by Ani Gonzalez
"Not the romance section again." Holly groaned. "He hates those books and he drops them to the floor all the time. I don't want to reshelf them again."
"You won't," Caine replied testily. "If we get this stuff out of here quickly enough."
"I'm going." Liam walked to the door. "I wouldn't want to exacerbate your paperbackphobia."
"Laugh it up, Liam," Caine snorted. "You think you're tough because you have a curse? Wait until you have to deal with an angry ghost."
Liam walked out into the August heat and headed for the parking lot, Caine's words still ringing in his ears.
Would the veil between the worlds grow weaker during the Ghost Festival? Would that make the curse even stronger?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
KAT THREW herself on the plush armchair and sighed. The seat sagged and the fabric on the armrest was fraying, but it was sturdy and comfortable.
"This is wonderful," she muttered, resting her aching body for a minute. "Thanks."
She'd been working all day and her muscles ached, but it was all worth it. The botánica was completely transformed.
The space looked clean and bright with polished wood floors and shelves laden with books. Arcane posters lined the walls and statues depicting various deities stood at attention in the corners. A clothing rack held magical robes and tall metal racks displayed colorful jewelry. Her own pieces lay beautifully arranged inside the display counters, and Yolanda's beaded necklaces hung from metal hooks on the walls. Antique apothecary jars filled with herbs and other magical ingredients lined the shelves behind the counter. Kat had been surprised to see the gorgeous glass and porcelain jars in the storage room, where Yolanda had hidden them away. What had she been thinking?
Sure, Kat wasn't supposed to go into the inventory room. There was supposed to be something there, something even Yolanda was wary off. She hadn't felt anything though, just a feeling of surprise, maybe? Curiosity?
Hagen House had spoiled her. Ordinary paranormal phenomena didn't faze her now.
And her little foray into the dreaded inventory room had been totally worth it. Thanks to the new decor, the store was no longer the mystical equivalent of a cheap five-and-dime. It now resembled a turn-of-the-century apothecary, with red walls, curved armchairs in a red and gold pattern, a stained glass lamp, and a glorious gold-tinged Persian rug that Liam had brought from the library. She fully expected the librarians to drop by and retake their possessions, but until that happened, the botánica looked gorgeous. The gold-bead curtain that separated the storage room from the rest of the store used to look cheap and tacky, but it now appeared bohemian and exotic.
It was a miracle.
And it almost made up for the fact that, according to Liam, the Ghost Festival might interfere with breaking the Hagen House curse.
Almost.
Liam laughed as he shelved books in the astrology section. "It does look good. You may even be able to convince that Tarot card reader to come back with this setup."
Kat settled back on the chair, enjoying the glow of the lamp. "Someone used to do Tarot?"
"Yep, for like a day. She quit in a huff when Yolanda made her use folding chairs and plastic tablecloths. She said the atmosphere wasn't conducive to seeing into the beyond."
Kat smiled. "Well, it's perfect now."
The table and chairs were ideal for a divination session. She could add some candles and maybe an embroidered tablecloth.
Liam shelved the last book and straightened. "It's also done. Everyone's heading to the pizzeria to celebrate that they're almost finished with the preparations for the festival. Do you want to join them?"
Kat frowned. "They're celebrating 'almost'? Shouldn't they wait until they're completely done?"
Liam chuckled. "Probably, but Caine likes to keep people motivated. The PRoVE guys tend to get distracted easily and pizza keeps them focused. What do you think? Should we go?"
She frowned. She didn't feel like hanging out with people tonight. She'd much rather have a bubble bath, a light dinner, and a chance to become better acquainted with her new husband.
"I don't feel much like pizza and we still have that Italian wedding soup in the fridge," she said with a pout. "How about we stay in tonight?" She tried for a sultry glance but she wasn't entirely certain she succeeded.
Sultry wasn't her strong point.
But Liam's eyes darkened in a way that made her feel that maybe sultry was becoming a possibility for her.
