“Another time.”
Kheelan’s hold on her arm was relentless as he dragged her to the door. She cast one last longing gaze at the absinthe set up before the door slammed shut. An unaccustomed anger flooded her body. He had no right telling her what to do. She was the one who worked here, the one who led him to this place to start with. The one with the keys.
Skye’s muscles melted with relief. The keys. She could come back anytime she wanted. She didn’t need Kheelan.
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling?”
“No reason.” Skye shrugged and walked past him, heading for the stairs. “We’ve seen enough for one night. I’m ready to go home.” She yawned for good measure, but Kheelan halted beside her, a knowing look in his eyes.
“No problem.” He held up her keys and rattled them. “But just to be safe, I think I’ll keep this one key with me until we figure out why you have a sudden craving for a dangerous drink you’ve never tasted before.” He slipped out the key they’d used for the locked room and put it in his pocket.
Skye stomped up the stairs ahead of him, irritated. What was the matter with her? Something wasn’t right. Once upstairs, out of the basement, she aimed her flashlight into the store’s darkness. Without thinking, she went immediately to the glowing crystals and placed her hands on the glass counter. The healing vibrations of the crystals soothed her spirits more intensely than ever. She took deep breaths, drinking in the comfortable, familiar store smell of herbs and incense as the anger and strange cravings faded.
The storeroom terrified her, yet drew her in at the same time. Drink absinthe? Ridiculous. Kheelan must think she was a basket case. She was too embarrassed to face him, even as she felt his presence closing in from behind.
“Don’t be mad, okay?” His breath on the back of her neck was hot, exciting. All thoughts of absinthe were wiped out with an altogether different desire as she caressed the strong hands wrapped around her waist, stroked the broad fingers splayed against her abdomen. Instead of the bitter wormwood draught, she craved the taste of his tongue and the hot stimulus of his skin touching hers. She wanted to be drunk on nothing but him.
The flashlight dropped with a dull thump as it landed on the carpet at their feet. From the fallen light and display lighting, Skye made out the contrast of her pale hands against Kheelan’s darker flesh. The binding tattoo above his wrist twisted and slithered like thin black snakes. Skye gently ran her fingers over the inked feather and Celtic knot and felt squiggles of movement beneath his skin, like baby spiders crawling below the flesh.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, startled.
“It’s uncomfortable,” he admitted. “But I’m used to it.”
Skye lifted his hand to her lips and kissed the throbbing skin where he was branded, more filled with tenderness than passion now.
I’ve only known him a week. But everything was different. She’d been exposed to great marvels with the pixie visions, but also evidence of the fairies’ cruelty. Even though Kheelan had revealed a completely new hidden world, the biggest change was within herself. She realized Tanner was a childhood crush. He represented normalcy and fun times and entrée into a life of friends and acceptability.
But Kheelan was different. He didn’t care if she was a witch, talented or not. Didn’t mind if she stood out as different. Kheelan wanted her, needed her. She read it in his haunting brown eyes. It was in his possessive, hungry touch. She sensed desperation and longing for human love and acceptance. Just like her.
He didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell, but Skye committed to more than helping him with his Fae mission.
She was in this for Kheelan, for his heart.
Because her own heart was bound to his as surely as the blood moon, the witches’ moon, reigned the Samhain night.
11
Knight Of Pentacles
“Pick a card, any card.”
Glenna bore down on Skye, who’d just finished helping a customer select a crystal for self-confidence in an upcoming job interview.
Skye cautiously regarded the fanned-out tarot deck in Glenna’s hand. Last time she touched one of them, her fingers had burned on contact. “You know, I’m not a big believer in the power of the tarot.”
“The cards never lie,” Glenna said with her usual solemnity.
“Think of something, or someone, you’re curious about.”
That was easy. Ever since last night, all she could think of was Kheelan. The way he looked at her, the taste of his lips, the feel of his skin and his masculine scent. Skye closed her eyes, fingers hovering over the deck.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Glenna said. “Pick one if you feel any heat or tingling sensation from it. If you don’t feel anything, it still doesn’t matter which you choose. The universe knows.”
