Claws and Curses

Aiden Beaker

The sunlight pierced through the cafe’s large windows, turning the lounge area into a bright yellow shade. It burned my eyes, but I couldn’t look away. My job as a cashier forced me to stare into the early morning light and the customers. I sighed, my hands planted on the smooth, cold marble counter.

Jake Cohen, a man nearing his sixties, was kind enough to hire me, a twenty-eight-year-old man. I appreciated his kindness, but I couldn’t appreciate why he chose the cashier role for me. I could’ve been a dishwasher or brewed some coffee. But no, I got the cashier spot, forced to listen to orders that get complicated the longer someone spoke.

Since beginning my day shift, five customers extended their orders. Some couldn’t decide if they wanted our autumn special or our limited edition drinks. Jake entered the area and persuaded three customers to go for our special, an iced maple coffee drink—in any size—with a half-dozen pumpkin spice croissants. Sounds delicious, but I’m not a fan of pumpkin.

Now, I sighed deeper, removed my hands from the counter, and glanced at the doorway. People of all species walked along the sidewalk, basking in the nice weather. Whether they were human, a vampire, a werewolf, or a fairy, they lived in Richmond, New York. It’s also where my association was.

Peter Pines sent me a notification about a discussion with all warlocks tonight. I texted back, saying I’ll be there as I don’t have a night shift. At least, that was one positive about the cashier spot Jake gave me. Someone else would take my spot during the night shift while I attended the Association of Warlocks and Mages’ discussion.

The door squeaked open, and I groaned at who entered. A young woman with curly red hair, glistening gold eyes, and a sturdy stature of six foot three inches. Linda Lyon.

“Hey there, Mr. Dull. Can I get a large iced coffee, no sugar?”

Every damn morning, Linda would call me “Mr. Dull” because of how plain I looked. Brown hair, small yellow eyes, a scrawny but firm frame, wore casual clothes, and a generic voice, I was close to that plain guy image.

“Of course, and anything else?”

“Nah, I’m preparing myself for the annual weight-lifting competition.” Linda flexed her muscles in a couple of poses I dreaded. “Don’t want to fill my stomach with carbs and sweets. You should eat a few donuts, Mr. Dull.”

She smirked, leaned against the counter, and growled. Our eyes connected, but I felt no urgency to talk back. Linda tried to get a reaction out of me. Insulting my looks, bragging about her strength, and mentioning how she’ll take over the Lyon Tribe one day were examples of this pattern.

But I was smarter than her, a simple lion shifter.

“Note taken, Ms. Lyon. Allow me to send your order to our barista.”

Linda scoffed, then flicked a strand of hair behind her back, walking to a table.

Ten minutes later, I presented a large cup of iced coffee to Linda. When she strode to the counter, she snatched it from my hands and smirked wider. “Not bad, Mr. Dull. Faster than the last time I ordered.”

“No, it was exactly ten minutes. You order the same drink every Monday and Wednesday.”

My memory was nothing to gloss over; I remembered every order a regular at the Sweet Desires had. Linda, unfortunately, was one I remembered the most.

“Whatever. I’m leaving.”

She turned and walked to the door, but before leaving, she looked over her shoulder, that smirk still plastered on her face. “A noteworthy advice, Mr. Dull. Change yourself and maybe.” She tilted her head. “You’ll get a girlfriend.”

My heart pulsated as if something had stabbed it. Cheeks grew warm; my fingers tingled, and my palms got all clammy. With my jaw clenched tight, I stared at Linda as she left the cafe. She came this close to setting me off. I don’t know why she insulted warlocks.

It was because of us that Richmond and the entire human race were alive and thriving. She had fucking nerves to bother me. A few deep breaths, and I released the tension. I wasn’t in the mood to argue or yell at shifters. However, shifters are the reason I’m so bitter. Just seeing them come to this cafe reminded me of her. The woman who broke my heart four months ago.

Eight pm and I trudged down the cobblestone hallways of the AW&M’s headquarters. Supernatural residents of Richmond could see our location, though humans could not. I should question the high master about why fairies, witches, and shifters need to know where our headquarters is. Then again, he and the founders of the AW&M were busy warlocks. I mustn’t disturb their work.

My robe, a necessary uniform all junior warlocks wore, flapped behind me as I walked further down the hallway. I saw Peter Pines standing near one of the interrogation chambers. He noticed me, then smiled, waving a hand.

