A Witch's Magic by N. E. Conneely

Author:N. E. Conneely [Conneely, N. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: N. E. Conneely

Chapter Fourteen

That’s what I told myself right up to the moment when I pulled into the parking lot and saw the drive-through line wrapping around the building. It might not be as quick of a stop as I’d wanted, but it would still do the trick. Rather than sit in my car as I waited, I parked and headed inside. At least this way I could get a secondhand pick-me-up while my tea was in progress.

I pushed open the door and was assaulted by absolute chaos. It took me a moment to sort it all out. In the chair closest to the door, a woman with her face buried in her hands sobbed violently. The man across the table from her was frantically making list upon list on a tiny scrap of paper, the words running into each other.

On the other side of them, a man was screaming into his phone. Three people were laying on the ground behind him, asleep from the look of them. Behind the counter, one barista was slumped across the cash register, shaking ever so slightly. Two other baristas were darting back and forth frantically but didn’t seem to be noticing when they spilled drinks or something fell on the floor. The last barista was frantically scrubbing the cappuccino machine, but it didn’t look dirty. If anything, it looked like she’d been doing the same task for quite a while.

They were far from the only ones. On the other side of the store, a large man was pacing back and forth, talking to himself. Near him, another woman appeared to be asleep on her feet. At the tables behind them, four people behaved as oddly as the rest. Two girls were sharing a table, and they seemed to be typing so fast the computer couldn’t even register the keystrokes. The other two tables each had one person, a scowling elderly woman and a crying young man.

I cracked open my shields, intending to extend a tiny tendril of magic, but I didn’t even get that far. The entire room was overflowing with some type of magic, similar to what I’d seen at Happy Paws and The Creamery. Like those jobs, I would need help.

Trying not to attract any attention, I backed out the door, closed it quietly, and then fished my cell phone out of my purse. Rather than hope my usual contact Officer Rodriguez was available, I simply dialed 9-1-1.

A crisp, female voice floated across the phone. “Cherokee County 911, what is your emergency?”

“Hello, I’m Michelle Oaks, a witch and consultant with the Cherokee County Sheriff’s Office. I’m calling because there seems to be some type of magical emergency at Roasted Beans, the coffee shop in the old downtown district. I’m afraid I don’t know the exact address.”

“Don’t worry about the address, I can pull that up.” There was a short pause. “Ms. Oaks, I have verified your status with the sheriff’s office. Is there anyone you would like to have respond to this call?”

I knew who I wanted, but I wasn’t really sure what was needed here.

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