by Kristie Cook
He was older, probably in his early to middle forties with short-cropped hair slightly speckled by gray. His eyes, a deep green, were fixated on me in a way that made my skin prickle with goose bumps. I didn’t like it. It was almost as though he were staring at some incredibly fascinating animal that was supposed to be extinct when he looked at me. A large black cat caught my attention as it jumped from on top of a bookshelf behind him and into a chair before hopping down to the floor and strutting to the desk at the back of the store.
“I get my sneakiness from her, I guess.” He pointed in the direction of the cat and then folded his arms across his chest. “That’s Sage; she’s sort of like the store mascot.” His steady eyes dropped to the book I was holding. “I haven’t read that one yet, but I’ve heard good things about it,” he said, pointing to the book.
I glanced down to see what book I’d grabbed. A cover with a girl dressed in a black dress with feathers floating all around her gleamed up at me. “Oh, you read these types of books?” I asked, his confession striking me as odd. I didn’t know why though. He obviously worked in a bookstore. Of course he read the stuff he sold.
“How else would I be able to recommend books similar to others if I didn’t at least make an attempt to read some of the books I sell?” He grinned like I was some small child asking a stupid question regarding why the sky was blue.
“Well, that makes a lot of sense, I guess.” I put the book back on the shelf and readied myself to ask for an application.
“You aren’t going to get it?”
I shook my head. “It’s one I’ve wanted to read for a while now, but I actually came here because of the ad in the paper.”
His eyes lit up, but in a weird way. “Really?”
“Has the position already been filled?” I asked, praying silently that it hadn’t. I loved the ambiance of this place.
“No, it hasn’t. In fact, I just put the ad in the other day. You’re the first person to apply,” he informed me and then headed toward the desk in the back. “Follow me and I’ll get you an application.”
I followed him to the desk and then stood, wondering where I should put my hands, wishing I’d just worn shorts or at least a skirt with pockets. My eyes swept over the novelties resting along the edge of the desk—colorful bookmarks with tassels, dozens of those little lights that attached to e-readers, pens, magnets with what looked like a picture of his cat with a little saying written in the same scrolling script as the signs above the selves. I picked one up and read it.
Books are word windows … Open one and see where its magick may take you.
“My name is Admer, by the way. I own this little place,” he said as he continued to riffle through stacks of paperwork and books littering his desk. “I don’t really need you to fill out an application. I just need it so I can ask you a few questions and get all of your general information.”
I didn’t understand what he meant. “Oh, okay.”
He paused in his search and glanced up at me, his eerily steady eyes meeting mine. “I’m saying you got the job.”
My pulse spiked as a sudden lightness centered in my chest and then spread outward, making my limbs tingle. “I got the job?” I asked unnecessarily, unable to believe I’d gotten it so easily.
“Of course.” He nodded with a small smile and then resumed his search. “I need someone who enjoys reading … which seems to be you. Ah—here it is …” He held up a piece of white paper. “And besides, you were the first person to ask about the position … I’m a firm believer in the old saying first come, first serve.”
I smiled. “Well, thanks.”
“All right, now let me ask you some boring questions regarding your address and such.” He pulled out a hard case from in his front pocket and retrieved a pair of small-circled, wire-rimmed glasses. “Oh wait, I didn’t let you know the hours. I’m so sorry; my mind seems to be a little overworked today.”
“It’s okay.”
“We open at ten in the morning and close by four during the week and six on Fridays and Saturdays. We’re closed on Sundays. But I won’t need you for all of those days. I’ll probably have you work three days a week, possibly four. How does that sound?”
“Great!” I said with a little more enthusiasm than I’d intended.
“All right, now on to the boring stuff,” he said, lifting the paper up so he could better read it.
CHAPTER NINE - Collette’s
When I got back home, Vera was awake and sitting on the couch watching TV. We didn’t have any cable or satellite, but we did have movies that I’d thought to bring. She was watching one of my favorites, Superbad.
“Where have you been? I walked around this house searching for you for like an hour before I realized your Jeep was gone. This place is huge!” Vera said as I flopped down beside her on the couch.
I grabbed a throw pillow and sat it in my lap, tucking my feet beneath me. “I went job hunting and landed one at the first place I applied,” I bragged.
Vera paused the movie. “So, it’s official. You’re staying for the summer, then?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think I am.”
There was too much I needed to learn from Kace, too much I didn’t know. I couldn’t leave now.
“Awesome, because I’d love to head back out here, even if it’s just for a weekend, before I get settled in at the dorms. One last go around with summer.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
I grinned at her. “That would be awesome.”
“Where did you land the job at? Anyplace cool?”
“That bookstore, Spellbinding Reads.”
Vera made a gagging noise. “Ugh, it would be the only stuffy bookstore in town and not someplace of actual value … like a clothing store where you can get a wicked discount, or even a shoe store.”
I hit her with my pillow. “It works out for me. I’ll be getting ten percent off any books I want to buy and I get to read while on the job any book I want for free.”
“Anyway …” she said, completely ignoring my awesome discount news, as she switched the movie back on. “What do you want to do for dinner? I’m starved.”
