The Witch's Curse

Fiona plopped a square ice cube into the glass.

“Have you been feeling anything strange lately?” Tamara asked.

Half Moon Bar was just getting into that New York night bustle when Fiona felt Tamara tap her on the shoulder while she was preparing a drink.

Fiona was focused on making the mint julep, topping the chunks of ice with a couple of sprigs of mint. She sat it on the bar and slid it across to the young lady who’d just ordered it.

Fiona raised her eyebrows and squinted at her worker. “You mean, like, am I sick or something?”

“Nah, I mean, like… have you noticed anything strange about the atmosphere?”

Fiona glanced around the bar. As she was scanning, she caught a glimpse of a tanned, dark-haired man looking directly at her.

She faltered in his gaze for a moment, stunned by the intensity with which he was examining her. Her heart shrunk nervously, which made her want to look away.

“So you haven’t felt that guy staring at you for the last ten minutes?” Tamara asked.

Fiona raked her hands through her hair and tossed it back over her shoulder. She snuck a peek at the man again to find that he was still looking at her, this time with a smug, half-smile on his lips.

Fiona scoffed and rolled her eyes. He was cute, alright, but if he wanted anything from her, he’d have to do more than look at her longingly from across the room.

She braved another look at him, focusing this time on his aura. It was pulsing red. Sometimes that was a warning, though it usually just meant the person had a fiery, energetic personality.

There was something about him, she thought. He was stirring something up in her and she couldn’t tell if it was the witch, the wolf, or the human part of her that was suddenly so intrigued by him. She chose to play it off for the time being.

“We don’t get guys like him in here very often. He’s kinda sexy in a westerner way,” Tamara teased.

“Go take his order, will ya? Maybe he’s just hungry,” Fiona said, patting her waitress on the shoulder.

Tamara grinned at her. “Oh, I bet he’s hungry,” she growled promiscuously. “Tell me again, how much does it cost to get a piece of you?”

Fiona heard Javier, the main bartender, chortle from behind her. She chose to ignore him. And she wasn’t even going to give Tamara the pleasure of seeing her laugh either.

Fiona put on her boss face and waved Tamara off with her hand. This was Fiona’s bar and that meant she was the one to call the shots.

The boss life was difficult for Fiona sometimes since she was only twenty-five and most of the people she hired were also in their twenties and they all tried to treat her more like a buddy than anything. But that was okay. She liked the camaraderie.

Tamara was a bit younger, about twenty-four, and Javier had just turned twenty-six a few months before. She gave him a playful glare.

Like Tamara, Javier was non-magical, but he could communicate almost telepathically just by shaping his eyebrows in a certain way. Right then he was telling Fiona that she should check out the hot guy or he was going to beat her to the punch.

Fiona glanced behind her again at the man who had been staring at her. This time he was preoccupied. Tamara was chatting him up, doing what a good bar waitress does. She grinned and giggled and smacked her bubble gum.

For a moment, Fiona felt an intense and unexpected fit of jealousy watching the two of them.

But why would she be disappointed that this stranger no longer had his eyes on her?

Fiona rolled her eyes at herself. It wasn’t like she didn’t get a lot of guys’ attention on a nightly basis anyway. She knew some of the regular flirts, and she’d let a guy take her home every now and again, though she didn’t want to make it a habit to spend the night with strangers.

This guy was no different than them, at least… he didn’t seem to be from around here anyway. The way he was dressed was a bit different than a typical New Yorker.

He wore jeans with a t-shirt and a plaid shirt layered over it. Lots of New York men dressed in business casual attire when they came out to the bar. They were probably looking to show off to the ladies that they had a lot of money or something.

Fiona wondered what this guy, the stranger, was up to. What did he want? Why was she suddenly intrigued by him?

She looked into his reflection in the mirror above the wall of liquor. While she was wiping off a freshly cleaned glass, Tamara snuck up behind her. “I thought maybe he was desperate,” she said, ripping off the paper with the guy’s order, “but I guess he just likes the looks of you. I can usually get them to flirt back with me, but he didn’t budge. He just smiled all polite-like with his attention redirected to you.”

A feeling of giddiness and pride snuck up into Fiona’s chest. She didn’t let herself look at him again, though she couldn’t help but wonder if he was still looking at her.

“You should take his food to him when it’s done,” Tamara suggested. “I’m sure he’d appreciate an excuse to talk to you.”

Part of Fiona wanted to make him come to her if he was so interested, but then again, she was busy getting orders and making drinks at the bar. Actually, she had a few people waiting on her.

She left Tamara to her work, peeking at the order number before going to check on her customers.

“You gonna talk to him?” Javier asked as he was preparing a margarita for a lady. He flung his signature black towel over his shoulder and bumped Fiona with his elbow.

“Psh… He’s cute and all, but he’s not even making a move. All he’s done is look at me with those piercing eyes…” she said, a pleasant shudder creeping up her spine. She shook it off and stared at the bottle of rum in her hands. What was she doing?

The bell for the food rang, pulling Fiona back to reality. Maybe she would go talk to him. If she got closer she’d be able to find out more about him.

There were too many people in the bar for her to tell if he was a magical person or not, so she could at least find that much out by getting closer to him so she could better sense his aura. Maybe she’d ask his name… Maybe find out where he was from…

Tamara was making a move toward the plate of fries and a burger, number thirty-three. That was his order number.

Fiona shoved the bottle of rum into Javier’s hands and took off. She didn’t even bother to apologize when she heard him grunt and tsk at her.

She needed to get to that plate of food before Tamara did. It was the only inconspicuous way to talk to approach him.

Right before Tamara’s fingertips touched the edge of the plate, Fiona swooped in and grabbed it. She had always been light on her feet.

Her dad was always so proud of her for excelling in hand-to-hand combat, she just didn’t have a lot of reasons to use those skills. This wasn’t exactly one of those moments, but it still came in handy.

With the plate balanced in her palm, she bravely approached the man. As she got close, she could make out the color of his eyes. They were a rich, chocolatey brown, almost the same color as his hair. He grinned as she approached, a dimple emerging in his right cheek.

And there was something else… his scent…

“I was hoping you’d come over here,” he said, his voice low and gently.

Fiona couldn’t hold back the light, airy half-laugh that escaped her. No wonder she felt attracted to him.

He was a wolf, too.