Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
RAEGAN
T he warm touch of Jamie’s hand on my hip lingers as I watch him disappear around the corner. Jamie’s always been physically affectionate, but his touch has transformed into something more possessive. But not in a scary way—not like Patrick. Jamie claims me as his without showing force. He’s a gentle summer breeze against my winter skin reminding me, and all others, he’s there.
As the days have passed, I find myself wanting to accept the mate bond more and more. Constantly daydreaming about the ways he would claim me, both physically and emotionally, make me forget what I’m doing and lose track of time. The past week has felt like a dream itself. Each time we fall asleep tangled in one another, I find it a little easier to believe this could work, and maybe, this is what Jamie and I were meant to be all along.
The morning passes quickly thanks to the constant flux and flow of traffic in front of the booth. With most of the members of town manning their own stations, the visiting crowd of people is mostly made up of tourists. It’s an interesting dynamic, the relationship between Shadow Hills and outside humans. The paranormals here were given no other choice but to leave the city, though giving them their own town to live freely was made to look like an offer of kindness. Truthfully, most humans might not want to live among paranormals, but they certainly have no problem flocking to see them every Halloween like a spectacle.
I used to think the only reason the town has embraced the tradition of the festival is because of the money it brings in, but residents here actually enjoy dressing up and poking fun at themselves. It’s like an inside joke. They give humans what they want to see, and at the end of the day, they get to keep their real lives to themselves.
As for me, I happily greet every person who comes up to the booth, regardless of who they are. Because despite prejudices, I believe books can bring anyone together. I direct kids to coloring books and Choose Your Own Adventure stories, while pushing the mysteries and spooky romances to the parents. I even take time to say hello to a few of the coven members who stop by looking for books on earth magic. My mother isn’t with them. Secretly, despite our tense conversation on the phone weeks ago, I wish she would have taken the time to check in with her only daughter.
The hours fly by, and soon it’s time for my coworkers to take their breaks. I man the booth alone for the next fifteen minutes, and I’ve fallen into such a steady rhythm that I don’t immediately register the next person in line. The man has a five o’clock shadow, and his shoulders are slumped, so he easily blends into the mass of people surrounding the table, but when I look up and see his cold gray eyes, my heart stops.
I don’t recognize this stranger, but something about him is familiar. I try to place him as I give him a once over, deciding he’s too old to be one of the boys I used to babysit. His hood is pulled over his head and his hand is shoved into his jacket pocket. I see the shape of something bulky protruding through the inner fabric. It’s pointed directly at my stomach. Panicking, I freeze, assuming he has a gun.
Dozens of questions race across my mind. There’s never been a reported shooting in Shadow Hills’ history, so why would this man come here? And why is he aiming that weapon at me? More concerning than that is my uncertainty of whether or not he’ll use that weapon in a crowd of people. Someone could get killed, but my gut tells me I’m his sole target.
My first thought is to duck under the table and hide, but I know that’s not a smart option. I have to get him away from other people, especially the kids, and though my fear is threatening to swallow me whole right now, I take a deep breath and force my body to move.
I slowly inch around the table and away from the line that’s formed, smiling reassuringly at the customers still browsing and telling them I’ll be right back. I make sure to distance myself from the kids as much as possible before making my way from the sidewalk to the street, giving the table a wide berth. All the while, the man keeps his eyes on me.
He doesn’t have to say a word, knowing the threat of him being there is enough to scare me into submission. He jerks his head to the right, aiming for me to follow his direction and move to somewhere secluded. I assume he means to get me in the side alley alone, but that is absolutely not going to happen. I’m not going to make the same mistake with this man that I did with Patrick.
Instead, I push further into the crowd. I know it’s not the smartest thing to do, by hiding among strangers I put everyone around me at risk, but I am counting on the man’s desire to not be noticed. He has to know if he draws attention to himself, the gig is up. It’s why he’s keeping his head low, making sure no one sees his face.
I try to keep enough distance between us so he can’t sneak up on me. He’s definitely here for me, but I can’t pinpoint his plan. Will he try to get me into a car and steal me away somewhere? Or does he just want to kill me and be done with it?
I try to search my memory for any trace of his face as I continue to walk as calmly as possible down the street, sweat running down my back and hands shaking. I’m aiming for the Double Double booth. One look at me and Jamie will know something is wrong. But I don’t want to make another scene like before.
I still don’t know how this man knows me. Was I rude to him at the bookstore one day? Did I cut him off in traffic? A thousand possibilities flood my brain before I reach the seating area beside the Kiki’s Cafe food stand. Jamie and the rest of the Double Double team are on the other side handing out lattes and fancy hot chocolate. There are about four people separating the man from me now as I try to catch Jamie’s eye.
I hope with my entire being that the pull between us can somehow let him know when I’m in trouble. Jamie’s form appears sporadically in the distance as people pass in front of where I’m standing, so I focus all of my attention on him.
Then, as if he’s heard me call his name, he looks up.