Sticks & Stones: (Urban Fantasy) (Daughters of Hecate Book 2)

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Sticks & Stones: (Urban Fantasy) (Daughters of Hecate Book 2) Page 6

by Merdith Medina


  * * *

  I didn’t see Eli that night, or the night after. I didn’t leave the window open either, but every morning when I got up there was a freshly plucked rose on my window ledge. I shook my head as I added the latest peace offering to the Mason jar on the table before heading out the door and making my way to work.

  Haven was the same as it always was, the little pumpkin lights winked at me from the darkened space, and I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe I should ask Lacey where she bought them. I wasn’t much for celebrating holidays, but I might make an exception for something like that.

  I was supposed to be working with Rachel. She had called in sick for a few shifts specifically to fuck with me, but that was water under the bridge as far as I was concerned. I preferred working alone, and I’d told David that on multiple occasions, but he just wouldn’t listen.

  “I can’t do it, Fee, ‘HR’ would kill me,” he’d said. ‘Human Resources’ in this instance was his wife Candace, and I had no doubt that she was more than capable of making good on her threats.

  I started my opening duties, expecting a flustered Rachel to run in at any second, haphazardly apologizing for being late, just like she always did. But the morning rush began, ended, and began again, and there was still no sign of her. I gave her until lunchtime before texting David to let him know that she hadn’t shown up. It’s wasn’t a big deal, and working alone always made the day go faster, so I wasn’t too pissed.

  David didn’t seem worried either, but while I was in the middle of dealing with a late flood of customers, my phone chimed several times. When I could finally stopped long enough to check it, I had a screen full of messages from Lacey.

  Did Rach show today?

  She didn’t come in on Friday and she didn’t RSVP for my Halloween party... do u think something’s up? Should I bake her something?

  I texted back quickly, something noncommittal about Rachel not showing up for work, and I ignored the baking question entirely. Lacey had what some would call a ‘lovely’ habit of whipping up seasonal baked goods whenever someone was feeling under the weather, or had experienced a particularly bad breakup, and while most appreciated the gesture, it was way too much for me to handle. I don’t know what I’d do if she showed up on my doorstep with a batch of gluten-free, wheat free, Vegan, sugar free, (flavor free) pumpkin muffins. Don’t get me wrong, she was creative with her Pinterest recipe recreations... they just weren’t my thing, and I was pretty sure that I’d lost my sweet tooth about a hundred years ago.

  I finished up my shift, restocked the shelves and left a note in the till to remind David about an overdue supplier invoice that had been delivered by our surly milkman, Vinny. He was my favorite, and I always had a triple shot Americano waiting for him when he came in with our Monday milk order. I could be nice, when I wanted to be.

  Vinny was also a great source of rare vinyl records, but that was our little secret.

  * * *

  The next few days passed uneventfully, Lacey took over Rachel’s shifts, which meant that whenever we had a quiet moment I had to hear all about how her ‘spoopy plans’ for her epic Halloween party were progressing.

  “I never expected that someone like you would feel weird about celebrating Halloween, Fee!” she exclaimed on one such occasion.

  I bristled just a little before putting a neutral expression on my face, “Someone like me?” I asked.

  “Oh, don’t be like that, Fee, I just assume that anyone I get along with this well has to be into the same kinds of things I am! I mean, why else would the universe had brought us together?” Lacey had one of those wide-eyed innocent approaches to life that made it really hard not to find endearing. People talked about old and new souls all the time. And if that was really a thing, Lacey’s definitely still had that new car smell to it.

  “The universe? I dunno about that, Lacey, the need to pay my rent brought me here, and David makes the schedules... I’m not sure what the universe has to do with any of that.”

  Lacey grinned and shook her finger at me, “Don’t you mock the universe’s plans, Ophelia Turner! Something special brought us together, I’m sure of it.”

  I shrugged and left her to her happy fictions. It must be nice to have such an uncomplicated thought process. Meanwhile, I had a boyfriend to confront about his shit behavior, a missing co-worker, and a half-written potion recipe to figure out.

