Page 66 of Haunt Me, Maybe

“Aven,” I called. “Don’t force it.” She exhaled sharply, and that frustration spiked. “You’re trying to erase it,” I said. “Don’t. Convince the room it was never important to begin with.”

Her brow furrowed as she tried again.

This time, the table didn’t blur; it became unremarkable. Still there, still solid, yet somehow forgettable. My gaze slid right past it unless I focused deliberately, like my brain decided it was irrelevant.

Briony blinked. “Where did my table go?”

Aven grimaced. “I guess it kind of worked.”

No, it had. It was the perfect first step to making it disappear completely. It wasn’t her fault Briony and the café were freakishly linked.

I shook my head. “Briony is as attached to this café as if she were one of its walls. The fact that she can’t see the table is a win. It worked.”

Aven’s smile was small, but real. “Want me to do another one?”

She made the table appear and disappear a handful of times, until it fully vanished from sight; no longer just a trick of the mind. Then she moved on to larger objects, even concealing multiple at once. By the time the clock tower rang the afternoon bell, sweat was beading on her forehead, and she had a flush to her cheeks.

“I think even Fenn will be impressed with your concealment skills…once he stops lecturing you about practicing without him, that is.”

She winced but couldn’t hide her pride. “Defensive illusions aren’t that bad.” She hesitated. “My magic can be offensive, too. But those spells are louder. They need more space. And more coverage.”

The café hummed faintly, a sound like disapproval. I was right there with it. Anything stronger than we did today needed Fenn and a bigger magical cloak.

“And we’ll try those,” I agreed. “Just not here.”

I worried about when that time came, though. I had a feeling no amount of shielding, absorbing, or covering her magic would be enough once she reached her full strength. There was a battle coming, and we still weren’t prepared.

Briony tilted her head, watching Aven with a new curiosity. “You know,” she said slowly. “When you do that, it feels…familiar.”

Aven and I glanced at one another, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. We both thought it. Dormant magic. The fact that Briony could feel the use of magic around her meant she had her own. That had to be a task for another day. Two witches training at the same time would be a larger flare than we could afford.

“It’s probably nothing,” Briony added, waving it off with an awkward grin. “Magic-adjacent caffeine fumes.”

But the café creaked again, thoughtful. I really hoped we dealt with Gideon before Briony figured her shit out. There was a chance she could be another target, despite not being of Aven’s line. A new witch floundering through magic with no protection? The perfect victim for a monster like him.

Done with practice for the day, the missing furniture returned. The golden leaves slowly faded, and the café relaxed, satisfied that all was put to rights. Even the cold outside felt a little less sharp.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Aven

Briony flipped the sign to CLOSED, her breath fogging faintly in the sudden quiet as the door gave a tired little jingle. Outside, the square was already dipped in indigo, the last wash of the autumn sunset bleeding out behind the clock tower on the other side of the square. I wiped down the counter one more time, even though it didn’t need it.

“You’re stalling,” Briony said lightly, arms crossed as she leaned against a table.

“I am not.”

“You are,” she huffed. “Your left eye twitches when you lie.”

“My left eye does not⁠—”

“It does.”

Fenn chuckled from where he gorged on the last of the muffins in the pastry case.

She’s not wrong.

I spun and gave him the stink eye. Wes, at least, wisely stayed quiet.