After Sierra is gone, I clean up the kitchen. I fight the temptation to do a spell, opting not to give someone the opportunity to walk in on me. It feels very Samantha Stephens.
The downside of not being able to go back to sleep rears its ugly head as a yawning fit exacerbates my drowsiness. I elect to venture into town and find their strongest coffee.
I choose a pair of dark jeans and a powder blue t-shirt with 90s Nickelodeon characters on it. My beige cardigan goes well with the outfit.
My phone finds the nearest coffee shop with the highest rating, a place called the Moonpetal Cafe. The drive past all the similarly built craftsmen houses in the neighborhood is nearly maddening. It is a far cry from my previous apartment.
Prophecy Cove is a few miles outside of Salem. The town itself is scenic and out of the way, but there is something strange about it. It's cooler than the city. I can't put my finger on what makes it so strange.
With all the magic permeating this place, I just hope I can get to the beach and meet a mermaid.
If they exist.
The Moonpetal Cafe is only five to ten minutes away from our house. The cafe is on Main Street, beside an antique shop. I park in the only spot available in front of the cafe.
I'm lucky, it seems.
The scent of lavender assaults me as I enter the cafe. The decor of the cafe is subdued, utilizing mostly Earth tones and darker shades of purple.
A piece of royal purple silk hangs over the counter, where a barista is assisting a moderately long line. The counter is made of a darker wood with glass partitions that show off a selection of delicious pastries and sandwiches.
The cafe uses a purposeful mismatch of furniture. It's filled with different styles and sizes of tables and chairs. Against the wall is a worn brown and green sofa. A small hallway just beyond the area leads to what I assume are the bathrooms.
On the other side of the room, a small glass enclosure leads to a patio, where green wrought-iron patio furniture is lazily aligned along the patio.
The dulcet sounds of a woman singing about her lovelorn past overpowers the bustle of customers.
I step forward into the line, craning my neck to see the menu above the counter better. The white mocha caramel ombre sounds like the best choice.
The door behind me opens and closes, causing the bells above the door to jingle loudly. The hair on the back of my neck stands on edge without reason. Instinctively, I reach to the back of my neck and cover my hair. My hands feel hot, as if something is covering them.
The feeling only intensifies as the line begins to move. A faint static accompanies the feeling. I focus on my order, repeating it in my mind over and over. The wait isn't too long.
I order the largest size they have before moving to the side.
I bump into something burning hot and stern. It could have been a pipe for all I knew. To my surprise, it is a man.
The man is generating an ungodly amount of heat from his tall, bulky frame. He has a days-old scruff that makes him look rugged. Surprisingly, I can still see his chiseled jawline through the beard. His hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, the same jet-black color as his scruff.
His flannel button-up barely fits his muscular frame.
"Oh my God! You're really hot!"
I stammer out the words before I can catch them. The man stares at me, perplexed as I clear my throat to correct myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Rede Breaker
FantasyParker Royce is sent to Prophecy Cove to investigate the sudden disappearances of many residents within the town. Parker finds himself at the center of a years-long bid by a demon to escape his demonic prison. But Parker didn't come alone. His best...