***
We ended up going to a restaurant on a completely different side of town than Fisherman’s Brew. I made the excuse of not wanting anything seafood—which was hard to find in a beachside town—but in all honesty, it was because I didn’t want to be anywhere near Twila, Stina, or Theo. There was something unsettling about all three of them, and it went deeper than the little threats they’d directed my way the other night and their odd stares.
Instead, we chose an Italian restaurant, which seemed a little out of place in the beachside setting. But who were we to judge? A large green sign hung above the front double doors that read: Colette’s. The place was small and dimly lit, but the smell that filled your nose upon entrance was heavenly—fresh-baked bread with just a hint of garlic.
“Bread … real, fresh-baked bread … this place is speaking my language. Good thinking, Add,” Vera said as she inhaled deeply while we waited at the door to be seated.
“I know,” I agreed.
We were both self-proclaimed bread heads. The type of people Dr. Oz labeled with a wheat addiction. If you wanted to kill either of us in the most agonizing way … take bread from our diet. We’d die, for sure.
“Table for two?” the dark-haired hostess asked with a smile. There was a slight gap between her two front teeth, but on her it worked. Some people were like that.
“Yes, please,” Vera and I both said at the same time.
“Right this way.” The hostess turned and we followed her through the restaurant to a booth nestled in the back.
I slid into the seat, feeling the cool leather against my bare legs. Our hostess passed each of us a menu and a rolled-up thing of silverware.
“Janelle will be your waitress tonight. I’ll send her over to take your drink orders in just a moment.” She smiled before walking away.
“This place is cute,”
Vera said, glancing around.
I nodded in agreement. Low-hanging pendant lights swirled with deep reds and glittering golds hung from the ceiling above our table, giving off just the right amount of light. The walls were painted a textured beige color and genuine paintings hung at each booth. Ours was a gorgeous picture of an alleyway someplace in Italy, or so I assumed. It was one of those paintings that had depth to it, almost 3D looking. You could tell it was something someone had painted and not a photocopied poster like you could buy at Wal-Mart.
I picked up the deep red-colored menu and glanced over the entrees typed in thick black letters. “Wow, this place is a little pricey.” $22.95 for most of their pasta dishes?
Vera grimaced, noticing the same thing. “I know. $3.42 for a soda. Yikes!”
“Oh, but they have my favorite … eggplant parmesan.” I groaned.
“And manicotti …” Vera said. “Woo, spaghetti too!”
I scrunched up my nose. “Eh, spaghetti is one of those dishes restaurants make that are always too bland. Homemade is always so much better.”
“Not here …” a familiar voice said from just a few steps away. I turned and spotted Adam strolling over to our booth.
“Really?” I asked, matching his cocky demeanor dead-on. Vera shot me a questioning look from across the table.
Adam nodded. He placed his hands at the edge of our table and splayed his fingers out as he leaned down, putting all of his weight against them. “Really. This place is Five Star for a reason.”
My stomach dropped—Five Star? No wonder it was freaking astronomically priced and so busy.
“That’s a pretty awesome feat for a restaurant in such a small town,” Vera said. I was acutely aware of her tone—she’d given him her I’m-cute-don’t-you-want-me tone.
“It is. My family is very proud of it,” Adam said.
“Your family owns this place, then?” I asked. His bright green eyes met mine, and he flashed me a crooked grin.
“Sure do,” he answered. “Glad you guys found the place.”
“Oh, well Addison wanted something that wasn’t seafood and this place seemed right up our alley. I love Italian food,” Vera said.
My leg itched to jerk out and kick her beneath the table. She seriously needed to stop flirting with every guy she came in contact with. She was never this bad at home, but that could be because she’d already dated half of the guys our age there and moved on.
“What about you, Addison, do you like Italian food too?” Adam fixated his eyes on me. There was something menacing in them, like he wanted nothing more than to mess with me. It seemed to give him some sense of amusement or something. “I can assure you that you’ll enjoy this food … It tastes like pure magick. Trust me.” He winked and then slid away from the table so Janelle, our waitress, could take our drink order.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Janelle said, flashing Adam a shy smile. She was a short, plump girl with short-cropped brown hair and a bad case of acne. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of crimson when she glanced at Adam. She sat a basket of the most heavenly scented bread I’d ever smelled down in front of me along with some butter that had little flecks of something in it. “Can I get you ladies something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take a sweet tea with lemon, please,” I said, feeling sorry for her because she obviously had a thing for a complete A-hole.
“I’ll take the same.” Vera smiled.
“Are you ready to order, or do you need a minute?” Janelle asked. Her pen shook as she wrote down our drink orders.
“What’s your special of the day?” I asked, wanting to know what was on sale, because I didn’t think I could afford to eat what I wanted and there was no way I was walking out now that Adam had spotted me. I didn’t want to admit to him that his family’s Five-Star restaurant was way out of my price range.
“Don’t worry about ordering the special,” Adam said as he leaned against Vera’s booth to get a better look at me. “Order what you guys want; it’s on the house tonight.”
“Oh, awesome! Thank you!” Vera gushed at him.
“Thanks,” I said, wondering why on earth he’d done that. “In that case I’ll have the eggplant parmesan with a … Caesar salad.”
