They finally have a chance to balance the scales…
Unique talents sometimes get a guy into trouble. Especially when that talent involves reading people like a book. But Benet found his way to the other side. Now, he and his business partner, Monroe, only do the jobs they pick. Interesting magical treasures. Both their special skills utilized. Good money. Not a bad life.
But the past leaves scars. Regrets. Maybe better to call them…imbalances.
And this latest job gives Benet and Monroe a chance at a little balance. To fix something they left broken. To settle an old score.
So long as they resist the lure of the dangerous magic’s call.
BENET AND MONROE AT THE CAFE is available to read for free until the 1st of December, when another story will be posted. For readers who would prefer to read on a device of preference, or who would like their own personal eBook of this story, you can find it here.
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Benet and Monroe at the Café
A Café Story
Stepping into the cool interior of the café after the sweltering heat outside, Benet took a deep breath and let his shoulders relax. The place smelled of coffee and buttery croissants and a hint of the Earl Gray someone was drinking—hot. Hot tea on a hot day. Reminded him of Turkey.
The café was open, lots of wood and cushioned seating scattered around the edges. Nice wood tables and chairs in the center. Longer than it was wide, but still wide enough to give lots of space between the tables. Through a large cut in the wall, he could see into the bookstore next door. Which seemed pretty busy. With this great air conditioning, he could see why. Must cost them a fortune.
On a day like this, with the temperatures in the nineties and the humidity nearing ninety as well, the cool air was worth every penny.
And because he believed in honoring a service provided—in this case, a cool place to stay for an hour while he waited on Monroe—he went right to the counter and ordered a large ice coffee and two croissants from the witch behind the counter. She probably didn’t reveal she was a witch to everyone. Which was smart. Mundanes could be weird about that sort of thing. But Benet wasn’t a mundane.
The giant Maine Coon cat next to the register sprawled across a raised stool that was clearly too small for his bulk, and which clearly made no difference to the cat. A pretty familiar with pale gray coloring. The cat opened its pale blue eyes for a brief moment when he stepped up to the register. Benet gave the cat a little nod. The cat narrowed its eyes, then sort of shifted its head to one side in what looked suspiciously like a shrug and closed its eyes again, going back to sleep.
Benet smiled. Guess he passed the test.
The patrons in the café were all pretty normal. Except for the older woman drinking the Earl Gray and reading a book of erotic poetry. She was not a mundane. He wasn’t entirely sure what she was, but she wasn’t one of the ordinary people.
The witch behind the counter took his card payment and smiled. “Hot out there today, isn’t it?”
“Very bad,” he agreed with a shrug.
“Make yourself comfortable in the air conditioning, then. No one has to rush here. You can stay as long as you need to.”
“Thank you.” He glanced at her name tag. “Nina?”
“That’s me.”
“I’m Benet.”
“Nice to meet you. You from around here? Work in the neighborhood?”
“No. Just passing through.” He glanced around. “But I like the feel of this place.”
“Glad to hear it. We try. Don’t we, Boo?” This last she said to the sleeping cat. The sleeping cat didn’t even deign to open his eyes to respond. Nina chuckled. “Cats, right?”
“Cats.” He nodded his thanks when she passed him his order and went to one of the empty couches near the front windows. A shade had been pulled down to block a lot of the sun coming into the café, but there was still a little bar of light at the bottom half of the window and he could see the pedestrians passing. Good place to watch for Monroe if the man showed up earlier than expected.
The quiet hum of humans going about their business was a nice white noise in the background. There were a lot of people in the café, taking refuge from the heat, but it didn’t have a crowded feel to it. Cozy. That’s what people called places like this. Cozy.
He sipped his remarkably good ice coffee and watched the pedestrians pass. Keeping his mind quiet as he waited so he wouldn’t inadvertently read any of the people around him. After so many years, he’d gotten quite good at not doing that. Not so easy in the beginning, though.
After an hour, he checked his phone screen. No messages. Monroe wasn’t running late—a miracle—and wasn’t early. If he showed up now, he’d be right on time. Or as close as Monroe got. Only ten minutes past the meeting time when he finally walked into the café.
They’d arranged to meet here because it was inside and this was the sort of place people met up and sat together talking without it looking suspicious. Monroe had apparently been to the café before and knew it would be a safe enough spot for the exchange. After meeting Nina and Boo, Benet had to hand it to his colleague. The choice had been good. Not least because the coffee and croissants had been delicious.
Monroe spotted him the minute he walked inside and made a beeline to the cushioned chair across from Benet. The little round wooden table between the couch and chairs held Benet’s now empty plate and the sweating glass of his second ice coffee.