“You got my text?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

Peter patted my shoulder. “You sound moody, Aiden. Did something happen today?”

“The usual.”

We strode down the hallway to the discussion chamber. There were many interrogation chambers and training rooms for mages and warlocks to use. I mean, the headquarters had two sub-basements and an upper level where we got objectives to monitor New York.

“Right, Linda getting on your last nerves. Actually, anyone getting on your last nerves. Aiden? When are you going to date again? It has been a few months since your first girlfriend broke up with you, but you have time.”

Here we go again. Peter pushed me to find a date after I became a junior warlock. I dedicated myself to perfecting my elixir brewing and reading new spells from my spellbook. I caved in, and I attended a matchmaking party downtown. That was where I met her.

The rest was history; a horrible history I wished not to revisit. Understanding my reason, Peter let go of my shoulder, cleared his throat, and brushed lint off his violet robe. I brushed lint off my blue velvet robe, tapped the gold star on my breast pocket, then huffed. “Thanks for the advice, Peter. I just need a break from romance.”

“Okay, Aiden, but don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t overwork myself. Yesterday, I worked on a new defensive elixir. It’s at home, but I’m hesitant to practice it here.”

Peter hummed, then rubbed his chin, squinting his eyes. “A defensive elixir? Oh, Aiden. You have come a long way. I recognized your potential the moment you joined our association. Throughout the two years, you rose the rankings at record speed. I’m so proud to have you as a mentor.”

And I was proud to have Peter Pines as a mentor, too.

We reached the discussion chamber, but a warlock leaned near it. I moaned at him. Straight black hair, choppy bangs covering his huge forehead, chiseled cheekbones, and girlish blue eyes, Matthew Morrow snickered at us. He flicked dirt off his fingernails, then strode to us.

“Well, well, if it ain’t the teacher’s pet and the best warlock.”

“Hello, Mr. Morrow. You seem early for this meeting.”

“I would’ve gotten here sooner if it weren’t for my dumbass apprentice. Brett is not here again, and it pisses me off. Have you seen him?”

Peter shook his head, combing his fingers through his bed of light brown hair. The tiny strips of gray showed how my mentor was hitting retirement age. “No, I haven’t seen Brett Burns. Maybe he’s taking a break.”

Matthew scoffed, shifting his hips to the right. “Nah, he wouldn’t dare take a break without my permission. I’m the only mentor who accepted his pudgy ass. He’s one of the many steps I need to complete.”

“So you’re still not letting go of this stupid goal?”

Matthew’s goal was to become the next high master of the association. Before I enrolled, Matthew was the top ace, the most skilled warlock around. He boasted too hard, demonstrated his spells to mages, our lowest-ranked members, and belittled their dreams. I came into the picture, and Matthew disliked how I had succeeded faster than him.

One challenge later and Matthew proclaimed I was his rival. Not like I cared what he assumed. My goal was to protect Richmond from malevolent creatures. His goal was to expand that toxic ego.

“It’s none of your business, Beaker. Why won’t you focus on getting another girlfriend? Oh, that’s right. You’re too boring to nab a date. I wouldn’t have a problem because of how gorgeous I am.”

Like with Linda, Matthew loved mocking me. My chest pounded, hands balled into fists, and blood boiled underneath skin. I clenched my jaw as I imagined myself unleashing my new elixir onto Matthew’s face.

Skin melting off his face, dripping onto the cobblestone floor. That was an image I would love to see in person. However, Matthew wasn’t my problem. The primary focus was the meeting beyond that door he’s standing next to. I unclenched my fists, sighed longer than usual, and shrugged my shoulders.

“Whatever, Matthew. Are you entering, or should I?”

He scoffed, then opened the door without looking back. “No, I wouldn’t let my rival come in before me.”

His smirk, wider and teeth glistening under the chandelier, glanced at me before he strode into the chamber. Peter cupped both his sides, shaking his head in shame and disappointment. “I should notify the high master about Mr. Morrow’s behavior. He’s not presenting good behavior around the association.”

I followed Peter inside, nodded. “The less arrogant warlocks we have, the more positive our image looks.”

I wasn’t a man who enjoyed mocking others. If it was someone who deserved it, like Matthew or Linda, I found enjoyment in belittling their flaws. Once all junior and senior warlocks entered the chamber, the gigantic crystal ball in the middle of the table flickered to life.

A silhouette of the high master appeared within the crystal ball, his stern white eyes on all of us.

