Penny & Her Heru Ch 3

Rent-A-Witch: Whynot Coven

3 - Epic Stare Downs

The longer we stood on the edge of the courtyard the more overwhelmed I felt. It took everything in me not to turn on my heel and walk away. This morning when I got up my entire goal was to make sure everything went perfectly for Bea. I needed to start drawing a morning Oracle card again; a heads up that a fated mate (one I had no idea existed or was even a possibility) would crash the wedding would have been nice.

I chanced looking at the gargoyle in front of me from under my lashes. His stance wasn't exactly relaxed but it was less rigid than a few minutes ago. My cheeks flushed when he raised one thick eyebrow when our eyes met. It wasn't a full-on challenge, but it was … something. He was waiting for me to do something.

The problem was what exactly he thought was going to happen. I had no idea what to do with a fated mate. My father was as human as a person could be. I think there was a dryad a couple of generations back on his side of the family, but none of her magic made it this far down the family tree. All the females for at least twenty generations on my mom's side were witches. According to the family Grimoire, my great-great-great-grandmother Allison claimed herself a fire elf and their son took after his father, while their daughters were witches who could light candles with a snap of their fingers.

The only thing I had to go off of was what happened when Bea and Venn met. He somehow knew when he saw her wearing the ridiculous pink boa in Turnip Field that she was his Soul Spark. It took kidnapping her to make her listen to him. The fact she could see their bond stretched between them helped.

Unlike Bea who moved to Whynot on purpose, I had zero reason to be in Whynot. I grew up in a small town outside of Savannah, Georgia, and didn’t wish to return to a fishbowl town like it. My plan for the last four years was to get my Merchant Witch License and then open a consulting business in Savannah or Charlotte. Somewhere big enough to have art, food, and music, while being small enough it didn’t require a subway.

Heru's tail brushed against my calf pulling me from my thoughts. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Sitting would be good." I glanced around the mostly empty courtyard. "But not here. Is there a coffee shop nearby?"

Heru gestured toward a tree covered walkway, "After you."

The path meandered through the woods before opening onto a sidewalk on the edge of town. I paused, not knowing which way to go. He rested one hand on my lower back guiding me to the right while making sure he was between the quiet street and myself. He earned a mental point for knowing the sidewalk rule.

The feeling of his hand on my back drove me crazy. Every cell of my body ping-ponged between the way his claws teased my back through my dress and the way the spade at the end of his tail brushed against my ankle as we walked. I focused on the shop windows we passed to stop myself from climbing him like a tree.

Luckily, I held myself together as he led me down several streets before he stopped in front of a small cafe with beige gingham curtains in the windows. The inside was just as charming as the outside. It was decorated in soft neutrals and dark wood. All kinds of plants were spread around the dining room in terra cotta pots. The waitresses wore matching aprons with the shop’s logo embroidered on the chest over tee shirts and jeans. It was the type of place people went for a quiet lunch to read, or a mom group might meet during nap time. It was not the type of place I expected a crowd of guys who looked like they were attending a war council to be seated at every table except for one.

The fact every one of the males watched us as we stood near the door waiting to be seated made me want to walk right back to the Gatehouse and take a mirror back to Salem. But I didn’t. Growing up in a sanctuary town outside of Savannah had its perks. The biggest one was learning early in life to never be the first to look away from anyone. To look away first meant you submitted, that you recognized the other being as more than you. More important, more dominant. The only person I have ever submitted to was my mother. Everyone else could fluff off.

An orc at the closest table leaned forward staring me down, I raised one eyebrow and snorted. Nothing gross or pig-like, just a 'ha, gotta try harder than that' kind of snort. He jerked his chin and turned his attention to the menu in front of him. The two orcs at his table switched their focus from me to the rest of the room.

I shifted my attention to a table full of men the size of brick houses wearing flannel and beanies. Chances were good they were shifters, probably bears of some kind judging by their sheer size. The one with his back to the corner tipped up the corner of his mouth before saluting me with two fingers. His table mates jerked their chins then relaxed.

A minotaur sat at a table by himself. I crossed my arms when he didn't acknowledge it was his turn in my stare-down war. Between the massive horns, their size, and the general malice minotaur’s gave off, most people were afraid of them. If I didn't have a gargoyle at my back who was bigger than him, I might have been too. Eventually, he nodded to Heru before waving at the group of waitresses.

The urge to look away first niggled at me when I faced the last table. Five cyclops scowled at me. As a rule, they don't go out without glamor spells. Each one had a baseball-sized eye in the center of his forehead, a small squat nose was squished between his eye, and a garish mouth full of crooked green teeth. Three of them were openly snarling like rabid dogs. The largest one sat with his arms crossed on the table leaning towards us. The feeling of hatred from him was so strong I felt like I could touch it. The last cyclops was different. He was smaller than the rest, sat slightly away from the others, and his one eye kept darting between all the males in the room, but never at me.

The minotaur called the name of one of the waitresses again without success. They were smart enough to realize things could go sideways at any second and were not going to be caught in the crosshairs.

The spell was broken when a female dwarf came out of the kitchen brandishing a wooden spoon. She scowled at the room at large.

"I don't know what you boys think you are doing take up tables in my place without ordering anything." She pointed her spoon at the shifty-eyed cyclops when he tried to say something. "Don't you say a word. You all know the rules. If you come in here you use your manners, you clear your plate, and you tip your waitress at least thirty percent. If you don’t, you answer to me, then I’ll call your mommas, and you’ll answer to them."

She made eye contact with every man in the room – except the cyclops still trying to make me submit – then waved the waitresses back to work. I watched from the side of my eye as she moved to stand between us.

"Did you not just hear what I said?"

He muttered something I couldn't understand but I could see over her head that he shifted his attention to her. Technically neither of us submitted to the other because she broke the stare-down, but I still counted it as a win.

A thrill went through me when Heru pressed his chest against my back. I took it for a silent attaboy for holding my own in a room of powerful Other males.

I smiled at the dwarf when she turned around, it was hard not to. She reminded me of Mrs. Claus. All she needed was a red dress lined with white fur. A long gray braid was coiled on top of her head, little round glasses were perched on her nose, and the spoon was just the perfect touch.

"Heru, I didn't expect you to come in today. I thought you would be at the celebration after the bonding ceremony."

"Glenda, may I introduce my mate."

Conscious of the fact that everyone – including the waitresses – was listening to every word out of his mouth I smiled and held my tongue. Later we would talk about just announcing personal business to hostile rooms.

She studied me before nodding to herself. "You seem like a perfect mate for a gargoyle chief. To celebrate lunch is on me."

"Thank you, Glenda, I'm sure anything from your kitchen would rival my grandmother’s cooking.”

She preened under my compliment and waved her spoon in the air. A waitress appeared behind her with a forced smile.

"Come next Tuesday. I’ll make my mother's pierogi."

I nodded without committing to anything. I had no idea if I would even be in Whynot next Tuesday.

The nod was enough for the dwarf to turn on her heel and march back to her kitchen.

The shifters gave me a slow clap, and the minotaur a thumbs up. The orcs got up and left each doing the forearm grasp thing men do with Heru on their way out. The only ones who held onto the anger and tension from before were the cyclops. They left when we sat without acknowledging they were still seething at the table.

There was a story there, but I needed to get to know Heru before I decided if I needed to know it or not.

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