Chapter Four

The Enchanted Cat Cafe was empty, save one black-haired man in an expensive black suit facing away from me. I'd never actually had a conversation with Cal Reaves, though I'd seen him around the Cove every so often when he came to speak with my grandmother. I didn't know much about the vampire other than outrageous rumors. He was absolutely filthy rich, from New Orleans, and had cornered the market in hotels across the island.

"Don't stand in the doorway, Josephine. It's rude."

I practically jumped out of my skin, forgetting that vampires had senses for those sorts of things, then continued walking, trying my best to keep a confident air. Big Jo always said she didn't trust a vampire as far as she could throw them, but she did conduct business with them. And Cal had been at her memorial service, which was nice. But perhaps it was politics.

Vamps, as a rule, weren't the gloom and doom that popular media made them out to be. They were immortal, unlike most of the rest of us, and they did subsist on blood. But they considered themselves civilized, and instead of killing random humans, merely set up fake blood banks and took their feedings that way.

However, Cal Reaves was in a class all his own. When I was growing up, he'd arrived on the shores of Eldred's Beach and started snapping up properties. What had once been small, one-story shacks built in the 1960s soon morphed into hurricane-proof high-rise condos and hotels, complete with rooftop infinity pools, indoor gaming centers, and a litany of high-end restaurants. The beach had mostly been inhabited by selkies, who enjoyed a good relationship with the mermaids in the Gulf. I wasn't sure what had happened to them after Cal's bulldozers came through.

Was he planning the same fate for the Cove if he got his sharp canines into it?

"Try not to sell the place out from under Aimee."

My thoughts stopped abruptly when I reached his table. He hadn't aged a single day since I'd first met him as a child, looking more like a twenty-something human than a however-old-he-actually-was vampire. He rose, extending his long, slender fingers to take mine, and I tried not to jump at the coldness of them.

"My sincere condolences for the loss of your grandmother," he said, his words dripping like molasses. "But it is so good of you to come down and pay your respects. Please, have a seat."

I did so, not entirely sure it was of my own volition. The table was set with a spread of everything on the Enchanted Cat's menu. Syrup pooled atop pancakes stacked ten high, a bowl of cheese grits was steaming next to a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and a biscuit. Next to that, a western omelet, BLT, and fried catfish with french fries. It was more than any one person could eat, and I was pretty sure vampires didn't eat real food.

Cal seemed to read my mind (or actually read it; my vampire knowledge was a little rusty) and flashed a smile that showed off those pearly white, sharp canines of his.

"I hope you don't mind, but I asked Mr. Meredith to whip up some food. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I ordered it all."

I tried not to wince. I'd probably hear all about it from Kit when we caught that drink later. "That's kind of you." Even though I wasn't hungry, I picked up the biscuit and slathered on jelly. "Though I can't imagine you bought all this just to offer your condolences." I gestured toward the grits. "Please."

"Ah, you must not remember much about my kind. Unfortunately, this food isn't nutritious for me," he said, which I took to be code for something else, a look of derision on his face. "But please, eat as much as you like. I'm so sorry for accosting you like this, especially the day after the memorial, but you ran out of the Cove so quickly last night that I didn't have a chance to chat with you."

I picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip, trying to keep my face passive. It wasn't nearly as good as what The Shack had brewed for me that morning, nor anywhere close to the standard I'd get in Atlanta. But it was drinkable, and the food would more than make up for it. After I took a bite of biscuit, I realized I was actually hungry and began chowing down, despite the awkwardness of the one-sided dining experience.

"So." Cal surveyed me over the plates of food. "What are your plans for the Cove?"

Must be that vulture Aimee was warning me about.

I helped myself to the cheese grits, mixing the eggs with them and scooping them onto the biscuit.

"Unclear at the moment," I said, hoping I could keep this vague enough not to give him any hint of what I was actually thinking. "Some things to figure out before I make any decisions."

"Well, let me be the first to—"

"Offer to take it off my hands?" I asked, loading more grits and egg up on the biscuit. "Look, I know you've got a lot of money, but I don't think—"

"I'm willing to offer you two million dollars in cash for the Cove and your grandmother's acreage."

The biscuit stopped halfway to my mouth. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Witch's Cove is prime real estate," he said, sitting back and flashing me another wide smile. "The ocean front, the existing clientele. The rich history. I'd be a fool not to add it to my collection."

"I see."

"It's been a few years since you've been back, I hear," he said with a knowing smirk. "I'd love for you to come out to the beach and see what we've put together. I think you'll find that I've kept a careful eye on the past while building the future there. And you can't deny the peacefulness that comes from the Gulf of Mexico."

