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Rest For The Wicked(16)

By:Cate Dean


Heart thudding in his chest, Eric stood, headed to the street to find a cab. There would be no more solace for him here. He felt the rage building again. He let it in, knowing he would need the strength, the resolve, to do what needed doing.



*



Annie poked her head inside the door, looking embarrassed, ashamed and hopeful all at the same time.

Claire smiled at her before returning her attention to the young couple wanting a set of matching bracelets.

“Yes, the rose quartz is for love, but looking at you two, I’m thinking you don’t need any enhancements. The bracelets will simply strengthen what you already feel for each other.” Claire carried them from the display case over to the counter, the giggling couple following behind her. “Yes, I do have honey dust, in answer to your question.” They stared at her, awe in their eyes. “It’s in the back, next to the Kama Sutra.”

She hid a smile behind her hand when they both blushed and all but ran to the back of the shop.

“Stop waiting for permission to enter, Annie. You never need that.”

Head bowed, Annie stepped inside. Claire met her halfway and wrapped both arms around her. With a shaky breath, Annie sagged against her.

“I’m so sorry—God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“The candle you bought at The Witch’s Way.” Annie flinched, and pulled away, nodding at Claire’s statement. “It was marked.” Annie gasped, clutching Claire’s arms. “And when I confronted Agatha this morning, we discovered that every candle in her shop had been marked as well. I already destroyed them—but that doesn’t change the chilling fact that there is someone in town who knows just how dangerous that mark is.”

Claire eased herself out of Annie’s grip, rubbed her face, suddenly exhausted. Annie caught her around the waist.

“How little sleep did you get last night?”

“None. And stop, Annie, right now. I don’t want you blaming yourself. It should have been a harmless love spell—which I told you not to do. But that mark enhanced your power, twisted it. Did you know Mildred’s latest target is a seventeen-year-old boy?”

Annie blinked.

“The photo she gave me was a man in his sixties—”

“Which was layered on top of the real photo. The one on your altar had the edges burned away.”

Annie cursed under her breath.

“That conniving little—”

“Which is one of the reasons I never deal with her beyond the occasional reading. She has a touch of the power, enough to fool someone not looking for it.” The couple walked out of the back room, the girl clutching a tin of honey dust in her hands, grinning up at her boyfriend. “And here are my young lovers. Don’t go anywhere, Annie—I still want to talk to you.”

Claire rang them up and hustled them out of the shop, trying not to look like she was doing just that. When she turned around Annie retreated.

“Claire—”

“Sit down. We are just going to talk.” She gestured to her reading table, waited for Annie to move, then followed her. Once they sat she reached across the table, took Annie’s hand. “It’s decision time, Annie. Take your power seriously or let it go. For good.”

Her friend stared down at the table.

“I’m afraid of it, Claire. But the way it makes me feel when I use it—I don’t think I can give that up.” She let out her breath and met Claire’s eyes. “I don’t want to give it up.”

“Then we start working. Together. No more late night spells on your own.” She tightened her grip as Annie cringed, then Claire let go and held out both hands. Swallowing, Annie took them. “And no more love spells. Ever. I will give a customer whatever they want to enhance themselves, but I don’t fool with emotions.”

“Okay.” Annie tightened her fingers around Claire’s and leaned forward. “Now it’s my turn. What the hell are you hiding from me?”

Claire tried to jerk away. Annie just held on, the concern in her eyes weighting Claire’s heart.

“I’m sick. And I don’t think I’m shaking this one off.”

“I know you’re sick—you’ve done a great job hiding it from everyone else, but I know you too well. Tell me what’s really going on.”

“Annie—” Claire closed her eyes, wanting to trust. And knowing, if she did, she would lose everything. “I—”

The bell over the door rang, and Claire tugged at her hands. Annie leaned in, whispered to her. “We’re not finished.”

She let go. Claire stood, tucked her hands in the front pockets of her pants so the customers couldn’t see them shaking, and went over to greet them.