Page 78 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Dahlia. Talula felt a rush of warmth. She called out, “I’ll get that cocoa going for you in just a sec.”

A familiar soprano sang back, “I’m not here for cocoa.”

Talula whipped around. Kristen stood in the doorway, sneering prettily. She held a clipboard in her hand like an executioner’s axe. Talula gritted her teeth. “What do you want?”

Kristen slid the clipboard onto the counter. “I have a petition for you to sign.”

“Bullshit.” Talula was tired of Kristen’s bullying, tired of holding her tongue. “I’m obviously not signing any petition. So you’re just here to be horrible to me. Probably because it helps you forget just how much you used to really, really like me.”

Kristen stared at her as if Talula had burst into magical flame. Then, the ice queen mask settled back into place. “Not so much.”

Kristen tapped a pink nail firmly on the paper attached to the clipboard. Talula glanced at it. Her mouth fell open. “You’re trying to shut down the Blue Moon?”

“It’s the next logical step.” She flicked a golden tress behind her shoulder. “We have so many people on board to ban your perverted Halloween fest, it makes sense to finish the job.”

Talula’s stomach twisted with fear and anger. She stared at the clipboard, at the dozen names scrawled on the petition lines. Her brain fumbled for words, but no clever, cutting retort appeared.

Kristen smirked, her eyes as triumphant as the night she was crowned homecoming queen. She turned to go with a smug hair toss. “See you at the town hall.”

When she was gone, Talula slumped onto a barstool. She knew that Kristen couldn’t shut down the café. Legally speaking, this petition was laughable. It wasn’t up to town opinion which businesses set up shop within its borders. But Kristen was showing Talula that no matter what, there would be people who looked at the café with contempt. And she’d be there, coaxing those contemptuous embers into disgust and intolerance.

The Blue Moon was a hub for supernatural humanitarian efforts. It shielded the Volta from the normal world. With so much negative attention…

“Simon, what if they keep trying to mess with the café?” Talula asked, hardly able to hear herself over the pounding of her heart.

“Being the object of so much ire is not ideal for our operations. As you said, your mother can’t magick every nitwit in town—it’d be unsustainable for a whole host of reasons. Flying under the radar is paramount,” Simon said, pondering. “But we can’t exactly pack up the Volta and ship it to a more convenient location. It’s rooted here. Most likely the Council would use its influence to make it look like someone else has bought the place. They’d have to start a new cover business.”

“Mom and I wouldn’t be able to stay, would we?” Talula ran her fingers nervously through her hair. “It’d look too suspicious, right?”

“Your mother would most likely be reassigned to another magical safehouse or checkpoint. But as for you, well…you’re not, er…” Simon looked down at his paws guiltily. “You’re not an asset.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean, you’re not an asset to the Council,” Simon clarified with a wince. “Your presence helps maintain the café’s cover. But if the Blue Moon is no more…”

“Then I’m useless.” Shame, anger, and fear filled her lungs, making it hard to breathe. “What about our house? Couldn’t I just live here, have my own life outside of Council stuff?”

Simon wouldn’t make eye contact. “The house technically belongs to the Council.”

“I’d have to leave.” Talula would be kicked out of her magical home that changed color with her moods, made secret passages when she was lonely, and hummed when she lit candles on rainy days. Dread welled in her chest.

“I don’t know what they’ll do with you, Talula. They may let you follow your mother, but she could be needed somewhere dangerous.” Simon sat on his rump with a sigh. “There aren’t many places in our network that require a barista who has not quite mastered her sorcery. The Blue Moon is one of a kind.”

Talula looked around at the shelves of crystals, the tarot cards, the espresso machine, the couch, and the scuffed coffee table. With all her heart, she replied, “It really is.”

Simon pawed at Talula’s shin. “Did you really have relations with that heinous doxy?”

“In high school.” Talula shrugged. “I didn’t know she was a heinous doxy back then.”

“That’s what makes them so heinous.” Simon nodded sagely. “But you handled her with poise. I should have bitten her.”

“Poise isn’t going to save the Blue Moon.” Talula stared out the window. The graying October sky loomed bleakly at her.

“Alright, fine.” Simon let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s do your and Dahlia’s absurd plan.”

Talula felt her jaw drop. “Why? Because Kristen was a heinous doxy?”

“Because of what I said, actually.” Simon got up on his hind legs, bracing his paws against Talula’s knees so he could give her an earnest look. “You’re an asset here, Talula. So is Dahlia. Your mother’s magic is one thing, but it’s not a permanent solution. The Blue Moon needs the community’s support to get those nefarious cowards to scuttle back into the sewage from whence they came.”