Page 34 of Witches and Wine
“Hm, I might.” Sylvie tapped her plump lips, her wings slowly fanning in and out. “May I ask the reason?”
“I’m going to talk to Cressida, the High Priestess?”
Sylvie’s violet eyes went wider, her wings fluttering quicker now. “Ah, so you’re a witch, are you?”
“Does no one else go to see the High Priestess except witches?” I blinked, genuinely befuddled.
Sylvie scrunched her nose against her upper lip and shook her head. “Not generally, no. Between you and me—” She paused to lean closer, going so far as to cup a hand over her mouth as if the Priestess would appear in a puff of smoke. “—she’s not the best company. Very serious, to the books, and a bit crass, if you ask me.”
Well, that certainly didn’t make it any easier.
“Thanks for the warning.”
Sylvie drummed her hands on the counter and stood straight. “So, you’re a witch. That’s exciting. Besides Cressida, I only know of three other women in town who are witches.”
“Really? We’re not common?”
Sylvie crouched to a lower shelf, pushing the sliding glass to one side and removing a fritter. “Not in the Cove, anyway. Butsomething must’vedrawnyou here.” Her faerie eyes flashed at me as she placed the treat on a plate and rested it in front of me.
My stomach twisted into a bout of pleasurable knots. Something or someone.
Laughing, I eyed the pastry like a treasure. “No kidding. I thought I was heading into Burlington, Vermont, to check out apartment complexes there and stumbled into this place.”
“I do love serendipity,” Sylvie replied, her shoulders and wings bristling. “Here. This won’t give you courage exactly, but it’ll loosen you up a bit. Think of it as a mild psychedelic or tinge of alcohol.”
Alcohol. Wine. Was there anything that wouldn’t make me think of him?
“Like ambrosia wine?” I grinned, my face heating as I lifted the plate to my nose, inhaling scents of butter, apple, and sugar.
Sylvie tilted her head almost inhumanly to one side, a charming smile curving her lips. “Not quite as potent.”
After only one bite, I could feel my shoulders relax, followed by my mind. It was as if a giant, smooth hand coasted over my skin, soothing as it passed.
“You’re very good with your magic,” I mumbled through half a fritter shoved in my mouth.
Sylvie shyly found her ear covered by her thick hair, rubbing the pointed tip of it. “You’ll find yours in time. I’m over a hundred years old. I’ve hada lotof practice.”
I choked on flaky bits, pressing the back of my hand over my mouth to cough it out of my throat.
Sylvie jumped, her wings going taut, and she rushed to the backroom, returning with a glass of water. “Here, here. I’m so sorry, I keep forgetting.”
Taking the cup with both hands, I took small sips until only faint tickles remained. “Don’t worry about it,” I croaked, clearingmy throat. “I’m sure the High Priestess is going to be a hell of a lot blunter than you and give far less of a shit about it.”
“You catch on quick.” The front door chimed, and Sylvie instantly made her wings disappear in a flurry of snowflakes and light blue sparkles. “Did you need anything else for right now, Chelsea?”
Sliding the plate, now only covered in fritter crumbs, I shook my head. “No, but thank you for the magical treat. Time to face the music.”
“Good luck,” Sylvie replied, winking.
The new patron was a tall, muscular man with fiery long hair and a matching beard. A golden hammer symbol with a Nordic knot design on a thick chain hung around his neck, and he grinned at me as he passed.
“Thor,” Sylvie greeted, her posture straightening. “What brings you to the Cove?”
I paused with my hand on the door handle at that, risking a glance over my shoulder at him. He was already looking at me and waved charmingly.
Dion had told me other gods beyond the Greeks existed, but I’d never met one. Arcane Cove only became that much more surreal with each passing day.
“Everything,” Thor replied, turning back to Sylvie and leaning on the counter. “But right now, I’ve come to cure a bit of a sweet tooth.”
