5. Leire #2
She’s smaller than I expected—compact and kinetic, like she’s vibrating at a frequency slightly higher than everyone else.
Her clothes are covered in what might be beer stains or magical residue or both.
Her eyes are bright with the particular gleam of someone who has never once considered the consequences of their actions.
“You’re the crystal witch!” She vaults over the bar—vaults, legs swinging, and lands with a thud that shakes the floorboards. “Leire, right? Anouk said you might actually show. I bet Sakura five gold you’d bail.”
“Glad I could lose you money?”
“Don’t be. I never win those bets.” She grabs my arm and starts pulling me toward a table in the back corner. “Come, come. The gang’s all here. Well, most of the gang. The interesting parts of the gang.”
The table is occupied.
Anouk sits at one end, elegant even in this chaotic space, a glass of amber liquid in front of her. Sakura is at the other end, looking slightly wild-eyed and clutching a drink that appears to be... smoking?
“Leire!” Sakura’s face lights up. “You came! I was so worried you wouldn’t come. Zeph said you probably wouldn’t. I said you definitely would. I was right. I’m very rarely right about things, so this is exciting.”
“That’s a lot of sentences.” I let Zeph push me into a chair between them. “Also, your drink is on fire.”
“It does that.” Sakura peers at the glass. “It’s fine. Probably. Zeph, is it fine?”
“Define ‘fine.’” Zeph is already back behind the bar, pulling bottles with reckless speed.
“In the sense of not being actively toxic? Absolutely. In the sense of not causing mild hallucinations? Results vary. Oh! That reminds me—nobody drink the green stuff tonight. The green stuff is having issues.”
“Issues?” Anouk’s tone is perfectly level, which somehow makes it more alarming.
“It might be sentient now. Still figuring that out. Anyway!” Zeph returns with a tray of drinks, setting one in front of me that sparkles with what look like actual stars. “First round’s on the house. Consider it a welcome-to-the-coven gift.”
I stare at the drink. The stars are definitely moving.
“What is it?”
“Starlight Special. Completely safe. Mostly. Like, ninety percent safe.”
“What does the other ten percent do?”
“Makes your magic a bit sparkly for an hour or so. Nothing permanent.” Zeph drops into the remaining chair and props her feet on the table.
“So. Crystal witch. Tell me everything. Where’d you come from?
What’s your specialty? And most importantly—” She leans forward, eyes gleaming.
“What do you think of your assigned shadow?”
“My—” I blink. “Aslan?”
“Murder cat.” Zeph cackles at my expression. “That’s what we call him. Affectionately. Mostly. He’s been circling your shop every night like you’re about to disappear and he won’t allow it. Half the town is taking bets on when he finally does something about it.”
Heat rises in my face. “About what?”
“Zeph.” Anouk’s voice carries a warning. “Perhaps we could let Leire settle in before you interrogate her about her love life?”
“What love life? I don’t have a love life. There’s no life. Of any kind. Romantic or otherwise.” I grab the Starlight Special and take a large gulp.
It tastes like honey and moonlight and a slight electrical tingle that makes my fingertips spark.
Okay. That’s new.
“Slow down.” Sakura reaches over to steady my glass. “I made the chugging mistake my first night. Ended up accidentally summoning a localized weather system in Zeph’s storage room.”
“She really did.” Zeph doesn’t sound remotely bothered. “There’s still a small cloud in there. I’ve named him Gerry. He’s shy.”
“You named... your cloud?”
“Gerald has feelings too.” Zeph crosses her arms. “Don’t cloud-shame in my establishment.”
Anouk’s lips lift into the start of a smile. I didn’t think her face did that.
“So.” Sakura turns to me, her earlier anxiety settling into genuine warmth. “How has it been? With the whole...” She gestures vaguely. “Situation?”
The situation. The crystal rearrangement. The dead bird. The symbol I still can’t identify and the woman who knew too much about my past.
“Eventful.” I take another, slower sip. “Someone broke into my shop without triggering my wards. Left a threat that suggests they know things they shouldn’t. And now I have a tiger shifter stalking my every move, which is either comforting or deeply annoying, depending on the hour.”
“Mine brings muffins.” Sakura’s voice is wistful. “The bear. Torin. He showed up at my studio with blueberry muffins and a very sincere expression. It was terrifying.”
“Wait.” I set down my drink. “You have a shifter following you too?”
“Apparently I’m a ‘magical disturbance.’” She makes air quotes. “Which, fair. I did make it rain inside my landlord’s building. Twice. And there was an incident with a ceiling fan that I’d rather not discuss.”