“Attention, high-ranking warlocks. We have a situation to discuss.”

His booming voice echoed and bounced across the chamber. “My prediction two nights ago has shown me Richmond’s future.”

Peter raised his arm. “What did it show you, sir?”

“Someone in our association.” His eyes darted from Peter to the surrounding warlocks near the table. “Has unleashed a deadly curse. This curse is forbidden. None of us should touch it in a million years, yet this person will unleash it. Unfortunately, the prediction showed me the person’s actions from their perspective. I don’t know who we’re dealing with.”

We nodded as this curse could endanger the supernatural community and humanity. The tough part was finding who this culprit was and when they’ll strike.

“Never worry, warlocks. When the dreaded curse befalls ‌Richmond, we’ll be ready. I want all of you to prepare, too. Practice any last-minute spells, brew healing elixirs, and spread the news to any supernatural residents you see.”

We nodded once more; then the high master’s silhouette disappeared, the crystal ball’s glow dimming.

Linda Lyon

I jogged throughout Sandy Bottom Park three times. My chest burned, and I couldn’t feel my lungs taking in fresh oxygen, but it’ll be worth the effort when I win the championship. Dad always said to push farther and never give up. Oh, being a lion shifter came with pros and cons. The pros were I had super strength, agility, endurance, and a gorgeous human form.

The cons, on the other hand, were another story.

After completing my third lap around the park, I sat on the bench, gulping icy water. The refreshing wave of cold water erased the burning in my chest. I sighed with satisfaction.

Dad called me yesterday. He wanted to continue the mate arrangement before I became the next alpha of the Lyon Tribe.

I kept telling him I wasn’t ready to find a mate. Not one that he chose, obviously.

The last time he chose a mate without my permission? Let’s just say it made me weak.

Weak wasn’t a word I used to describe myself. Last year, when he put his hands on me, stripped me naked, and dared to kiss my lips. I had it. I vowed to myself to find a mate. Dad could pressure me as long as he wanted, but I wasn’t bowing down. He taught me lions never bow down or cower in the face of danger. That would explain why he asked his brother, my uncle, to teach me how to fire guns.

I stood up, glanced at the night sky, and noticed the stars twinkling.

One day, when I’m alpha, my mate will support me. Ugh, my promise sounded pathetic, but doable.

Aiden Beaker

Back at Glitter Alcove, I finished eating dinner and looking over the defensive elixir I brewed. An ember yellow fluid inside a spray bottle, I scanned it with careful attention. I wasn’t sure if the spray bottle would withstand the elixir’s potency. No holes were forming, so I made the right decision.

My cell phone rang, and there were two calls. One was from Jake. He wanted me to take a night shift tomorrow because the employee called in sick. Great, now I have to stand through another wave of annoying customers during the night. The second call was from Dad and Mom.

They occasionally call me after I left the family house. I enrolled at university, so moving out was the best action to take. Dad asked me how was I doing with the Association of Warlocks and Mages.

“Alright, Dad. The association is taking good care of me.”

“Good, because going to the association runs in our family blood, Aiden.”

It does. Dad and his father attended the association, determined to protect humanity for dark forces.

“Besides the association, how’s the rest of your day?”

They don’t know about my failed attempt to date a young woman. I would rather take that to my fucking grave than share this with him. Instead, I said my job at the Sweet Desires is decent and living alone wasn’t as hard as they believed.

Dad passed the phone to Mom, and she told me how proud she was. She knew that graduating from university, moving to Richmond and joining the AW&M would be my future. As a psychic, Mom knew almost everything. Her visions had helped others find better paths in life. One of those visions helped Dad meet his soulmate. She didn’t expect to be Dad’s soulmate, though.

She hinted about how I’ll find a soulmate, but I pretended to accept the idea. Vision or not, I wasn’t dating again. Not while she was around the Staten Island, satisfied of ruining a poor guy’s confidence. I hung up, then put the bottle of defense elixir away. Throughout the evening routine, I couldn’t stop thinking about the incident. How venomous she said those words.

You’re too boring.

I don’t want to see your boring face again.

Boring repeated itself in my head as I walked to my bedroom. It wasn’t my fault I played things safe. Wasn’t my fault for following a simple lifestyle, despite being a warlock. In bed, reading my spellbook, I thought about what Peter had said. What the high master said about the curse.

I sighed, slammed the spellbook shut, slid it under the bed, and lay back.

I’m done with romance, and when the curse happens, I’ll be ready.