Skye bit back a laugh. Glenna sounded like a two-bit palm reader at a circus fair and she put way too much faith in the randomness of the cards.
“I choose . . .” she placed an index finger on a card, intending to pull it out, when her hand involuntarily shifted to the far left and touched a different card. Her finger burned and she knew what the card was before Glenna announced it.
“Knight of Pentacles,” Glenna murmured. “A man in his twenties who strategizes to make his ideal become reality. Know who this might be?”
“Maybe.” Oh, she knew who he was all right, but best not to confide in Glenna.
“He seeks action and things that can be used for results.”
Things that can be used. Or possibly people that could be used, like herself. The thought made her squirm. She had agreed to help him with the pixies. He didn’t have anything to gain from all this. He was only doing his job. “Your turn.” Skye took the deck from Glenna and fanned them out as Glenda had done, deliberately distracting herself from the dark doubts.
Glenna closed her eyes and lifted both hands to her temples, as if seeking guidance from a divine source inside. What a drama queen. Glenna extended her right hand and passed them over the cards several times. “This one,” she said emphatically, handing it to Skye to read.
Skye laughed at the scales depicted on the card. “Justice.” She couldn’t keep out the note of triumph in her voice. “This is a good card, Glenna. It means balance and—”
Glenna snatched the card. “Let me see.”
Skye crossed her arms and smiled smugly. “It had to happen one day you know. You picked a nice card. Why can’t you just—”
“It’s reversed.” Glenna grabbed the deck from Skye and stuffed the Justice card back in it. “So, it means the opposite of fairness and balance.”
Skye threw up her hands. “I give up. If you want to always believe the worst is going to happen, then that’s what you’ll find.”
“Mugwort. Glenna need mugwort.”
They both turned to see Kyle who had edged up behind them unnoticed.
“Why do I need that?” Glenna asked.
“Make really psychic,” Kyle mumbled, face averted.
“I’m already psychic,” Glenna said, taking offense.
Skye smothered a laugh, even Kyle saw through her act.
Kyle spoke a little louder. “Make more psychic,” he insisted.
“Okay, then.” Glenna relaxed, somewhat appeased. “I’ll add some of the herb to my tea before I do another tarot reading.”
Skye studied Kyle as Glenna moved on. The differences between him and Kheelan stood out. The striking resemblance was there, of course, but where Kyle’s eyes were dreamy and distracted, Kheelan’s were focused and direct. Kheelan’s features were sharper, more chiseled, where Kyle’s were softer and more rounded. What would Kyle think if he met his double? Would it freak him out, or would he even notice? It was hard to tell what he was thinking.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Kyle?” She bet this would be one of the first questions on Kheelan’s mind. To someone who had no family, biological kin would be important.
“Sister.” Kyle picked up several of
the crystals, then set them back down. “Katie.”
“How old is she?”
He didn’t answer right away, but shuffled his feet and scratched his head.
“It’s okay if you don’t know.” Skye reached out to touch his arm in reassurance, then dropped her hand, remembering he was uncomfortable being touched.
“Twenty,” he said at last.
She couldn’t wait to tell Kheelan. He could meet a real, live sister when Samhain was over and this mess behind them.
“Excuse me, miss. Could I get your help with something?”
A middle-aged woman smiled at her tentatively, clutching a huge vinyl handbag in front of her.
Skye gave a warm smile. “Absolutely. What do you need today?”
The woman glanced nervously at Kyle, but he shuffled over to a row of books a few feet away.
“Do you have anything to help with, um,” she lowered her voice, “weight management?” She blushed and held the handbag even tighter, as if it were a talisman for courage.
“I’ll fix you right up.” Skye sought to put her at ease. “I’ll make you a charm bag with special crystals, herbs and oils to help you. I may even do one for myself while I’m at it. I’ve been eating way too many late night pizzas since starting college.”