“The ceiling fan thing was hilarious.” Zeph is grinning again. “The maintenance guy still won’t come into her studio. He just leaves tools on the doorstep and runs.”
“It’s not funny.” But Sakura is smiling, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Okay, it’s a little funny. But also mortifying. And Torin just... he doesn’t seem scared. He brought me muffins and told me he’d weathered worse.”
“He’s a bear.” Anouk’s voice carries the patience of someone who’s explained this many times. “Bears weather everything.”
“Still.” Sakura fidgets with her glass. “It’s strange. Having someone watch you all the time. Even if they’re trying to help.”
I know exactly what she means. The feeling of attention pressing against your skin. The awareness of another presence, always there, always observing. The way it makes you feel simultaneously safer and more exposed.
“Mine skipped the muffins. Showed up with scones from Grandmother Peach, allegedly.”
“Allegedly?” Anouk raises an eyebrow.
“She knew I wasn’t eating enough. Which is unsettling, because I’ve barely interacted with her.” I pause. “Everything about Grandmother Peach is unsettling. She gave me a charm I still can’t figure out and smiled at me like she knew secrets I don’t have clearance for.”
“That’s her whole thing.” Zeph waves a dismissive hand. “Cryptic warnings, knowing smiles, peach cobbler that borders on the supernatural. We’ve all learned to just go with it.”
“The cobbler is unreasonably good.” Sakura nods emphatically. “I had some. I cried. Actual tears. It was embarrassing.”
“Her cobbler makes everyone cry.” Zeph’s grin turns sly. “Speaking of making people emotional—Anouk. Any updates on your situation?”
Anouk’s expression doesn’t change, but her posture shifts. Closes off. “I don’t have a situation.”
“You have a wolf situation. Specifically, a very tall, very intense wolf who stares at you during every Network meeting like you hung the moon.”
“Caius is a colleague.” Each word is precise. Controlled. “Our interaction is purely professional.”
“Uh huh.” Zeph’s skepticism could strip paint. “That’s why he shows up at the apothecary three times a week for supplies he definitely doesn’t need.”
“He runs the Protection Network. They have substantial supply requirements—”
“He bought lavender bath salts last Tuesday. Bath salts, Anouk. The most terrifying wolf in Mistvale is taking lavender baths.”
Sakura makes a sound that might be a giggle. I’m trying very hard not to do the same.
Anouk takes a measured sip of her drink. “Perhaps we could discuss anything other than my imaginary romantic entanglements.”
“Fine. Let’s discuss Leire’s very real romantic entanglements.” Zeph pivots with alarming speed. “Has Aslan kissed you yet?”
I choke on my Starlight Special. Actual stars come out of my nose.
“What—no—there’s no—we barely speak—”
“But there’s tension. Everyone can see the tension.” Zeph leans forward. “The last time I saw tension like that, it was between Sunny’s new apprentice and that selkie musician, and they ended up engaged within a month.”
“There’s no tension.”
“Your magic literally sparks when he walks by. The crystals in your window rearranged themselves into a heart shape yesterday.”
“They did not—” I pause. Think about the rose quartz display I found oddly clustered this morning. “That was coincidence.”
“Sure.” Zeph’s grin is insufferable. “Coincidence. Like the way the mist turns pink around your shop whenever he’s nearby.”
“The mist doesn’t—”
“It absolutely does.” Sakura winces apologetically. “I noticed it too. I thought maybe it was a weather thing at first, but then I realized it only happens when he’s watching you.”
I am going to sink into this floor and never emerge.
“Can we please talk about literally anything else?”
“No.” Zeph is having entirely too much fun. “This is the most exciting gossip we’ve had in months. The murder cat is smitten with the new crystal witch. It’s like a fairy tale, except with more brooding and fewer musical numbers.”
“He’s not—I’m not—there’s nothing—”
Magic crackles at my fingertips. The fairy lights overhead flicker. My drink bubbles ominously.
And then, because the universe has a sense of humor I deeply resent, it starts to rain.
Inside the brewery.
A small cloud has materialized above our table, producing a steady drizzle that’s soaking my hair and making Zeph laugh so hard she nearly falls off her chair.
“Sorry!” Sakura scrambles upright, hands raised, trying to disperse the cloud. “Sorry, sorry, emotions got away from me—”
“Gerry’s got a friend!” Zeph is actually crying now. “This is the best night ever!”
Anouk produces a compact umbrella from somewhere and holds it over her drink with perfect composure. “This happens more often than you’d think.”
The cloud is growing. Sakura’s efforts to contain it are making things worse—the drizzle becomes a downpour, then small hail, then what might be snow.
“Buckets!” Zeph waves at her staff. “Get the buckets! We’re doing weather again!”