The door creaks open with a chime of a bell and the dry hot air of the fire smothers her. Walter and Rye have to duck through the door and they crowd in the entryway between the backs of two cracked leather sofas. An open fire crackles to the left and opposite them the counter is laden with glass domes, underneath each one is a different tooth rotting treat and a chalkboard with swirling writing lists all their drinks. Nowhere else, but the city, had twelve different types of hot chocolate.
Tessa inhales the smell of hot chocolate, dried lavender and old wood. It's intoxicating. Rye smells like this place. Or maybe this place smells like Rye; with his musty pine wood smell present in every breath she takes.
She glances at him, his scent and the room's align like the stars, like this is the place he is supposed to be. Which she guesses he is, nevertheless his hunkered frame seems unnatural in the cafe after a childhood sat drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire without knowing his existence. It's strange. He fits so perfectly into the cafe, it makes him stand out like a sore thumb.
Running his fingers over the wood, Rye steps behind the counter plucking an apron off a hook and wrapping it around his waist. The glow of the fire turns his hair into strands of cinnamon which Tessa's fingers itch to run through for an unknown reason.
"Oh good," Otto exhales a long breath, shaking his head. "Thought I was turning into Keri for a second."
"What are you talking about this time?" Asked Walter.
"I could have sworn your eyes had turned this strange yellowy colour when Rye almost dropped you in the drink Tessa," Otto continued. Her spine locks and she snaps her gaze to Rye, who is frozen while uncapping the milk. Three heart rates accelerate like Formula One cars. "It must have been the lighting. Jeez it's not hard to tell when I've had too much coffee for one day, I better have a hot chocolate to balance it out."
Tessa is so stupid. Why couldn't she control the wolf? Why was she such a failure to her pack? Why can't she be like the rest of her pack? Her chest is tight, each breath is like swallowing saw dust.
"Ha! That's funny mate." Walter claps Otto's shoulder, but she can hear the hitch in his breath. Feel his eyes on the side of her head, the utter disappointment in her for once again almost letting the secret out. He will tell mum tonight and then the entire pack can be disappointed in her once again.
Nothing unusual there though.
"Hello?" It's odd, but Mrs Clare's voice has always sounded like a christmas pudding. It's a welcome distraction right now as all their gazes snap to the sagging stairs. "I'm coming down, won't be a minute then I'll serve you."
"It's alright auntie," Rye calls out, snapped out of his stupor he grabs the grater and starts attacking the block of chocolate. "I'm serving them."
Uneven footsteps thud down the stairs, and Mrs Clare appears in the doorway behind the counter her nasty old jack russell called Butter's leaving her ankle to snap at Rye. Tessa didn't know where the rest of Mrs Clare's jack russells were, probably attacking some poor innocent person, nevertheless one was bad enough.
Maybe Mrs Clare sounded like a christmas pudding, because she rather resembled one. Her mottled hair is streaked with grey at the roots where it's grown between dye jobs, her ivy green blouse tight across her plump tummy, and berry red skirt marred with icing sugar.
"Butter's leave me alone." Rye's nose crinkles and Tessa can tell he is trying to keep the wolf out of his voice. Despite the weight still sitting on her chest, it makes her smile, the thought of this tiny jack russell going head to head with the lone wolf. Sorry. Wolf on pack probation is a more accurate term. Scooping the snapping beast up he rounds the counter and deposits it in Tessa's arms. Great.
Butters snapped his teeth at her, and Tessa winced, his breath smelt of rotten fish. This is the real monster of Layman's Way, thinks Tessa.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Give his ear a good scratch," Mrs Clare supplied while swatting at Rye with her walking cane, "Butters has not been himself since this oath came to live with me. Alas, the family would not look at me kindly if I didn't take the oath in, just because my little Butters here wanted to chew his face."
"Thanks Auntie." Rye rolled his eyes. He didn't seem bothered by the harsh words the way Tessa was, the way it made her throat tight at the thought of someone speaking to him that way. Either he didn't care or was so used to people speaking to him like he was a Christmas present no one wanted that he didn't have the energy to react anymore. Tessa frowned.
"Here Otto, you're good with dogs." Tessa thrust the squirming terror at Otto, where Butters promptly sank his needle teeth into Otto's necklace.
"Walt, help!"
"Auntie can't we put Butters either outside or upstairs for a bit. You won't have any customers left if he eats them all."
"Nonsense, this cafe has always had a jack russell in and it will always have one in. Your great grandfather used to say they had a sense for all the bad things in Layman's Way."
"Like what?" Otto rounded the counter depositing Butters at Mrs Clare's feet, where he promptly shot back over to Rye to snap at him again.
The bell chimed, door screeched, and fire bellowed with the gust of wind which accompanied the door opening. Waterproof jacket dangling over her fingertips and glasses wonky, Keri stumbled through the door flushed faced and panting.
"Why don't you ask her," Mrs Clare stood straight, shuffling in her slippers across the stone floor to an armchair in the corner where she kept her knitting. "She's the resident expert on all things that go bump in the night."
Rye passed them their drinks, everyone got hot chocolate except for Walter. He liked his coffee black.
"Guys," She heaved in a breath, "You will never guess what I saw on my way over here."