Always a Golem, Never a Bride: Demonic Café, #5

By Karen Mead

After saving the world from magical invasion, Cassie is hoping to have a relaxing summer at the beach, preferably with her now-human boyfriend. However, news of Sam's un-demonic status has somehow gotten out, putting the whole entourage on the defensive. How can they protect themselves from vengeful demons when their own resident hellspawn has been busted back to slinging espresso shots at the shop? As if that weren't bad enough, someone with a very dangerous skill set has noticed that a lot of high-powered deals seem to go down in a certain little coffee shop, and he wants answers. Add a member of the entourage getting a very unexpected power boost and a strange monster made out of rocks and gems that keeps trying to kidnap Cassie, and this summer is not going at all like Cassie planned. At least there's still delicious iced mocha lattes at The Daily Grind....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karen Mead
• Release date: Feb 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201402259

Book preview

Always a Golem, Never a Bride

Demonic Café Book Five

By Karen L. Mead

Text copyright© 2022 Karen L. Mead

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-six

Chapter Thirty-seven

Chapter Thirty-eight

Chapter Thirty-nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-one

Chapter Forty-two

Chapter Forty-three

Chapter Forty-four

Chapter Forty-five

Chapter Forty-six

Chapter Forty-seven

Chapter Forty-eight

Chapter Forty-nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-one

Chapter Fifty-two

Chapter Fifty-three

Chapter Fifty-four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-six

Chapter Fifty-seven

Chapter Fifty-eight

Chapter Fifty-nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-one

Chapter Sixty-two

Chapter Sixty-three

Chapter Sixty-four

Chapter Sixty-five

Chapter Sixty-six

Chapter Sixty-seven

Chapter Sixty-eight

Preview: Demonic Café Book Six

Prologue

From the very beginning, Emet was confused. She was told that the precious stone housed in her core was essential to her being, and that she could pull other matter towards her stone to defend herself, but she didn’t see why such a thing should be necessary.

You must guard my people against those that would harm them, little stone mouse.

But why?

There are people who say that I and my family kill children, use their blood in our sacred rites. We do no such thing, of course.

Then why don’t you tell them that?

We have tried. They are not interested in the truth, only finding an excuse to slaughter me and my people.

What did your people do to make them so angry?

It’s not anything we did or didn’t do. It’s just who we are.

I don’t understand what you’re saying.

I know, but fortunately, you don’t need to understand. You just need to stand guard outside the synagogue...stop anyone who would enter to do us harm.

How can I tell who the bad ones are? You all look the same to me.

"A wise question. Look: do you see the kipah on my head? The curls on my temples? My blue-and-white prayer tallit? This is how to recognize your people."

They are...my people?

They are indeed.

But I am not a people.

No, but you are our hope. You are the savior of my people, wishes turned to living stone. You are a desperate dream made manifest.

Emet considered that, but didn’t find the comfort in the sentiment that Rabbi Loew seemed to.

If I am a dream, what happens to me when you wake up?

We will never wake up, little stone mouse. We can’t afford to stop dreaming.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand you.

You will.

But how can you be alive and be asleep at the same time? I don’t understand...I don’t understand....

Then sleep descended, and Emet learned how it was possible to exist but be unconscious. It was one of the most important lessons for a Golem to learn.

——————————-

The figure was made of clay and stone. Craggy pieces of rock, embedded into soft brown clay, rested upon each other to form a vaguely humanoid shape, but there was no confusing the creature for a human. It didn’t speak, but when it moved, the sound was gravel scraping along concrete. In the center, near where a human’s navel would be, there was a large, uncut diamond.

Cassie shivered, though it wasn’t cold.

I don’t understand. What do you want me to do?

Rabbi Loew bowed deeply, the fringes of his prayer shawl shaking. I need you to cure this creature for me. Though I didn’t mean to, I have treated it horribly, and it is deeply hurt. The only way to save it from an eternity of madness is the healing of a white witch.

Cassie tapped her foot against the wet earth. They were in the Adirondack Mountains, in the imaginary place she went to by default whenever anyone tried to reach her psychically, and it had just rained. Why it would have rained within her mind, she had no idea.

I think you’ve got the wrong girl.

The Rabbi adjusted his monocle.

Oh? Are you not the strongest spellcaster of your generation, the girl known as The Virgin Witch?

That’s false advertising.

The Rabbi shrugged, as though there was nothing to be done about it.

Be that as it may, I believe you’re the best chance I...no, the best chance Emet has.

Cassie shrugged too. She wasn’t really annoyed, but she didn’t feel positively disposed to the Rabbi and his request.

Look, I have a lot going on, okay? I need to learn magic, but the demon who was going to teach me isn’t a demon anymore, so he can’t help me. If anyone finds out he’s not a demon, really bad stuff is going to go down. Also, my boyfriend—who happens to be the same person—just dumped me. Nursing a big rock back to health is just not high on my list of things to do right now.

