Chapter 5 #2
“Not particularly,” Selene hedged. She didn’t know if it was okay to just come out and ask about Avondale’s magic, and it felt risky to make any assumptions. “Just exploring the town. I moved here recently. Recently, as in yesterday.”
“Did you now?” The woman’s eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” Selene replied, taken aback by the sharp suspicion of the question. “I’m a . . . was a friend, a close friend, of Emma Bancroft.”
“Oh, my heart.” Those narrowed eyes went wide and filled with sympathy, and her hands flew to press the space on her chest over the vital organ she’d invoked.
Whatever reservations the woman held about Selene seemed to vanish.
“Emma was just a darling. And her daughter is the loveliest girl. We were all devastated when we heard the news.”
Selene’s throat tried to close, but she answered. “Yes. I’m . . . um . . . I’ll be taking care of Allison now. I moved to Avondale so I could do that.”
The woman rested her hand on top of Selene’s, which Selene hadn’t realized was clinging white-knuckled to the edge of the counter.
“That is true friendship,” the woman told Selene. “Welcome to Avondale . . .”
“Selene.” Selene filled in the obvious gap. “Selene Jones. Thank you. And you are?”
“Betty,” the woman replied, smiling. “This is my bookstore.”
“Pleased to meet you, Betty,” Selene replied, her returning smile genuine. “I love your store already.” She took a deep breath. “The scent alone.”
“I know,” Betty said, looking pleased. “Nothing better in the world than the smell of books.”
“Definitely a contender.” Selene grinned.
“Oh, I like you.” Betty laughed. “Now that we know each other, is there anything I can point you toward?”
“Not really,” Selene replied. “Is it okay if I wander?”
“Of course,” Betty said.
“Thank you, Betty.” Selene made a silent promise to buy at least a dozen books, appreciating Betty’s kindness.
“My pleasure,” Betty replied. “Enjoy.”
“I know I will.” Selene smiled again before she meandered into the stacks. “Be back soon.”
“Soon” turned out to be a miscalculation.
Not only was the store even larger than it appeared, its stacks were labyrinthine, full of cozy nooks and hidden corners.
Despite all the shelves bursting with books, Selene couldn’t find anything beyond standard mythology texts when it came to magic.
Everything else that featured the paranormal was fiction.
Oh well, if I can’t do research, at least I can read for pleasure.
After selecting a couple of mysteries, Selene hunted down the young adult section and picked a few books she thought Allie might like. Continuing her exploration, she perused the aisles, pausing at a table marked by the sign Betty’s Favorites.
Selene smiled as she picked up a book that featured an old-school bodice ripper cover. A woman swooning in a diaphanous gown that slipped from her shoulders was bathed in moonlight while a massive wolf stalked her from the shadows.
With a little laugh, Selene added the book to her pile. She loved a good romance, though she tended to favor rom-coms over fantasy. But if Betty recommended the book, Selene was happy to give it a try.
She was about to move on when the skin at the back of her neck prickled.
Though she hadn’t heard any footsteps, she sensed someone behind her, closing in quickly.
Turning to greet the other bookshop patron—or maybe it was Betty coming to check on her—Selene painted on a friendly smile.
Her pleasant mien dissolved when the aisles at her back were empty.
I could have sworn . . . She frowned. Whatever she thought she’d sensed had been conjured by her imagination. Given recent events, it would be very easy for Selene to imagine all manner of disturbing things.
Selene tamped down an irrational urge to hurry back to the front of the store, not only because it was silly but also because she wanted to see just how big this bookshop was.
She continued toward the back, picking up more books along the way.
She’d need to cut herself off soon. The pile she carried was getting unwieldy, and she had to carry it all the way back to Emma’s house.
My house, she reminded herself, wondering if she’d ever get used to that. My house and Allie’s house.
The store lights were dimmer and the shadows deeper in the rear of the store, and open bookshelves were replaced by locked glass cases.
Antique and presumably rare books in beautiful bindings sat in neat rows on the other side of the glass.
Selene peered into the cases but was unable to discern what the contents of the books could be as they hailed from a time before titles were printed on the spines.
She straightened abruptly, going still as her heart gave an uneasy thud, because there it was again.
