Luanne's eyes narrowed. "You really don't like pink, do you?"
Kat threw up her hands. "I hate it. I really, really hate it."
"Well," Luanne folded her hands in her lap primly, "in that case, I have bad news for you."
Kat and I instantly froze. Luanne's fortune-telling skills were no joke. If she said she had bad news, then it was time to panic.
Kat glared at her. "The giant pink heart thing was a joke, Luanne."
The fortune-teller shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about that. Sean tells me that this year's Valentine's Day cosplay contest has a theme—"
Kat groaned. "I forgot about the cosplay contest."
"Wait," I interrupted. "What is the contest about?"
"It's a yearly event now,” Kat explained. "PRoVE hosts a Valentine's Day Couple Cosplay Competition every February. It's a big deal and it brings tourists to the town during what would otherwise be a dead season. Everyone wants to see the costumes, which are usually spectacular."
"Ah, yes," I replied. "I saw the cosplayers on Halloween."
I was also familiar with PRoVE. They were the local paranormal investigations group. But they were also a lot more than that.
Luanne nodded. "People go all out. It's streamed across the Internet, so they want to make a big splash."
"I liked the Klingon wedding we had last year," Luanne mused. "You don't often see people sword-dancing with bat’leths down Main Street."
"I think Caine was pretty annoyed about that one," Kat replied. "He kept muttering about how people weren't props. I hear there's a limit on the number of support players you can bring now."
Luanne tut-tutted. "They shouldn't have covered the PRoVE headquarters in toilet paper."
Kat giggled. "They said it was a normal part of a Klingon wedding celebration."
Luanne laughed. "I don't think we'll be having any more of those, but we will be having a lot of pink. It's this year's theme."
Kat sighed. "Seriously?"
Luanne nodded. "I ordered new pink tarot cards and will be doing a 'sparkling pink future' promo with discounted card readings. It should be fun."
"Yeah, right," Kat answered glumly. "I don't suppose..."
Luanne gave her a sharp glance. "Don't even think of it."
"Oh, c'mon," Kat replied. "You know you want to."
"Want to what?" I asked.
Luanne shook her head. "She's thinking about covering PRoVE’s headquarters in pink toilet paper."
"It's genius,” Kat said eagerly. "Just picture Caine's face—"
She was laughing too hard to complete the thought. Luanne joined in.
I couldn't figure out what the merriment was all about. Having your place of business entirely covered with pink paper did not sound like fun. Of course, when the irascible leader of PRoVE saw it...
I couldn't help but giggle. Caine Magnusson was a tall, burly biker and he ruled PRoVE with an iron hand. The thought of him walking up to a pink building was hilarious.
"So what are you doing for Valentine's Day, Dora?" Luanne asked after the laughter had died down.
I jerked. "Me? Uh, not much, I don't really..."
My voice trailed off. I couldn't just say "I don't need any new customers." That would sound too weird.
"You should do something," Kat said. "Your shop is fantastic. Such a pity it's tucked away in that alley. I keep trying to send customers your way, but they come back saying they can't find the store."
That did not surprise me. It was the magic of the shop. You only found it when it wanted to be found.
"I'll try to think of something," I said, getting up. "But now I should go back and take care of things."
Luanne sighed and drained her teacup. "I hear you. Duty calls."
Kat nodded and started cleaning up the teacups. "I almost forgot to tell you, Dora. You got a package. It's on the counter."
"A package?" I asked. "That's...er...never mind, I'll take it with me. Thanks."
I was about to say "that's strange" before I caught myself. There was, after all, nothing odd about a store receiving a package. Normal stores received inventory all the time.
But mine wasn't a normal store.
I followed Kat as she carried away the tray with the dirty teacups. The package was on top of the counter, just as she said. It was fairly large and wrapped in glossy navy blue paper.
"That looks pretty fancy," Luanne said. "What's in it?"
"I don't know," I replied, running my finger over the pretty wrapping. The glossy surface even felt pricey.
I had no idea where this came from. The Magical Mystery Shoppe didn't receive packages. Objects were usually hand-delivered, often by agitated owners desperate to get rid of them.
"They need to be more careful about where they leave these things,” Kat said. “That box looks expensive, and the label says it's from Sotheby's."
"Oh." I examined the label, trying to figure out what Sotheby's was.
"It's a prestigious auction house in New York City," Kat explained. "They sell antiques and art. Last year, they sold a blue diamond for fifteen million dollars.”
"Wow," I gasped, staring at the shiny gold ribbons. "That's impressive.”
The three of us crowded around the counter, staring at the box.
“Any idea what’s inside?" Kat finally asked.
“None,” I confessed. If only one of us was clairvoyant.”
We both stared at Luanne.
The fortune-teller put up her hands. "I know nothing. I swear."
I sighed. I didn't know what was inside, but past experience with mysterious boxes had taught me one thing: It would be trouble.
2
THE BOX wasn't heavy, so I carried it easily back to my store. The Magical Mystery Shoppe was located a short walk away, in an alley right behind the botánica. I was starting to get used to the cold, and the brisk jaunt in the crisp February air was almost pleasant.
