The café became a warm hug in the middle of the snowstorms, bringing Ontarians in to gather, eat, talk, laugh, and frankly, ogle. Kate listened to their chatter as she ran her fingers along the bookshelf beside the counter. She imagined stories there that would comfort strangers passing through, bring them back for more captivating chapters, and spark conversations among the regulars. She imagined stories about strong fae assassins, burgundy-haired humans, and fairy princes. She imagined making knit book sleeves for the books and mug cozies to keep customers’ coffees warm while they read. But there was one problem with that.
“You can not go to knitting club, Human. I forbid it.”
The words Cress said over and over for the rest of the week.
It was like he thought he was her Prince and had the right to make absurd royal fae decrees around the café. Kate either pretended she didn’t hear when he gave her instructions, or blatantly disobeyed just to see his reaction. Every second of his tightening skin, thinning lips, and narrowing turquoise eyes was worth it.
It seemed the fae weren’t leaving, even after Kate gave them permission to. They never explained why, they just kept working, kept cleaning, kept studying the recipe books and baking odd little pastries they called things like, “Folk Bites” and “Mischief Bombs.”
Kate slept on the couch at Lily’s place since her apartment had been invaded by assassins. But even though things were beyond busy with the café and Lily’s police shifts, it was nice to spend the late nights together sipping steaming nighttime tea and looking out at the stars.
Kate and Lily arrived at the café together in the mornings. The only one who wouldn’t smile was Dranian, but even so, the assassin had the entire menu memorized and could mix a drink faster than any human. Shayne invited customers in with warm, dazzling fae smiles that probably left the ladies weak at the knees and the men slightly terrified. Mor kept to himself as he tidied up tables and swept the floors, stifling closed-mouthed smiles whenever Cress tired out the fastest and took afternoon “royal naps” on one of the chairs by the fireplace. Shayne usually snuck over to join him, creating a calendar-worthy picture by a toasty, crackling fire.
At ten p.m. each night, the fae locked the door, poured fresh lattes, and relit the fireplace. Everyone sat around the bistro tables to talk about whatever obscure things popped into the fae’s heads. Lily asked peculiar questions, and the fae answered what they could, though, sometimes it seemed like their tongues were stuck when she got snoopy about certain parts of where they came from.
Kate constantly felt the warm touches of Cress’s stare on her back. Throughout the days, he asked Kate small, quiet questions like, “What is the purpose of dish soap when water cleans the human goblets just fine?” and “Why do you read such boring literature?” and “Which of my assassins is your least favourite? I want to see if we picked the same one.”
The snow roared in like a beast, coming all at once and covering Toronto with a blanket of white. University classes were cancelled for most of the week, but somehow coffee drinkers kept showing up. Parking along the street got overcrowded, and Lily was forced to go apologize to the neighbouring stores about it.
On Tuesday evening, Kate sat down by the crackling fireplace with her laptop and a steaming Ca-FAE Mocha. She rubbed her tired eyes as Cress took the seat across from her.
“What are you doing?” He studied her laptop suspiciously.
“Taxes,” Kate said.
Cress tugged the computer over to himself and made a face as he looked it over. “You must pay all of this coin?”
Kate nodded and laid her head down on the table. “I can’t stare at that screen anymore.”
“Wait a faeborn minute.” Cress’s fist dropped to the tabletop, and Kate jumped. “You must pay taxes on the coin you earn, and then you must pay taxes again when you spend the coin you earn, and then you must pay taxes on—”
“It doesn’t make sense. Don’t try to understand it,” Kate advised, sitting back.
“This is preposterous.”
“Yes.” Kate dragged her latte over and took a sip.
Cress thought for a moment, his jaw sliding back and forth. He jabbed a few buttons on the keyboard and Kate leaned to try and see what he was doing to her carefully laid out spreadsheet.
“Here.” Cress turned the computer back around with a new screen up.
“What is this?” Kate looked over the document. “Wait… is this my novel?!” She grabbed the computer and dragged it closer. “What did you do?”
“I fixed it.” Cress pulled his shoulder into a shrug. “Your writing is ghastly.”
“My writing is awesome!” Kate objected.
“Says who?”
“Well… Some people.”
A wide, doubtful smile spread across Cress’s face. “Some of the words you use don’t mean what you think they mean. Read what I wrote.” He tapped the computer screen.