I doubted that. Eldred's Beach had always been a bit too touristy for my liking. Lots of supernaturals getting a little too drunk on magical liquor and sporting weird tan lines. Besides that, why would I need to travel to the Gulf when I had the perfect oasis at the Cove?

"What are your plans for it?" I asked. "If you were to buy it from me."

"Does it matter?" He flashed another smile, and my gaze caught on those two pointed teeth again. "You've got a life in…what is it? Atlanta?"

I nodded. "I do."

"And I'm sure you'd be happy to get a nice chunk of change." He sat back, waving his elixir-covered hand. "And the peace of mind of knowing that your grandmother's affairs are settled in one fell swoop. Not to mention that you'd be two million dollars richer."

A million and a half, if that mortgage needed to be paid. But that could go a long way in Atlanta. It was tempting, for sure.

"Just think about it, will you?" He pulled a business card from his pocket and slid it across the full table. "I'm a phone call away."

And with that, he left the booth and walked out the door, leaving me with a half-eaten breakfast sitting uncomfortably in my stomach.

~~

"You'd better not sell your grandmother's bar."

Kit had changed out of her Enchanted Cat t-shirt into a dark purple long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Her long, black hair was swept up into a ponytail, and her eyes were fixed on me the moment I walked into the Cove's covered area.

"Hello to you, too," I said with a look as I took the open seat next to her. "I hope the vamp paid for all that food."

"He's Cal Reaves, of course he did," Kit said. "Dad wants me to swing by after this and clean it all up. Don't suppose you got any magic in the last eight years, did you?"

I shook my head. "I can help, though."

"It'll take you longer than it'll take me," she said as Grace appeared with two beers. "Hope you don't mind, I ordered for you. Didn't think you wanted to tie one on tonight."

"I do not, thank you." The beer, from a craft brewery run by an industrious imp out of Montgomery, was delicious and fruity.

"So you didn't answer my question."

"I didn't." I looked at the bottle. "He offered me two million for the house and the Cove."

Based on the way her perfectly plucked eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, she'd been expecting a much lower number. "Are you gonna take it?"

"I should." I rolled the bottle between my hands. "It'd make this whole mess a lot easier."

"Fates, Jo, you can't possibly be considering it," Kit said, gesturing to the bar around them. "He'll destroy the place. Not to mention your grandmother's property. Are you seriously thinking about selling to him?"

"Calm down. I haven't given him an answer," I said.

"You should have. No."

"Did you know Big Jo racked up half a million dollars in debt?" I asked, looking at her intently.

"What?" She took a sip of her beer. "Why?"

"No clue. Aimee says she doesn't know, either. But the mortgage payment is taking a huge chunk out of profits, to the point where it's hard to keep up with it." I nodded toward the back office, where the door was open. "So something's got to give."

"But the bar? Fates, Jo. Your grandmother would roll over in her grave."

"Good thing she's going in an urn, then."

Kit scowled at me. "That's not funny."

I made a rolling motion. "Easier to roll, you know."

"Jo." She was fighting a laugh. "Not funny."

"Well, when your entire family dies, you tend to develop dark humor," I said, looking out onto the sound.

The ferry from Eldred's Beach, a large white boat with two open levels, was approaching. As the crow flew, the Beach wasn't very far from the Cove, or Eldred's Hollow, even. But to get there, you had to drive all the way north to the interstate, over twenty miles, then take a stoplight-filled road down to cross onto the barrier island. And while broomsticks were useful over land, they were a hazard over open water. So most witches opted for the ferry.

The boat now sidled to the very end of the marina dock, which seemed to have been expanded in the years since I'd been here last. A trickle of people disembarked, then the ferry kept moving back to the Beach.

"Is Stuart still running things?" I asked, nodding to the boat.

"Oh, yeah. He makes a mint now, what with everyone working at the Beach these days," she said.

"How long has there been a stop at the Cove?" I asked.

"Oh, um…" Kit furrowed her brow. "Maybe five years? Stuart had a dispute with the werewolves who owned the previous dock. You remember where it was, down by the griffon farm?"

I didn't.

"Anyway, of course Big Jo told him he was welcome to use her dock, provided he paid for the expansion."

"That was nice of her," I said. She and Stuart had been friends for as long as I could remember. There'd even been a rumored romance between them, but nothing ever came of it.

"I don't know about nice," Kit said with a laugh. "She's charging him a pretty penny in rent. Not to mention, all the witches and warlocks who work in Eldred's Beach come here to have a drink before going home. I'd say it was a smart business move."