  My day with Lacey was uneventful, as most Thursday’s are, but as we were just about to start giving thirty-minute warnings to the afternoon crop of Wi-Fi warriors when an older woman came through the door. She ordered a chamomile tea, nothing fancy, but I added a little dash of magic to it anyway. Anyone drinking chamomile tea did it for a reason, and it was for that fact alone that I demanded David spend the extra few dollars on loose tea and not a pre-packed teabag that was mostly filler.

  I was just putting the lid on her cup when Lacey’s squeal of joy filled the shop. “I recognize you! You read Tarot cards! I’ve seen you in the park! Oh please... please will you do a reading for me?”

  The woman raiser her eyebrow at me, but smiled kindly in Lacey’s direction and agreed.

  “Fee, could you...” Lacey indicated the earnest hopeful screenwriters (they were always screenwriters) that occupied the last few tables. I nodded begrudgingly as she giggled and followed the fortune-teller to the overstuffed chairs by the ‘take-a-book nook.’

  I’d never spoken to any kind of fortune-teller. Even if it was all smoke and mirrors, the chance that they would actually be sensitive to what was really going on with me was too big a chance to take. I might think about running away to San Francisco when things got weird (and they’d been weird plenty of times), but New York was my home, and I wasn’t ready to cut and run just yet.

  I only half listened to what the older woman was saying to Lacey, but as she began to lay down the cards, my ears pricked up.

  “The Devil,” the woman said, her voice solemn. Lacey frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “If you’re going to launch into some lecture about Jesus, you can forget it,” she said petulantly. Knowing Lacey, she’d been expecting some fluffy prediction about meeting a tall handsome stranger after he ordered a very specifically detailed latte. The woman smiled kindly and gestured at the deck.

  “I merely pull the cards, it is your destiny that calls them forward.”

  Lacy sighed noisily; this was obviously not going her way. I smiled and started putting up chairs at a leisurely pace.

  The fortune-teller fanned out the cards and held them out to Lacey, “You choose the next one, dear. Just remember that there are many, many ways that this card can be interpreted, but everything depends on the pairing.” She held the cards steady as Lacey hesitated, her hand poised to pluck a card from the deck. “Just close your eyes and choose, don’t think about it too much, the cards will reveal the truth.”

  Lacey did as she was told, her freckled nose wrinkling slightly as she tried to concentrate on what she wanted... but not too hard. With a little squeal, she finally selected a card and handed it to the woman who placed it face up on the table between them.

  “The Tower.”

  There was a small silence as Lacey tried to figure out if that was good or bad, but I knew it was bad.

  “The Tower... and The Devil,” Lacey paused, her eyebrow raised skeptically. “So, what does that mean? I’m going to get back together with my ex? He just moved into an apartment downtown, Fee... maybe that’s what it means, what do you think?”

  “I dunno, Lacey. Maybe let the expert tell you. I’m just a coffee wench.” I put up another chair and tried to pretend that the cards Lacey had been given weren’t a dire warning... I mean, not all predictions came true, but the ones that did made everyone’s lives shitty, and I was not into that right now.

  “Well?” Lacey was trying to sound as though she didn’t care, but I could tell that she was nervous.

  “I hate to tell you that this pairing is not as
advantageous as I would like, and unfortunately, the young man with pale eyes does not feature in this particular prediction.”

  Lacey’s eyes widened, but she said nothing as the woman pulled the cards closer. The Tower was engulfed in smoke and flames and I could almost hear the crackle of the inferno within. I shuddered briefly and tried to hide my discomfort in straightening and wiping down the sugar station.

  “These cards warn of a dire outcome... a dire outcome brought on by addiction. Addiction takes many forms, child. This is a warning that must be heeded.”

  Lacey laughed awkwardly and tried to get my attention. “They’re just cards, right Fee?” She looked back to the older woman, her eyes wide and pleading, “Can you try again? But this time... no Devils, okay?”

