Page 33 of Curses & Cold Brew
I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. The blind rage filling my vision was only meant to be seen by the person who truly deserved it.
Esme.
After all this time, I couldn’t believe she’d come back.
17
IRIS
How dare she get mad at me for giving her a lead! If I hadn’t summoned Maude, if I hadn’t pushed Avery for answers, if I hadn’t injected myself where I didn’t belong, Ramona would’ve been royally fucked. She should’ve been kissing my ass instead of ordering me around like I was a foolhardy witchling. One day she’d realize how valuable I was and then she’d be sorry.Yeah, Iris, that’ll be the day.
I stood outside the knit shop, fuming, both unwilling to storm after Ramona and unwilling to go home after being ordered to return there by the storm cloud that called herself a demon. Agnes and the vampires didn’t know where Esme was, but someone else might. There was still more to be done, more that I could’ve helped with if Ramona had cared to ask. I needed to find someone who knew when people moved in and out of town.
I took out my phone and called Jordyn.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey! How did it go in the knitting circle? Did theyactuallyknit or just talk about bloodsucking?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I cut in. “I’m headed to Midnight Market. Will you be at the apartment later? I’ll catch you up then.” I’d already started walking, weaving through the crowds that drifted in waves through the town square.
“Sounds good,” Jordyn replied. “I’m finishing up inventory, then helping Harlow close up the café. But after that, we’ll be here.” The sounds of clanking glasses in the background stopped, and the chime of the bell above the door rang. The sound muffled as I suspected Jordyn held her phone against her sweater before calling out, “Welcome to the Poison Apple Apothecary! I’ll be with you in a moment.” More muffling, then she said in a low voice, “Call me if you need backup, okay?”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye.”
A large warehouse of a building, Midnight Market was a one-stop shop for tourists, housing everything from spooky gift shops to local artisanal foods. The ice cream kiosk was the first stall inside, and that was where I knew I’d find our mayor—and hopefully another lead on my ill-advised case.
As I got closer, I could see families filtering in and out of the market area. The flower shop must have been having a sale because many tourists were leaving with large bouquets of sunflowers, strawflowers, and bright orange roses nested in sprigs of colorful leaves, all tied with big gingham bows as if they were all winners at the county fair.
Smiling children with purple-and-black swirl cotton candy as big as their heads followed their parents from the market and into the town square, where some locals were setting up booths for the night’s bonfire. Rudy was already setting up the cider stand as Randy warmed the barrels. The police chief, Dougall, was moonlighting at the s’mores stand, sharpening sticks with his whittling knife. Eloise waved to me as she strung up twinkling lights around the witch-hat gazebo while Agnesrushed across the lawn, carrying a wicker basket filled with woolen scarves that I assumed she’d knitted herself. The town was in full swing. And despite most citizens being curmudgeonly magical creatures, I knew they secretly loved this time of year. They couldn’t quite contain their enthusiasm as they all pitched in.
I sighed, breathing in the scent of wood fire and the slight chill in the air before heading indoors. Inside, Midnight Market was bustling. Customers circulated at every vendor, and the main walkways separating the shops were packed with meandering window shoppers. I squeezed through the crowd and slipped into the ice cream shop, ready to interrogate Billy, only to find a new face manning the line.
“Welcome to Midnight Market,” said the tall green monster in a black paper hat as he handed an orange plastic spoon with chocolate ice cream to the woman at the front of the line. “Here is your sample, ma’am.”
His thick stitched arm stretched over the glass top of the ice cream fridge and placed it into the woman’s waiting fingers. She quickly stuck it in her mouth and giggled.
This—I assumed—was Billy’s nephew, Dean. I could see now why Citrine had blushed a deep shade of crimson when she’d spoken of him. He was a Calvin Klein version of Frankenstein’s monster: ripped, chiseled, and handsome. Albeit green.
Even the human customers seemed enamored with him.
Each person ahead of me in line tried sample after sample, but the monster only smiled and obliged.
“Here’s my number,” one woman said, sliding a scrap of paper across the ice cream freezer glass. “If you want to catch up after you take that stage makeup off tonight.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. She was bold. I’d give her that. Little did she know that the “stage makeup” she was referring to was his actual skin.
But Dean was a natural and simply said, “Unfortunately, I have a girlfriend.” He took the paper and dropped it in the trash can beside him. “But how about a scoop of ourHocus PocusPistachio on the house?”
She tittered something unintelligible and nodded.
Damn, Dean.He was going to give Randy a run for his money as the town’s boy-toy.
When I finally reached the front of the long line, he gave me a bright smile. “What can I get for you today?”
“I was actually looking for Billy. Is he around?”
“He’s on break but should be back any minute, sorry.” He looked genuinely apologetic. I was about as straight as a corkscrew and he had me blushing. What kind of magic did this monster weave? “Care for a sample while you wait?”
