Chapter 3

3

CAROLINA

I sense him before he walks into Cup Silas would have signaled me, so I’m not sure what it’s trying to tell me. Like calls to like , it whispers again.

Magic, while mostly silent, is a living thing. It grows and matures with the witch it’s chosen. On rare occasions, it voices opinions…or, in this case, nonsensical thoughts about strange men.

The man isn’t looking at me. His gaze darts around the shop, lingering on the paintings and then on the menus above my head. A corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly.

“You’ve really got a theme going on here.” His voice is deep, gravelly in a way that makes me want to brush against him like Silas might. “The paintings are…interesting.”

He looks at me then, his head inclined to the wall I had just fixated on. Had he noticed that?

But he isn’t wrong. Cup I’ll be back. Maybe you’ll be more amenable after you’ve had your coffee.”

“Unlikely,” I say quietly but loud enough that he pauses as he passes me.

Detective O’Reilly lets me have the last word as he exits the shop. The bell jingles just as it had when he entered.

Silas hops on the counter with a hearty, “ Me-ow. ” I roll my eyes and watch Detective O’Reilly get into a car with one last nod at me through the window. “You going to hex him?”

“You know we don’t do that…” I say, turning back to the counter, “ anymore .” Silas is perched beside the register, licking a paw. “Do you need to do that right here?”

His large eyes fix on me as he continues his ministrations. “Yes.”

“Well, okay then.” I pull out my phone to call Camila but pause before I can unlock the screen.

“What are you going to tell Camila?” Silas asks, pausing his grooming .

I glance at him. “What are you going to tell Camila?”

“Carolina, you wound me. I would never say anything you didn’t want me to,” he says, standing and flicking his tail this way and that.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and look at the cat incredulously. “Sorry, did you become my familiar, and I forgot?” My eyes narrow, and I don’t wait for him to answer because his kindness can only mean one thing. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing.” He says before leaping off the counter and strolling across the cafe.

Cauldron brew me. “Where’s Luna?” The black cat doesn’t answer, and I contemplate turning him into a scratching post. “Silas,” I growl in a low voice.

“Luna can’t come to the phone right now.”

“Silas, I swear to Lucifer, where is Luna?”

But he doesn’t respond before leaping into the painting. Charmingly familiar, my ass.