Tales of Ye Olde Towne Coffee

Prologue

Of Endings and Beginnings…

The writer sighed as he looked at the now empty building space that, until a couple weeks ago, had been his favorite coffee house. For some people, the closure of Bay Street Coffee House was a momentous occasion, but that was out of hatred and general spite towards the owner which was really undeserved. Then there were those like the writer who saw the place for what it really was; a quiet refuge, a place to relax, and yes…heal from the occasional emotional wounds inflicted by a sometimes unforgiving world.

For the writer, it was much more than that, a source of inspiration that helped revitalize his long stagnating imagination. For the last couple years, he felt his creativity slipping away mostly due to stress and, to be honest, sheer laziness. In a couple years, any dreams he had of writing any story probably would probably have ceased to be. When he walked into that coffee house, something magical happened. That elusive creative spark returned and the words had begun to flow. New ideas, new stories, new worlds…all of them started to form in his mind and came to reality in his notebook or on his laptop.

And then it was gone, suddenly closed down and stripped down to an empty shell. All those good times, good memories…gone.

The writer stared through the window into the empty space that had once been his proverbial “home away from home” and shook his head. “Never had a chance to say good-bye,” he said to himself.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a mewling sound which made him look down at the source of noise. A calico cat had its paws up on the front window, looking in and continuing to mewl softly for a few more seconds before dropping back to the ground. It looked up at him and mewled again.

“Yeah, I know,” said the writer. He knelt down and scratched the cat behind ears. “I miss the place too.” He glanced back at the empty space. “Good-bye.” He turned back to face the calico and found that the cat was gone. He shook his head and smiled as he stood back up. “Well, all good things do come to an end, I guess.”

He made his way down the street towards another café called The Dark Drop. He almost felt guilty about going to another place, but there was no other place to go. He had nothing against the Dark Drop, but it just didn’t feel right. A few minutes later, he was sitting at a table, waiting for his laptop to boot up as he took a sip of iced tea. He looked out the window at the still empty space down the street and saw that the calico had returned, sitting in front of the door as if taking up some sort of vigil. A smile formed on his lips as he accessed his word processor program.

“Gone, but not forgotten,” said the writer. He took another sip of his iced tea before putting it down and then started to type.

* * * * *

The Vegas strip...you can't help but love it. It's the only place in the world where you can have a gazillion Elvis sightings, a couple murders, several drug deals, fights, and other assorted activities that tourists are all too willing to pay to be a part of. However, I wasn't a tourist and I was only there for business. My name is Jesse McCade and I kill people...it's a living.

Now before you make some snap judgment and think I'm some cold-blooded murderer, let me explain. I'm one of those few people who maintain the balance between both the magical world and the normal mundane one that a majority of the world accepts as their definition of "the real world". Don't ask me to elaborate any farther because explaining this gives me a headache. But here's the short version: Rogue vampires illegally hunting outside their territory, call me. Demonic overlord trying to carve himself a little kingdom here by bringing about some disaster of apocalyptic proportions, call me. Boogie man coming out of the closet to terrorize little Johnny and Suzie at night, call me. Bill Gates comes up with another piece of demonic programming passing itself as the next version of Windows...I can't kill him, but I'll break the legs of all the programmers involved with putting the program together.

This latest job had me tracking down a vampire named David Montrose who apparently thought the Vegas strip was a 24/7 "all you can eat" buffet. Thankfully, he wasn't an elder vampire with plans of building a nest...I hate wasting a bunch of newly created 'suckers, they tend to be messy when they go out. I spotted my target as he made his way down the strip, pausing in front of the Emerald Palm Hotel and Casino. There was a smug grin as he smiled at the various people going in and out of the building and it really pissed me off...it was the kind of look I saw on people who looked like they were getting a bargain on groceries or something. Well, I thought to myself as I felt my wand slip out of its special compartment in the sleeve of my jacket and into my hand, it's time to wipe that grin off his face. I made my way across the street with a group of tourists who looked like they might as well wear signs that said 'Eat Me! I'm from out of town!'

Montrose must have thought the same thing because he immediately struck up conversation with an attractive blonde who was probably part of a group of sorority girls on holiday. I pretended to stagger drunkenly into the woman, knocking her aside.

"Hey, watch it!" she snapped.

"Yeah," growled Montrose, "watch where you're going...you...idiot?" His voice trailed off when he got a look at me. "Oh shit."

"Buffet's closed, Davey," I said, bringing my wand up.

Montrose suddenly grabbed the blonde and shoved her into me, sending both of us to the ground and ran down the street, shoving more people aside.

"Dammit, Davey, I really don't have time for this shit."

I took off after him, wand in hand. I privately wished I had brought a gun with me, it might not have killed him, but it would hurt him long enough to slow him down. At least he was still a fledgling and not able to fly yet. Instead, it was easy to follow the crazed madman leaping over cars and shoving people aside. It's interesting to note that when people panic and run, they are easy to follow in a crowd because they're the ones shoving and running for cover...I guess Montrose heard of my reputation and lost it. If he had simply slowed down and acted casually, I might have lost him in the crowd.

I caught up with him in front of a small building, tackling him to the ground. "Okay, Davey, time to take you home to the counc-" I was cut off as he threw me through the front door of the building, knocking the hard wooden doors off their hinges before I landed flat on my back. "Ow."

Montrose stepped through the door and stooped to pick something up before standing over me. That's when I realized that it was my wand that I had dropped when I hit the door. "Well, well...the infamous Jesse McCade," he sneered, baring his fangs as he grabbed me by the throat and held me up in the air. "Young and stupid, aren't ya?"

Before I could gasp out a response, I heard someone clear their throat. "Excuse me, but this is a private ceremony," they drawled. "I'm goin' to have to ask you to leave."