He cleared his throat. "I have to drop by and thank everyone for helping out."
She raised a brow. "You mean you have to pick up the bill."
He smiled. "That too. The PRoVE guys are coming over tomorrow to do the interview. I'd prefer if they were in a good mood."
"You go do that. I'll close up the store while you're gone."
He bent to kiss her. "Sounds like a plan. I'll pick you up after I'm done."
His lips grazed her cheek and he walked out the door. The contact made her shiver.
Oh, yeah. She definitely wanted some quality time with her new husband tonight.
But first, cleanup. She reluctantly got up from the comfy chair and checked the store. Everything seemed in place. The display case looked a bit empty, but that should be fixed really soon. She'd called one of her friends in New York and her jewelry pieces were being shipped to Virginia, express mail. By tomorrow afternoon that display case would be full.
She was both nervous and excited. She'd done a couple of street fairs, so she knew her pieces could sell, but this felt different somehow. It didn't feel like the usual consignment agreement.
It felt like her life was on the line.
Aren't you? Cassie's comment about being a witch still rang in her ears. Surely it wasn't possible.
Was it?
She leaned over the display case, examining her work. There was the agate pendant inspired by Foucalt's Pendulum, the pink quartz necklace she'd made after visiting the classical wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the winged ring she'd made based on Egyptian inscriptions.
How much do you want for the necklace? Cassie had definitely thought that her jewelry had some kind of power.
Did it? She'd always felt a surge of energy while working on her pieces, an electric feeling that came over her whenever a particular combination of stone and metal struck her as correct. She'd thought of it as inspiration, but maybe she'd been wrong. Come to think of it, some of her clients in Manhattan were witches. They really liked her work. She'd thought it was because she used only natural materials and she often made pieces with mythological and folkloric themes.
But maybe there was more.
She grabbed one of her favorite creations, a large, perfectly round pendant made of clear quartz. The stone was perfect, except for a streak of white in the middle. The white vein gleamed as the pendant turned in the light. Yolanda's guide to stones said that quartz provided clarity and foresight.
Kat badly needed both. As both a Hagen and Banshee Creek native, Liam may be used to living with a potentially dangerous paranormal manifestation. He'd worked with haunted houses all of his life, so a lingering curse or a slow-moving magical remedy was a run-of-the-mill experience for him.
It wasn't to Kat.
She wanted to know more. Was the Ghost Festival interfering or strengthening the curse? Did that mean that they were dealing with a ghost and not a pernicious, and potentially deadly, streak of bad luck? But, if so, why was Violetta's ghost angry? The whole point of the Santelli-Hagen marriage was to join the bloodlines and make the ghost happy.
Was it because their marriage was fake?
Or was it something else?
Did she, as Yolanda said, have the power to find out?
Or even to fix it?
She sat back on the chair under the light of the stained glass lamp and laid the stone out. It rolled on the golden tablecloth, suddenly sparkling with color.
It certainly looked magical.
But what was she supposed to d
o with it? The Witchcraft 101 book said she had to focus on her intentions.
Clarity. Foresight. Knowledge. She focused on that. She'd picked this stone for a reason. What did she want to know?
Actually, she had several unanswered questions. Was the curse broken? Was the looming sense of menace she felt just her imagination? Would she be able to sell the house and return to New York? If the curse was still here, what did she need to do to break it?
Was she in love?
The thought popped into her head, making her frown. That wasn't why she was here.
She was here to sell the house.
She focused on the gemstone like the Witchcraft 101 book suggested. She stared at the glowing crystal and let her mind drift. She pictured selling the house and getting enough money to start up her dream jewelry store in Soho. She pictured a sleekly modern space with metal shelves and exposed brick.
But the image kept fading, replaced by a homey vintage apothecary with rustic shelving and beaded curtains.