And yet, with all that extra income, Big Jo was barely making her note. It didn't make any sense.

"I forgot how peaceful it can be here," I said, after a too-long pause. "Not that we ever got peace working the marina."

She let out a snort. Before she'd gotten roped into working at the cafe, Kit had been here at the Cove with me. We'd been in charge of collecting rent from the folks who wanted to park their recreation boats for the day, as well as bringing them food, drinks, supplies, whatever they needed. Of course, we'd often find ourselves in trouble for hanging out on boats with young, strapping tourists and drinking their booze.

"Do you remember that time you tried to get Koby Penfeather onto the Viking boat to make out with him?" she asked, grinning at me.

My face turned bright red. Tried was the operative word there. "Don't remind me."

She laughed. "He's married to Ella Bainbridge now. They took over her father's unicorn farm."

"Man, everyone's married to everyone else," I said, taking a long swig of my still-cool beer. One of the perks of magic. "I saw Karen Shaw—"

"Yeah. That wasn't really a surprise. She and Ricky were always hot and heavy at the high school football games."

"What about you?" I asked. "Anyone catch your eye around these parts?"

She shook her head with a laugh. "If they did, they'd have to answer to my father, and you know how that would go." She screwed up her face in an uncanny likeness of her father. "Don't you be taking advantage of my little princess!"

"I think Harold Redfin took care of that junior year," I said, giving her a look.

"Sssh!" She looked around with a grin. "What about you? Anyone special in Atlanta?"

"My dating life is as robust as my magical abilities."

She bit her lip. "So…things aren't any better in that department?"

I shook my head. "I don't even have a wand anymore."

"Yeah, I remember when you chucked it into the sound." She cracked a smile. "But surely you've got…something?"

All my life, I'd struggled to conjure, to cast, to do the thing that had come so easily to everyone else in Eldred's Hollow. Both of my parents were gifted magic wielders, and obviously, Big Jo was the most gifted of them all, and always thought I'd come into mine eventually. The night my parents died had been the final straw for me. With all the magic around here, I just didn't see how it could've been possible that a simple car crash could've taken them out. Big Jo had tried to explain it, but I didn't want to hear it. Magic was useless to me, so I'd vowed I'd build a new life without it.

"I'm a wizard at Excel," I said, after a long pause.

She snorted then burst into big, belly-shaking laughter. I couldn't help but join in. It was like nothing had changed between us, and we were a pair of sixteen-year-olds who'd snuck beer from the back room.

We talked for so long that the sun set in the distance and the ferry had permanently docked, but neither one of us had any intention of stopping. The twinkling lights of the hotels across the sound were starting to come on. As much as I'd hated those hotels for ruining my view growing up, they were kind of pretty. The warm breeze off the water, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the smell of hot dogs cooking behind me spoke to something in my soul that I couldn't find anywhere else.

"It's really nice to see you," she said. "I've really missed you."

"Me, too." I smiled at her. "Maybe I should make it a habit to come back more often."

"Probably gonna have to if you keep the bar," she said. "May even have to move back."

I stared at my empty beer bottle, turning it over in my hands. Grace had started us on a new type of beer, unasked but not unwelcome. The label had a pretty witch on it, and the brewery seemed to be based out of New Orleans.

"I asked Danny if I could just give it to Aimee, but he said I'd need to satisfy the debt first, and there's no way she could come up with that money. So I probably will have to sell it to someone like Cal." The bar had filled with the end-of-day drinkers. "Nobody'd understand that though. They'd see it as a betrayal."

"If you don't live here, who cares what they think?" she asked.

I did, despite everything. "I haven't made any decisions. First, I need to find an internet connection. I told my job I'd be out of pocket for a few days, but I do have to check in every so often."

"Where are you staying?" she asked. "Eldred's Beach?"

"The Shack." I drank the rest of my beer. "It hasn't hidden any of my clothes or let spiders crawl on me at night, so maybe it's taking a shine to me. Finally."

"Stranger things have surely happened." She chuckled then yawned loudly. "Look, I should probably call it a night. Got to be at the cafe bright and early tomorrow. But I'd love to keep catching up. Will you come by for breakfast in the morning? We have Wi-Fi."

I cracked a smile. "I might do that."

She squeezed my shoulder. "You know, it's really not so bad here at the Hollow."

"For someone who can wield magic," I said.

She opened and closed her mouth then squeezed again. "See you in the morning at the Cafe?"

"Sure thing." I smiled. "Thanks for the chat."