“Good food, right?” Monroe said by way of greeting.
“Coffee’s nice too.”
Monroe fanned his face. Sweat dripped down his cheeks and stuck his t-shirt to his chest. A concert t-shirt for a band Benet didn’t know. Not that he kept up much on the modern music scene. He’d never been much of a music person. He didn’t mind music. He just found he didn’t go out of his way to listen to any.
Monroe, on the other hand, was a music junky. Always up on the newest stuff, with eclectic taste that seemed to span the spectrum from Country to Hip Hop to Rock to Opera. A range that made Benet and his non-musical head spin. Occasionally, Monroe tried to explain his obsession to Benet, but it was like Benet trying to explain his love of Tiffany glasswork to Monroe. They were speaking different love languages. Though they’d both managed to appreciate the other’s obsessions.
“Go get a coffee so we help Nina pay for all this air conditioning,” he said, nodding to the counter.
“You got the barista’s name?” Monroe winked at him.
Benet sighed. “She has a name tag.”
“Never noticed before.” He patted the chair armrests then rose and went to get his order while Benet waited.
He’d been working with Monroe for ten years now. It was a good relationship. Monroe was a bloodhound when it came to finding things. Benet was an expert in coming up with things they needed to find and clients willing to pay for those things. Actually, after all these years, the clients came to him now with their requests. And thanks to his unique ability to read people, he’d been able to pick and choose only those clients with honest intentions for the last eight years.
In the beginning, they’d had to deal with people with less than honest intentions. And Benet had hated that. A lot. The feeling of working with such people left an oily sensation clinging to his skin afterward. The money had always been good. Probably better with those oily people. But it hadn’t been worth the grief or the vague guilt. Some of the things they’d recovered and turned over to those oily people had been dangerous objects. Things no doubt used for nefarious purposes. At the time, Benet hadn’t been able to turn down the money on offer. Getting out from under his contract had been his sole focus and that took a lot of cash. But once he’d managed that, he’d been able to be pickier with the clients he took on.
Monroe, for his part, was happier this way too. Neither of them had been keen on some of those earlier dealings.
But now… Finding unique antiquities and magical objects was actually fun and challenging, enjoyable when you knew the object wouldn’t be used to potentially hurt people.
And this particular job had been especially satisfying. A sort of…well, he didn’t want to call it penance because that carried connotations that didn’t apply here. But a balancing of the scales. This job gave him and Monroe a chance to balance the scales a little.
Monroe returned with a large ice coffee and a blueberry muffin, looking delighted with his haul. “Her name is Nina! Good spot.”
Benet sighed. “Your observation skills are appalling.”
“They work when I need them too.”
“Fair enough. What did you find?”
“Let me taste this coffee you made me buy first.” Monroe took his time with a long sip, making a show of savoring the flavor. “Yum.”
“Yes, it’s good coffee.” Benet infused his tone with forced patience and annoyance, but in fact, he was growing excited. Monroe only showed off his best annoying traits when he’d found what they were looking for.
“Now for some of this muffin,” Monroe said, rubbing his hands together first.
Benet broke character to bark out a laugh. The man was ridiculous.
Still, the show was only partly to annoy Benet. Turned out the muffins were as good as the croissants and before Benet could add a sarcastic comment to the moment, Monroe had devoured his muffin.
“This place is great,” Monroe said, looking around. “We should come here more often.”
“Yes, yes. You can have all Nina’s coffee and blueberry muffins you want in the future so long as you found it.”
Monroe’s grin was slow and smug. “I found it.”
Benet held his excitement inside. Keeping his outer expression to a simple smile and nod. Inside, he was jumping around and punching the air. Take that you bastard.
“You have it?” he asked Monroe. Finding and possessing one of their hard-to-find relics were two different tasks.
“We’ll have it within the half hour,” Monroe said.
“What does that mean?” Benet sat up from his comfortable slouch on the couch.
“I had to bring in an expert to help me get the thing back. Ellington has had it locked away in a vault for the last five years. Secret and supposedly impenetrable. It’s not even in any of his corporate records. He’s kept it well hidden. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to keep using it after what happened.”
Benet shivered, tried to force down the memory. Failed.
The red crystal was not something to be handled lightly. And unfortunately, the man who’d possessed that crystal for the last eight years had reveled in that weighty responsibility. A little too much. Until it got too much even for him. Ellington had finally hidden the red crystal away, and there had been no more murders. The series that had happened in the three years the red crystal had been active were enough.