Emphasis on almost.
Main Street was fairly empty, with only a couple of stragglers wandering around, peering into the shop windows. A small purple van with a sticker proclaiming "Enchanted Faces Makeup Services" was parked in front. A tall woman with rainbow cornrows under a black wool beanie climbed out and headed for the bakery, holding what looked to be a shopping list in her hand. A man leaned out of the front passenger window and shouted "don't forget the double espresso shots" at her.
Ah, that would be the cosplayers getting ready for the contest. I passed the van and turned left into the alley.
And stopped in my tracks. The store looked the same as it always had—brick walls, stained glass windows, and a large tattered sign with "Magical Curiosity Shoppe" spelled in Gothic script.
But something was not quite the same.
The entry was full of packages. Some were large and others were tiny. Some were wrapped in plain brown paper and others had pink and red designs with hearts. Two had stickers stating "Thank You for Your Purchase."
I looked down at the box in my hands. Then I looked at the packages.
The labels all read the same: Dora Pendragon, Magical Curiosity Shoppe, 612 Main Street, Banshee Creek, VA.
What was going on?
I gently kicked two boxes out of the way and opened the heavy wooden door. Thankfully, the store looked normal. The wooden shelves were still cluttered, the unicorn skeleton was still in the corner, and my daemon cat, Bubo, was still sitting on the counter, lazily licking his fur.
"Thank the gods you're home," he said. "The doorbell has been ringing for hours. I was barely able to catnap."
"I was gone for twenty minutes," I replied, placing the blue box next to him on the counter. "And the front of the shop is full of boxes. Was that just one trip from the mailman?"
The cat shrugged. "The guy in the brown van also showed up, as well as a few more. We're suddenly very popular."
"'Suddenly' is right," I replied. "I guess I'd better bring those packages in."
"Actually," Bubo said, staring at
something behind me. "I think that's been taken care of. We seem to have acquired a new storage room."
I turned.
He was right. The back of the store had a plain wooden door on the right that led to my Spartan living quarters. The rest of the wall had been filled with shelves...until now.
Now there was a new door, identical to the one that led to my quarters. I walked over and opened it. Yep, all the packages were there, piled up neatly on the floor. An inventory list was taped to the door, ready to be filled.
I closed the door. "Having a magical store comes in handy sometimes. Now, let's see if we can figure out why we’re receiving all of these packages."
I made my way around the counter, giving Bubo a little pat on the head as I passed by. The back of the counter had several drawers and shelves. They were usually empty, like the cash register.
The register, however, filled up with money when I needed cash, and I'd even found a credit card there last month when Kat and Luanne invited me to go shopping.
The drawers worked the same way.
The top left-hand one, for example, usually held a stash of candy. The candy varied according to where the store was stationed. It had held a steady supply of sweet-and-sour Skittles candies for the past few months.
I opened the drawer. Yep, the candy was there. I opened another drawer and found some old scissors and knives, as well as a host of other metal tools. The scissors and knives would come in handy, but they didn't explain how the boxes got here. I quickly closed a drawer full of catnip because I didn't want Bubo to find out it was there. The last time the daemon cat had catnip...
It hadn't been pretty. Let me put it that way.
I kept opening and closing drawers, but found nothing of import. Just a bunch of old, rusty tools and implements. Why was the shop manifesting gardening shears? Would my shop-keeping duties now include horticulture? I hoped not. My green thumb was non-existent and the one little plant that the shop had acquired during my tenure—a lovely, blood-sucking succulent—barely lasted a week under my care.
I straightened and glanced at the cash register. Maybe...
The doorbell interrupted my train of thought.
"Great," Bubo said, sitting up. "That will be more packages. Excuse me while I go explore our new storeroom. I think I just identified a very interesting smell coming from there."
"Sure," I replied, knowing perfectly well he was referring to the catnip in the drawer. "You go do that."
Bubo sneaked into the storeroom just as the front door opened, letting in a blast of cold air.
I turned to welcome the customer, but the smile froze on my face as the visitor revealed himself.
He was tall with a slender built and a handsome, almost feminine, face framed by longish black hair. He was dressed in human clothes—gray jeans and a gray sweater under a tweed overcoat—and had a stylish cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck. Looking at him, one might think that he was simply a fairly well off human male out window-shopping.
But he wasn't.
"Greetings, Keeper of the Box," he said, in a mellifluous voice.
He wielded his voice like a weapon and I could feel the power wash over me like a heady drug.
But, like him, I was not mortal.
"Indeed," I replied. "And to what do I owe this honor? My establishment has not been visited by one of the Children of Danu in centuries."
He paused in the doorway, his face darkening as he realized that I had not returned his greeting.
That was not an oversight on my part. It is unwise to grant the Tuatha Dé Danann power, even with something as simple as a greeting.
"Your store is open to all who can find it, Keeper," he replied. "You cannot keep me out."
"Indeed," I replied.
That was such a useful word, “indeed.” Assent without consent was key when dealing with the Fey.
The stranger's eyes, dark like a moonless night, scanned the shop. "I am looking for something..."
