Chimes at Midnight

Tybalt took another step before the sudden drag of my arm on his pulled him to a halt. He stopped and frowned, following my gaze to the nearest storefront. “October, I love you, and I understand that we all have our quirks. I’m even willing to wait while you acquire the coffee you so obviously need. But I do not think that standing here staring at the coffeehouse will cause a beverage to appear.”


“You don’t understand.” I glanced at him, and then back to the storefront, like I was afraid it might disappear. I was afraid it might disappear. “I know every coffee shop in a two-mile radius of my house. I know how much they charge, how good their coffee is, and what their hours are like.”

“And?”

“And I’ve never seen this place before.” According to the sign in the window, accompanied by a logo that looked like an ouroboros—a red snake eating its own tail—this was the Borderlands Café. I scooped the firefly off my lapel and tucked it into the pocket of my jacket. Hopefully, the little bug was sturdy enough that it wouldn’t be squashed. “Can you see anything glowing through my clothes? I don’t want to spook the locals if we can help it.”

“Hmm.” Tybalt stepped back, taking an ostentatiously long look up and down my body. I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. He raised a finger to silence any objections I might be preparing and continued his study. Finally, he nodded, looking smug, and said, “Nothing but your sparkling personality.”

“You can be a real dick when you want to,” I said. “Why am I dating you again?”

“Leather pants,” he deadpanned.

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.

“And that, too, is my saving grace: I make you laugh when you spend far too much time wrapped in the shroud of your own dignity.” He placed a kiss on my forehead. “If I may be so bold, now would be an excellent time for you to get a cup of coffee.”

“Best hiding place ever,” I agreed, opened the screen door, and stepped inside.

The Borderlands Café was a long, rectangular room, stretching past the kitchen area to meet with the back wall. The floor was polished hardwood, and the furniture was an eclectic mix of wooden tables, comfortable chairs, and even couches. It was surprisingly busy, considering the hour. People sat with their laptop computers, magazines, books, or in small clusters, sipping their drinks and talking. It lacked the hectic air of many of the local cafés—something that was probably connected to the signs saying “No Wifi.” People who wanted to hang out in a coffee shop would stay, people who wanted to get online for free would go find someplace more suited to their tastes.

We approached the counter, where a large blond man in a black T-shirt proclaiming “Carnies Need Love Too” was wiping glasses with a rag. He beamed when he saw us, showing a daunting number of teeth in the process.

“Hi!” he said, setting the glass aside. “Welcome to Borderlands. What can I get you?”

I glanced at the menu on the wall. “A large coffee.”

“Two large coffees,” amended Tybalt.

The blond man nodded, smile fading as he focused on our order. “Here or to go?”

“Here.” We needed time to figure out where Arden was, or whether the firefly had sensed my need for caffeine and simply led us to a coffee shop someone had, for whatever reason, decided to hide from most of the city.

“Should I leave room for cream and sugar?”

“Yes on his, no on mine,” I said, producing my wallet. “Hey—how long has this place been here?”

“Oh, a couple of years. The bookstore was here first, and then the owner got bored and decided to open a café.” The blond man beamed again, showing, if possible, even more teeth than before. “Alan gets bored easy.”

I paused. “There’s a bookstore?”

“Yeah, next door.” The blond man pointed to the wall where the menu was posted. “It’s through there. Alan says he’s going to open up a door between them any day now, but he’s been busy. You know. Owner stuff.”

“Right, owner stuff,” I said. “You know, I’d love to see the bookstore. When do they open?”

“Oh, they just opened.” He beamed. “You have great timing.”

“So I’ve been told,” I said, and smiled back. “Could we get that coffee to go?”

Unsurprisingly, it turned out that we could.





NINE