  The woman leaned forward and grasped Lacey’s hands. I turned as Lacey gasped sharply as the woman’s fingers tightened.

  “This is not fair ground hocus pocus. These are predictions, warnings. Do not ignore them.”

  “Ow! Fine! I get the point; no addictions, I get it.” Lacey jerked her hands away and sat back in her chair, her eyes on the cards. “Are you sure you don’t have any rich stockbrokers in there for me?”

  The woman smiled again, but the sentiment didn’t reach her eyes. “There’s no need to worry, my dear. The cards can be fickle. We will draw again.”

  “Fine, but this time I get to choose them,” Lacey crossed her arms over her chest.

  The older woman shuffled the cards back into the deck, mixing them silently before she held the cards out for Lacey to cut.

  She set the deck down and spread it across the table.

  “Choose again,” the woman said graciously. I leaned against the counter, my hands shoved into my pockets.

  The fortune-teller sat back and gestured for Lacey to make her choices.

  Lacey looked at me, and then reached out confidently and slid two cards from the spread. She grinned broadly, obviously pleased with her choices.

  The fortune-teller placed her hands palm down over the cards and closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before flipping the cards Lacey had chosen over with a faint snap.

  The Devil.

  The Tower.

  Lacey stood up from her chair, the legs scraping loudly over the polished concrete floor.

  Silence fell over the shop. Oppressive silence.

  “What the fuck is this?” Lacy said, her voice flat.

  The fortune-teller looked up from the cards, her eyes wide, and I thought I detected a hint of fear in their depths. With quick movements the woman swept the cards into the velvet bag she had produced them from and pulled her carpet bag over her shoulder.

  Lacey was freaking out, barely noticing the woman’s discomfort.

  “Nope. Nope, nope, nope. I’m done. Thank you so, so much for your time and your creepy predictions, but if you don’t have any bad boy billionaires in those cards, I think we’re ready to close up, right, Fee?”

  “Sure, I’ve been ready to go home for about an hour now…”

  I didn’t have time to escort the woman out, she fled the shop before I could say anything.

  “What the fuck was that about?” I asked.

  Lacey shrugged, seemingly unaffected by anything that had just happened. “I don’t know why I expected anything special from some carnival sideshow… gypsies, amirate?” Lacey chuckled but I didn’t laugh. The whole exchange had unnerved me, but I wasn’t going to tell Lacey. I just wanted to get home. And I wanted to be out of here before the sun went down.

  9

  “Can you believe that, Fee? What a ridiculous party trick.”

  Lacey had spent the better part of the last half an hour ranting about the cards she had drawn from the fortune-teller’s deck while I counted the till. She didn’t have to stay, but she seemed unwilling to leave me alone. Usually when our shift ended, Lacey was out the door before the last chair had made it on top of the counter.

  “You’re the one who asked, Lacey,” I said flatly. Stating the obvious wasn’t really my style, but she was starting to get on my nerves.

  “I know, but I was hoping for something a little more... I dunno, country fair oriented, you know? The kind where a spoopy old woman in a black lace shawl and a bad fake accent tells me what my future husband will look like and how many children I’m going to have.” She groaned dramatically and slumped in one of the overstuffed chairs. “Maybe I’ll just go home and read my own cards. I never draw anything that dire when I do it myself.”

  If you want something done properly, do it yourself, right? I chuckled and counted the cash one more time.

  Lacey jumped up from her chair, “Fee, will you let me read the cards for you on Halloween? Pleeeeease.” She hopped up and down on her toes, her hands pressed together in mock prayer.

  “Oh, no thanks, Lacey. I’m totally cool not knowing what’s up with my future.” If I wouldn’t let a professional draw my cards, there was no way I’d leave it to an amateur. Plus, what if she got lucky? What if my magic felt particularly inclined to exert some kind of influence over the cards… I wasn’t going to take any chances. I was also about 75% sure that I would be coming up with some excuse for missing her party anyway. Her obsession with these cards might push me to 80%.

  “Are you sure?” Lacey’s eyes were huge and pleading, but I wasn’t going to budge.

