Chapter 3
Willow
Everyone who could appear in the daylight had turned out to decorate the town square for the upcoming Halloween Festival.
Even in late morning with unlit candles and darkened jack-o’-lanterns, it looked magical.
Votives and tea lights dotted the steps of the witch-hat gazebo, pumpkins adorned every stoop, and flowers bloomed at the manicured edges of the town square in shades of burgundy, marmalade, and marigold.
I’d pulled out copious amounts of fall decorations from the café’s storage closet last week.
Having a spooktacular storefront was more of a competition than a requirement around these parts, but I knew I would get an earful from Billy if I hadn’t carved half a dozen food-themed jack-o’-lanterns for my big bay window.
Harlow, Jordyn, and I spent hours untangling leaf garlands, arranging faux cobwebs on the coffee menu, and brushing out the fur of the taxidermy trick-or-treating squirrels that had mysteriously shown up in my café last year.
Everything needed to look perfect for the most Instagrammable event in town.
The Halloween Festival usually brought thousands of visitors, but attendance was expected to double. This year’s tickets had sold out in a matter of minutes. I had a sneaking suspicion the new witch in town—and her social media degree—had had something to do with that.
Balancing on a wobbly ladder and clinging to the light post, I held the twinkling bat-shaped lights above my head while stretching toward the waiting hook.
“Holy Halloween, Batman!” Harlow cheered from the base of the ladder when the string came to life. “It looks great.”
“I just have to—” I looked down and instantly regretted it. “Whoa.”
I didn’t like heights, but between the two of us, Harlow had the clumsier feet, which should always stay firmly planted on the ground.
Not to mention, she’d been packing on muscle since she’d started working at the café and was a more reliable ladder holder.
Hauling bussing tubs, sweeping, and keeping the storeroom stocked with heavy bags of coffee beans was apparently just as good as lifting weights at the gym.
Jordyn called something out to Harlow from where she was decorating the apothecary window, and Harlow’s head whipped toward her like a moth to a flame.
“Coming!” Harlow replied, releasing the wobbling ladder I was precariously perched on.
“Wait!” I cried, windmilling my arms in midair like a cartoon character.
Lucky for me, Avery swooped in with supernatural speed and gripped the ladder, stabilizing it. “Got it!” the young vampire called up to me.
“Lifesaver,” I said with a sigh of relief. “I almost pancaked across the pavement because of my golden-retriever sister.”
“Jordyn being the tennis ball in this metaphor?” Avery quipped, peeking up at me with her gray eyes and razor-sharp winged eyeliner.
“You got it.” I chuckled, holding on for dear life while carefully stepping down, rung by rung.
“They’re cute together.” She had a dreamy look on her face when I peeked down between my feet.
I knew that feeling well: the mix of loneliness, jealousy, and a dash of hope just off on the horizon. “They know.” I took another step down, the creaking of old wood not giving me any comfort.
“Oh, Willow.” I felt Avery tug on my overalls. “There’s something falling out of your back pocket.”
“What?” I reached around and felt the corner of a crinkled-up piece of paper.
These overalls were fresh out of the wash, and I hadn’t opened up the café this morning. There shouldn’t have been anything in my pockets, but maybe Harlow had tucked it in there earlier? It wouldn’t be the first time my younger sister has used me as a purse.
I stepped onto solid ground before opening the note, and my pulse picked up speed.
It was the ominous message from the café, the one I’d tossed in the trash.
Stick to your own kind.
My stomach hollowed. How had it gotten into my overalls?
“You okay?” Avery asked. “You’re looking paler than usual.”
“Hmm?” I crumpled the note back up and shoved it in my front pocket. “It’s fine. I’m just being haunted or something.”
She snorted. “A fairly normal occurrence in these parts.”
“Yeah, well. I think my mystic shadow is a little more aggressive than my usual tolerance.” I shoved the paper deeper into my pocket for good measure.
Avery’s brow wrinkled. “Maybe ask the witches for a new warding spell on the café, just to be safe.”
I glanced over to the apothecary, where my baby sister was giggling with Jordyn and Iris. It wouldn’t be hard to mention it to any of them. But after everything the town had dealt with over the last year, it felt like a small note would be low on the list of threats.
“What’s this about warding spells?” Agnes asked her daughter as she walked by, carrying a wicker basket of rather warty gourds.
“Willow’s got a ghost situation.”
I waved my hands. “I’ve got it under control.”
The last thing I needed was for Agnes to make my molehill of an issue into a mountain. The residents of Maple Hollow were closer than people in your average town. A few suspicious deaths and paranormal mysteries brought a community together like that.
Agnes gave me a sharp look, a different kind of severe than her goth daughter. No, she had the countenance of a Victorian dowager, high-necked black lace top and all. “Don’t be too proud to ask for help,” she admonished. “That’s how people get possessed around here.”
I gulped. “Possessed?”
I was currently trialing a new cinnamon spice mocha recipe; I didn’t have time to be possessed by a vengeful spirit. No, that would need to wait until the busy season ended. Nothing like a good exorcism during Christmas to reset for the new year.
Across the square, Jordyn and Harlow had dropped the pretense of decorating. Harlow toyed with the hem of Jordyn’s cable-knit sweater, the two of them looking more like a pair of teenagers outside of Maple Hollow High and less like two grown-ass adults.
I rolled my eyes.
“Yep,” Avery quipped, following my line of sight. “Nothing grosser than two people in puppy love, especially when you’re chronically single. Me, not you,” she added hastily.
“Both of us,” I lamented.
“I thought you and Wyatt were . . .”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“I stand corrected.”
“You can trust me to never be all disgustingly sugar sweet and loved up like that, even if I do get into a relationship one day.”
“Same.” She stretched out her hand for me to shake. “It’s a deal.” I eyed her, and she guffawed. “I’m a vampire, not a demon. It’s not that kind of deal.”
“Right,” I replied with an awkward chuckle, shaking her hand. “It’s a deal.”