Neither he nor Monroe had known exactly what the red crystal would do, and they hadn’t asked too many questions because the pay for that one job had allowed them to stop working for the exact sort of people who went looking for things like the red crystal. They’d been able to get pickier after that job. But that job had also forced Benet to admit he couldn’t keep working for people that had no appreciation for the power they wielded. And he especially didn’t want to work for any more sociopaths if he could avoid it.
Thankfully, his particular gifts allowed him to spot a sociopath a mile away, which made them much easier to avoid.
“Who did you get to recover the crystal, then?” he asked quietly. The café was noisy enough, and there was a lot of noise filtering in from the bookstore—where there was also some music playing in the background. So their conversation was relatively private. But with a witch, her familiar, and…whatever the older woman reading the erotica was, all in the same café, he didn’t take privacy for granted.
“Expert at breaking an entering. A thief. She’s very good.” He winked. “Has a touch of magic. She doesn’t usually do jobs for other people, but we’re old friends and she agreed to do me the favor for a percentage of the pay.”
“What’s the percentage?” Benet asked. This was a decent paying job. The people looking to recover the crystal would ensure it was stored properly for the long term so it could never cause any harm again, which made Benet even more keen on seeing this one done. But the fee wasn’t that substantial. They still had bills to pay.
“Just ten percent. After I told her what the crystal could do and had done and what our clients had warned us about… She was in. She likes a challenge more than the money anyway. But no real artist should work for free. And Myra is an artist.”
High praise coming from one of the best trackers in the world. Monroe could find the proverbial needle in a haystack by giving the haystack and assessing look, then reaching in and pulling out the needle.
“She was able to get it?”
“We’ll know when she gets here. But I’m sure she managed it. She’s very good.”
Since Monroe was confident, Benet consigned himself to waiting the extra half hour. He didn’t really mind the excuse to stay inside in the café’s very good air conditioning.
He and Monroe chatted about sports and Monroe’s latest video game obsession. He’d been trying for years to get Benet into these online multi-player adventure games. Benet was content with his quiet time in between jobs, and had never taken to the games, but he did enjoy the stories Monroe told of his adventures in those virtual worlds. They bought more coffee, to pay for the space they were taking up. People came and went from the café. Some with to-go cups and stacks of books from next door, some after sitting in the café for a bit, some wandered over to the bookstore from the café. Both places seemed to do a decent business for the middle of the day on a Friday.
Benet watched the door and Monroe watched the sidewalk as they talked. And yet, the small woman who stepped up next to their table suddenly took them both by surprise.
“Hey, Monroe. How’s the coffee here?”
Monroe blinked, then broke out into a wide smile. “Hey, Myra. Coffees great. This is my associate, Terrance Benet. Benet, Myra.”
Myra touched her forehead with a finger in greeting, and he returned the greeting with a nod. She was a small woman, dressed all in black, which must be sweltering in this weather. Thin, with dark hair and eyes, pale skin. She was the kind of person you might overlook, if she wanted you to, and would notice the minute she walked into a room if that were required. Her features were pretty but also seemed…malleable. If she wasn’t a thief, Benet imagined she could be a good con artist.
“Why aren’t you sweating in all that black?” Monroe asked her, scowling at her leggings and black vest. “It’s four hundred degrees outside.”
She winked. “I’ll got get a coffee and then join you.”
“Did you expect an answer?” Benet asked Monroe.
“Na. Just wondered if I’d get one.” Monroe glanced over at Myra standing at the counter, then faced Benet. “Well?”
“She’s as honest as a thief could be, with a strong ethical streak I’m not sure she knows she possesses. Magical for sure, that specific thief magic that shows up sometimes. Lot of secrets. That’s to be expected. Not a horrible person or, surprisingly, a dishonest one. For a thief.” He frowned a little. “That part is a little hard to pinpoint though. It’s not that she’s honest, per se. She’s just not dishonest.” He gave his head a shake. “My thing isn’t like reading a book. It’s hard to interpret sometimes. But we can trust her not to double cross us at least.”
Monroe gave a nod and smiled. “All things I was certain of, but it’s good to have your confirmation. Given what you can do.”
Myra rejoined them with a mug of hot coffee, which made Benet sweat just to look at, and sprawled in the cushioned seat next to Monroe, so she was mostly facing Benet. She gave him an assessing look, and he wondered what she saw. What she thought of someone like him?
Whatever test she was giving him, he must have passed, though, because she said, “I got your item. Dangerous. I’m not usually too noisy—” Monroe snorted into his straw and Myra shrugged. “Okay. I’m a little noisy. What do you intend on doing with this thing?”
“I told you that already,” Monroe said.
“I want to hear it from your partner here.” She held Benet’s gaze as she spoke.
“We have a client for the…item. They asked us to retrieve it.”
“They gonna use it?”
