“What’s there to tell?”
She hesitated for a half-second, then blurted, “All I know is, he came over to the house first thing this morning. They disappeared into Graham’s office for a chat. Alongchat. It seemed serious. He left in a hurry afterwards, all business. I couldn’t even get him to stay for a cup of coffee!” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I tried to eavesdrop, but Graham just replaced my flimsy old office door with this super heavy oak one when he redid the room, so I couldn’t hear much of anything. Whatever your detective said, though, it was enough. Graham didn’t make a peep about it when I left for work — even after I mentioned I’d be seeing you.”
“He’s notmydetective,” I informed her weakly. Semantics were the least of my problems. I was undeniably rattled by the thought of Cade discussing me with Graham ‘Badass Extraordinaire’ Graves. I supposed I shouldn’t be — Cade had warned me last night that he had every intention to dig into my past. I just hadn’t anticipated he would share whatever he found with my new boss’s boyfriend at the first possible opportunity.
I should have.
This is why you keep away from cops,a snarky inner voice reminded me.This is why you can’t make friends.
It took all my self-control to keep from bolting toward the door. The long-ingrained urge to pack up my belongings, pile into my car, and head for the hills swept through me in a relentless wave. Unfortunately, with my shitbox still up on blocks and my bank accounts rapidly approaching zero, I wouldn’t get far. Not even on Declan’s bicycle.
“Don’t you worry about Graham,” Gwen said gently. Her expression was soft with concern and awareness. I wondered what she’d seen in mine.
Panic, no doubt.
“He’s all bark, no bite,” she informed me. I must’ve looked skeptical, because she hurriedly added, “Err… okay, he occasionally bites. But only when he needs to. And I know the Gravewatch boys seem intense, but once you’re in, you’rein. You know?”
No, I didn’t know.
I’d never beeninwith anyone. Certainly not a group like Gravewatch.
“Anywho!” She clapped her hands together. “We have more important things to discuss than overprotective macho-men. We open in ten minutes and I have a feeling we’re going to be slammed. So. Where to begin?” Her eyes swept around. “Obviously up front here we have the espresso counter where people buy their coffee…” She flourished her hands at an old-fashioned cash register that looked straight out of a historical film. “We’re currently down a barista. That means, until I find someone, I’ll be on coffee duties. Which, to be perfectly honest, isnotmy forte. Especially when it comes to that beast.”
We both stared for a beat at the shiny gold espresso machine. It was, indeed, a beast. There were more levers and dials than I could count, dual steam wands, and four portafilters. A vat of dark roasted beans towered beside it. I’d been a barista several times in my varied career as a vagabond, but I’d never worked a machine quite that massive.
“I can make a halfway decent latte in a pinch, but I’m no master,” Gwen confided, brow furrowing again. “And the locals around here are big fans of foam art, custom flavor creations, and caffeinated concoctions beyond my amateur abilities.Turmeric-ginger. Pumpkin spice. Dirty chai.” She groaned. “Shoot me now. If the line starts to pile up, I fear I may crack under the pressure.”
“I can do latte art.”
Gwen blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Sure. Nothing fancy, but a maple leaf, a heart, a smiley face… The basics.” My shoulders went up and down in a light shrug. “I’ve worked as a barista a few times.”
Suddenly, Gwen was grinning at me so bight, it threatened to blind me. “What are you, like, my personal guardian angel, sent to earth to save my ass?”
I was startled into silence by this question. Gwen didn’t seem to notice. She looped her arm through mine and started tugging me deeper into the store. “You’re welcome to jump in if you see me drowning in takeaway cups when you’re between readings. Lord knows I could use the help. I’ll pay you for your hours, of course, on top of whatever you collect from your tarot clients.”
I could certainly use the hours — and the cash. “I’m happy to jump in wherever I’m needed, Gwen.”
“Perfect!” Her smile went from bright to mega-watt. “Let’s finish the tour while we have a quiet minute. I’ll show you what I like to call ourMystical Curiositiessection. There’s a second register back there, where people purchase all their books and baubles…”
She dragged me quickly through the maze of shelves. I saw tomes on everything from moon phases to mystical properties to mythological creatures. Some looked fresh from the printers, others were old and clearly well-loved. Gwen pointed out different sections as we passed, chattering aimlessly about the store’s varied clientele (Everyone from tourists to true believers!) and their unique spiritual needs (Everything from kitschy knickknacks to authentic athamé blades!).
Her words, not mine.
My eyes skimmed from the incense stand to the essential oils table to the poppet doll display before we moved down two heavy wood steps, into the middle section of the shop.
Mystical curiosities, indeed.
The walls here were painted a darker green, the air infused by the scent of hanging herb bundles overhead. Several display cases stuffed full of witchy accouterments lined the walls. Cool as hell candles with designs carved in the wax, crystals of every conceivable shade and shape, odd curved ceremonial blades with pentagrams at their bases. There was even a supply of bonafide iron cauldrons.
Tall apothecary cabinets in the center were stuffed full of vials, each of which was labeled with care in elaborate calligraphy. My eyes widened, reading some of the bottled contents: ‘Bone Shard’ and ‘Graveyard Dirt’ and ‘Eye of Newt’ and ‘Gaia’s Tears.’
“Bathroom is the door to the left, stockroom to the right,” Gwen said, pulling my focus back to her. “And, most importantly… here we are! Your space!”
She pointed to the very back of the shop. There, separated by a thick green curtain, was a cozy room painted in the deepest shades of evergreen. Almost black. The curtains were currently pulled wide, held in place by thick gold roping. It looked somehow both spooky and inviting.
“I guess it’s technically Zelda’s space, seeing as she left all her stuff when she split town in such a hurry,” Gwen said from beside me as we both stepped inside. “But as of now, it’s yours. Feel free to do whatever you want to make it your own.”