Page 20 of Haunt Me, Maybe

I deserve a reward for bravely cleaning up the trainwreck your control has become. Another scone vanished, and I reached in to throttle him before the entire stock fell victim to his appetite. I told you you needed to practice.

A squeal of delight saved me from answering, and I turned to see a small child staring up at us, his little hands clapping with gusto. I followed his line of sight to the pastry display, thinking the candied apples had his attention, but no. He stared directly at Fenn, with the same amount of joy as one had when seeing a puppy.

Of course. Of fucking course my illusion dropped again! Goddess, I was going to be fired. No one wanted to eat baked goods that sat this close to a live animal, no matter how excited the child. The corner of the mother’s eyes creased with her smile, and she slid an extra five across the counter; more than the amount needed for her regular order.

“Add a cinnamon roll for the frog, please.”

Another squeal of delight from her son, and Fenn added an appreciative ribbit. Mortification didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. My face was on fire. I covered my cheeks with my hands in the hopes of cooling them…or smothering myself, I hadn’t decided yet. The quiet conversations in the café rose to feverish levels, enough to draw Briony back out.

This was it. I was going to be fired on my second day. Dammit, Wes was going to be so happy.

“What’s this I hear about a new mascot?” Briony asked, wiping flour-covered hands on her apron. Not even fully out of the kitchen, and her gaze landed on Fenn, who was now at least sitting on top of the pastry case. Her brows flew to her hairline, and her mouth split on one of those full-bellied laughs I’d come to love. “Oh, he’s perfect. The entire elementary population will be here by dinner time to see him, mark my words.” With a warm smile, she knocked her shoulder into mine and tipped her chin. “I knew I was right to hire you.”

All that was just the early afternoon rush. There was a small break in customers after the two o’clock bell, and I ducked into the stacks as the tower in the square finished its chimes. Boxes of new arrivals needed to be stocked, space needed to be made for said new books, and then the cardboard they came in had to be broken down and taken out back.

All tasks that afforded privacy in the shadowed alcoves of the café, which I sorely needed. My magic was still misbehaving. Not as bad or as obvious, thank the Goddess, but it was taking all I had not to panic when it refused to listen. Just now, I handed a lady her mug, and the steam briefly curled into the shape of a crescent moon. A fucking moon!

I didn’t think she noticed, but…what if she had? I blew a steady breath out through my nose and reached down for a book.

—that flew into my hand.

Dammit!

The hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end, and the buzzing bulb above my head brightened in warning. A pocket of air grew cold behind me, and I knew without turning who would be standing there. He could not have picked a worse time to stalk me. Sparks danced around my fingertips, and the crisp air grew more chill by the second.

With a sigh, I turned and got a good look at a pissed-off Wes. Legs planted wide and nostrils flaring, his eyes were so cold the ring of gold now fell flat and dull. This was worse than this morning. Way worse.

“I knew you were trouble.” His hands tightened into fists as he took a step forward. “I should have known it was only a matter of time before you showed your true colors.” A swift glance at my hair, and then his glare was back on me.

You see, usually, I would agree with him. Casting in public was a horrible idea, especially when a witch didn’t mean to. But I refused to stand here and let him talk down to me about it, as if he had any idea what I was going through. I fully faced him now, back pressed against the closest bookcase.

“I’ve barely used any,” I reasoned, knowing my argument would be in vain.

A hand slammed onto the shelf above my head, and his face was suddenly inches away. My breath fogged between us, despite the very warm air now pressed against me. I wouldn’t call it body heat, per se…I wasn’t sure what it was, but it definitely radiated from him. Our chests rose and fell in sync, nearly brushing with how well we lined up.

“The ripples of your magic reached all the way to the other side of town and lured me right here. To you.” He leaned impossibly close, and I felt the faint brush of his breath on my cheek. A hazy graze of his lips on the shell of my ear. “Don’t tell me that was nothing.”

He felt my magic? My stomach clenched in terror. If…if he felt all that, then what about Gideon? It was possible Wes happened to be close enough, but…that didn’t quite make sense either. Fenn was beside me all day; he would have warned me if something got past him.

My breath caught halfway in and refused to move—much like the rest of me. Frozen, muscles locked, my world narrowed to only sound and pulse. The blood rushing in my ears drowned out the ding of the cash register and the café’s panicked vibration. It sensed my change in mood, but nothing could pull me out of this spiral. Nothing except the soft press of a thumb on the underside of my jaw.

Just that one finger. It urged my chin up, forcing me to lock eyes with the ghost towering over me. He scanned my face, his expression softer now but no less serious.

“Who are you running from?”

My eyes had to be as large as saucers—saucers that could now see clearly, and with extreme detail, the threads of gold in Wes’s gaze that not only surrounded his pupils but branched through his irises. He didn’t look away, and he didn’t drop his hand. Did he even realize he was touching me?

“Who?” he asked again. “Tell me, Trouble.”

I shook my head. Saying his name outside the safety of the attic’s wards was akin to shouting for him and holding a flare. “No one,” I whispered, firm, but my hands shook around the book I still held.

I dropped it back into the box as I ducked under Wes’s arm. The large window reflected the glare of streetlights, which meant my shift was over. Hanging my apron on the way out, I hardly said goodbye to Briony before running out the door and into the autumn night. The square was alive with energy and charm—a true assault on my senses with how I felt right now.

I hated it. Despair didn’t belong between warm lanterns and fall decorations. A heart fueled with dread couldn’t follow the beat of the live music coming from the gazebo.

Children ran around with caramel apples and leaf crowns, so carefree and unbothered, and my chest ached with longing. I wanted this life! I wanted to stop running and start living. I wanted a real home and real friends and the freedom to practice my magic without being hunted. I’d gotten a taste of that normalcy…and then was slapped in the face with reality.

There was nowhere safe for me, and I couldn’t build a life here, no matter how badly I wanted to. The sooner I remembered that, the easier it would be to leave when the time came.