Kate’s jaw jutted out as she scanned over her story. Her eyes caught on certain words. Eloquent words. Mystifying words. Her face relaxed when she got to the next paragraph. She read until the end of the first chapter before she looked back up at the fae Prince.
“Fine. This is good,” she admitted. “I mean it’s still mostly my writing, you basically just softened it up around the edges.”
There was a knock on the café door, and a postman set a box outside. The post vehicle drove off.
“Did we order something?” Kate called to Lily sorting receipts at the counter.
“My mugs!” Shayne burst from the kitchen and sprinted to the door, flinging it open. He dragged the damp, snow-dusted box inside, and when the tape seemed too tricky to rip with his fingers, he bit the edge of the box and tore half the lid right off with his teeth.
“Unreal,” Lily murmured from the counter.
Shayne drew the first mug out and flicked off the packaging as Kate came over. “Look, Humans!” he shouted, handing it to Kate. The heavy mug had a matte-like stone texture. Across it were words in bold burgundy text: FAE CAFÉ.
“Aren’t they delightful?” Shayne took another one out. He gazed at it for a moment, then he kissed it.
“I guess the name is official.” Kate smirked over at Lily, who smirked back.
Shayne carried the box to the counter and began unpacking each mug. He even grabbed the scrubby from the back counter to wash them. It was the first time Kate had seen him wash something well. “I picked this colour to match your hair,” he told Kate with pride.
Cress stole Kate’s computer again before she could stop him. He squinted as he looked from the keyboard to the screen. He pecked at the keys with his pointer fingers, and Kate cringed.
“Did you edit the entire story like that?” she asked.
Cress looked up from the computer. “Of course. It took me all week. I’ve only fixed it up to the third chapter.” He went back to his pecking.
“It didn’t need to be fixed,” she mumbled, but he ignored her.
Kate spotted a girl with orange-red hair moving into the alley across the street. The girl didn’t have a hat, or a scarf, or mitts. She disappeared in the shadow of the buildings where gusts of wind blew snow into small heaps.
“I’ll be right back,” Kate said, heading for the door.
“Take your coat! It’s freezing outside!” Lily’s voice faded as Kate pushed out of the café and crossed the road into the alley. She clutched her arms to herself and shivered as she followed the redhead up the stairs to the apartment door.
“Hey!” Kate stopped her.
The redhead turned. She looked Kate over without smiling. “You’re the girl who almost got my boyfriend in trouble,” she said, but then paused. “Well. Ex-boyfriend.” She pulled out a set of keys.
“I came to apologize for all that,” Kate said, rubbing the back of her neck.
The redhead stepped inside but left the door open behind her, so Kate stepped in, clasping her cold, bare hands.
“I actually own the café across the street. The guys I work with could probably keep an eye on you if you wanted to shake off a few… you know… bad ex-boyfriends or whatever.” Kate chewed on her lip, sure it sounded odd. “I’m just trying to say that if you’re ever in trouble, you can come over and we’ll have your back.”
“Do I seem that helpless to you?” the girl asked.
Kate’s mouth moved but no answer came out.
A large, strong body appeared out of thin air in the girl’s apartment.
The redhead screamed.
“Mor!” Kate shouted. “What are you doing?!” Kate tried to intervene as the girl grabbed a frying pan and swung it.
The pan struck Mor’s forehead. He reeled back with a growl, threw a coat at Kate, then vanished again.
The redhead stood frozen, gripping the pan above her head and staring at the spot where Mor had just been. Kate rubbed her temples as she walked over and picked up her coat. “Sorry about that, too.”
The redhead spun. Annoyance coated her eyes. “Apology accepted. But I won’t be coming anywhere near your café. You people are seriously messed up.”
Kate sighed. “Yeah, I know,” she said. She paused on her way out. “Listen, if you ever change your mind, Fae Café has warm coffee and a place to talk.”
She pulled the girl’s apartment door closed behind her when she left, sealing herself out with the cold.
On a humid night, Katherine Lewis had been listening to music with her headphones on while sleeping in the backseat of her parents’ car. The weather was an odd mush of melting snow on the roadsides, along with a late fall thunderstorm lighting up the sky in unpredictable flashes. There was so much rain, so much thunder, and so much noise. Only Kate’s music was enough to drown it out.
But the car smashing was the loudest sound of all.
There were things about that day Kate didn’t remember. Parts of the accident happened too fast. Other parts became frozen in time like a museum of dark pictures trapped in ice lining the walls of Kate’s memories.
