Chapter Seventeen
Seventeen
This time Kass did take them downtown. Dani watched the glittering lights of the warehouses repurposed into clubs and breweries go by, glad it was a Thursday, and a rainy one at that.
There was a certain charm to downtown on a low-energy, bad-weather night, like a poem written by a lonely heart under black light.
“Are we going to a bar?” Dani asked.
“Not exactly,” Kass hedged.
“Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“I hope you won’t be saying that at the end of the night.”
“Me too.” At his look of terror, she added, “Just kidding, I’m having a great time. Promise.”
“Don’t do me like that,” Kass said. “I’m delicate!”
“Sure you are,” Dani said, but she did feel kind of guilty, and resolved not to induce that kind of reaction in him again.
Her antennae started to tingle as they turned onto Depot Street, home of the centuries-old train station.
It had shut down decades ago and been converted into a dozen different variations on a theme, the latest being a posh shopping center designed to draw in students and young professionals on the weekends.
Dani had never actually been there herself, but she had the sneaking suspicion she knew exactly where Kass was taking her.
They turned into the train-yard-turned-parking lot, blearily illuminated by wrought iron lamps with strings of Edison-style lightbulbs hung between them, and Dani peered around with interest. The station itself sat on their left, a hulking nineteenth-century building made of cream brick and curved glass ceilings, and the tracks extended out to their right, with moored train cars repainted in eye-catching red and teal and sunflower yellow.
A couple of them housed shops now, one a bookstore, another a brewery, though the outdoor patio was empty save for one person with a giant umbrella, smoking a cigarette.
Kass steered his car toward the station and scored a parking spot close to the entrance.
“Are we going where I think we’re going?” Dani asked as he turned off the engine.
Kass hesitated, the mysterious confidence he’d been exuding earlier evaporating. “On second thought, this is probably totally uncool,” he said, making as though to start the car again. “Let’s go somewhere else.”
“Wait, what?” Dani reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could turn the key. “That’s not what I—if you’re trying to take me to Summoning, please don’t stop now. I’ve been dying to go ever since they opened.”
Some of his doubt softened. “For real?”
“Uh, yeah,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I want to go to the cool, new, artisan, globally and ethically sourced, magical coffee place in town?”
“But you work at a coffee shop,” Kass said miserably. “I should have thought of something better.”
“Hecate’s bones,” Dani said. “I just told you I’ve been dying to go. I swear it on my life. I swear it on my hair.” She was trying not to laugh at this point; his own self-deprecation was quite lovable.
“And you’re not just saying that?”
“I promise.”
Kass took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, cool. Because there’s this event tonight, a pairing. Coffees from around the world matched with spells that work well with their flavor profiles.”
“What!” Dani exclaimed. “That sounds so neat. We’re not late, are we?”
Laughing with more ease, Kass checked his watch. “We’re ten minutes early,” he said. “Just how I like it.”
They hurried into the station, which was glistening with rain and the light of the rainbow neon letters that read Summoning Coffee above the door.
The coffeehouse—Dani couldn’t bring herself to call it a shop, or a café, because it was far grander, far vaster than her own—occupied the left half of the station, with the roof rising a hundred feet over their heads, its swirled glass flooded with the downpour.
The coffee counter was immediately to their right when they walked in, and Dani’s eyes grew wide at the sight of the gleaming, top-of-the-line espresso machines, far newer and fancier than anything she’d ever used.
The baristas were dressed in aprons made of canvas and leather, as if they were artisans prepared to work their craft.
They were artisans, Dani corrected herself, remembering how Kass had admonished her earlier.
All in all, the space had a retro vibe, scattered with overstuffed velvet armchairs, cable-knitted rugs, and lamps with patterned shades.
The event seemed to be taking place in the far corner across from the bar, where people were starting to find their seats at several long tables.
The baristas were already passing out flights of coffee.
“That’s us,” Kass said. His hand lighted politely on the middle of her back—not too low to be overly forward, but not too high for the cue to be mistaken.
Dani forced herself to act nonchalant as he guided her over.
The barista supervising the event asked for the name Kass had signed up with—Kass Gianakos—and they made their way to their assigned seats.
Dani’s excitement mounted as they were given their flights: wooden trays with three covered mini mugs of hot coffee and a shot glass of iced, along with four stoppered bottles that contained the swirling, glittering energy of premade spells.
She resisted the urge to read the cards that explained each coffee’s origins and the nature of the spell they’d chosen to pair with it, instead turning her attention to the head barista as he began his opening spiel.
It proved more difficult to follow along than she’d anticipated, though, because Kass apparently did not have the attention span for this, or at least preferred to spend the time distracting her with jokes and anecdotes he thought of whenever the barista mentioned basically anything.
She had to hush him when it came time for the actual tasting.
“Our first coffee is a single origin,” the barista was saying.
“A Colombian medium roast, more on the light side of the spectrum. This is a dessert coffee. Go ahead and uncover it and take a smell.” Dani obeyed with enthusiasm, cupping the tiny mug in both hands, and inhaled the steam rolling off the surface of the liquid. “First impressions on aroma?”
“Coffee,” Kass said under his breath.
“Brown sugar,” Dani said, loud enough for the barista to catch.
“Good,” he said. “Brown sugar and hazelnut are the main notes. Go ahead and taste it.”
Everyone around the table sipped and slurped and smacked their lips in concert.
“Any descriptions of the taste jump to mind?”
“Bitter,” Kass said to Dani.
“You’re every barista’s worst nightmare right now, you know that?” He made a sad puppy dog face, and she laughed. The event host announced the coffee was nippy and acidic.
