Chapter Twenty-Four #2
‘I think we all know that’s not true,’ Lydia groaned. ‘Looks like we’re ordering Starbucks. Unless you want to pick it up on your way back, oh dearest brother of mine?’
Leaning over to lace up his running shoes, Jackson glanced up, his troubled brown eyes meeting mine.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I don’t.’
His sister sighed, then brightened half a second later.
‘Maybe Wyn will go!’ she suggested.
Jackson’s only response was the sound of the door closing loudly behind him.
‘He definitely won’t be asleep now,’ Lydia commented, taking another drink of juice and pulling a face. ‘What is in this? It’s foul.’
‘That’s because it’s healthy,’ I replied, watching Jackson’s head bobbing past the kitchen window, his face still stormy. ‘Why don’t we go out for breakfast. On me?’
‘Girls’ trip? There are a few stores I’ve been wanting to check out and I want to pick up a new bathing suit.’
‘I’ve spent half my life sitting outside changing rooms.’ Wyn strolled into the kitchen, T-shirt, shorts and hair sleep rumpled. ‘I have four female cousins, Lyds, I’ve seen things in Zara you wouldn’t believe.’
‘That’s what you get for shopping at Zara,’ she pouted. ‘You’re not invited.’
‘You forced me out of my bed at six a.m. to come on vacation with you, and twenty-four hours later you’re dragging my girlfriend away and I’m not allowed to come with?’
‘Nailed it.’
‘Cold,’ he said, pouring a tall glass of water from the refrigerator. ‘Ice cold.’
‘We won’t be long,’ I told him, trying to reassure him without sounding Lydia’s alarms at the same time. ‘We could all meet up for lunch maybe?’
‘Maybe,’ Lydia cautioned. ‘Maybe.’
‘You sure you’re good?’ he asked quietly when Lydia turned her attention to her phone, muttering to herself under her breath.
‘If I need you, I’ll let you know,’ I said, drifting closer to him, irresistibly drawn as ever.
‘I know you won’t need me.’ Wyn gently brushed away a speck of sleep still clinging to the corner of my eye. ‘But let me know if you want me.’
‘Always.’
‘Jeez you sap.’ Rolling her eyes, Lydia shook her head. ‘Honestly, anyone would think you hadn’t seen each other for a month or something.’
I gave her a look.
‘We haven’t.’
She gagged and clapped her hands twice.
‘That was two days ago. Come on, let’s get out of here before he changes his mind and I have to surgically separate the two of you. You’ve got five minutes to get dressed and we’re out of here.’
On her way back upstairs, she swiped Jackson’s car keys from the kitchen counter.
‘We’re taking Jackson’s car?’ I said, alarm bells ringing in my ears.
‘We shared a uterus, we can share an Audi. Besides, he isn’t here to stop us.’ Lydia said with a quick glance out of the window. ‘But we should probably make a move in case he comes back.’
‘Lyds, we’ve passed three different boutiques and you haven’t looked in a single one,’ I said, following my friend past yet another beachy apparel store in South Shore without pausing to check out the goods in the window. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were on a secret mission.’
‘There’s one place I want to check out first, then we can do whatever.’
‘I’m guessing it isn’t a bathing suit store?’
Lydia checked a map on her phone and continued marching onwards.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a plan?’ I asked. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Because if I’d told you where I wanted to go, you would’ve said no.’
With a self-satisfied smile, she stopped in front of a tiny storefront, dark and dimly lit compared to its light and airy neighbours.
Their wares were displayed in the small window on a black velvet cloth: crystals, precious stones, herbs, candles, journals, rare feathers.
Above the closed front door hung a wooden sign that read Arcandum.
‘I don’t want to go in there,’ I said, taking a large step backwards until I blocked her way to the door. The whole shop was vibrating, and not in a good way. ‘And I don’t think you should either.’
‘Well, that’s too bad because I am going in,’ Lydia replied. ‘You can wait outside if you want.’
Her eyes glittered, defiant, as though there was something inside her desperate to get out. Whatever it was, she couldn’t possibly be as desperate to poke around some knock-off magic shop as I was to get away from the place. Something about the situation felt incredibly off but I couldn’t say what.
‘Whoever is running this place is a scam artist,’ I told her, searching through the window for signs of life. ‘There’s no way they could be a real witch. It’s just some charlatan selling overpriced junk to tourists. You don’t need anything they have.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
The look on her face was one I’d seen before, stubborn and determined, otherwise known as textbook Lydia Powell.
‘I’ve been reading a bunch of Wicca subreddits and everyone says this is one of the best magic shops in America.