She didn’t remember seeing the headlights of the oncoming car. She didn’t remember being dragged out of the car or being taken to the hospital. She didn’t remember most of what happened in the numb, cold days that followed.
But she remembered the girl with orange-red hair being pulled from the backseat of the other car.
Kate trudged back through the snow to the café. She found Mor sitting on the counter inside, scowling with ice pressed against his forehead. “She slugged me with a human oven pan,” he accused Kate when she came in.
Cress hovered by the door with his arms folded. As Lily babied Mor and passed him a bandage with a slightly sarcastic look of sympathy, Cress leaned forward to whisper in Kate’s ear.
“Don’t go outside alone again, Human.” His tone was dark. “Don’t go anywhere I can’t see you if you’re alone.”
Kate sighed. “You’re bossy.”
His hands found Kate’s waist. Cress pulled her into the narrow hallway and placed her against the wall, taking her shoulders and pinning them there. He looked angry.
“What? You have to admit that you are bossy—”
“This isn’t a jest,” he said. “Shadow Fairies aren’t to be underestimated, Human.”
“You said I don’t need to concern myself with those fairies. And you said the two that followed us at the mall would no longer be a problem.” Kate tilted her head. “What’s really bothering you? You’re not actually my boyfriend, Cress. We were only pretending.”
“Of course I know that. What are you suggesting?” He forced a revulsed face, but his eye twitched.
“So, then why are you so upset that I went outside for like three seconds by myself?” Kate asked.
Cress’s throat bobbed. His bright eyes flickered down to her mouth for just a second, and his hands suddenly felt warm on her shoulders.
Kate’s heart did a strange twist at the look on his face. “Wait…” she rasped and lifted a finger between them. Time seemed to stand still. “Don’t do that.”
Cress’s eyes flickered between hers. He didn’t deny anything.
“The last time you kissed me, it was for a trick.”
“Yes,” he admitted in a low, detached voice. His hands slid off her shoulders and into his pockets. “That was purely the reason. I have nothing to gain by doing it again. I’m at this café for other reasons.”
Kate released an uneven chuckle. “Wait a minute, you’re not actually starting to fall in love with—”
Cress’s hand slapped over her mouth, halting her words. His eyes were wide.
They stood there like that, frozen in place, until Kate reached up and peeled his fingers away. “—the café,” she finished. “I was asking if you were starting to fall in love with the café.”
The Prince blinked a few times. “Yes, of course. That was totally obvious,” he said. His breathing seemed heavier.
Kate hoped his super hearing couldn’t pick up her pounding heart. “Right…” Without another word about it, she turned and headed back to the others, not really seeing where she was going. She slumped onto a stool at the counter. She was very aware of Cress existing somewhere behind her. Every movement she made felt like too much.
After minutes of numbly listening to Lily and Mor bicker, Kate glanced back to the hallway. It looked empty. “Where’d Cress go?” she asked.
Lily and Mor stopped talking. Shayne and Dranian looked up from where they fought for foot space on the single foot stool between the fireplace chairs.
Mor’s brows pulled together as he sniffed. “He’s gone,” he seemed to realize. He moved around the counter and went to the door to peer out at the descending blizzard filling the streets. The wind had picked up since Kate was out; it nearly roared now.
Mor gave Kate an odd look as he came back in and stood over her on the barstool. “You smell of worry, Human,” he said. “Your rhythm is racing.” It sounded like an accusation.
Instead of asking what in the world he meant, Kate turned away and reached for an indistinguishable coffee beverage on the counter that seemed to have no owner. She sipped it, then coughed it back out when she realized it was cold.
Mor hovered for a moment, saying nothing. Finally, he gave up his interrogation and joined the others at the fireplace. They spoke in hushed tones.
Lily slid over a fresh, steaming mug toward Kate to replace the cold one. But she held the drink in place when Kate tried to accept it. “What’s he talking about?” she asked.
Kate’s gaze flickered up to her friend. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not sure what I feel right now.”
Lily folded her arms. Her tattoos seemed a little tighter than normal.
“Un-real, Kate,” she whispered. “You’ve got eyes for that pushy, entitled, fairy-tale Prince.”
The pulse in Kate’s chest tumbled off beat, and she dropped her eyes to the beverage before her. After a moment of cowering beneath Lily’s expression, Kate took a long, uncomfortable sip. It felt like ages before Lily finally went back to sorting receipts.
