to look like an idiot.
How the hell did that slip my mind? He just told me about it.
“Can we stop by that diner on our way so I can drop off the tea?” I ask. “You know, if it’s on the way,” I add, realizing I have no idea where it is in relation to where we are now or where we’re going.
“Yeah, that works, let’s leave in thirty then, cool?”
Rogan disappears out the door before I can so much as offer my cool in agreement, and despair settles around me in his wake. I can’t really blame him; I’d probably need a moment to myself too if I thought my parents were plotting against me.
I look over at my bag of bones and send out a plea to them for help. I feel at a complete loss for what to do. Clearly, the Order thinks the solution is obvious, but the one interaction I’ve had with them could have killed me. They play too fast and loose to be trusted with something I value above all things, my life.
I sense the hot breath of some unknown danger as it breathes threateningly down my back. I worry I won’t be smart enough, fast enough, or powerful enough to keep from getting swallowed up by it. I have so many questions and so few answers. It’s beyond frustrating and disheartening.
I fluff my curls and make my way upstairs to get my shoes. Hopefully, after meeting with this coven, I can check worries about tethering off my list. If Rogan and I can fix our magic without any long-term damage, then I’ll count that as the win. And one thing I know for sure is that right now, we could desperately use one.
Sleigh bells jingle as I pull the door to the diner open, a box of homemade pain-relieving tea bags tucked under my arm. I realized as we parked outside that I didn’t get the waitress’s name, and I’m not sure if she’ll be working today.
I scan the mostly empty diner. There’s a younger raven-haired waitress refilling the drinks of a middle-aged couple sitting side by side in a booth. And at the counter, a woman with curly dark brown hair sits on a stool, casually sipping a cup of coffee. Disappointment drops like a marble in my gut when I don’t see the waitress with the kind blue eyes roaming around.
I approach the counter and set the box on top of the clean surface, waiting for the raven-haired waitress to finish up with the couple. Hopefully, she’ll either be willing to pass along the tea or tell me when I can stop back by to drop it off myself. The lady with the curly dark hair looks over at me, and I offer her a warm smile.
She gives me an uncertain half-grin and then drops her gaze back down to her cup of coffee. The door to the back swings open, and to my relief, the waitress with the salt-and-pepper hair and warm blue eyes walks out.
“Hello, honey,” she greets me warmly. “What can I get started for you?” she adds as she settles in front of me.
“I’m so glad you’re here. I brought that tea that I mentioned when I was here before,” I tell her, and then I see a flash of confusion streak through her gaze. She takes me in, I’m sure searching her memory banks, and I know she’s found our exchange when her eyes light up. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to drop it off yesterday, but as promised, there’s nothing bad or illegal, and it won’t make you sick,” I reassure her.
“Oh don’t be sorry, honey. Truth be told, I completely forgot, so this is a welcome surprise.”
I chuckle and hand the box over. I hope it helps—my grandmother swore by it—and I put my card in the box in case you ever want more.”
“That’s kind of you, dear, are you sure I don’t owe you anything?” she asks, taking the box. I can feel her genuine curiosity and excitement.
“Not a thing, it’s my pleasure to help,” I tell her, pushing away from the counter.
She graces me with a beautiful smile. “Well, I think I’ll brew a cup right now. I’m just starting my shift, so this will be a good test,” she declares cheerily.
I wave a goodbye, and she darts back through the door to the back. I turn to leave, and that’s when it hits me. That uncomfortable feeling scratching