His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the bronze Celtic broadsword hanging on the wall. A wolfish grin crossed his face.
"So that's where you went," he whispered, reaching out to caress the blade.
A chill ran down my spine at his words. I didn't know who this was, but I knew I didn't want that sword in his smooth, manicured hands.
"But you're not what I'm looking for," he finished with a smile.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I am searching for a bottle, Keeper," he continued. "Gold with a leaf-shaped stopper. It will not be full, but there will be liquid in it." His eyes narrowed.
I stood perfectly still, keenly aware of the stacks of boxes in the storeroom. Could they have something to do with this?
"You will know it when you see it," he growled threateningly.
Then he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.
The store felt a thousand times colder after he left. I grabbed the cardigan I kept hanging next to the cash register and put it on. It helped warm me up, but not by much.
The Sidhe were cold, colder than ice. Seeing one again, after all this time...it wasn't a good sign.
The storeroom door opened and Bubo walked out, sniffing the air.
"Ah, elves," he said with distaste. "We're going to have to air out the place."
"Yes," I replied. "But I have something to do first."
I opened the left-hand drawer, and took out a box cutter. Then I pulled the navy blue box toward me, cutting through the cardboard in one smooth motion.
The box opened, disclosing its contents—mostly packing material and delicate gold paper. I dug inside and my fingers closed around a smooth cardboard cylinder.
I took it out. The engraved flowers were pretty. I carefully unscrewed the top and turned the cylinder over, letting the contents fall gently on my outstretched hand.
It was a glass bottle, gold in color, with a leaf-shaped stopper.
3
I GRABBED the pen and wrote down "handmade glass bottle, round, amber color with copper shavings, empty, monetary value unknown" on the inventory list.
"How many bottles does that make?" Bubo asked.
"Three hundred and ninety-two," I replied. "So far."
We were in our new storage room, opening boxes. There was now a tall pile of cardboard on the back of the room, which I hoped would be taken care of by the shop. I was not looking forward to hauling all of that to the recycling bin.
The shelf next to the door now housed an impressive collection of bottles. Some were tall, some were short, some had engraved designs, a couple looked like ancient terra-cotta containers.
All were yellow and all had leaf-shaped stoppers. It seemed to be a popular motif for perfume containers.
Some were a light lemon color, others were a deep gold, and one was kind of ochre-looking, but there was no mistaking the color theme. For some reason, we'd had tons of yellow bottles delivered.
Just in time to be picked up by Mr. Tall, Dark and Elvish.
Not that he wanted all of them, of course. Just one. The problem was that I had no idea which one it was. If I figured it out, I would be able to give the other bottles to Kat. They would be perfect for her Valentine's Day potion. There wasn't a pink bottle in the lot.
But try as I might, I couldn't figure which was The One. The bottles didn't seem to be magical at all.
Bubo aimed a suspicious glance at the shelf. "Just don't rub any of them. Remember what happened the last time."
I bent to open another box. "Oh, the genie wasn't that bad."
Bubo growled. "He turned me into a salt shaker."
The box contained, yes, another bottle. This one had a distinctive diamond stopper and was very pretty. I checked the receipt to see if it included the provenance. "That's because you kept chasing him."
"It took the form of ribbons of smoke. I couldn’t help myself." He glanced back at the bottles. "Just be careful with those.”
"I don't think you have anything to worry ab
out," I replied, straightening and taking the bottle to the shelf. "They all seem to be love potion bottles."
"All of them?" Bubo asked.
I pointed to the sheaf of invoices on the floor. "Every single one."
"But they are all empty. Where are the potions?"
"Some of them include recipes. A few supposedly contained the potion at some point. Three of them still have something inside."
"Please don't open those," Bubo said quickly.
"I wasn't planning to."
"Did you figure out why we are getting all of this crap?"
"No," I replied, contemplating the invoices. "But we seem to have paid a pretty penny for them.”
"The shop must really want them then."
Bubo did not sound pleased about that fact. I wasn't too happy about it either. I'd spent millennia in this shop and nothing like this had ever happened before.
Why was the shop looking for the same bottle the elf was looking for? And why was a Sidhe warrior looking for a love potion? That big sword hanging next to the door seemed more his style.
I was still staring at the invoices when the doorbell broke my reverie.
"He's back," I hissed, quickly exiting the storeroom.
I closed and locked the door behind me before Bubo could get out. The lock would not protect the bottles—if the shop wanted to deliver an item, there was little I could do to stop it—but it would keep Bubo's big mouth away from the elf. The last thing I needed was Bubo provoking a deadly Sidhe warrior.
I was just in time. The front door opened just as I heard the storeroom lock click. A cold breeze blew into the shop. I turned, ready to address my mysterious elven visitor.
But it wasn't him.
"Hello, Dora," Thomas Lane said, pulling down the hood of his olive green parka.
For a change, he wasn't dressed in PRoVE regalia. The members of the local paranormal investigations team loved plastering the group's all-seeing eye logo on everything, but today Thomas just wore dark-washed jeans and a black sweater under the parka. The color of the coat brought out the green in his eyes and he looked as handsome as always.
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