Chapter Two
My father never tried to be a consistent man, rarely a stable figure in my life. But two things never changed: he loved his work more than anything, and he planned to leave for an adventure to find something more. Why? I had no clue, and I didn’t care.
But if I said I’d rather have my irritable bowel syndrome kick in while stuck in a crowded room with no lavatory in sight than go home—I wouldn’t be joking.
The door to our office creaked open a sliver as Maggie slipped in.
“What are you doing?” Maggie’s voice startled me where I’d been hiding, surrounded by unfinished paperwork and unorganized receipts.
“Is that guy still out there?” I nodded toward the shop, pressed against the wall as if it could hide me further.
Maggie tilted her head. “The one with a scary gaze and satchel who came in right before you barreled in here and slammed the door shut? Yes, he is. Do you know him?”
“He’s from my hometown.”
When her eyes widened, it was obvious she knew exactly how dire this had to be if he’d come out to hunt me down here. “The hometown you accidentally set on fire?”
Ah, there was that. You accidentally burn down one town center and get labeled an arsonist. “Yes,” I whisper-yelled. “That would be the one. And it wasn’t me, it was the hellblazers.”
The fire-spitting chickens.
“Well, what does he want?”
Grinding my teeth, I slumped into the wall with a sigh. I’d run from this for three years, but it seemed my past had finally caught up with me.
“He’s the business commissioner, so most likely, nothing good,” I said, skittering around the question.
Maggie popped a hip. “Reece,” she demanded, “what is he here for?”
I glared at her, arms crossed. A long, awkward silence passed, both of us locked in a standoff of wills. An unyielding staring contest only fueled the smothering tension between us.
I finally conceded.
“You aren’t going to like it.” No lies could be found; she wouldn’t want to hear about my leaving, either.
Scrunching her brows, my friend wasn’t backing down. “Do you think it’s possibly something important? Considering the lengths he went to to come here in person?”
I swallowed, rocking on my feet as the idea bounced around in my mind, yet it did nothing to subdue the nerves. I knew it must be urgent if he came here from Honey Brooke, but that didn’t make me any more eager to speak with him. But I needed to. “Perhaps.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back.”
Only she didn’t come back alone. His voice came from the shop, a cold and short “thank you” as she opened the door. No, she didn’t. But yes, she did.
Face-to-face with Alaric himself, I bit back my displeasure and kept my murderous glares for Maggie between glances. My stomach churned like butter. I plastered a fake smile over my face, and I tried not to vomit.
“Alaric Parrington,” I greeted him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He didn’t blink. No twitch of the mouth. No pulsing muscle in his jaw. The commissioner stood there, emotionless and stern. “Reece McCarthen, we have business to discuss.”
I gave a sorry, pathetic, tight-lipped grin and nodded, closing the door to the office, which happened to be equivalent to trapping myself in a cave with a hungry vulture.
Let’s see, would it be about the incident with the fire-spitting chickens burning a building to ash three years ago, or my estranged father… or his sanctuary for magical creatures? Something else?
Quickly shuffling through memories I tried to keep locked away, I scoured for anything that might’ve led to this.
Obviously, the incident with the chickens, yes, but what else?
There was that one time at school with the chemicals and the kid’s brows I’d accidentally burned.
Or when I’d worked at the local market and mixed up the sleeping elixir and the pain-relieving elixir.
I took half the town out before we realized what had happened. Or maybe it was about—
“Are you going to ask me to sit?”
Lurching forward, I nearly choked on my words. “Yes.” I gestured to the chairs in front of our thrifted wooden desk, stumbling over my feet. “Of course, please.”
Our office wasn’t anything spectacular… if you didn’t know it was an office, you’d probably never guess.
The walls were covered with clippings of our shop in the town’s newsletter, the desk was devoured by preorders, and the folders stacked on top were overflowing with Maggie’s color-coded tags (which I knew nothing about).
Crossing my legs and perching myself taller over the surface, I folded my hands and turned my panicking eyes cold. I was innocent, no reason to act otherwise. Or at least I told myself as much. “You said there was business to be discussed?”
“Yes.” Alaric plopped his satchel in front of me and dug through it, pulling out papers. “Your father has left town.” Not the chicken incident. Okay? “Permanently.”
Oh. My world came to an abrupt stop as his words sank in because of what they meant.