Skye picked up a small glass bin with dozens of blue and green tumbled stones. “These are apatite crystals, and they help control appetite. Reach in and pick whatever stone feels right to you.”
The woman dug in and delicately fingered several of the stones.
“Clementine. Cardamom.” Kyle’s flat voice drifted over from the book area.
“Thanks, Kyle. Bring me over a half ounce of each.” At the woman’s questioning look, Skye explained. “Those are some herbs we’ll add to help with your intention. When I mix the powder with sweet orange and patchouli oil, it’s gonna smell terrific, and it all works together to help you lose weight.”
“Perfect. I’ll take this one.” The woman held up a transparent green crystal to the light.
“Good choice. When the apatite is that color, it’s called an asparagus stone. Pick two more crystals for your charm bag, a fire agate that motivates physical activity, and an angelite for spiritual assistance. While you do that, I’ll get your charm bag ready with the herbs and oils.”
Skye went to Kyle with a red charm bag for him to place the herbs in. “Thanks again, Kyle,” she said, turning to go back to her customer.
A sharp jab in the middle of her back made her jump.
“Uh, oh. Boo-boo,” Kyle said, pointing between her shoulder blades.
What the heck was he talking about now? Maybe he overheard her complaining about backaches before. She’d check it out later. Skye assembled everything in the bag and handed it to the woman.
“Whenever you need energy to exercise, or need motivation to lose weight, take out the crystals and rub them between your palms. Visualize the end result and this will help you meet your goals.”
Her customer looked around the store as if she hoped not to run into anyone she knew. “Thank you so much, I’m sure it will help,” she gushed, scurrying over to pay Glenna at the cash register.
An inner hum of contentment rumbled in her stomach as Skye watched the woman leave. Crystals helped people; they just needed to be pointed in the right direction. Kyle, head down, wandered to the coffeehouse area to help Mama D serve students needing a mid-afternoon coffee pick-me-up. She remembered his boo-boo remark. Curious, she entered the restroom and craned her neck in the mirror.
Several red dots, the size of M&M candies, stained her shirt and lined the middle of her spine. No wonder Kyle thought she was hurt. Skye couldn’t make out exactly what it was so she dashed into a stall and took off her shirt to look closer.
Blood stains. Six bloodstains. Her fingers shook as she held the shirt in front of her. If it had just been one spot of blood, she could dismiss it as maybe a bra hook that had scraped her skin. She ran a hand down her spine, and fingered tiny sores, each about four inches apart. Backaches she was used to, open sores—not so much. Thank goddess it was only an hour until closing time. She could throw a sweater over her shirt, go home, shower, and see if she needed to visit the university infirmary.
It’s a fluke thing, she reassured herself and returned to work, only to find Claribel in rare form, entertaining the customers with a fairy chanting dance. In the middle of the room, she waved a multi-colored streamer like a rhythmic gymnast swirling ribbons.
“Come my little fairies
Let us make merry
Send tiny sparks of energy
So we may join your revelry.”
A guy standing by the bookshelves sidled over to Skye. “Is she for real?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered. Hard to tell how much Claribel believed in the fairy world, or how much was a calculated publicity charade, or a combination of the two.
The guy snickered and assumed a deep, radio-announcer voice.
“Mad or Charmingly Eccentric—You Decide.”
Claribel caught her eye. “Skye, darling, I have a favor to ask you,” she trilled across the room. Motioning to her office with the streamer, Claribel marched ahead, orange and pink maxi skirt billowing in her wake. “Have a seat, dear.”
Claribel fumbled around her crowded desk of crystals, teacups and papers.
“Here’s what I was looking for!” She held up an inventory book in triumph. “Delia and I are going to be at that metaphysical workshop in Birmingham tomorrow.”
A perfect opportunity for Kheelan to meet Kyle at the shop, Skye thought in excitement. If she could get rid of Glenna awhile.
