“All I ask is that you take it outside before you drink it,” my sister says, laughing. “If I had a dollar for every man who’s fallen in love with me after drinking this, I’d be at least fifty dollars richer.”
“I might fall in love with you without the potion,” Flirty Customer says with another wink.
“Sorry, you’re not my type,” Millie says and flashes a sassy grin as she builds his vanilla chai latte and adds the love potion.
“What, you don’t like devastatingly handsome, rich men?”
“I don’t like married men,” she replies smoothly, stirring his drink.
“How did you—?”
“I don’t call it Witches Brew for nothing.” She winks, and when she moves her hand away from the drink, it continues to stir without her, making the customer swallow hard. “I suggest, if you drink that, you do it while looking at your wife so you fall in love with her since you promised to do so until death do you part.”
She passes him his change, offers him a friendly wave, and once he’s through the door, she blows a loud raspberry through her lips.
“Dudes like that are disgusting,” she says as she leans over the counter toward me. “Have you found anything good?”
“Not yet. Most of it is gibberish to me.”
“That’s because you don’t speak witch.” She frowns when her eyes drop to my neck. “Where’s your pendant?”
“Oh.” I reach for it, but it’s not there. “I must not have put it back on after my shower. I’ll text Cash and ask him to bring it with him when he comes this way for lunch.”
I pull my phone out of my bag and shoot off the message, then frown down at the book.
“What if this doesn’t work, Mill?”
“There isn’t another option,” she says and waves at another customer who just walked through the door. “Go ahead and sit anywhere. I’ll be right over to take your order.”
“I love your café.”
Her grin is wide and proud. “Me, too. How does it feel in here today?”
I let myself look around the space. “No shadows.”
“I smudged last night, and it should hold for a while. Are the girls still around?”
“There are six, but they stay outside. I don’t know why they can’t come in.”
“Let’s be frank here, I’m glad they stay on the sidewalks. It would just be awful if you had to stare at mangled bodies all day.”
“You have a good point.”
“Miss? We’re ready to order.”
Millie hurries over to the couple at the table in the corner, and I stare down at a yellowed page of the book.
The thing is huge. I’ve always seen big, magical tomes full of spells and recipes for potions in movies like Practical Magic or even Hocus Pocus, which always makes me laugh because my sisters and I look just like the Sanderson sisters—if we were evil witches, of course.
But I never expected these books to really exist. Not until we found this one in the house under floorboards in the little storage room where we hid.
“It has to be a hundred and three degrees outside,” Millie says as she hurries behind the counter to fix the customers’ drinks.
“Feels like it,” I agree.
“How can people drink hot coffee on a day like this?” She shakes her head and starts up the steamer. “It perplexes me.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Daphne says as she rushes inside, carrying a large tote bag full of notes and books. “I’ve been at the library doing a little research.”
“Wait, you went to the library?” I stare at her in shock. “Daph, that place must wreak havoc on you.”
“Not fun,” she agrees. “I can’t tell you how many people have sex in libraries. It’s disgusting. Not to mention, there were some books that people used to try and figure out how to kill someone and get away with it.”
“Our killer?”
“Not that I could tell. No, mostly, they were people trying to off their spouses. It’s just sad. Anyway, my shields are up, and I’m careful. Millie and I didn’t find much in Grandma’s book about dream-walking. Yet, anyway. There are some passages written in Cajun and a couple of others in what looked to be Latin that we couldn’t decipher, and Millie’s going to ask Miss Sophia what they say. In the meantime, I did some digging on dream-walking.”
“Is there an instruction manual?”
“I wish.” She digs around in her bag and slaps some books and loose papers on the counter. “Hey, Mill? Can I please get an iced chai? I’ll love you forever.”
“You’ll love me forever anyway. But, yes. Do you want anything, Bri?”
“I’ll have the same as Daphne, thanks.”
“I’m adding some—”
“Yes, yes. Of course, you are,” Daphne says, waving our sister off. “Now, as I said, there is no manual on how to do it. Unfortunately, like most things that are part of our reality, it’s not really something that’s been studied, and therefore, we don’t understand exactly how it works.”