  “Totally sure,” I said, scratching at my arm. “I think I might be allergic to that pumpkin spice air freshener you’ve been spraying everywhere.”

  Lacey gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, “Oh, no! You can’t be! Please tell me you’re joking! I mean, this is the pumpkin spiciest time of the year and if I can’t… would you be ok with some candles? David would let me light candles, wouldn’t he?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You know how customers can be… remember that one woman who complained about Rachel’s perfume and now we’re not allowed to wear anything at all? Plus, fire hazard.” I was fucking with her, but I was in a snippy mood and I wanted to go home. It was getting late, Eli would be getting up soon, and he was almost the last person I wanted to see right now. Almost.

  I plucked the can from underneath the counter and held it out to her, wiggling it in my fingers.

  Lacey pouted, grabbed the can and shoved it into her bag. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you have to promise me that you won’t tell David I was spraying it in here, I know he’d pitch a fit and I need this job… promise meeee!”

  “Fine, fine, I won’t say anything,” I said, leaving Lacey alone as I went into the office and slid the till into the safe that David had sunk into the wall. The safe was mostly for show, and I wasn’t sure that he even remembered the code. I closed it gently, being sure not to let it lock.

  David’s desk was always a mess, and I’m sure he wouldn’t know what was on it if I asked him, but a bright pink post-it-note was stuck to his computer screen.

  Rachel?????

  I knew that she had missed a few shifts, but that wasn’t uncommon this time of year. I didn’t know Rachel very well, but exams and college events seemed to occupy most of her time when she wasn’t at work, and when she was at work she was always talking about some club, fundraiser, or rally she was part of.

  College seemed much more tiresome than it did when I was there. Could you get a degree in fundraising? Maybe I should apply again… after 127 years my skills could probably use some upgrading.

  I pulled the post-it-note off the computer screen and noticed that there were more notes underneath. David was notorious for not returning phone calls or emails, and he had a habit of only hiring people that brought in a printed resume and shot the shit with him.

  Constable L. Brandon came in AGAIN re: Rachel. Call him back please!!!!

  A phone number was scrawled below. A cop was asking about Rachel? Oh, shit. That was never a good sign. The last time a cop had been in Haven it had been a completely benign encounter, something coffee related I think, but that was years ago.

  How m
any times had this Constable Brandon come in? I replaced that post-it, making sure to leave the one with the cop’s number exposed. I’d have to remember to ask David about it tomorrow.

  “Fee, come ON!” Lacey’s whine traveled back to the office and I grabbed my jacket and bag from the office floor before closing the door behind me. Of course, now that she wanted to leave we had to be quick about it. Typical.

  I checked the back door and had just flipped off the light when I heard a choked scream from the front of the shop. I gripped my bag tightly and ran down the hallway towards the sound.

  “Lacey?!”

  She was frozen in place, staring out the window of the shop. The sun had gone down while I was in David’s office, and I swallowed thickly as I saw Eli’s pale face at the window. He must have startled her.

  “Lacey, are you okay?” I said gently, putting my hand on her arm. She jumped slightly, keeping her eyes on Eli’s ghostly form. He looked even paler than usual, but he was haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. A cigarette dangled from between his lips and I made a face.

  “I’m… I’m fine,” Lacey said quietly, finally dragging her eyes away from my boyfriend. “Who is that? I think I’ve seen him around before, but I’m not sure…”

  I patted her shoulder and held out her jacket, “It’s fine. He’s waiting for me.” Lacey took her jacket, her face brightening instantly.

  “Waiting for you? Fee, do you have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell me? You’re the worst!” She punched me lightly on the shoulder, her face a mask of mock outrage. “And here I thought we were the best of friends!”

  “Sorry, Lacey, he’s not my boyfriend. Just a friend…” I wasn’t telling her shit. She would assume that Eli and I were an item anyway, but I had no intention of confirming those suspicions.

  “Whatever, Fee. I don’t believe you anyway.”

  Typical.

 

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