So you say now, the Rabbi said, pulling his robe more tightly around himself. But you will do it. You won’t remember tonight, I don’t think. But when you see Emet, your kind nature will ensure that you do what is required.

Cassie leaned over and put her hand on an apple tree. Considering that this place didn’t exist in reality, it was amazing how the gnarled texture of the bark felt real to her senses, making her fingertips tingle.

Can you start spreading the word around that I’m really mean, and I don’t want to help anybody? I need people to get over this idea that I’ll magically solve all their problems.

Even if I wanted to lie, I would have no one to tell, said the Rabbi softly.

What, are you dead? Are you in Realm?

I am nowhere.

Well, you’re in my head at least, and you need to leave.

I shall. But remember Emet...please do not forget. Please, try to remember when the time comes.

Okay, I’ll try to remember your pet rock.

Then Cassie woke up, and within five seconds—as is the way of dreams—she had forgotten about the Rabbi and his Golem. Although, perhaps not completely.

Chapter One

It was unusual for Dwight to be running the shop by himself, but for some reason he ended up alone for a few hours on a Friday afternoon shift. He didn’t really mind but keeping up with the orders was becoming challenging.

Okay, here’s one Caramel Coconut Swirl, one medium dark roast, and two whole wheat bagels. Next, I have a large cinnamon latte....

Where’s mine? I ordered before her, a painfully thin man complained.

I’m sorry sir, what was your order?

The man gave Dwight a dirty look, like he’d like to drop a hot cup of espresso over his head.

A doppio.

Alright, I’ll have that for you in one—?

When he looked at the bar, the two shots for the doppio espresso were already pulled. Dwight was confused.

When did I do that? Did I just pull those shots on autopilot or something?

Since he didn’t know how old the shots were, he threw them out and made a fresh doppio espresso for the customer. After he’d sent the angry customer off with his drink of choice, he took a moment to look at the espresso machines, wary. He didn’t have long to think though, because a large group of women from the local book club entered the shop together and approached the front. They were very slim women, so Dwight figured that their consistently large orders at his shop represented a once-a-week indulgence.

I’ll have a chocolate latte, with whipped cream and sprinkles.

I’ll have an iced mocha, five shots over foam, with skim milk.

Mine is a large iced green tea with soy milk.

Hmm, I think I’ll have a...

Dwight hurried to mark all the cups before he could forget, then began prepping the drinks as fast as possible. As he began making the drinks on the espresso bar, one woman called out.

And we all want chocolate croissants!

Dwight suppressed a groan. He had a tray of the croissants, but they were in the back and he didn’t want to be bothered going into the back room right now. He decided he’d finish all the drinks first and then make a trip into the back to bring up the croissants and other treats that he could use to replenish the pastry case.

As he finished preparing the last drink (an iced hazelnut latte with almond milk and agave), he prepared to go into the back. When he spun around, he noticed there was a tray on the counter that hadn’t been there a minute before: the tray of chocolate croissants.

Dwight stared at the tray, shocked. Was someone else there? No; he would have heard it if anyone else was behind the counter, even while his back was turned. But if he was the only one there, how were these things moving?

Excuse me, sir? Are you okay? asked one of the women.

Dwight shook himself out of his trance and finished the order, drying his hands on a clean towel as the ladies went to sit at the bar by the front window. He was busy for another twenty minutes or so, then finally had the shop to himself—at least, for a little while.

He stood in front of the espresso machines, one eyebrow lifted over his sunglasses.

H-hello? Is there somebody there?

He nearly jumped when behind him, one of the blenders began to blend on the lowest setting. It sounded a little bit like a cat purring.

Chapter Two

To the untrained eye, the building that Paul Holland was observing through his binoculars looked mundane: a typical urban coffee shop. A place where one could pick up a latte, or some frozen concoction with too much sugar. But Paul knew better; he could sense the subtle evil that resonated from the place. He’d been staking out the joint for nearly a week from the third floor in a building diagonally across the street, and he had that buzzing in his gut that he always felt before a big bust.

This is 605 reporting in.

Copy, 605. How’s surveillance work treating you?

Just fine. Better than fine, in fact. I’ve found a huge hub.

A hub? So fast?

Yeah. I’m telling you, I don’t think a deal goes down in this city that doesn’t go through the doors of this café. I’ve seen business types come in for meetings in the back, but also big wigs from construction and sanitation. You should read the reviews of this place: everyone’s complaining that no one in this shop is ever working at the counter, so the service sucks.

And you believe poor service is indicative of the place being an organized crime mecca because...?