“This might seem counterintuitive to anyone who practices coffee magic,” he said, and Dani perked up to listen, “but the spell we chose for this one is actually a sedative. Don’t worry,” he added as a murmur went around the table, “it’s not a sleep spell, and this sample shouldn’t make you drowsy, just calm.
You may open your first bottle whenever you’re ready.
We encourage you to sip your coffee once the spell has taken effect and see if it makes a difference.
It might not, which is perfectly normal. ”
Dani and Kass reached for their bottles, pausing to look at each other with their hands on the corks.
“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Kass asked.
“I’ll go first,” Dani said, and popped the cork.
The sparkling essence snaked out and wrapped around her neck several times before dissipating.
Almost immediately a film fell over her, softening the world around her and weighing her bones down in their sockets.
She giggled, but it felt like she giggled in slow motion.
“I definitely feel something,” she said.
Emboldened, Kass opened his, the crease in his forehead smoothing as the spell took hold. “That’s pretty chill,” he said, then giggled, too. “Okay, I’m trying the coffee.”
Dani wanted to try the coffee again, too, but it seemed like it took forever to even pick it up. The effects of the spell were already wearing off when the mug finally touched her lips. The coffee tasted exactly like it had before. “I don’t know if that worked the way it was supposed to,” she said.
“The coffee didn’t make a difference for me, either,” Kass said.
The barista was already moving on to the second mug, a dark Sumatran blend with notes of cherry and an accompanying spell for alertness, which Dani opened before they were even told, eager to counteract the effects of the last one.
Immediately her surroundings came into focus so sharply she thought their edges might cut her.
She glanced over at Kass, and everything about him seemed more intense—the contrast of his hair against his skin, his handsomeness.
“Hey,” she said. “This one’s not so bad.” She took a sip of her coffee and a burst of energy tingled her synapses, like a little wake-up call.
“I don’t feel anything,” he said, disheartened.
“You’re a mage,” she pointed out. “Maybe you have a higher tolerance?”
“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know.”
The next two spells were for creativity and clairvoyance. Dani hesitated at the last one, and Kass noticed.
“Are you afraid you’re going to see into everyone’s souls?” he asked.
“Um,” she said. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Go on, then. I don’t have anything to hide.”
It’s not you I’m worried about, Dani thought, but she opened the bottle anyway.
“Well?” Kass prompted.
“I don’t feel any different. What about you?”
“Nope,” he said. “I still really like you, Dani.” He held her gaze, as if daring her to second-guess him, but he didn’t know she didn’t need to.
“I really like you, Lukas Gianakos.”
“No fair,” he said with a grin. “I don’t know your full name.”
She opened her mouth to tell him when the barista raised his voice. “Since it’s almost ten, we’ll wrap up here, but are there any questions before we officially end?”
“Wait, what?” Dani said. “Is it really almost ten?”
Kass looked at his watch. “Two of, yeah. Oh. Shit. You have to be somewhere, don’t you?”
She was already gathering her things, trying not to seem like she was in too much of a rush. “It’s all good. They won’t kill me if I’m a little late.” She was just saying that to make him feel better, though—Katya might kill her.
“I’m sorry,” Kass said, grabbing her coat for her and accompanying her to the door. “This is my fault. Can I help? Can I take you somewhere?”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s really no problem, I can walk.”
“Please, Dani, it’s pouring rain. Let me drive you.”
“I’d really rather walk,” she said. She didn’t want him driving her and then wondering why the hell she’d leave their date to go to a bar, especially when she’d said it was for a class project—that was sure to ruin things for real this time.
She pushed through the coffeehouse door and onto the sidewalk. Kass threw up his invisible umbrella-bubble to shield both of them from the rain blowing sideways.
“Did I do something wrong?”
That stopped Dani in her tracks. She turned to face him, shaking her head as vigorously as she could without hurting herself.
“Not at all. I’m sorry. I just have—I have a bad grade in this class, and this is an extra credit opportunity I can’t miss.
” It was kind of true. “But I promise, you didn’t do anything wrong. ”
“I want to spend more time with you,” Kass said, his whole spirit seeming to droop plaintively.
Her heart melted a little, which was not without its own pain. “I want that, too,” she said. “I wish I could stay. But I have to go—I’m sorry.”
“I understand,” he said. “I just wish you’d let me drive you. But my shield charm will have to do, I guess. Here—” He bit his lower lip, concentrating, and moved his hand through a few positions in the air. “It should last a few hours, now. And I’ll stop by the café tomorrow, if that’s okay?”
“Very okay,” she said. “Please come. I’ll be there till close.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Dani began to walk away, or rather peel herself from his presence, feeling the bubble he’d created split in two as she put distance between them.
She was just as torn, ending their evening on a note like this—as sour as coffee that hadn’t been brewed long enough.
Before she could really think about what she was doing, Dani turned and ran back to him, the bubble rejoining without a splinter.
She hesitated for one breathless moment before she rocked forward onto her toes and kissed him sweetly on the lips.
Kass’s hands found her hair at once, urgent but gentle, as if he thought it might dissolve beneath his touch. When she pulled away, his hands remained, and the rain spilled down around their bubble like nothing in the world could touch them.
“Lionet,” she said. “My last name is Lionet.”
He looked vaguely stunned, but she saw the start of what might grow into an uncontrollable grin as soon as she turned her back.
“Until tomorrow, Danica Lionet,” he said, letting her hair fall free with the best kind of reluctance. The smile on her lips soared throughout her whole body, and this time when she left him, she felt completely whole.