“While we’re gone, I want you to go through the stock book and place an order for several dozen more of those gorgeous lavender soaps everyone is buying. Also, reorder all the essential oils we’re running low on and more of those astrology posters on display in the coffeehouse. Several students expressed an interest in purchasing one.”
“No problem.” Skye found a blank piece of paper and a pen and made notes.
“You’re doing a wonderful job with your additional duties. Delia and I really appreciate it. I hope none of the other employees gave you a hard time about it.”
Skye shrugged. “Not too bad.” She didn’t want to rat on Glenna who had ranted about it for over an hour. She changed the subject. “Why don’t you two go ahead and leave the store now? I can close up for you.”
Claribel clapped her hands. “That’s a great idea, if you don’t mind. Our bags are packed and if we leave now, we’ll miss the rush hour traffic.”
In a surprising feat of organization, Claribel and Delia left the store within thirty minutes, leaving Skye alone with Glenna, Kyle and two other employees. While they handled the remaining customers, Skye sat in Claribel’s chair to look over the paperwork for the stock reorders. She eyed the other books and papers on the desk curiously. There were a handful of bills, bank deposits and a payroll ledger.
She picked up the ledger and rifled through it. Something was going on here at the store. Maybe there was a paper trail of some sort. Her finger edged down the columns and stopped on the name ‘Glenna Joy Harris.’ She snickered in disbelief at the irony. She didn’t know anyone more unjoyful than Glenna.
“What are you doing in here?”
Skye shut the ledger guiltily and confronted Glenna’s scowling face in the doorway.
“Working. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Snooping.”
“I’m ordering supplies, not that it’s any of your business.” Skye hoped Glenna didn’t notice the hot flush creeping up her neck.
“It’s six o’clock, time to go.”
“You go ahead. I’m going to finish this paperwork. Just lock the door behind you.”
Glenna leaned against the doorway and crossed her arms. “I don’t know why they chose you.” She frowned, eyes ablaze with indignation. “I’m the one who should have been promoted.”
Skye sh
rugged. “Take it up with them.”
“Maybe I will.” Glenna abruptly stormed out and Skye rolled her eyes.
“Brown Noser.” Glenna stuck her head in the door and spat out the words before taking off again for good. The entry door slammed shut as she left with the others, the bells above the door ringing dizzily.
Finally, alone.
Skye listened to the silence, thinking of Kheelan. Would he call her tonight? Her fingers tap-danced on Claribel’s landline phone, itching to hear his voice. She could call him. Never chase a man, you’ll look desperate. Skye heard her mother’s admonition as clearly as if she was standing in the room. But if she had a good reason . . .
She took in the mounds of haphazard paperwork on the desk and sighed. Going through all this would take time and seriously interfere with her schoolwork schedule.
“But how often do you have a chance to balance the scales of justice and save the good guys?” she wondered aloud. Not to mention having a legit reason to call a gorgeous guy whose kisses left her reeling. Resolutely, she dug in, not even sure what she was looking for, but hopeful there was a clue somewhere as to why pixies were being trapped and murdered at The Green Fairy.
Forty minutes later, she held up a paper in excitement.
Five days until Samhain, and the blood moon was ever closer to its zenith. The earthly plane filled with all shapes and sizes of the Unseelie fairies roaming unseen by most human eyes. Kheelan ignored them, his mind focused on finding the house of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Jeffries, his not-so-dead parents. He drove through the upscale neighborhood conscious of the loud noise his motorcycle made in the quiet, oak-lined subdivision with driveways full of BMW, Lexus and Mercedes vehicles. He and his beat-up Honda Shadow didn’t belong—on so many levels. He turned onto Pinewood Street and slowed to read the mailbox numbers. 320, 319, his heart raced the closer he got. 318, 317 . . . mailbox number 316—The Jeffries.
He took a quick glance around and saw no one. Just him and the hobgoblins. He let down the kickstand and turned off the engine.
The two-story Tudor style home exuded solid upper middle-class respectability, from the well-manicured lawn to the silver Corvette in the driveway. Someone had a bit of a sporty streak.
Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series) Page 10