Page 45 of Witches and Wine
“Alrighty. I got in touch with Aurora.”
I wanted to think I was good with names—no scratch that, great with names. So why hadn’t I recognized this one?
“Who?”
A laughing green child with tusks sticking out from the bottom of his mouth, pressing over his top lip, sprinted past me with a chicken raised above his head.
“The bar owner. The Crimson Crypt?”
A bigger green being with tusks doubling the size of the child’s and dark green, wavy hair hanging down to their hips chased the child, pointing a clawed finger and growling. “For the tenth time, the chickens stay in their coop, Benny,” the being yelled with a feminine voice.
“The bar. Got it. Did she have good news?” I bit back a smile, watching the child and who I assumed was his mother. The child let go of the chicken, and they started chasing it around townspeople.
“Great news. She’s not only interested butsointerested that she wants me there every week. I’d say I told you so, but?—”
Laughing, I walked further into town, stopping by the fountain in the plaza area. A bronze mermaid sat on a rock with her tail hanging off the side, pouring a vase of water that served as the fountain spout into the circular pool. “You can say it. I’ve got thick skin.”
“Well, not when you take all the fun right out of it.” I could tell Apollo smiled while saying that from the upward lilt in his voice.
“Send me her contact information, and I’ll get in touch tomorrow to see about setting things up. Sound good?” I sat on one of four marble benches surrounding the fountain, coaxing Riley to curl up in my lap.
“Perfect. I just texted it to you. Have a good one, boss.”
“I’m not your boss, Apollo,” I said, chuckling.
“You are. You’ll see,” he countered and hung up.
With a deep sigh, I slid the phone into my purse and people-watched. It was a wonder I hadn’t noticed the eclectic populationof Arcane Cove when I’d first arrived. In only a matter of minutes, I witnessed demons, orcs, and several types of winged beings I couldn’t identify walking through the plaza. Despite the sun brightening the sky, the moon was still blatantly visible but faded—a crescent moon.
I’m a moon witch.
It unnerved me that the High Priestess chose to drop that particular bomb without further elaboration. Did she expect me to figure it out on my own? Was that how witches were supposed to navigate their magic?
I stomped my foot and secured Riley from toppling off my lap. He popped his head up and blinked at me, his tiny paws kneading my thighs.
I’d half expected the townspeople to notice me more than they did. Did they all know what I was? Did they know before I did?
I cared for Dion. I wanted Dion. I wanted this place and all its magic and luster. I wanted to learn how to use my magic and be the moon witch I was fated to be. None of that could come true, however, if I couldn’t figure out how to control it, to use it, to manifest it fully.
If only my mom were here.
“Tambie,when I said I needed a distraction, this wasn’t what I had in mind,” I mumbled, staring at the plate piled high with meat pies and four mugs of steaming coffee she had yet to touch.
Tambie tapped a petite claw against one mug’s rim but still didn’t drink it. “If you wanted something specific, you should’ve asked, D. Besides, who doesn’t get distracted by food and caffeine?” She graced me with a singular glance. Otherwise, her attention focused behind me.
Scowling at my long-time friend, I turned in my seat, narrowing my eyes at Dagnar, the orc owner and chef ofThe Minty Boar. He flipped a towel over his shoulder before shaking hands with a customer who purchased one of his famous meat pies. Throwing Tambie an exasperated glare, I pointed at her. “You have the hots for Dagnar. That’s the only reason we’re here.”
Tambie gasped and gripped the table’s sides. “Will you keep your voice down?”
“Since when were youshy?” I snagged one of the plates because there wasn’t a reason forallof this to go to waste.
“I’m not shy. I’m incredibly nervous to talk to him.” Tambie scratched one of her antlers, her gaze damn near twinkling every time she caught a glance of the tall, staunch orc.
Scooping some of the pie into my mouth with an iron fork, I continued to chew while I talked and used the utensil to reference the overabundance of coffee. “Is that why you keep ordering coffees you have no intention of drinking? As an excuse to get a whiff of him?”
“A whiff?” Tambie rolled her eyes and folded her arms in a huff, slouching in the wooden chair. “Not all of us have a beast mode.”
Shrugging, I combed a hand through my beard, ridding it of flaky crust crumbles. “No, but you do have a working nose, don’t you?”