“Nope. They store things like this. Their family has been doing that for…a long time. Well, part of their family has been recovering and storing cursed and dangerous objects. The other part…” He sighed. “They sell them. When they get their hands on them. And that side of the family were very close to talking Ellington into handing the item over to them.”
“What would they have done with it?”
“Sold it. To someone called to it, called to use it. And the murders would start all over again. Things like that, objects like that… They don’t like being dormant. They’ll bring someone to them that will willingly use them. And the unscrupulous side of the Sinclair family happily gathers those kinds of objects and makes money when the object finds its newest victim.”
“Well they suck,” Myra said. “How do you know you’re not dealing with that side of the family?”
“Because we’ve worked for this side of the family before. Brother and sister. Very, very good at storage and minimizing harm. They’ve paid us to find things before. We know what they’ve done with those things after. We can trust them.”
And Benet could read them and know their intentions. The Sinclair siblings were the good ones. He’d met their cousin. It wasn’t hard for someone like him to see the clear difference between the two sides of the family.
But that wasn’t something he was going to tell a thief. Even if Myra was an old friend of Monroe’s.
She continued to stare at him for a moment as she considered what he’d told her. He held her gaze. This wasn’t the first time he’d been studied and assessed. Happened every time he met with a client.
“Where are these clients of yours now?” Myra asked.
“New York. We’ll take the item there right after this meeting.”
She grinned. “I’m from New York. Great city. Maybe I’ll look up these people some time.”
“If you can find their place, sure. But I doubt you’d find anything there that wouldn’t melt your brain. I’d recommend against it.” He was being honest and hoped she realized it. The store wasn’t for the faint of heart or the weak of will. He wouldn’t meet Doreen and Ian at Friday’s. Instead, he met Ian at a sandwich shop up the road from their store. A safer place for someone like him.
“Okay, then,” Myra said. She set her mug on the table between them and pulled out a small black leather satchel. She bounced it on her hand. “I had to use this to store this thing. I wouldn’t recommend touching it with your bare hands. The…magic is strong and the compulsion is sticky. This—” she bounced the bag again, “—is designed to contain that sort of thing. Should keep you safe from the compulsion.”
“We’ve dealt with this before,” Benet said. “But thank you. That does make things easier.” The last time, he’d had to buy a locking spell after the thing almost got to Monroe. They had one on hand again this time, but with Myra’s bag, it looked like that wouldn’t be necessary.
She considered the bag in her hand a moment longer. Neither Benet nor Monroe reached for it. But they did both watch Myra for signs that the red crystal had gotten to her.
She turned her attention back to Monroe this time. “You sure this isn’t going to land into the hands of someone who might…use it?”
“I’m sure,” Monroe said. Nodded at Benet. “Because he’s sure.” With a small smile, he added, “It’s kind of what he does. He…knows people.”
“Then you knew the first time who Ellington was, and that he was not going to handle it well?”
“We didn’t know what it did the first time,” Monroe said, now very serious. “Not completely. We knew it was magic and dangerous. We didn’t know how Ellington would use it.”
Benet kept his mouth shut, because Monroe was telling a half truth. They hadn’t know exactly what the red crystal would do when they retrieved it. And they hadn’t known exactly how Ellington would use it. Not precisely. They had known he’d use it, though. Monroe was skirting the intention of Myra’s question. Answering without really answering.
Monroe’s gaze dropped to the bag. “And you?” he asked. “You tempted to…use it? To keep it?”
“Me?” Myra looked at the bag again. Then shook her head. “Nope.” She tossed it sideways to Benet.
The move so surprised him he bobbled the leather bag a little before getting a firm grip on it. Scowling at the thief, he wrapped his hands around the bag to ensure it didn’t drop. If the crystal had slid out in this place, if someone who might know about it had seen it, they’d be in for a complication none of them needed.
Myra ignored his scowl and seemed unfazed by what could have just happened. “Too much responsibility, that thing,” she said. “Hope your New York Sinclairs can handle it.”
“They’ve handled worse.” His tone came out sharper than he’d meant because he was still trying to calm his heartrate after nearly dropping the crystal.
Myra raised a brow. Then shrugged. “If you say so. Monroe trusts your judgment. I guess I will too.” She picked up her hot coffee, which had no doubt cooled during their discussion, and finished it off. “Really is great coffee here,” she said with a nod to Monroe. “Think I might come back again.”
“Was thinking the same thing,” Monroe said with a crooked smile. “Money will be in your account the day after we get paid. We’re expecting payment in two days.”
“Groovy.” Myra stood and gave them another little finger solute. “Good luck,” she said, her gaze dropping to the leather bag. Then she grinned and sauntered into the bookstore.
