Zoe's only wish is to be able to run barefoot through grass, but she knows it'll never happen. Ever since she was born, she's been unable to touch anything living without it instantly dying. It's a curse she would do anything to get rid of, but that...
The next morning, I sat in a café, sipping on tea from a pink and flowery cup. On the floor next to me, was my bag containing basic magical herbs for emergencies and a whole bunch of food my father had insisted I took with me. He always did that. He would prepare food that would last me weeks, enchant it so it wouldn't go bad, and then force me to take it with me. I always protested, but truth be told, I did like it. Even though I was far from a little girl anymore, but rather a young woman in the standards of a witch's life, it was nice to feel taken care of.
The café was quite big, but had a homey feeling to it. There almost wasn't a single piece of furniture that matched another one. Everything from large armchairs you disappeared into when you sat down, to gangly chairs that looked like they could break by a single touch. I sat in a yellowing armchair by the window. The table in front of me looked more like a bedside table than one you would find in a café. There was one of the gangly chairs on the other side of the table, but it remained empty until I had almost finished my cup of tea.
A young man slid into the chair opposite me. He was handsome and had an air of confidence around him. That was all I needed to see to know his intentions and be forced to control myself so I wouldn't act too rashly. He, however, seemed to want to make sure I knew what he was after, so before he spoke, his eyes lingered on my lips.
"Hi there," he said. "What does a beautiful woman like you do sitting here on your own?"
I hated that about being out in public. Over the years, I had understood that men found me attractive. I couldn't see it really, though I thought it had partly to do with that I was all covered. Probably made me seem alluring to them. Other than that, there wasn't anything special. I always kept my red hair in a tight braid, my eyes were a dull green, and I was skinny to the extent that my cheeks looked hollow.
"Minding my own business," I answered, hoping that he would take the hint.
Of course, he didn't.
"You usually don't come here. Most people here are regulars," he continued.
I wanted to tell him I had been coming there ever since it had been a smoking parlor a hundred years ago. It had quickly become a habit of mine. Always when I had to go to the Library, I would stop by here. So I certainly had to be the most regular customer in there. The place had changed owners, name, and goods over the years. But the view of nature hadn't, and that was why I kept on coming back.
But I knew I couldn't tell him that. I had to keep my composure. It slowly dwindled away, however.
"I suggest you leave me alone now," I said, while focusing on my breathing to remain calm.
"And why is that, sweetie?" he drooled on. His eyes flickered down to my lips.
"Because I really feel like taking my glove off and touch your skin." I muttered it more to myself than him, but he could obviously hear and I knew it was a stupid thing to say. All he would hear was that I wanted to have sex with him and not the death threat it actually was.
And sure enough, his hand started moving forward to touch my cheek. I let it get to an inch from my face before I grabbed hold of his wrist and bent it so a sound of shock and pain left him.
"You shouldn't do that," I hissed and then let all of my power as a witch dance around me, creating an aura of magic. I could see how what had been lust for me a second ago turned to fear. He wouldn't know why, wouldn't know it was magic, being a mere mortal, but he would feel the power and danger radiating from me and know I wasn't one to play with.
"I... I... Sorry," he got out.
The current owner came over to our table. He was a short man with a round belly and most of the time he wore a genuine smile. But at that moment, he looked livid with a tense jaw and narrowed eyes.
"Get out of here and never step a foot inside again," the owner told the man in a tone that left no room for objection.
I let go of the man's wrist, and he did not need to be told twice. Instead, he was so eager to get away from me that he knocked over two chairs as he scrambled out.
"Such a disrespectful man. So sorry Zoe," the owner said, turning to me.
I smiled at him. So that was probably another thing I liked about the place. The first owner I had encountered grew both fond and weary of me and also noticed how I didn't seem to age. When a new owner had taken over, the previous one had told him about me, and so it had continued. Meaning, the owners had always had a healthy amount of respect and admiration for me.
"Don't worry. And you don't have to ban him," I smiled, but the owner shook his head.
"Anyone that irritates you isn't welcome here," the owner simply stated and looked down into my cup. "You're almost out, can I get you some more?"
"Yes, please."
"And I tried a new cake recipe just today. It turned out real good. I'll bring a piece over!"
"That you don't have to," I started refusing, but he waved it off.
"It would be my cake's honor," he said before going to fix a new cup of tea for me and bring me a piece of the cake.
After all of that, I got to drink my new cup of tea and eat the piece of cake without any more interruptions. Instead, my mind could wander freely to my assignment.
Harry Jackson.
I didn't have a lot of information on him. Well, I only knew his name, that he came from a long lineage of witch hunters, and that he seemed to have a vendetta against our coven since he had killed four witches among us in the past two months. The lack of information didn't worry me, though. I knew I could get more. And the first stop for that was the Library. If Harry Jackson came from a long line of witch hunters, the Library would surely have information on him.
So, I paid for my tea and the piece of cake, though the owner tried to refuse my money as always, and walked outside. I cast one last glance at the café. Oak's Tea Room. That was its current name. And when I thought of it, when I first stepped into that place it had been called Oak's Parlor. But that wasn't weird considering the oak forest on the other side of the street from the building.
Oaks really were a lovely type of tree.
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