Kaitlyn
Yet again, I have the weird, skin prickling feeling I’m being watched.
The bakery is as busy as ever, meaning I can concentrate on our customers and attempt to shake it off.
We’re getting so many repeat clients as well as new ones, and this morning, there was a queue for the first time, which was exciting.
It certainly appears we are the place to be, as witches and warlocks stand waiting patiently, gossiping.
“Have you heard about the Bluecap?” one warlock with a beard which nearly reaches the floor says to his friend behind him in the queue.
“There are no Bluecaps in Moranick, Harry,” his friend says. “I’d know.”
“You don’t know everything.” One of the witches behind him chortles. “Even if you think you have the gift of the sight.”
“What I have,” the bearded warlock says, not looking behind him, “is the ability to listen and watch. If there was a Bluecap in Moranick, I’d know.”
“Then what attacked Rowland of Callay in the square last night? He swears it was a Bluecap.”
“Rowland is always drunk.” The bearded warlock barks a laugh. “You can’t believe anything he thinks he’s seen. He was seeing Duegar the other day.”
“He was covered in scales,” Harry says, his voice lowered slightly. “Bluecap scales.”
“What’s a Bluecap?” I ask as I finish with my last customer and turn to assist Harry the warlock, who has been in before and likes a large loaf with caraway seeds.
“They’re creatures of the mines and caves,” he says, tapping the bottom of the loaf. “Can I have two of these today?”
“Sure.” I pick a second one from the shelving behind me.
“That’s not all they are,” the witch who was talking to the two warlocks says. “Tell the little human what they do.”
“They’re assassins, in the main,” Harry says salaciously as I wrap up the loaves.
“The ones who tend to appear, that is. It’s hard to know if they all are.
But if you see a Bluecap outside their natural environment, the chances are you’re their next mark.
Very dangerous, very violent, blood drinkers. We don’t want one in our town.”
“I doubt anyone would want to kill Rowland,” Harry’s friend adds. “Let alone drink his blood. It has to be forty percent proof.”
“He surprised it.”
“Then that settles it.” The bearded warlock folds his arms with finality. “There can’t be a Bluecap in Moranick. No self-respecting Bluecap would ever allow itself to be surprised.” He looks smug, and Harry huffs in annoyance.
“Two silver pieces.” I say, and he hands over the money.
“I don’t doubt what I’ve heard, and I’ll be locking my doors tonight,” Harry adds as he sweeps out of the shop.
Bearded Warlock shakes his head.
“Won’t do him any good if it really is a Bluecap. They can get through most locked doors. Shame he was never any good at locking spells.”
The witch behind him in the queue titters. “You are bad, Kevan.”
“Don’t you know it, Delores.” He manages a rather dirty wink and a leer under his beard.
I can’t help but smile at their flirting. It would appear every witch and warlock in this place is banging each other.
“What can I get you?” I return to a subject I’m more comfortable with.
By the time I turn over the closed sign again, I’m absolutely exhausted. But I have a burning question for Gloriana.
However, when I check the prep room and our parlour, there’s no sign of her. Her hat and cloak are missing, so I decide she must have gone out to arrange supplies…again. Instead I return to the shop and start sweeping up. I may as well get it done before I crash out with a cup of tea.
I’m crouched over a dustpan when I hear the bell on the door tinkle.
“We’re closed,” I call out. “Come back tomorrow.”
A breeze blows dust at me, and I get to my feet, only to find the door open and no one there. I hurry over and shut it, this time turning the latch to lock it.
When I turn back, he is behind the counter.
The creature has to be six and a half feet tall or more, a great mottled cloak hanging from his shoulders which nearly reaches the floor. He is fondling the last iced bun, the one I was saving to have with my tea.
“Hey! You shouldn’t be behind there,” I say.
He turns with the sweet treat in his hand, and I take a step back.
He is incredibly handsome, with sharp features and a full mouth.
His deep red eyes are still on the confectionary, but they rise to look at me.
At the same time, a set of feathery antennae lift from where they’re concealed in his white hair and twist like radar dishes.
What I thought was a cloak is absolutely not.
It’s a pair of great what can only be described as furry wings.
He isn’t wearing any clothing on his upper half, revealing a muscular chest which could put any bodybuilder to shame.
Two bandoliers criss-cross his mauve skin, bristling with knives.
A pair of leather trousers sits low on his waist, soft brown fur poking up from around the band.
The Bluecap.
The assassin.
“You eat this?” He holds out the sticky bun to me.
“Er…yes. Providing it hasn’t been handled,” I say.
He puts it down carefully on the counter, then gives it a pat, some of the icing coming off onto his fingers. He stares at the mess he’s made of his hand and then puts out a dark tongue to taste.
Instantly he makes a face, recoiling from his own hand with a blood curdling growl. I turn, unlock the door, and race out into the street, my heart racing.
Surrounded by the citizens of Moranick going about their business, I should feel safe, but I don’t.
“Everything okay, Kaitlyn?” the greengrocer, a large warlock called Brian with a big striped apron wrapped around his ample form, asks me.
I look back at the shop. It’s empty of any great Bluecap…mothman.
“Oh,” I push my hair back from my face. “Yes, it’s nothing. Gloriana needs to redo her insect repellant spells. I just saw a massive spider.”
He chuckles. “Not a fan of bugs?”
“Not when they surprise me,” I say, loudly. “I don’t like that at all.”
Brian gives me a quizzical look as Gloriana rounds the corner and sees me. If she’s confused why I’m in the street, she doesn’t show it, merely giving me a wave as she enters through the front door.
“Here.” Brian hands me a bag of apples. “I just got a consignment of these in. See if Gloriana wants to make some apple tarts.”
I’m sure I hear a growl as I take the fruit.