The Mug Shop

Carmel Fire

Swirling Death

Cherry Sleep

And Golden Flicker were just a few of the new autumn themed drinks, that Jace’s favorite coffee shop had recently added to their menu. He shook his head knowing exactly which one of the staff at ‘The Mug Shop’ had chosen the very unique drink names.

He stared blearily at the barista in front of him, the teen wasn’t any older than Jace and looked about as happy as he did that he was awake at 5 o’clock in the morning, the sun wasn’t even up. The worker’s lip piercing and the subtle clinking of a chain were part of Lazin’s usual get up, but the cheery orange hat perched on his head threw his entire, carefully crafted vibe straight out the window.

A head of pink hair emerged from the back kitchen, Dahlia, chipper as ever, walking gracefully despite her four-inch platform boots, and the tule monstrosity she tried to pass off as skirt.

Jace waved, “Yo Dahlia.”

She grinned, “Jace what can I get for you?”

He pointed tiredly at the clock, gestured around the shop at all the coffee, then to himself.

              “Right, gotcha” Dahlia let out, reaching past all the fall themed frilly drinks, all dressed up with syrups, and creams, with shots and unholy amounts of sugar, to grab a large styrofoam cup. She filled it about two thirds of the way with straight up black coffee, then emptied an entire can of Red Bull into it.

Lazin scowled at him, “You know that’s going to kill you one day, right? There’s no way that’s good for your heart dude.”

Jace slid his backpack off his shoulders, thumped the textbook his professor had given him the day before down, slapped his delivery route for his job down next, before finally dropping a massive ring of keys, four Chinese ring daggers, and a twelve-inch dagger onto the counter.

Lazin grunted, waving a hand, “Yeah, yeah I get it, I’m doing the same crap as you.”

Dahlia grinned, “I’m not,” she singsonged.

“We know,” they both groaned. “You finished early, you had the best scores in over a century, what a prodigy, blah blah blah.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said sticking a tongue out at the two of them, like the child she was.

Lazin shoved an orange into Jace’s hand when the sleep deprived teen had finished restuffing his backpack. “Dude you need to have something at least remotely healthy in your system.”

Jace grimaced but accepted the fruit all the same.

              “You’ll do fine tonight,” Dahlia reassured him, her tone was even and held no encouragements or false enthusiasm, it was completely calculating and honest. “You know what you’re doing, and you know where you stand, you won’t be far behind me.”

Lazin twirled a small butterfly knife between his fingers, “I mean I’m still up for the, ‘runaway to Bosnia and never come back’ plan.” Dahlia snatched the knife away, “What are you doing? How many times have I told you no weapons at the front counter?”

Lazin didn’t answer, and Jace hurriedly shoved his brass knuckles deeper in his jean pockets. He nodded toward the menu, fixing Dahlia with a look.

              “Your usual creative works, I presume?”

Lazin took a weary step back and looked like he wanted his knife back. Dahlia, still smiling, turned around and fixed yet another collection of strange drink names to the menu, this one in all curly thick black looping letters read;

Neon Pumpkin

Cold Embers

Raked Death

And perhaps the most obnoxious

Fall Girl Ugg Spice

Dahlia grinned so wide it was creepy, raising her eyebrows at him like, ‘Anything else you want to say?’ Jace rolled his eyes, that was Dahlia for you, but he supposed that if he had been stuck in the regiment she had, he’d probably go all out with everything in his personal life. Her regiment was notorious for its strict rules, and by the book outlook on absolutely everything.

A large crack splintered loudly on the front windows, they snapped their gazes up, staring at the cracking glass, it echoed and tightened ominously as smaller cracks grew to life, flecks of the cold surface chipped down. Nothing beyond the window was visible through the early morning darkness.

The sound of blades being dragged over concrete, reached them through the shattering glass, bright sparks shone in the blackness where steel met stone.

Dahlia tossed Lazin back his knife, pulling her own Sais from the tops of her boots, and zipping her pastel pink leather jacket up to her chin for armor.

Lazin unhooked his belt chains, wrapping them deftly around his arms, he tossed his garish orange hat away, pulling his hair up with two menacingly sharp hair pins.

Jace tugged at his hoodie strings, iron polished plates of metal wrapped around his back and shoulder blades, he attached his ring daggers to his belt, and held his dagger, and a longer sword that shone with an unearthly light, at the ready.

They were finished in seconds, and nodded at each other as the glass gave one final, awful SCREEEEEEEECH, before exploding into a thousand glimmering pieces of deadly shrapnel.

With the tone of their situation Jace almost expected monsters of darkness, with glowing red eyes, and gleaming fangs. Instead, what appeared was far, far worse.

Four teenagers, three girls and a boy, dressed in skinny jeans, white converse, and the girls wearing rows of scrunchies on their arms like trophies of war. Their weapons gleamed with a faint golden hue as they stepped through.

One girl, clearly the leader judging by the brand-new Hydro Flask swinging at her hip, and the iPhone triple camera diamond chrome 3000, perched in one pocket.

Lazin paled faster then the Flash could screw up the timestream, Dahlia rolled her eyes and stomped forward grabbing the back of Jace’s collar seconds before he could try to run.

              “Nuh huh,” She told him. “This is your problem, deal with it.” She practically threw him at the brunette holding the razor-sharp sword.

He stumbled and looking up, found himself staring into angry green eyes. He swallowed loudly,

“Hey Victoria, what’s shakin?”

His ex glared down at him, while she smiled with deceptive sticky sweet kindness, “Jace, what did we discuss about who gets to come to the shop on what days?”

              Jace flicked her Hydro flask, “Check your calendar again, Vicky.”

She looked past him like he wasn’t there. “He still forgets that daylight savings time is a thing, doesn’t he?” She asked Dahlia, the pretentions pink haired girl, snorted and nodded a yes.

              “Ah,” Victoria said looking unsurprised, pushing past him with her companions close behind, sheathing and holstering their weapons as they sat at the counter.

              “So,” Victoria pulled out her wallet, “You have Pumpkin Spice Lattes yet?”