Paul sighed. He thought his track record in this area was strong enough that his handler wouldn’t express such skepticism, but it didn’t really matter; he didn’t take it personally. Paul rarely had a reason to take anything personally.

I’ve been talking to some of the locals—you know exactly the kind I mean. Several of them told me in confidence that they wouldn’t start something with anyone from that shop for all the money in the world.

Making contact with assets like that without prior approval is highly dangerous and not at all consistent with your brief.

My brief was to find the action in this area, and I’ve found it. Now I need backup.

"What, tonight?

Tonight, Paul rasped, looking through his binoculars once more. Two girls he had seen before were entering the shop; a petite redhead and a larger girl with shiny black hair. Both were wearing gorgeous party dresses.

Everybody’s been coming in dressed to the nines. It’s obvious some kind of deal is going down tonight. Some of the women look really young, too; I wouldn’t be surprised if they were running an underage prostitution ring out of that shop, on top of the drugs.

Do you know who the leader is?

Paul licked his lips. This was where it started getting really interesting.

Definitely not the manager, he’s one of those stoner types—plays in a band. Way too public to be in charge of something like this. He probably gets paid to look the other way.

Then who?

"There’s a 27-year-old named Khalil Latif, possibly an Iranian National. He has a decent online footprint as an American, but you know that can be faked. Could be him, but it’s more likely Samuel Andrews, whose identity must be faked. He supposedly worked about a dozen low-wage jobs in the past decade, but that’s not convincing. You’re in the room with this guy, you know who’s in charge. Whoever was making up his cover identity probably thought they were being cute, putting ditch-digging in his work history. Just not credible."

Alright, but you’re still asking me to send you a team on the basis of the fact that one guy has a screwy work history and people are spending time at a business that is open for business. How can you be so sure they’re not just popular for their coffee?

Because I’ve had the coffee. Besides, that doesn’t explain why the name of this place puts fear in the hearts of gang-bangers.

What is the name of this...alleged den of iniquity?

The Daily Grind. Only shop with that name in this county.

Give me a sec.

There was a moment of silence, then Paul’s handler seemed to cough and wheeze at the same time."

Harvey?

It seemed to take a few moments for the man to compose himself.

"605, do not do anything regarding that café. Stay where you are and wait for a new assignment."

Paul was so surprised he was stricken silent for a moment.

We could cut off the head of a beast tonight and make the streets safer for all the good people in a 100-mile radius, but you’re making me drop it?

"605, listen to me. This is not only way above your pay grade, it’s above mine—and you know I would never normally tell you something like that. We’re not gonna fight this."

Paul sat back in his chair, feeling the pre-bust butterflies in his stomach transform into a depressed lurch.

Then I guess I have nothing to report.

Exactly. I’ll catch up with you when I have your next assignment.

Will you tell me what’s really going on here then?

Absolutely not.

After the call terminated, Paul took his earpiece out and grimaced. For nearly 20 years, he’d been a good soldier; more than good, to be honest. He didn’t disobey orders without a damn good reason, but something told him that this weird little shop qualified as a damn good reason.

He would eventually come to regret this decision.

Chapter Three

Places, everyone.

Everybody at The Daily Grind took their assigned spots. Cassie sat next to Sam, wearing a sheer blue dress that matched the sapphire hue of her eyes shockingly well. Ethan Buckley and John Golding, Sam’s other familiars—at least, officially—sat nearby. John was in his rat form, perched on Ethan’s lap. The Buckley vampires were guarding the perimeter, snarling. Helena, the new vampire, was sitting at Sam’s feet, running her tongue over her fangs. Khalil stood behind the counter, spinning the Rod of Moses slowly in his hand. Vladmira flew around the room, perching on top of different espresso machines.

David was sitting at a café table, feeling out of place. Feeling warm, he pulled at his collar.

Are we really doing this? David asked quietly.

Dr. Serenus Zeitbloom, who was standing against the wall behind where David was sitting, gave a tight smile.

The time to note your disapproval has passed. Trust me, I tried.

But this is barking, David said. Then the door to the café opened and he shut his mouth.

Pascal, a demon lord and an old enemy of the entourage, sauntered into the shop, followed by three of his vampire servants. He fixed Sam with a cheeky grin.

You’ve put everything I want in one place. How kind of you.

Sam gave a non-committal shrug. He was dressed to the teeth in a tuxedo, so even that small gesture seemed elegant.

I know what you came for. It seemed rude to bother hiding from you, when I can just take care of you right here.

Pascal laughed deeply.

Oh, you’ll ‘take care’ of me, will you? From what I hear, you’re not in a position to be taking care of anyone, Pascal snarled. Admit it, you’ve lost your magic.

Sam was unfazed. I think you should screen your sources more carefully.

Sam began petting Helena’s head, and the vampire moaned happily.

