Page 15 of Curses & Cold Brew
“Hey!” Iris breezed over with the easy warmth of sunlight on a cold autumn day. “Ready to go to the crystal shop?”
“You’re going crystal shopping?” Agnes balked. “With Halloween Barbie over here?”
“Shut it, Aggie.”
When Agnes’s smile only widened, I was suddenly very aware of the fact that the vampire had wanted to see if I would come to Iris’s defense.
And I’d fallen for the bait.
“We have some business to take care of with the witch who owns the shop,” I said tightly.
“Soul-snatching business?” Agnes shot back.
“What do you know about that?”
“Naphula may have shared your frustrations with me,” she replied with a shrug. “But you’re barking up the wrong tree, I fear. No Maple Hollow witch would be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon. Though, we could use some new entertainment around here.”
“No?” I arched a brow as I turned to Iris. “No witch would be foolish enough to make a deal with me, eh, Iris?”
“Nope,” she rasped.
I patted my lips with my napkin, tossed it onto my plate, then rose to stand. “I’ll catch you around, Agnes.” I clapped her on the shoulder. “Steer clear of the nutmeg.”
“That was one time!” I heard Harlow mutter as she passed by with two porcelain mugs in hand.
I snickered, not waiting to hear Agnes’s farewell as I walked out the back door of the café and into the alley. I didn’t look to see if Iris followed, but judging from the clopping of her high-heeled boots, she was close behind.
“So I was thinking . . .,” Iris began. I rolled my eyes and hastened my gait. “Maybe you should stay outside while I talk to Citrine. She’s kind of shy and you’re?—”
“I’m what?” I whirled around faster than Iris could anticipate, and she collided with my chest.
She staggered back a step to catch herself, a scintillating shade of crimson coloring her cheeks. “Um, intimidating?”
“Good.”
Iris cleared her throat and moved around me, giving me a wide berth. “Just let me handle it,” she pushed. “Please?”
I shrugged. “Be my guest, Halloween Barbie.”
“Please don’t let that turn into my thing,” she grumbled as she took the lead.
I slowed my pace so she could storm off ahead of me . . . and I didn’t mind in the slightest that I got to watch the way her hips made that skirt swish.
Seven Hells.
9
IRIS
Ramona wrinkled her nose as we walked through the door of the crystal shop. “Why does it look like an acid trip in here?”
“It’s not that bad,” I murmured under my breath. I turned to take in the place, expression deflating. “Okay, maybe it’s a little on the psychedelic side.”
“A little? How doyouknow what an acid trip is like?”
I suddenly realized that I was several steps ahead of her because she’d paused just under the wind chimes at the entrance. Looking completely out of place amongst the glittering stones, smoke from the incense, and colorful tapestries hanging from the ceiling, Ramona grimaced at the interior.
Gripping her upper arm, I pulled her to me and escorted her to the front desk. “Tighten up your millennial grey trousers and get your head in the game, demon.”
