

“These cookies are so good!”

Talula went to bed, deciding to take the little victories she could and worry about the rest later.