Pascal’s vampires glared at the Buckleys, their fangs extended. The two groups of vampires stared each other down. The Buckleys outnumbered Pascal’s servants two to one, but that didn’t matter much if Pascal himself could easily overpower their master.

Pascal turned to Eugene, who was sitting at the far end of the café.

So, no vampires-turned-special forces today? I was hoping for a rematch.

No, they’re all rather busy in Afghanistan, Eugene said. I can’t expect them to remain on call for whenever I have need of them.

What a shame, Pascal said sarcastically.

David gritted his teeth. The demon knew full well that Eugene’s loyal squad of vampire Navy Seals were out of the country; otherwise, he never would have risked coming here. Who would?

Is there any point to this? Or are you just here to stand around looking impotent? Cassie snarked.

David’s ears burned. He knew this was part of the plan, but did Cassie have to paint quite that big a target on herself?

Pascal turned to look at Cassie, his blue eyes filled with greed.

You. Yes, you will be mine first. I came for Ethan, but you are the bigger prize.

He gestured toward Cassie and she stood up and walked toward him slowly, ensorcelled. She was clearly trying to fight his magic, but he was too strong, and she too pliable. David could tell by the tightness of Sam’s jaw that he was uncomfortable with Pascal exerting control over Cassie, but he managed to stifle any further reaction. In the back, Dmitri and Liam both cursed under their breath.

Want me to step in, Boss? Khalil asked.

Sam shook his head. No. The Rod is too unpredictable.

If you say so, Khalil responded. Still, he was looking at Pascal with murder in his eyes.

When Cassie had reached Pascal, he paused and looked at her for a moment, then ripped her protection amulet off her chest. Everyone gasped.

Sloppy, letting the protection expire. The amulet’s as useless as you are.

The demon whirled Cassie around so that he was standing behind her, breathing over her neck.

Yes, this is what I wanted. Watch as I take all your familiars and make them mine, Son of Sammael. This is the price you pay for humiliating me.

He began fondling Cassie lustfully. Sam stayed still as a statue, his face a mask.

Pascal burst out laughing.

You expect me to believe you still have your magic, yet you let me touch her like this? Ridiculous. The rumors are true; you’re as helpless as a baby.

He is, Cassie said coldly.

There was a pause while everyone in the room processed that.

Still in Pascal’s arms, Cassie turned toward the demon, facing him.

He’s worthless to me now. I need a strong master, like you.

Pascal seemed taken aback. He flushed crimson, and looked Cassie up and down.

Wait, you want to come with me? You—mphff!

The rest of the sentence was unintelligible, since Cassie had stood up on tiptoe to give him a kiss. It was a serious kiss, deep and long.

David felt himself sweating bullets in his stuffy grey suit.

This can’t be part of the plan. Things have already gotten out of hand. What are we going to do?

You’re infringing on another demon’s property. You will have to answer in court for this, Serenus said.

Pascal cackled, pulling Cassie even closer to him.

Court? Court is only for demons, and Sam here no longer qualifies. Court protections no longer apply to him.

He laughed softly and kissed the top of Cassie’s head.

Don’t worry Sam, I won’t prolong the agony for too long. I’ll keep you alive just long enough so you can see me possess all your familiars, then your vampires, then I’ll....

He coughed, then resumed talking.

Th-then I’ll...I’ll give you the end you so richly....

He began coughing again and released Cassie so he could grab at his throat, his eyes widening in panic. Cassie darted away from him as soon as his hands were off her.

It was then that Sam stood.

Yes, your information was correct. I’m just a human now; no more magic, black or otherwise, he said. He yawned casually.

Which could have been a big problem for me when you stupidly let it be known in advance that you were going to come settle the score. Fortunately, thanks to Ethan, I happen to know that you’re deathly allergic to shellfish.

Pascal dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe.

You...the girl...she....

Yup, I’ve been gargling shrimp water all day. God, that was gross, Cassie said, wiping her face furiously with a small towel.

I drank shrimp water too! And it’s in my hair! Ethan piped up.

Yeah, but you’re a less appealing target to get mouthy with. No offense, Khalil explained.

I know, I’m not a girl, Ethan said, his face sullen. I understood the plan.

Pascal managed to reach into his pocket, take out an epi-pen and jab it into his thigh. Before he could recover, Jay stepped out of the shadows with a machine-gun-sized watergun filled with shellfish broth. Billingsly, Dmitri and Liam jumped forward and tackled Pascal’s vampires, stopping them from interfering. Helena and Miri stood over them all and ran their tongues over their fangs, making it clear they’d stop any vampire who tried to escape.

Here, have some more allergy attack, demon scum, Jay said, spraying Pascal in the face. Pascal screamed and pulled at his face, like he was trying to claw his eyes out. Jay kept nailing him with the liquid shellfish, just to be sure.

"It’s like