Page 26 of Curses & Cold Brew
Harlow made a choking sound right as the front door’s lock magically flipped and Jordyn walked in.
“Hey, it’s my two favorite people!” she called. She wandered over, slid into the booth beside Harlow, then planted a kiss on her girlfriend’s lips. “You ready for our date?”
I did my very best to keep my smile warm and neutral, even as my mood soured.
“Change of plans,” Harlow said, kissing Jordyn on the temple. “We’re going to be helping Iris tonight with”—she waved her hand over my stack of books—“whatever this is.”
“Sweet,” Jordyn said. “I haven’t had a good Iris info dump in ages. What are we researching?”
I blinked.Simple as that?I suddenly realized how easy it would’ve been to ask them to hang out, to invite them to spend more time with me. I’d been just as guilty of pulling away as they were. It was a much-needed course correction in my brain: My friendswantedto spend time with me. All I needed to do was ask.
“So what exactly is this?” Jordyn asked, picking up a tome of summoning rituals. “Oh goddess, you’re not thinking of summoning a hexed spirit, are you?”
“It turned out so well last time,” Harlow snarked.
“Hey, I am not the one with a history of botched summonings,” I said pointedly, and Jordyn laughed. “Besides, this is different.”
“Oh boy, this should be interesting.” Jordyn started stacking up the books. “Okay, no summoning spells in the café. Let’s head back to the Poison Apple.” She gave me a look. “I want you to know that I do not condone this.”
“But you’re going to help me anyway, aren’t you?” I taunted.
She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yep, let’s go. Harlow, grab the leftover pastries from the cake case. It’s going to be a long night.”
14
RAMONA
Normally, the smell of death in the air brought me nothing but joy, but when I felt Lyra’s soul separate from her body, it brought me nothing but dread. Three deals coming to fruition in one week wasn’t just unusual, it was too suspicious to be a coincidence. Everything I once felt with assurance now wavered. Would my sigil still be on her skin? Would I be faced with yet another failure?
Over a week had passed since the first soul has been taken from me. Trying to find the soul thief was leading me to fruitless dead ends and in infuriating circles. The last three days in particular had been insufferably long . . . and I was determinednotto think about if the absence of a certain witch had made them feel even longer.
I was halfway across the graveyard when a flashlight beam hit me straight in the eyes. I lifted a hand with a snarl as an echoing voice called, “Stop knocking boots in my graveyard, Dean. People live here, you know.”
“I’m not knocking anyone’s boots here, Randy,” I called back. “The last thing I need is some supernatural STI. I’ve got business to attend to.”
“Ah, Ramona,” the monster called back.
He lowered his flashlight, revealing he was perched on a stool opposite his cousin, Rudy, a half-finished game of cards between them. An old wooden sign propped up on an apple barrel served as their makeshift table. Several empty beer bottles were scattered around the tall grass. The mausoleum that Randy had moved into was wide open behind them. With my eyes adjusting to the light, I could make out his plush cot where the previous resident’s coffin had sat.
Nothing like two pumpkin monsters having a card game in the middle of a graveyard . . .
Yep, of all the towns I’d ever lived in, Maple Hollow was officially the strangest.
“Evening, Rudy,” I called to the town medical examiner. He was one of the chattiest busybodies around. He even gave Agnes a run for her money.
Rudy saluted two long fingers off the brow of his orange head. “How’s it shaking, troublemaker? Hell keeping you busy?”
I rolled my eyes. Rudy was the epitome of dad energy.
“It’s a nice night for a walk,” I replied, straightening my spine and slipping my hands into my pockets. “I have business with the recently departed Lyra.”
“Lyra died?” Randy’s voice pitched in his surprise. “And here I was certain she would make it to nine hundred.”
“Folks are dropping like fireflies these days,” Rudy interjected. “Hope we don’t have another you-know-what on our hands. That was a lot of messy paperwork trying to fudge those details.”
“Hell forbid you have to do your job,” I mumbled to myself. What was the earshot like on pumpkin heads, anyway?
“You had a deal with ol’ Lyra then, eh, Ramona?” Randy stood and dusted his hands on his jeans. “She was quite the looker.”
