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

“There’s plenty for everyone, including Simon.”

“Who?” Dahlia spotted the scowling dog and laughed. “Simon! It’s perfect! Right, Simon?”

Simon did not seem to think her question should be dignified by a response.

“Food’s almost ready. I’ll be right back.” Talula pretended to address Simon, but her message was for the jinn. “Please behave, or I will revoke your snack privileges.”

“Go on.” Kiki flicked their fingers playfully at Talula. “Dahlia and I will have some tea and a chat.”

Nervously, Talula tightened her apron and headed to the back. Sara’s jinn stories made Talula anxious. After all, ageless magical beings with limitless power tended to have a warped sense of humor (Sara, for example, could not get enough of knock-knock jokes). Talula discreetly stuck a footstool in the doorway to eavesdrop as she put the finishing touches on the snacks.

“Miss Dahlia, named for a flower with the beauty to match,” Kiki said. “What is a bloom like you doing in a shrubby town like this?”

Talula felt a pang of envy at Kiki’s masterful flirtation. There was no denying that the jinn had eons’ worth of charisma.

Dahlia’s voice was matter-of-fact. “I had a big quarter-life crisis after my dad died so I quit my job, moved into his house, and started writing because I’m trying to do what I want and not what I have to do. Talula makes me cocoa.”

Kiki’s sudden roar of laughter made Talula nearly drop the plate in her hands. “I take it back. You’re no flower. You’re a symphony!”

“Thank you! And what brings you to Pine Hollow?”

“I need a change. A new chapter.” Kiki’s voice was casual, breezy. But Talula knew better. She remembered the haunted look in the jinn’s eyes.

“I get it. That’s why I moved here,” Dahlia said. “I wanted to feel closer to my dad and all the things he’d been trying to teach me. What do you want your new chapter to look like?”

Curious, Talula paused in her snack preparations and leaned her ear toward the door.

Kiki answered uncertainly. “I don’t know.”

“You must have dreamed about what’s next,” Dahlia pressed.

Silence fell, growing tenser with every passing moment. Finally, Kiki spoke.

“You know, the only thing I dreamed about was getting away. Getting out. Out out out.” Kiki took a deep, audible inhale. “Do you know what it’s like to forget your freedom? To forget your heart and path is yours alone and need not bend to another’s will? I hope you don’t, darling Dahlia. I hope you never do. For it is the fastest way to smother your own fire and become shadow.”

A long minute passed. The only sound Talula heard was the quiet sniffs of the jinn.

“Hrmph,” Simon said sagely. Tension broken, Kiki and Dahlia chuckled.

Then, Dahlia said, “I know we just met, but I can already tell that you’re not smothered. If this is you smothered, you’d be formidable at full fire.”

“I was once,” Kiki commented fondly. “I could scorch out the eyes of foolhardy mortals who stared too long.”

“Metaphorically?”

“Sure.”

(At that, Talula gulped and hurried her food preparations.)

“I’ll bet!” Dahlia laughed. “But I don’t think that ever leaves you. Every time you prioritize yourself and your needs, you’re giving yourself power. You’re doing it now, just by being here and choosing to start again. That’s, like, radical self-love.”

“Radical self-love?” Kiki echoed thoughtfully. They said it again, with power: “Radical self-love!”

For a moment, the walls shook, and Talula could have sworn the lightbulbs flashed ecstatically.

“Whoa, looks like the café agrees with you,” Dahlia observed delightedly. “Or maybe the universe?”

“As it should.” Kiki’s voice was a mischievous spark seeking tinder. “For a long while, there wasn’t room for these questions. Of what I need, what I want, or even what I wish for.”