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Justice Calling(3)

By:Annie Bellet

“Fine,” he said and I swear to the Universe the bastard smirked at me.



Ciaran’s shop is an antiquer’s paradise and a neat freak’s nightmare. Also probably a nightmare if you have allergies.  He kept it tidy, in its own cluttered way, but trying to keep dust off a few hundred old books, paintings, curio cabinets full of knives, glassware, art plates, figurines, tools with unknown purpose, guns that saw use last during the Civil War, and other interesting items was a task even an immortal couldn’t manage.
The shop had an almost smoky, magical feel that I loved. Above us chandeliers of all kinds from elk antlers to Waterford crystal lit the place, casting shadows into the shadows until you felt as though you might come around a table piled with swords and find the wardrobe that leads to Narnia.  The air wasn’t musty, instead it was perfumed with orange and clove and some sort of citrus sent from whatever Ciaran used to wipe down the tables.  The best part was that sometimes Ciaran really did have a magical item or two, though it was rare and he generally had me destroy them if we couldn’t figure out what they did. Letting normals buy magical things was just asking for later trouble that nobody wanted.
“Hey,” I whispered to Harper as we entered the shop, “What flavor is that Justice, anyway?”
“Flavor?” She whispered back. “Scary with a dollop of sexy?”
“No, like animal flavor,” I said, whacking the back of her head with my palm.
“Oh. Tiger.” She grinned and rubbed her head.
“Figures,” I muttered. “Guess he wouldn’t be like a rabbit or something.”  I’d bet a week of earnings he would be the biggest damn tiger ever. Shifter animals were usually larger than real world ones anyway, but odds were that cocky bastard would be like the strongest, prettiest tiger ever to live. The universe was just like that.
“Most shifters are predators,” Harper said, ducking in front of me.  “Makes sense someone who has to like hunt bad shifters and stuff would be a super predator, right?”
“You two done gossiping?” Ciaran called back to us. He was already halfway through the store.
Harper, and I wound our way through the tables and cabinets toward the back office where Ciaran kept any interesting purchases for me to go over, just in case, before putting them out on the floor.  
“Was at an auction in Seattle last month,” Ciaran explained, using English for Harper’s benefit, “just got the goods shipped in today. Some old pieces; might be worth checking out before I put a price on them.  Even found some of those silver buttons your mum likes so much, Azalea.”
Harper wrinkled her nose at him. He knew she hated being called by her name and preferred her gamer handle.  She was about to reply when she stopped cold in front of me, forcing me to do a little dance sideways to avoid running into her. My arm wacked a cabinet and it jingled and rocked but settled without breaking anything.  Thank the universe. I figure if something ever fell in here, it would domino and the whole place would crash like a bad YouTube video.
“Where… how… no… I…” Harper couldn’t get words out. She just pointed at a large stuffed fox that was perched on top of an oriental dresser.
“What about it, love? Are you all right?” Ciaran reached for Harper as she started to sink to the floor with horrible half-mewing, half-gulping cries.
I caught her first, wrapping my arms around her wiry body and finally seeing her face. Tears made her mascara run and her shoulders shook in my arms.
“That’s Rosie,” she gasped.  “That’s my mom!”






 
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Chapter 2


Through the power of Irish hospitality or maybe some magical leprechaun mojo, Ciaran had Harper bundled in a sweater and holding a cup of mint tea before she even realized she’d finally stopped sobbing.  Which was good, because Aleksei, who insisted Harper now call him Alek instead of Justice, was grilling her and Ciaran like a cop pushing a suspect.
To be fair, I don’t think he intended it to come out that way. I’d known him for maybe half an hour now and it seemed he only had one gear and it was stuck on one level: intense.
“I will go through my records, Jade, and see if I can get the ID of the man that sold this to me, all right?” Ciaran said. “It was a young man, on Tuesday, I remember that much.”
“See it done.” Alek turned his icy gaze on Harper. His gaze seemed to soften, but it was hard to tell. “And why did no one notice her missing all this time? You said she’s been gone since last weekend.”