She took a deep breath and started over. This time she pictured the Hagen House with a sold sign in front. Maybe a nice family would move in. A couple with a love for classic architecture and a high tolerance for ghost hunters and other rubberneckers would be perfect. Kids would be nice too. That family room was perfect for kids. She could picture a little girl with black curls fighting her redheaded brother for the last Banshee Creek Bakery cupcake...
Wait. Curls? Red hair? A little boy who looked like a miniature Liam?
Crap. What was she doing? She was an idiot. Cassie was an idiot. This whole town was idiot city.
She threw the pendant to the floor and collapsed on the chair. She watched as the pendant drew a glittery arc in the air, the overhead lights making it shimmer. After an impossibly long time the necklace hit the wood floor.
And cracked. The sound of the crash echoed around the store. Strange how such a small stone could make such a big noise.
She stared in disbelief as the stone broke open. That was impossible. Even her toughest drill would only make a dent in that rock. A little fall like that shouldn't hurt it at all.
She shivered as an oily darkness seeped into the room. The light from the lamp faded. The overhead lights dimmed.
She sat, unable to move, dread creeping over her. She felt cornered, trapped, as if something old and evil was drawing near.
She'd always wondered why horror movie heroines had such slow reactions. How could they just stand there and stare as the bloody serial killer or sharp-toothed thing crawled towards them? Why didn't they run?
Now she knew. You couldn't move, not with this oozing, dark feeling creeping over you.
The door chime rang. "Kat, are you here? Zach gave me some fresh bread for the soup."
Liam's voice broke the spell. She jumped out of the chair and practically ran to the door and into his arms.
"Whoa," he exclaimed, laughing at her eagerness. "I guess you really like carbs."
The warmth of his body, the booming echo of his laugh, it all made the darkness disappear. It was almost as if she'd dreamt it. She found herself giggling nervously, in an uncontrollable paroxysm of relief.
"Let's go home," she urged. "I need to ..."
... get out of here.
But she didn't say that out loud. "I need to get to that bread before it gets cold."
She left his embrace and reached for her purse, wanting to leave the store as quickly as possible, before that suffocating feeling came back.
Liam chuckled as he turned off the lights. "If I'd known you loved bread this much, I would've gotten you a whole basket."
She shivered as the lights dimmed. It wasn't as overwhelming as the creepy darkness, but still.
"What's this?" Liam asked, bending down. "I think one of your necklaces fell."
A thrill of fear ran through her. "Leave it. I think it's broken. I'll clean it up tomorrow."
He stood up, the crystal pendant hanging from his hand. "It looks fine to me."
She stared at the perfect crystal sphere, glowing in the moon light. It was untouched.
Not even a scratch.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"CAINE AND his minions are on their way," Liam said, handing Kat her coffee. "But I can call and cancel if you want."
They were in the kitchen having breakfast. Well, he was having breakfast, Kat was staring at a book.
The Santelli recipe book.
The one that had been permanently checked out—stolen, Holly would say—from the library. Somehow, Kat had gotten her hands on it.
He was worried about her. She'd seemed jittery and nervous yesterday, and as far as he could tell, had barely slept all night. Now, she was refusing breakfast. How could she resist three boxes of Banshee Creek Bakery's most popular donut creations? He'd bought several boxes in preparation for the PRoVE interview. In Liam's experience, Caine's crew worked best when there were plenty of snacks around. There was peanut butter and jelly, s'mores flavor, and even his favorite, maple bacon. If Kat backed out of the interview, they'd have enough leftover donuts to feed an army.
He didn't make the offer lightly. Canceling on Caine would likely mean no Hagen House special and no PRoVE publicity for the house sale, but it would be worth it to see Kat relax. He didn't know why, but she'd been acting strange since last night. She'd been happy about the botánica remodel and then, wham.
Weirdness.
Sure, it had worked out in his favor. She'd pretty much ripped his clothes off when they got back to the house and they'd spent most of the night making love. That wasn't something any red-blooded man would turn down.