Benet watched her leave, making sure there were no double crosses or things he might have missed. But Myra was definitely leaving. And she was definitely what she seemed.
He noticed the older woman drinking the hot Earl Gray looked up and followed Myra’s exit too. She smiled a little as she turned back to her poetry book. Benet wondered at that. He was also very curious about what the older woman was. Nothing he’d encountered before.
For the moment, she wasn’t his concern, though. Maybe he’d allow his curiosity rein later. But now, they had a job to finish. He steeled himself, then opened the satchel’s drawstring, peeking inside. He sealed the bag back up instantly, cutting off the faint red glow emanating from its depths, and let out a relieved breath as he reknotted the drawstring.
“Up to you now,” Monroe said. “You sure you can handle that thing until the exchange?”
“I’m sure. And I’m sure Ian will safely store the crystal at their store.”
“You ever wonder,” Monroe said, his gaze dropping to the bag. “Wonder what it would be like to give in to one of these little monsters?”
They’d recovered a lot of dangerous items over the years. And had a few close calls. But without the influence of the magic to catch him, “No. I don’t.” He met Monroe’s gaze. “You?”
Monroe rocked his head from side to side. “It’s occurred to me a few times. The power that would come with taking hold of some of these things and actually using them.”
“You tempted now?”
“With that? No. Too much to handle, that one. But there’ve been others.”
“Are you telling me you’re ready to retire, Monroe?” They had been at this a long time. And temptation to use the strange objects they found was always a worry. If either of their ability to resist the magical pull of some of the more dangerous objects waned, retirement might be the only option.
Monroe did another of his side to side head movements. “Not yet. Not yet.” He met Benet’s gaze. “But I can’t do this forever. Eventually, it’ll get to me. And, Benet, when you see that start to happen, I want you to tell me. You got that? Don’t dance around it. Don’t pretend you’re not seeing what you’re seeing. You know me, better than most people in this world. And because you’re you, you’ll be able to tell when I’m getting too…tempted for the job. So I need you to tell me. And then ensure I retire.”
Benet let out a breath, rubbed a hand over his jaw. “You sure?”
“Sure that I trust you to do the right thing,” Monroes said. “Or I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Okay.” How could he say no? Monroe was his colleague, and though they rarely admitted it, his friend. Maybe even his best friend, though they certainly wouldn’t ever say that out loud. If Monroe needed him as back up, Benet was prepared to step up. “Okay,” he repeated. “I’ve got your back.”
Monroe’s grin was quick and content. “Knew I could count on you. Now, one more coffee before we brave that scorching heat again?”
“I’d better get going.” He nodded to the bag. “Sooner we get this stored safely, the happier I’ll be.”
“And the sooner we’ll get paid.” Monrose raised his ice coffee in a solute to successful financial outcomes.
Benet chuckled. “See you in a few. Should have a new client for us in a couple of weeks.”
“So soon?”
“Yeah. And I think you’ll like this job.”
“Let me know when you’re ready.” The twinkle in Monroe’s dark eyes confirmed his curiosity. And willingness to do at least one more job.
That was more of a relief than Benet would admit out loud. “Enjoy your coffee.”
He gave Nina the barista and Boo the familiar a little wave on the way out, then pushed out into the thick, oppressive heat. He had a crystal to deliver. And a circle to close.
One less dangerous object out in the wild. He’d take that.
He’d take that.
***
Thanks for reading BENET AND MONROE AT THE CAFE. I hope you enjoyed it.
With this story I crossed the streams of my story universes a bit. Astute readers will recognize the fact that Friday's Curious Shop--home of the Sinclair siblings--and Myra's Dragon Thief series are not in the same universe. Friday's exists in the same world as Cary Redmond, the Demon Witch series, the Seven Families series, and the Tiger Shifters series--in other words most of my contemporary fantasy series. But Dragon Thief is alternate history and so takes place in a completely different timeline.
But weird things can happen at the cafe. And this is one of those weird things. It's kind of fun, actually, to cross the streams. :)
If you'd like to read some of the Friday's stories, I recommend starting with the very first one FRIDAY'S CURIOUS SHOP. They are all standalone stories, but this one introduces the store and the Sinclair siblings. And if you haven't read the Dragon Thief series yet, best place to start that is with DRAGON THIEF! This series builds on previous books, so while you could enjoy individual books as standalone, the series is more fun if you read it chronologically.
If you’d like your own personal eBook copy of BENET AND MONROE AT THE CAFE, you can find it for sale here. You can also peruse the previous Café stories that are individually available for sale here.
And don’t forget to check back on the 1st of December for the next Free story from The Café!