You might be the only natural super-mega witch around but that doesn’t mean you’re the only person practising witchcraft, you know.
There are plenty of folks out there who dedicate their whole lives to attain a fraction of the magic you have and they need places like this. ’
‘For what?’ I challenged her. ‘To buy overpriced candles and fake crystals? Whoever is peddling this stuff is taking advantage of those people.’
‘This is why I didn’t tell you where we were going,’ Lydia replied, distinctly disappointed. ‘I knew you’d look down on it. Just because I’m not destined to inherit the same magic as you, it doesn’t mean I can’t learn some tricks to help you out.’
Behind her determination and the sullen tilt of her head, I knew she truly wanted to help.
And there was something else, not just a genuine desire to be by my side when I needed her the most but an equally urgent need to find a place she felt like she fit in.
That was something I understood only too well.
I didn’t like the idea of anyone taking advantage of people who were curious about magic but I wasn’t about to make my best friend feel as though she was anything other than essential either.
I quickly scanned the contents of the window. Chunks of quartz, leather-bound journals, vases filled with dried flowers. Nothing sinister.
‘You know I’m only worried about you,’ I said, stepping out of her way.
‘You know I’m almost seventeen and perfectly capable of looking after myself?’
It didn’t feel like the right time to point out exactly how much evidence I had that was very much to the contrary.
‘It’s just a store,’ she said, her tone coaxing as she slipped her hand through my arm. ‘I only want to take a quick look around. We’ll be in and out in two minutes.’
‘Two minutes,’ I replied. ‘And if anything weird happens, we’re gone.’
‘Em, it’s just a store.’ She laughed and as she opened the door, a tiny brass bell tinkled above our heads. ‘What exactly do you think is going to happen?’
As soon as she said it, I wished that she hadn’t.
Inside was pure cliché. Purple textured wallpaper, endless racks of candles, tarot cards printed in China by the thousand and glass display cases full of cheap crystals marked up to match the deep pockets of their Hilton Head clientele.
My magic and my morals bristled as I walked around, inspecting bookcases and poking at conveniently prepackaged love spells to-go.
Right by the door, someone had set a small table with cards and a crystal ball covered with a thin black shawl.
I had to fight the urge to gag. Every second we spent inside the store made me more uncomfortable, my skin irritated as though I’d brushed by a patch of stinging nettles, my magic bristling with every step.
Although we were the only browsers, the small space still felt overcrowded.
I hovered by the window, remaining as close to the door as possible, and watched dozens of happy holidaymakers pass by without so much as glancing our way.
It seemed odd, almost as though the store didn’t register, like it wasn’t there.
Surely someone would stop in, just out of curiosity?
This place definitely wasn’t covering what had to be exorbitant rent on the occasional tarot reading and twenty-dollar candle.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said, startled by the sudden appearance of more customers, a couple, a man and a woman around my dad’s age. It was only when Lydia walked right through the woman I realized they weren’t here to shop.
‘Can I help you, ladies?’
A tall, dark-haired woman appeared behind the glass cash desk and the ghosts disappeared.
She held a beaded curtain open as she stepped out of a back room steeped in shadows and when she took a step forward into the low light of the store, the irritation in my skin flared, shifting into an all-out burn.
Her skin was even paler than mine and her eyes an alarming shade of violet.
When I looked down at my forearms, peeking out from the rolled-up sleeves of my shirt, they were mottled red and white, the rash bright and bold.
‘Thank you so much, we’re doing great,’ Lydia cooed, flipping through a stack of Wicca-themed cookbooks. ‘I’ll holler if we need anything.’
‘You do that, I am here to help,’ the woman replied in an unusual accent. While she spoke to Lydia, she seemed fixated on me. ‘Where are you all visiting from?’
‘We’re just down from—’
‘Is that the time?’ I cut Lydia off without even pretending to look at my watch. ‘Hey, Jenny, we need to get going, don’t want to keep my mom waiting.’
‘Your mom?’ She frowned when I took hold of her hand, dragging her away from the cookbooks without looking back at the strange shopkeeper. ‘Jenny? What is the matter with you?’
‘That woman is the matter,’ I said once we were out the door. When I glanced up, the welcoming bell was shimmying back and forth but it didn’t make a sound. ‘We need to get back to the car right now.’
Lydia pulled out the car keys without question. ‘No worries, we’ll be home in five minutes.’ She glanced back and I knew that if I followed her gaze, I would see the woman watching us. ‘Who is she?’
‘I don’t know who she is,’ I replied as we melted into the crowd, black clouds gathering overhead. ‘But I do know she’s a Were.’