But there'd been an odd feeling about it. A wrongness that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
And it was still hanging around.
"I'm okay," Kat murmured, grabbing the coffee cup, her eyes still on the stupid clothbound book.
She'd been reading that book all morning. Actually, he strongly suspected that she'd woken up early to study it. Research, she called it, as if Caine and his posse would be quizzing her on the use of bitter almond syrup in the Santelli recipes.
It wasn't natural.
"Did you know that you gave me William Hagen's ring?" she asked, still staring at the pages.
"No. Did I?" He'd given her an old ring he'd found in his family's safe deposit box. It didn't look very valuable—the stone was so small you could barely see it—but it was pretty and he'd thought Kat, with her love for jewelry, would at least find it interesting.
"Yep. It was mentioned in a note hidden in this book."
And then she kept on reading. He was about to snatch the book away when she looked up, frowning.
"Did you change the balustrade over the foyer?" she asked.
He crossed his arms and contemplated burning the stupid book. What did his staircase remodel have to do with anything?
"No," he answered curtly. "We fixed and re-stained it."
The answer did not please her and she buried her nose in the book again. He was strongly tempted to grab the book and throw it into the trash compactor.
He took a sip of coffee instead.
"Do you want a refill?" he asked, noting her empty cup.
"No, thanks." She looked up. "Have you ever wondered why you haven't had an accident or misfortune inside the house? Violetta supposedly cursed all the Hagens, but you haven't been affected at all."
"Are you kidding?" he snorted. "I had to put the chandelier back together. Three times."
She raised a brow. "That's not the same as a bullet to the head or a bankruptcy, both of which befell your ancestors."
He opened his mouth to argue that putting together that chandelier would make anyone contemplate suicide, but the doorbell rang and put the kibosh on that train of thought.
"That's Caine," he said. "You can still back out if you'd like."
She raised her head and glanced at the entrance, eyes narrowed.
"No," she drawled. "I think the PRoVE guys can help me out."
&n
bsp; "Help you out with what?"
But she'd already gotten up and headed for the front door, leaving him alone in the kitchen with the accursed book.
And three boxes of donuts.
He took a maple bacon donut and followed her. The interview might turn out to be a horrible ordeal, but at least he had sugar.
And bacon.
He stepped into the foyer and immediately stopped in his tracks. He'd expected to see Caine and his PRoVE buddies, not Yolanda and Cassie with suitcases and bags, including a dress bag that seemed to be holding clothes. They crowed around Kat chattering like magpies and examining her hair and face.
He might need another donut or two.
"What the..." his voice trailed off as Cassie unzipped the bag dramatically, revealing a ruffled shirt. "What are you doing?"
Cassie smiled brightly, showing off the shirt. "We're the costume department."
He stared at Cassie in horror, which only made her laugh.
"Don't worry," she said. "The shirt is not for you. We're not going for the Fabio look this time." She pointed at Kat. "We're trying to make her look a bit more like the Santelli heiress."
Kat did not look too happy. "I'm not sure—"
But Cassie grabbed her arm and dragged her up the stairs. "C'mon, Liam, don't be a party pooper. Gus' last video hit a million views on YouTube and I need to beat that or he'll never let me forget it."
Yolanda and Cassie pushed Kat up the stairs, and he had a sudden feeling of déjà vu. Kat's bewildered gaze, Cassie's smirk, the frothy white fabric; it was as if he'd already lived through this moment. Kat's friends pulling her up the stairs, laughing, holding her wedding gown.
Whoa. Wedding gown? Where did that come from? Kat hadn't worn a wedding gown to their town hall wedding, just elegant slacks and pearls. Simple and tasteful.
So why was he picturing her in ruffles and lace?
He shook the image out of his head and turned to greet Caine as he carried equipment into the house.
"Outta the way," the PRoVE leader growled. "I mortgaged my soul to get this stuff. I don't want you, or the Hagen House curse, to break it."