Chapter 7 #2
I feel so sad. I may have had issues with her, I may not have completely understood why she gave me away, but she didn’t deserve this.
“Mr Hadley, the solicitor, said they’ve had someone in several times to clean it, but it just keeps coming back,” Tristan mutters, and when I turn to look at him, I see he’s also staring at the bloodstain, his eyes filled with sadness.
It takes my brain a moment to catch up and then I realise what he’s said. Mr Hadley? The man from the graveyard? How does Tristan know him, and when did they speak?
For a second, I’m worried what this Mr Hadley might have said. He knew my name when I hadn’t offered it, and it makes me wonder what else he knows about me.
“What else did the solicitor say?” I can’t help but ask.
Tristan turns to me, his lips pursed thoughtfully. “Why don’t we sit down? I’ll tell you what I should have said yesterday before we cracked open Viv’s gin and took a little detour that went full on Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”
I sink onto the small, sagging sofa, and Sam takes a seat next to me. I don’t complain or shift away. In fact, I press closer into the warmth of his thigh to experience the comfort he doesn’t realise he gives me.
Danny and Chan take seats on the chairs beside the sofa, and Tristan proceeds to explain that he and Danny had met with Vivienne’s solicitor, the mysterious Mr Hadley, yesterday.
He was from a firm that had been in business for over two hundred and fifty years and had represented the Crawshanks family for almost half that time.
A now familiar and uneasy feeling flutters in my chest. If they have been involved with my birth family for this long, it makes me wonder how many of the Crawshanks secrets they have been privy too, including the circumstances of my birth and adoption.
“—turns out that Viv did have a kid. She gave birth to a son when she was only seventeen and put him up for adoption. They’re trying to track him down now?—”
I tune back in time for my heart to start pounding and my palms to sweat. The solicitors, Mr Hadley included, know about me. Although, thankfully, they don’t seem to know my present identity.
Or do they?
Why was Mr Hadley in that graveyard with me? Why did he specifically point out Cordelia’s grave, tell me it was empty?
I have a sneaking suspicion this Mr Hadley knows more than he’s letting on.
I’m only half listening as Tristan continues to explain something about him being made interim custodian of the bookshop and something about a key Vivienne left him with instructions to find the cupboard it belongs or whatever.
I want to concentrate on the discussion, but my mind keeps wandering to something Tristan and Sam had both mentioned about the bookshop’s paranormal activity.
According to them, this place was normally swarming with spirit activity on a daily basis, but there’s nothing now. Not a peep. It’s almost too quiet.
There’s something else at play here. Some other kind of magic, one that doesn’t have the same fingerprints as the magically spiked gin.
“Let’s divide and conquer,” Tristan announces just as I tune back in. “I don’t want to be here any longer than I need to. I’m still feeling the hangover from our magic carpet ride last night. I just want to crawl back into bed.”
“Prickles?” Sam draws my attention away from Tristan and Danny. “Are you okay?”
I push myself up from the sofa and Sam follows. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Sam studies me for a long moment, then leans in close. His voice is low, and I try not to shiver at the feel of his breath on my neck. “I think we both know that’s not true. But I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”
“I don’t need you,” I reply automatically, even though I’m pretty sure that’s not true.
Sam grins in reply. “We both know that’s not true either.”
Annnnd Sam apparently knows it too.
“Why, you egotistical, narcissistic twat. Not every man thinks you’re god’s gift.” I snap, not wanting the others to see how embarrassingly needy I am when it comes to this man. Although at this point, I’m more annoyed with myself for my weakness than with him for his laid-back humour.
“There’s my Prickles.” Sam’s smile softens, and my eyes narrow.
“I—”
Sam places his finger over my lips, and for one irrationally long moment, I’m so irritated I want to bite him. “We’re having a nice moment, Prickles. Don’t spoil it.”
“Why you—” I slap his hand away, and my own fingers crackle with electricity.
Damn it, I really need to get off this emotional rollercoaster. I definitely shouldn’t be riding it in the middle of magically powered murder scene.
The lights suddenly flicker again, and the air in the shop grows noticeably heavier, like we’re standing in fog. We all glance up as the lights flicker one more time.
I steady my breathing and rein in my magic. I don’t think it’s Sam I’m really mad at. It’s this place. It’s this situation.
It’s me.
I probably shouldn’t be taking my temper out on him.
“Maybe you should stop winding Harrison up,” Danny says to Sam firmly. “You can flirt when we’re not in the middle of a supernaturally charged bookshop with god-knows-what kind of entities.”
“As much as I do enjoy your fiery temper”—Sam winks at me—“he’s probably right. To be continued.”
“One of these days, I may actually turn you into a toad,” I grumble under my breath, although I don’t mean it.
“You keep threatening that.” Sam chuckles. “I’m beginning to think you might like me.”
I think we’re both aware how much I like him, as evidenced by the fact that he’s not only seen me naked but has had my dick in his mouth. Not that the others need to know that.
“Come on, you two.” Chan snaps his fingers. “Need I remind you we left Aidan asleep at Danny and Tristan’s place? And I have a hot date tonight that I need to go home and prep for.”