Welcome to Fae Cafe (High Court of the Coffee Bean Book 1)

The thing about Kate Kole, was that Kate Kole’s name did not exist. And though false names may not matter in some situations—such as the introduction of acquaintances, social media personalities, pen names for novels, and the like—in this story, it mattered a great deal.

As summer escaped into the cracks of the world and autumn brushed over Toronto with chilly kisses and a mosaic of red and orange leaves, a human girl with burgundy hair was tucked into the corner of a coffee shop with her nose in a book. The collar of her favourite yellow sweater kept her warm and hid the mountain tattoo on her neck. But despite what it may have looked like, Kate Kole wasn’t there for the coffee.

The air smelled of freshly baked croissants and ground coffee beans, complete with the warm fragrance of a small neighbourhood atmosphere even though the coffee shop rested in the middle of the city. Seniors and young adults moved about in pairs or groups, laughing and sipping, pulling out textbooks and poking at their phone screens. The sounds were music to Kate’s ears as she laid her thick novel flat, pressing down to crack the spine, and pulled out a pen to jot notes in the margin. After she crossed out her notes twice and rewrote them until they were perfect, she slid her pen away and lifted her book again. She read the words out loud, quietly of course, but with just enough volume that people passing by might assume she was crazy and weird and wouldn’t try to take the open seat across from her at her table.

Her phone buzzed. She ignored it and flipped a page.

The bell by the door rattled and cool air rushed into the warm space. Kate glanced up from her novel.

A guy entered and headed to the counter.

Kate couldn’t look away. The guy’s tight black suit looked like armour from a fantasy movie, and he wore a scowl like he’d stepped in something gross. For a moment, Kate couldn’t decide if he was the arrogant, self-indulged, fraternity-type or a total fanfiction-obsessed nerd. On one hand, he was gorgeous—his eyes sparkled a light brown-gold—but on the other hand, his outfit…

She wondered if it would be inappropriate or illegal to snap a picture while he wasn’t looking. This was the sort of hilarious thing that might have the power to lift her spirits later if she ever had a bad day.

“Get me a beverage,” the guy said to the young girl behind the counter. He snapped his fingers in her face, then folded his arms and released a growly huff. Kate lowered her book, watching.

So, arrogant and self-indulged it was then.

“What do you want?” the cashier girl asked in a voice that was nicer than what the guy deserved.

The guy’s huff was so loud, Kate was sure he created a bigger windstorm than what currently swept over Toronto. “What do I want? What do I want? I want a beverage!” He slapped his hand on the counter and knocked over a cup of straws. He didn’t pick them up.

Kate dropped her eyes back to the pages of her novel. She dragged her pen out and clicked it a dozen times over.

“It’s not my problem,” she mumbled to herself, transforming back into the crazy, weird girl who no one wanted to sit with. “Let it go. Let it go,” she chanted. She almost turned it into a song.

The girl behind the counter tapped buttons on the cash register and said to the guy, “You need to pick something from the menu.” She pointed to the chalk board listing two dozen caffeinated drinks that ranged from dark roasted beans to milk-based to whipped-cream-topped.

The guy’s golden gaze twitched over the options. “Caramel… frappe… mocha… tall…” He muttered through the list like he’d never spoken the words “caramel” or “mocha” in his nerdy life. “Macc-ee-ya-to?” he tried, and Kate stifled a snort-laugh.

The guy closed his mouth, settled his glower back on the cashier, and growled, “Are you deaf, you foolish female? I said I’d like a beverage. Or are you just daft?”

Kate slapped the book shut.

She rose and folded her arms, tucking her cozy Bella Stone mystery novel under her elbow. She sauntered over to where the golden-eyed guy glared at the pink-cheeked cashier who fumbled through an apology. Kate casually poked a metal napkin dispenser on the counter, turning it so the morning sun reflected into the guy’s pretty eyes. The guy winced against the glaring light.

“You could be nicer. She’s only human, you know,” Kate said.

His watery golden eyes snapped toward Kate. “Exactly,” he muttered in disgust. He shoved the napkin dispenser off the counter, sending a loud tin-like clatter through the coffee shop.

Kate blinked at him slowly.

The cashier slid a coffee over the counter with shaking hands, and the guy released another windy huff. “Finally. What a dull-witted servant,” he mumbled, and Kate grabbed the coffee first.

“You should leave,” she said to him.

The guy’s glare sharpened. He reached for the coffee anyway, but Kate’s fingers tightened around it when he tried to take it.

“If you want this, then pay her.” Kate nodded toward the cashier. “And tip her well for ruining her morning. Then you can have it.”

A strange heat filled the space around the counter. For a second, Kate wondered why in the world she came over here. She stole a glance at the red-faced cashier who didn’t look like she had it in her to ask the guy to pay.

When Kate showed no signs of lifting her hand, the guy’s nostrils flared. “I don’t have coins,” he said through a snarl, and Kate huffed a raspy laugh.

“You mean to tell me that you waltzed in here with that sanctimonious attitude and expected to get this for free? Are you just discourteous or do you have a forbearance disorder? Is your brain a miniscule raisin?” She chose big words on purpose, though she wasn’t sure if it made her sound smart. Or if she’d used any of them correctly.

The guy tore the coffee away, and Kate shrieked. Hot liquid branded her fingers and left a flower-shaped puddle on the counter.

“I’ll be off, then,” the guy announced.

He turned to leave, and heat flushed Kate’s neck. Her fingers tightened around her book. The next thing she knew, she was throwing Bella Stone at the back of his head. The thwack of a cozy manuscript hitting a complete arse had a nice tune to it.

The guy’s coffee splattered to the floor along with Kate’s novel. The coffee shop went dead quiet, the only sounds left being the muffled car engines outside and Kate’s heavy breathing. If the coffee drinkers didn’t already assume Kate was weird and crazy by her morning of mumbling out loud, they would now. Her table would be hers forever.

“You’re not leaving until you apologize,” Kate said from a dry throat, shrinking beneath three dozen alarmed stares. She jutted her thumb toward the pale-faced cashier. “You can’t just treat people like that—”

The guy whirled, and Kate jumped at the look in his eyes. She couldn’t pull her stare away from the poisonous lustre of hungry death glowering back at her. Her mouth moved, but the words she wanted were frozen on her tongue. She managed to squeak out, “I—”

He charged.

Kate stumbled back into the counter as the guy’s splayed fingers rushed toward her throat. Her body jerked into the only martial arts move she remembered, and she kicked him.

Her strike landed harder than she meant it to. She watched in dismay as the guy wheeled backward, his arms spinning as he slipped on the spilled coffee and flew into the nearest table.

When his head struck the tabletop, the thud was loud enough to drown out the bustling city noise. His limbs went slack, and he rolled onto the floor, his golden eyes staring up at nothing.

Time slowed. A tense silence rang through the café like an icy breath of winter wind.

A woman shrieked in the corner.

The cashier behind the counter gasped.

The sudden urge to barf up the croissant daily special onto the floor trickled into Kate’s abdomen as it became apparent to the early morning coffee drinkers that Kate Kole had just killed someone.