“We’ll continue this discussion when we get back to your place,” I murmured against his lips and finally saw a smile.
“Promises, promises. How fast can you get us there?”
Chapter 4
Alex
Thefollowingmorning,Donovan’ssuggestion still ran circles in my head, no matter how I tried to distract myself.
From the windows of A Likely Story, I could just barely see the street sign for Race Street, but the post office on the corner hid the storefronts on the small side street. A small boutique took up the corner building, followed by a tiny unit for the Crossing’s lone tattoo artist. The crystal shop took up another small building, with the only dog groomer in town on the far corner.
Most of the owners of those businesses were acquaintances, at least. Melissa, who ran the boutique, bought classics off my shelves from time to time to decorate her shop. Bel, the tattoo artist, was a regular at Buns ‘n’ Roses and had a wicked sense of humor, according to Rachel, one of the baristas. The groomer at the far end, Quinn, was a regular, but also one of the shyest people I’d ever met. He was always unfailingly polite, but I got the feeling that he worked with dogs to avoid dealing with people as much as possible.
The crystal shop, though… Try as I might, I couldn’t think of the name of the owner. I made it a point to at least know who my fellow small business owners were, yet somehow, I couldn’t put a name or even a face to them. Come to think of it, I couldn’t even come up with the name of the shop itself.
“That’s a very serious thinking face. Should I come back?”
I’d apparently been so caught up in trying to remember that I didn’t hear the door open or Camille walk in. Donovan would just love my situational awareness.
“You’re fine,” I assured her, shaking my head. “What’s up?”
She held up a bag and a cup in response. “Lunch time.”
“Already?” I glanced at the tablet on my counter, shocked to see it was nearly one o’clock. “Damn, I lost track of time.”
“Is everything alright?” Camille asked, putting the bag and cup on the counter near my elbow. Despite being friends for a few years now, she didn’t come around the counter like her girlfriend always did. Instead, she leaned against the solid wood, elbows on the counter and her chin resting on her hands. She unzipped her heavy coat and I caught a glimpse of the evil eye necklace hanging around her neck. I’d never given it much thought before, but now it caught my attention.
“Yeah. Actually, you might be able to help me.”
“You know I’m always happy to do what I can.”
“Because you’re an awesome person,” I said, just to make her smile. I loved Camille, and she deserved every single compliment in the world. “I was just wondering about the crystal shop down on Race Street.”
She tilted her head, long blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. “Esoteric Oddities? What about it?”
“How did I not know that name?” I’d have thought I’d remember a name like that. “Do you know who owns it?”
“Sure. Ori Castellos has run it as long as I’ve lived here,” she shrugged. “They’re pretty nice, too, once you get to know them. I’ve never met anyone who knows more about crystals and magic.”
Lowery’s Crossing had a population hovering around ten thousand, maybe fifteen thousand when tourists came through in the summer months on their way to the mountains. I’d lived here for six years as a kid, moving in with Aunt Lizzie when I was twelve years old, then visited frequently while I was in college. I’d moved back permanently almost seven years ago, at age 24, when my aunt died. I knew most people by sight and, thanks to the gossipy baristas I saw every day, had at least heard of those I didn’t know.
Not once had I ever heard the name Ori Castellos.
“I’m surprised I’ve never met them before,” I said slowly, searching my memory and again coming up blank. Part of what Camille had said finally registered, though, and I blinked at her. “Wait. Magic?”
She tilted her head. “You’re literally a psychic, but you’re going to be skeptical about the existence of magic? Haven’t you spent half your life in Lowery’s Crossing?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Alex, within a month of moving here, I’d heard at least a dozen stories about the strange happenings around this town.”
I didn’t roll my eyes, I wouldn’t disrespect Camille like that, but I did sigh. “Everyone always gets so superstitious about mountain towns. When I was younger, all the kids talked about the witches out in the woods and swore they heard the howls of werewolves under the full moon. None of that is real, though.”
“I agree with you about the werewolves, at least,” Camille said with a soft laugh. “But witches are very real. Not the ones on TV, with pointed hats and magic potions, but witchcraft, as a practice, is quite common these days.”
“You’re right, sorry. I guess I just didn’t realize it was common enough that we’d have a shop like that here in town. I’m also surprised that it’s been open this long and I’ve never been inside or me the owner.”
“Considering your skepticism, it’s not that shocking,” she said. “Are you wanting to learn more about crystals and things like that? I’d be happy to share what I know, or I could introduce you to Ori, if you wanted.”
