“Nice work, Peter,” Serenity smiled at her student.

“Thank you, Miss Serenity.” He grinned up at her with his lopsided smile. Peter was only seven, but his parents were determined to give him a well-rounded education. She spent an hour each week with him, helping him to learn new techniques for painting, drawing, and sculpting. Sometimes they even worked on art history together, and she had the chance to teach him about some of the greatest artists of their time.

“I want to make something else next week, though,” Peter told her.

“What would you like to make?”

“Hmm,” Peter tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe a dinosaur.”

“I think we can make that happen,” she smiled. “We’ll have a lot of fun.” Their lesson was over, so she stood, gathering her things. She waved goodbye to Peter and headed out of the sitting room to the kitchen, where the housekeeper was waiting with her weekly check.

“How’d he do today?” Mrs. Olsen was a middle-aged woman with white hair and a bright smile. Both of Peter’s parents worked, so Mrs. Olsen took care of him between tutors and lessons. He used to go to private school, but was diagnosed with several medical conditions that meant he couldn’t always go to class. This was how his parents got around that.

If they couldn’t send Peter to school, they simply brought school to him.

Serenity admired their tenacity. Both Peter’s father and mother loved him very much and spent as much time as possible with him. She wondered if she would be as brave as them, if she were ever to be a mother, but then Serenity pushed the thought from her head.

She’d be lucky if she lived long enough to fall in love and find a husband, much less have a child with that man. Besides, she had a bounty on her head. There was a price for killing a fallen angel, and she wouldn’t want to bring a child into the middle of that.

“He did wonderfully,” Serenity told Mrs. Olsen.

“Lovely to hear,” Mrs. Olsen handed Serenity her check, along with a bag of cookies.

“What’s this?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“My favorite.”

“I know.”

Serenity gave Mrs. Olsen a hug and headed out the door. She had a little bit of time to kill before her class at the community center that night, so she went to a little coffee shop, ordered a drink, and selected a table in the back. She sat alone with her back to the wall. She always sat this way. She could see everyone coming in and out of the little coffee shop, and this gave her some semblance of safety.

She knew it was silly. She shouldn’t be afraid to drink coffee in the middle of the day in the middle of a coffee shop, yet she was. Serenity was growing more and more uncomfortable each day, and she knew it was unreasonable.

Nothing bad was going to happen to her.

So Wrath knew a woman like her who had been killed.

So what?

Plenty of people knew other people who died. That was the sad part about being human. Death was inevitable, and it sneaked up on you when you least expected it. It wasn’t fair. Not by any stretch of the imagination. It was reality, though, and Serenity knew this.

“Mind if I join you?” A soft, feminine voice asked. Serenity looked up at a young woman with blonde hair and a big smile. “Sorry, I know it’s weird.” She shrugged and glanced around the room. “But there’s nowhere else to sit and, well, I really want to sit and drink my coffee.” She chuckled, and Serenity nodded.

“By all means,” she motioned to the seat across from her.

She didn’t feel like talking, but maybe sharing stories with a stranger was exactly what Serenity needed. During her time in town, she hadn’t made that many friends. After Oliver died, she just didn’t really have the energy. It took all of her strength just to get out of bed. The idea of having to actually talk to people seemed terrible to her.

Now, though, things were different. She was different.

“Pretty busy today, huh?” Serenity said.

“Yeah,” the girl nodded. “You come here a lot?”

“Not too often, but it’s a nice quiet place to get a cup of coffee before I head to work.”

“What kind of work do you do?” The girl smiled. She seemed friendly, but young. Serenity guessed she was probably 24 or 25. Physically, they probably looked about the same age, but Serenity was so much older in her heart.

“I’m a teacher. What about you?”

“I’m a student. Grad school,” the girl grinned. “I’m planning to be a journalist.”

“Wow, that’s really interesting. Sounds like a challenging line of work.”

“It is, but it’s so exciting,” the girl gushed. “I’m Susan, by the way. Susan Miller. I’m just in town for the conference.”

“The conference?” Serenity asked. She did her best to keep up with all of the Bradshaw community events, but this was something she hadn’t heard about.

“Yep! It’s my first magic event and I’m really excited. You know, I’ve only been interested in witchcraft for a short time, and…”

The woman’s voice droned on, but Serenity felt herself pale.

There was a magic conference.

Magic users from across the country were gathering.

Here.

Of all places.

Not only was Serenity not safe at churches, but now, she wasn’t even safe in a coffee shop. It’s a good thing the girl talking to her was a new magic user, or she’d probably start to ask questions. Serenity instantly became nervous. She needed to act human. She was human, but she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she had to be extra human.

She had to be a normal human.

She just had to be real.

And suddenly, she didn’t know how to do that. Everything she’d practiced and learned over the last few months suddenly disappeared. Suddenly, she didn’t want to do anything but go home. She couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say or what she was supposed to do. She just looked at Susan Miller.

“It’s really informative, you know, especially for new people like me. There isn’t always a lot of support for people who want to do magic.”

Susan took a sip of her coffee and leaned back in the chair. She seemed at home here, like this was her element. The idea of magic didn’t embarrass her or make her uncomfortable, but it bothered Serenity.

Hearing there was a conference in town full of magic users made her feel like something was crawling beneath her skin. She began to scratch at her arms as she listened to Susan talk. Susan didn’t notice, but with each sentence the witch spoke, Serenity grew more and more uncomfortable.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.