With that harrowing thought, my mood mellows moments before Willow declares that it’s time for the movie to start.
The second a nearly robotic voice begins describing the opening credits, my stomach knots and my chest clenches.Breath escapes me, and I remind myself that it has been five minutes. Five minutes, but I’ve yet to touch my cinnamon roll… Five minutes, but—
Andromeda scoots herself up on the couch between me and the armrest, slotting snugly into place before leaning against my side.
My throat closes.
When the first wave of laughter in response to the movie fills the room, I still haven’t touched my cinnamon roll, and when the last wave rises and falls, I find myself taking the blasted thing home with me, alongside the clear invitation that…next week…I’m welcome to come to movie night again.
Chapter 36
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Behold, women lovelore.
Castor
There is no place in all the realms more dreadful than abookstore. Merely stepping within the building of Page Turner sends a chill down my spine. Books, knowledge,power. The scent and swirl of magical possibilities clog my nostrils, hinting at spells yet untouched, imagination yet uncovered, worlds yet unfound.
Sick to my stomach already, I dodge a young human on her way out the door. She’sso happyto have new books and probably wouldn’t have seen me even if I hadn’t shrouded myself in glamour for this harrowing occasion.
I shudder.
At the front counter,Aliceresides—unassuming, dull, all dry airs around whatever she has chosen to look like these days. To my memory, her hair was dark and her figure slight, but I’ve scarcely seen her, because shescaresme. I, frankly, have never wanted to learn whether or not she is immune to my power because of the pure overwhelming force of hers.
Pretending that maybe shewouldn’tbe immune brings me some small bit of comfort. So long as she’s not immune, I might be able to protect myself against her.
Should the need arise.
But hopefully it never will.
“Come again,” she drawls at the human who has entirely left by now. Flipping open a magazine as the bell on the door rings itself back to silence, she mutters, “Or don’t.”
Always apeach, Alice.
Acting oblivious to my presence, she continues her perusal of the magazine even when I stop right in front of her counter, looming, alone in this independent bookstore. The quiet shop rests around us—perfectly empty. Yet she ignores me. As though any level of glamour could ever work on a being likeher.
Lungs tight, I say, “Alice.”
She keeps ignoring me.
My fists clench at my sides, nails biting into my skin. It takes every scrap of restraint in me to maintain my composure. It takes every ounce of discipline to remain patient.
Finally, Alice closes her magazine, moves, and gets a different book—something heavier, though that’s all I can make out without sight—before saying, “Camilla Evergreen. Ever heard of her…Castor?”
The power in my name on her lips alone crushes my cells and atoms. “No, I haven’t.”
“What about Storm Sterling?”
Storm? Like Danielle Storm?
“No, not like your Danielle Storm.” Alice chuckles, responding to my thoughts. “Or, perhaps, a little bit like that.” She smiles, delighted. “But who can say for sure?”
You can.I clench my jaw.Youcan say for sure. And also, get out of my head. I’m liable to be very rude in here.
Alice sighs. “I’ll be shocked if you aren’t rude everywhere,Castor.” With a slight motion, the lock on the door clicks behind me and what I assume to be an open sign flips toclosed.
I force my hands to relax and my fingers to stretch. “What about this Camilla and this otherStorm?” I ask.