That feeling that she wasn’t alone. This time she didn’t try to look for anyone but kept her gaze on the case while she listened for any sign that her instincts weren’t leading her astray.
There was someone, there had to be, because her skin was practically humming with awareness.
Closing her eyes, Selene sank into her other senses and waited.
What compelled her to do this rather than simply search the stacks for whoever might be there, she neither knew nor understood.
Only that her gut insisted she let it happen.
And then she heard it. A low, steady rumbling.
Her eyes snapped open because that had definitely been a growl. Something was growling in the back of the store.
Surely Betty didn’t have a guard dog patrolling the back of the store. And if she did, why didn’t she offer any warning?
Maybe this is a restricted section. Selene hadn’t noticed any signs warning that the locked cabinets were out of bounds, or barriers separating the rare books collection from the rest of the store.
And if I’ve trespassed into a forbidden part of a store in a magical town, maybe it isn’t a dog that’s growling. Maybe it’s something much worse.
The heavy thud of her pulse became a frenetic scamper as she debated her next move. Yes, she’d heard the growl, but she had yet to see the dog, or whatever it was, which meant, in theory, it hadn’t spotted her?
Selene recalled that the worst thing you could do when confronted by an aggressive animal was run. Something about triggering a prey instinct? That knowledge was hardly comforting because, at this point, she really, really wanted to bolt to the front of the store.
She wasn’t certain where the growl had come from, but since she hadn’t run into any creatures on her way into this section, it followed that retracing her steps cautiously was the wisest course.
Backing away slowly and expecting a snarling beast to stalk out of the darkness at any moment, Selene decided that if something did lunge at her, she’d hurl the stack of novels at it.
That should at least buy her a few seconds to make an escape.
The lights above her grew brighter as she moved cautiously away from the locked cabinets, throwing an occasional glance over her shoulder, both to check for signs of the dog and to make sure she didn’t ram into a shelf.
She couldn’t hear the growling any longer, and the bookcases on either side of her were once again the mundane bookshop sort, which she hoped meant she’d reached minimum safe distance.
Deciding it was worth the risk, Selene spun around . . . and crashed into a wall.
She let out a yelp. The books in her arms went flying as she stumbled back, having bounced off . . . not a brick wall, but the hard muscles of a man’s chest covered by a gray Henley.
Flustered, Selene didn’t know whether to apologize for running into someone because she’d been walking backward or demand where that someone had come from, because really, couldn’t they have gotten out of the way?
Rather than doing either, she crouched and began to reorganize the books into a manageable stack.
“Let me help you carry those,” a quiet but deep voice offered.
She glanced up at him. And froze.
Oh. My. God.
Selene had never encountered a person in real life who could have modeled for the cover of a romance novel. And she’d never literally run into one.
But this guy . . . from the broad, wall-like chest to the tousled ash-brown hair that fell around his gray eyes and framed his sharp jawline, he could have jumped right out of any number of stepbacks (which were secretly Selene’s favorite part of romance covers).
Well, he would probably need to lose his shirt first, or rip it in some way . . .
Not helpful, Selene.
As she attempted to steer her brain in a reasonable direction, he knelt beside her and picked up one of the scattered books.
The stranger chuckled as he read the title. “Nocturne’s Burden, a tale of forbidden desire. Well, it looks fascinating, to say the least.”
Selene groaned inwardly. Of all the books, that was the one he had to look closely at?
She opened her mouth to reply, but his smile stole her words and made her knees weak.
The shadow of stubble on his chin and jaw along with his Henley, jeans, and scuffed boots gave him a relaxed, outdoorsy look.
He appeared to be thirty . . . ish. Younger than her, but maybe not .
. . too much younger? He was tall, with a lean frame, and if crashing into him was any indication, there was nothing but muscle underneath his clothes.
And now she was thinking about how that strong body felt, even briefly, against hers.
Forcing her gaze back to his smile didn’t help because it drew her attention to his full, sculpted lips.
She realized she was staring when he began to pick up the rest of the books on the floor, and she quickly looked away.
“It’s one of Betty’s recommendations,” Selene belatedly replied to his comment about the romance novel.
He glanced at her, and his smile became a grin. “Then it’s a good pick. Betty has excellent taste.”