Chapter 5 #2
Miles could feel Nadia’s sincerity through his exhausted shields, hear it in their voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” He didn’t know if he agreed with it completely, but he didn’t have the right to judge Nadia or their clients.
Charlee didn’t apologize but there was a gleam of interest in her eyes as she studied Nadia. If no one else was here right now, he suspected she’d pick their brain for more information.
“So, what do you have that can help Miles?” Emily asked.
Gabriel beat Nadia to an answer. “Nothing so far. But there are still—”
“I’m sorry, but if you were going to find something, you would’ve already.”
“I can’t believe that in your entire collection, you don’t have one thing that could help. A way to reveal the killer, or control my premonitions so I can see more, or an object to protect Miles…” He trailed off with a frustrated noise. “I refuse to accept this was a waste of time.”
“Refuse all you want, it doesn’t change the fact that what you’re looking for isn’t here. I warned you that most of what we carry isn’t made to save people.”
Miles felt no disappointment. The second Gabriel had explained what he was doing here, he’d known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Still”—Nadia pushed away from the counter, jostling the porcelain cat—“just because you didn’t find what you were looking for, doesn’t mean you have to leave empty-handed.”
They vanished into the backroom, cardboard rustling and glasses clanking. When they reemerged, they held two objects: a clear jar like Miles’s mom made pickles in, and a narrow shape tucked under one arm.
“I’m not gifted,” they explained, “but items will reach out to me occasionally, give me a nudge if they want to go with someone. It’s a sort of intuition.”
“And these two…” Miles started.
“Want to go with you. Take or leave them, it’s up to you, but I’d recommend listening to the forces at work. Usually there’s a good reason when they speak up.”
More of the universe yanking them around. He was so sick of it.
“This one’s for you.” Nadia handed the long item to Gabriel. “It’s been reacting since you first got here.”
Gabriel unsheathed it. It was a dagger with a worn wooden hilt and a pointed silver blade about half a foot long. Simple and plain in a way that only made it more sinister. It didn’t feel evil like the grimoire or Florence’s ring, but it radiated a chill.
He slid it back into its sheath and set it on the counter, like touching it repulsed him. “I don’t want this.”
Nadia made no move to take it back. “You’re going to need it.”
“Why? Why this?”
“I have no idea, I’m just the messenger. All I know is that this knife never does anything by half-measure—it deals killing blows only, and it can kill anything, so make sure you mean it before you point it at someone.”
A charged silence fell over the room. Everyone had to be thinking the same thing—was this the knife that would save Gabriel’s life? If it came down to kill or be killed, would he be able to use it?
“I don’t want it,” he said faintly.
“Then don’t take it. I can’t make you. But know that you might regret not having it.”
“Take it,” Miles insisted. It didn’t mean he had to use it. But having that knife when he needed to defend himself could mean the difference between living and dying.
After a long moment, Gabriel picked it up.
“This one,” Nadia declared, turning to Miles, “is for you.”
The jar was full of cloudy liquid, a fleshy blob floating in it. “What is it?”
“It’s one of the rarest things in this shop, so be careful with it. I’m loaning it to you, not giving it. I expect it back.” They twisted the metal lid, making sure it was fully sealed. “Have you ever heard that cheesy Hallmark crap about letting your heart be your compass?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” But Emily and Charlee both nodded.
“Well, now you have. And take that literally. This is the heart of a pure black fox that was shot by an oak arrow under a new moon in a field of feverfew. When you’re lost, it will show you the way.”
It was packing serious magic. That didn’t make it any less disgusting. “Should I… expect to get lost?”
Now that Blanche was gone, his driving time had been cut down significantly. And he rarely left Thistle, whose streets he knew well enough to navigate while half-asleep and nursing a concussion.
“I certainly wouldn’t count it out.”
Great. One more ominous warning to worry about.
Miles turned to Gabriel as Nadia snagged a notepad from under the register, scribbling. “Why’d you get the badass weapon and I get a nasty organ in a jar?”
It was a strange, uncomfortable thing to realize that in the last weeks, he’d gotten so used to Gabriel’s small smiles, it hollowed out his chest when he didn’t get one.
Gabriel’s pensive gaze flicked between the two items. “Fitting, I suppose.”
Before Miles could ask, Nadia ripped the paper they’d scribbled on and handed it to Charlee with a grin. “And this is for you.”
Miles peered over—it was a phone number.
Charlee didn’t react. “Is this another intuition thing?”
“I sure hope so.”
She rolled her eyes, but tucked the paper into her pocket.
Leaning into Miles, Emily whispered, “Should I be offended I’m the only one going home empty-handed?”
“You want the magical GPS heart?” He shook it, the liquid sloshing.
“Please, I have an amazing sense of direction.”
Charlee stood, kicking her stool under the counter. “Let’s head back before Aunt Sarah sends out a search party.”
Miles’s gut gave a nervous lurch.
“Dare I ask what car we’ll be riding in?” Gabriel inquired dryly. “And if it would be faster to simply walk home?”
Typical. He thought Gabriel had learned a thing or two after Blanche, but apparently not.
Charlee whirled around so fast, it was a miracle her head didn’t fly off.
“Let’s get one thing clear. After the hell you put Miles through this week, the only reason I’m not throwing your ass out of my car the moment we hit full speed on the freeway is because in some idiotic way, you thought you were helping him.
But give me one reason, Hawthorne, one more entitled comment, and I swear, you’re going to learn what pavement tastes like. ”
Gabriel nodded solemnly. Miles wished they’d both stop being so damn dramatic.
“Let’s just go,” he urged, cradling his heart-jar carefully.
Nadia ushered them out onto the rain-splattered sidewalk. “Good luck. Hope you don’t die and all that.”
“Uh, thanks. I think.”
He caught his reflection in the glass shopfront window, his own face staring back at him once again.