We both turned to look in the direction of the voice and part of me, despite the fact I was being partially choked to death, was laughing at what we saw. Elvis Presley, well...an Elvis impersonator anyway, was dressed up in what appeared to be some sort of religious looking clothes while a couple stood in front of him holding hands. Apparently, they were in the act of exchanging rings.

I looked back at Montrose and also saw the slight look of disbelief on his face. "A wedding chapel?" I managed to choke out. "You're going to kill me in a wedding chapel?"

Montrose contemplated that for a moment before shrugging it off. "Oh well, whatever works." He then threw me against one of the walls where I knocked over a nearby cross before landing in a heap.

I rolled and grabbed the fallen cross, holding it up in front of me as I got up off the ground. "Big mistake, Davey." That's when I realized he was smiling and shaking his head. "Whoa...hold on, I'm holding a cross and you're not in agony."

"Nope," he chuckled as he tossed my wand over his shoulder. "This is Vegas, baby! The rules don't apply here."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Well, damn," I said, mentally filing away that little detail. "I didn't know that." Then I swung the cross down hard, the metal edge of it embedding itself in his shoulder. He winced in pain and stumbled back a couple steps, giving me enough time to kick him in the chest. He fell to the ground and I grabbed my wand.

He pulled the cross out of his shoulder and swung it at me, hitting me in the hand and knocking my wand loose again. "Oh no you don't," he hissed.

"Fine," I said as I suddenly reached out with my other hand, a ball of flame forming around my fist as I hit him in the chest. "I guess I don't get the capture bonus from the Council."

My fist plunged into his ribcage and he stared down, a horrified look on his face for a moment before screaming in agony as I turned up the heat, burning him from the inside out. Then he exploded, sending flaming body parts everywhere before they eventually disintegrated. The groom fainted right away at the sight while the bride looked at the singed stain where some remains had landed on her dress.

"Eeeeeewwwww!" she said. "This dress cost three hundred bucks, asshole."

However, the Elvis impersonator didn't seem bothered by this. He looked at me and then at the smoldering half-disintegrated skeleton on the floor. "Huh...an actual bloodsucker in Vegas...guess it was bound to happen sooner or later."

I sighed as I picked my wand up off the ground and grabbed my cell-phone out of my coat. I dialed a number and waited until someone picked up at the other end. "Yeah, it's McCade. I've dealt with Montrose, he didn't come quietly so I guess you keep the bonus money."

The vampire on the other end of the line seemed pleased, probably happy that he didn't have to pay me the extra money. He thanked me, informed me that my initial fee would be transferred to my account in a week, and hung up. I hate vampires...they're misers when it comes to paying someone, but at least I knew they would pay me my ten-thousand. As I closed the phone, I felt someone tapping my shoulder. I turned around and saw the angry young woman pointing at the stains on her dress.

"What are you going to do about this?"

"Excuse me? I just saved your lives here." I then pointed at her unconscious husband-to-be. "Shouldn't you check on him?"

"He'll be fine, besides, I only need him long enough to empty his bank account...now, about this dress."

You know, I'm not generally one to abuse my magical ability, but this is one of those times I was sorely tempted to turn her into a overweight slob to go with her attitude, but I managed to keep my anger in check. "A simple 'thank you for saving my life' should be enough."

"But you still owe me three hundre-" she was cut off as I cast a spell at her. A blank expression formed on her face and she stood there emotionlessly which, to be honest, was an improvement over her previous attitude.

"I do not owe you anything," I said, trying not to laugh at the fact that I sounded like Obi-wan from the old Star War movies.

"You do not owe me anything," she repeated, her mind still under my control.

I was tempted to make her a love-slave to the unconscious guy, but decided not to do that. I may have some flexible morals, but come on, even I have scruples. Instead, I decided to do something about her attitude. "When I leave this building, you will wake up and not remember what happened from the moment you saw me until the moment I leave, however you will realize that you don't want to marry this man."

"I don't want to marry this man..."

"No, in fact, you're going to tell him that you don't think this is a good idea and that you're going to take off and join the Peace Corps for a year or two to help out those less fortunate."

The Elvis impersonator managed to stifle a laugh at that last suggestion. I smiled back at him and then left the building, hailed an oncoming cab, and got in. After I gave the cab driver instructions to take me to the airport, my cell-phone rang.

"Ello, McCade's house of fine torture, agony, and other assorted pleasures for the deviant mind, we take cash, checks, and all major credit cards."

"Okay, that's very disturbing coming from you," said the person on the other end of the line.

"Henry?" I was surprised to hear the troll at the other end of the phone. "What are you calling me for? I'm working on an assignment."

"Yes, well, if you don't want the good news, I can hang up."

"Whoa...hold on. I got the place?"

"Well," said Henry. "it‘s not official, but the owner wants to meet you face to face tomorrow to finalize the deal."

"Tomorrow?" I repeated, noting the panic in my voice. "That means I need to catch the next flight out now."

"Well, you could just magic your way over here.”

“You know I can’t do that, Henry, not without attracting attention.” I pulled the airline ticket for LA out of my pocket. “There’s no way I can just talk to the man on the phone and make the deal?”

“Sorry Jesse,” said Henry. “But he was rather adamant about that. He said he wanted a face to face meeting tomorrow at eleven in the morning or the deal is off.”

I sighed in resignation and shook my head. "Okay, I guess I'll be heading home instead of LA then. See you in a few hours."

"Later, Jess."

I closed the phone and leaned back in the seat. Part of me was upset that I had to ditch my vacation plans, but it was balanced by the fact that I, Jesse McCade, magical assassin and part time slacker, was about to realize my dream of owning my own legitimate business. At that moment, I realized that this was a chance to get out of my crazy little life and try to be normal for a change.

Yeah...right...as if...