Page 30 of Curses & Cold Brew
“Who? Who was the chatty woman?” I perked up, squeezing Jordyn and Harlow’s hands tighter so Maude wouldn’t slip away.
“She had big hair, wavy brown. Blue eyes and a fiery personality. But I didn’t recognize her.”
“Is there anything else about her that you can tell us?” Jordyn asked. “Did she say a name or where she lives?”
Maude floated closer to the ceiling. “I don’t know any of that. But she talked like Ramona. Cocky. And a bit uppity. The immortals always are.”
“Immortal with long teeth?” Harlow whispered toward me. “Does she mean the vampires? Could it be a vamp?”
“Maybe?”
We all watched Maude continue to turn about as she started singing a haunting tune to herself.
Ichabod jumped onto the couch and mewed at Maude, who wiggled a loose thread from her shawl. He happily batted at it.
“Wouldn’t she know if it was one of the local vampires? She and Agnes manned the welcome booth together for years,” Jordyn reminded me. “Ask her where she is. Who holds the strings to her soul now that she’s been cut loose from Ramona?”
“Could you—” I made to ask another question when the cat leaped through Maude’s body, landed on the edge of the circle, and went sliding across the floor through the line of salt.
In an instant, Maude’s ghost was gone and the candles all went out, casting us into darkness.
Harlow bolted to the nearest lamp. “Is she gone? Should we try to call her back?” Her eyes searched the room, but Jordyn was already lighting the cleansing herbs.
“It’s better that we don’t,” Jordyn said, trailing smoke around the living room. “Calling her back that quickly might get her stuck in between.”
“She’s right. But I think I know how to figure out which vampire it was,” I said, fetching the broom to start cleaning up the salt before Ichabod could make a bigger mess.
“How?” Harlow asked, settling on the couch to contain the wild beast that had broken our circle.
All three of them looked at me as I smiled. “I’m going to need yarn.”
16
RAMONA
Iwandered into Black Cat Knit Shop a little after noon, a tune on my lips. I was still feeling at ease after the collection of the succubus’s soul a few nights prior. I’d been holed up in my house, attempting to detox my senses of a certain witch. I told myself that it had worked, but that was before I’d stepped onto the streets of Maple Hollow again. Now, I kept hallucinating a flash of red hair in my periphery . . . which, of course, I kept telling myself didn’t mean anything.
With my worries finally few, I strolled through the rows of yarn and toward the gathering at the back of the shop.
“Ramona!” Agnes called from the knitting circle of vampires. “I was wondering when we’d see you back at knitting club.”
It felt silly, but having the distraction of old acquaintances and local gossip felt like a much-needed comfort after everything that had happened. Especially when I was dangerously deficient in caffeine since I was avoiding the café. And Midnight Market, the bakery, and the bookshop. All places I knew she frequented . . . or so I presumed.
I waved to Agnes and pulled my needles and yarn out of the only tote bag I owned. It was bloodred with my sigil emblazonedin gold on the front—my first embroidery project. No one could mistake it for theirs, so I wouldn’t have to threaten anyone if my very rare and hard-to-source vicuña wool went missing. It was softer than cashmere and rarer than diamonds.
“You’re just in time. Loraine was about to tell us about the run-in she had with an ogre a few weeks ago.” Agnes chortled. “And we’ve got a newcomer to the group this week too.”
The vampire pointed the blunt ends of her onyx needles across the circle right as Edith shifted back in her seat, revealing none other than Iris, who sat gnashing her knitting needles together, unaware of how badly she was mangling whatever mustard monstrosity she was attempting to make.
“Lucifer, fucking save me,” I muttered.
“I didn’t know you were a part of the knitting club,” she said when I sat in the only available chair.
Which happened to be next to hers.
I curled my lip back. “I have hobbies,” I muttered back, taking out my current project, which at present was only a navy-blue sleeve.
“Like rescuing stray cats and volunteering with the elderly?” Iris whispered back. “You make fun of me for my sweater vests while you’re secretly part of a vampire knitting circle? Hello, pot. I’m kettle.”