Janelle jotted down my order. “Great choice. I love the eggplant parmesan here. And for you?” She glanced at Vera, pen ready.
“I’ll take the manicotti with a house salad, please.”
“What type of dressing would you like?” Janelle asked Vera.
“Ranch, please.”
“I’ll put the order in.” Janelle took our menus with a smile and walked away, casting one more glance back at Adam beforehand. He didn’t notice her, but her cheeks flushed even more just the same.
I picked up a roll and split it open. The warm steam wafted up to my nose, carrying with it the scent of sweet bread. Unrolling my silverware, I found my butter knife and began to spread on some of the spiced butter.
“I need to use the restroom real quick. Which way is it?” Vera asked.
“Straight back,” Adam said. As soon as Vera was out of her seat, he sat down across from me. “So, what do you think?” he asked as he watched me take a bite of my slathered-up roll.
“Seriously?” I said around the food in my mouth. I didn’t care about impressing him any. “Are you really interested in what I think of the food here?”
It was freaking ecstasy in my mouth, but there was no way I was telling him that.
“I am,” he said with a wicked grin. “Kace told me about what happened between you two last night, how he informed you a little.”
I nearly choked on the bread in my mouth. So, Kace was one to kiss and tell … awesome. “Uh-huh, and … what about it? What does that have to do with the food here?” I asked, attempting to play it off cool, while wondering where he was going with this conversation.
Adam hunkered down. “It’s cooked with magick.”
I swallowed hard. “Excuse me?”
Adam smirked at me, his bight green eyes glittering with excitement. “I didn’t stutter.”
“You didn’t make any sense either,” I snapped, not enjoying his cocky tone at all. That’s what I didn’t like about him most, his cockiness.
“Magick, Addison … it’s how we all survive, how we thrive in today’s world,” he said in a low voice so the others around us wouldn’t hear.
How they all survived? How they thrived? I didn’t understand. Did they use magick to get what they wanted out of life?
Adam must have been able to see the confusion in my eyes, because he grinned at me and then elaborated.
“This restaurant”—he looked around—“is all enhanced by magick … the food, the dÉcor, the ratings … magick made this place what it is today.”
“How is that possible?” I asked, glancing in the direction Vera had disappeared in. There was no way I wanted her to hear this conversation, it was too … out there … too unsettling.
“We have our ways,” he said simply and then leaned back against the booth seat.
“Oh, I’m sorry … I didn’t realize you’d be joining them,” Janelle said, sounding flustered as she sat Vera’s and my sweet teas down. “Would you like something to drink too?”
Adam shook his head, but never removed his eyes from me. “No, I’m all right.”
“Okay, well, umm, your food will be out shortly.” Janelle smiled.
“Thanks,” I called to her as she hurried away.
I hunkered down the way Adam had before. “Don’t be so cryptic … what ways?”
Adam grinned, his eyes flashing like he was bursting at the seams to reveal all the information I asked for. “Hoodoo” was all he said before I spotted Vera making her way back to our booth.
“Hoodoo? Don’t you mean Voodoo?” I’d heard of Voodoo, but never Hoodoo. A shiver went up my spine as I thought about the little I did know of Voodoo, or at least what I thought I knew. “Isn’t that like creepy little dolls symbolic of a person with nee
dles stabbed into them to inflict pain?”
Adam laughed. “No, I mean exactly what I said—Hoodoo. Voodoo is something completely different.”
Vera approached the table, and Adam slid out of her seat before she could slip in to trap him.
“Well, I’ll let you ladies enjoy your meal,” Adam said. “I’ll catch you later, Addison.”
I frowned. “Yeah, later.”
This would be the only time I would ever wish to remain in his presence and only because I wanted to find out what he’d meant. How did his family use Hoodoo to run this restaurant? Was that what I had inside of me, some sort of Hoodoo magick? God, I hoped not.
CHAPTER TEN - Our Bloodline
I stood in the kitchen, staring at the number written across the dry erase board, contemplating whether or not I should call Kace. The yearning to learn more, to understand, was nearly overwhelming. So was the desire to see Kace again.
“Oh my God, just freaking call the guy!” Vera snapped as she strolled into the kitchen already changed back into her PJs.
She opened the fridge door and pulled out a Mountain Dew. One of these days she was going to start sweating that crap and then have kidney failure or something. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her drink a glass of water.
I took a deep breath. “Are you going to be okay hanging out here by yourself?”
“Why, where are you going to ask him to take you … parking?” She laughed and then took another swig of her sugar death.
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “But maybe for a coffee or something.”
“I’m a big girl. I’m probably gonna hit the hay soon anyway. My hangover isn’t officially over just yet. I’m exhausted.” She sauntered out of the kitchen, Mountain Dew in hand. “Now why don’t you be a big girl and call the guy!” she called over her shoulder.
I stifled a grin. “Fine, I will.”
My fingers fumbled as I punched the numbers into my phone. I double-checked them, making sure I was calling the right number, took in another deep breath for courage, and then pressed call. It rang twice before Kace picked up.
“Hello?” he said into the phone, the sound of his voice sent shivers along my spine.