My father had always said he planned to up and leave one day for a grand journey, something about a search for the dragons.
“It’s in our blood,” he’d say because his father went on the same kind of adventure, the differences being (1) he didn’t abandon everything to do so, and (2) he actually found dragons—or a dragon, to be specific.
But it couldn’t fly and had been badly injured by poachers.
Thus, the family sanctuary for magical creatures was born.
My family’s greatest treasure, the town’s pride and joy.
But I never believed he would do the same. Or had the adventurous spirit even.
He actually did it. He did it and he didn’t… he never tried to—I shouldn’t have been surprised he hadn’t reached out. We weren’t close anymore. It was that exact family legacy I’d left behind, after all. Swallowing, I resumed my place in the conversation. “And this is relevant to me how?”
Alaric’s glare poured into me; his downturned eyes were heavy. Bored, tired, or irritated, he didn’t seem to enjoy his work. “He’s left the sanctuary to you.”
Oh. My. Gods. If my pathetic excuse of a stern look and straight spine somehow managed to hide my nervousness beforehand, it definitely showed through now.
I dropped my jaw and gawked as if I’d heard him wrong.
Maybe I had. The whole thing… my family’s life’s work…
their legacy. The room started shrinking. “He—he, um”—I shook my head—“he what?”
“Your father has left McCarthen’s Sanctuary for Magical Creatures to you.”
A home for animals that had been injured, mistreated, and even tortured for their magical qualities.
I blinked rapidly. No… it wasn’t possible. “Are you sure? He actually signed it over to me? Reece McCarthen?” Alaric’s deadpan stare told me he was tired of ridiculous questions. “When did this happen? Did he leave a note, a letter, or anything at all?”
“He contacted us three days ago to update the sanctuary’s pass of ownership. We were notified by a neighbor of his departure. I do not have the other answers you seek.”
Fair enough. “Has he already left?”
“To my understanding.”
I huffed, unsurprised at my father’s lack of communication with his own daughter.
One might think leaving with no planned return date would call for a letter at the very least, but not with Chester McCarthen.
No, after my mother died, his grief had consumed him.
He shut out everyone that wasn’t a magical creature, including me—especially me.
Shaking it off, I resumed the conversation. “Who’s watching it right now?”
“Family friend.”
“Right.” Probably Harvey Stiller, my father’s friend. Too bad he couldn’t keep it. He and his wife owned the town bakery. I squeezed my hands into fists. “And what am I supposed to do with it, then?”
Alaric unfolded his hands and straightened his spine. “You have two options. One: sell it. Two: own it.”
Own it? The words repeated in my head. My jaw tightened, stressed.
My whole life would be uprooted. The life I’d built and worked for, the relationships, the shop.
Biting my cheek, I contemplated if I’d be able to do this.
To care for all of the magical creatures.
I couldn’t tell if my heart pounded or didn’t beat at all. I felt numb.
Everything in me wanted to scream no, to say I didn’t want to get sucked back in, to yell that I’d closed the door to that life and made a new one here.
But I couldn’t. The thought of returning home to Honey Brooke had my stomach roiling, my head aching, and a sort of bitterness biting up to the surface.
Old memories flashed in my mind, images branded into me for self-torture. The flames engulfing the town center. The screams. The glares. The whispers when Laken left.
“What happens to the creatures if I sell?”
Alaric shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Well, Ms. McCarthen, if you are unwilling to take it over, you could at the very least make a profit in relinquishing it. There is always interest in magical creatures.” Meaning they’d be sold to the highest offer.
Gods. I knew where most of them came from, the horrors they’d escaped.
The slight flinch in the corner of his eyes, the way his lips pulled tight…
it was the first time throughout this entire conversation I’d seen a legit reaction from him.
I leaned until my head hit wood. Then, I sat there, face down.
“There is always interest in magical creatures…”
Those animals were rescues pulled from unimaginable places and found in despicable conditions. They were rare, special. I still cared for them, despite our… history.
Born and raised surrounded by the creatures, I’d dreamed of running the place as a child. My family had filled it with love and joy and a light I hadn’t seen since my mother passed.
I had been pushed away and shoved to the side, my father refusing to teach me. After I (accidentally) burned the town center and lost who I thought was the love of my life, I left what I thought of as home behind.