Witchy Sour(15)

“Good night, Lily Locke.” He stood and withdrew gold coins from within the depths of his robes. Throwing all of them on the table, he turned and strode toward the door.

“Wait!” I called after him. “This is too much! Ten times the amount due!”

The figure paused at the doorway, his chest rising and falling beneath his robes. “Where I’m going, gold is useless.”

I wanted to call after him that I could help, that maybe there was some antidote. I wanted to shout advice, take back the entire potion, and throw it away for good. But I found myself unable to do any of it. Instead, I stood frozen in place and watched as he left. Gus’s eyes never left my face, his stare pinning me to the wall with its intensity.

“Let it go, Lily,” Gus said quietly. “Let him go, and close up shop for today. Your work here is done.”





Chapter 5



I closed up shop just as Gus had ordered, taking my time as I wiped down the glassware and washed leftover dishes. Though the sun was high in the sky and the day was only half gone, my shoulders slumped in exhaustion, my mind as fried as if I’d been memorizing herbs for ten hours straight.

The light jangling sound of coins reminded me of the two visitors from today. Both had overpaid their bills significantly, and as I scrubbed the top of the wooden bar clean, guilt tugged at my insides.

Exhaling a sigh, I finished cleaning the bar, locked up, and disappeared back into the storeroom.

“What now?” I asked Gus. He sat at the table with a pair of glasses perched on his nose, studying what looked like a tiny twig on the table. “I’ve never had a day off before.”

“You talk as if I’m a slave driver,” he said without looking up.

I made an “if the shoe fits” sort of shrug, but luckily, he was too busy slicing the twig in half with a very sharp knife to notice.

“I saw that,” he said. “I can tell if you roll your eyes at me from a mile away.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes!”

“Did you make a face?” Gus looked up, his eyes magnified at least ten times behind his glasses. “You made a face.”

“Well, it’s true. I don’t usually have days off. Can I please help with whatever you’re working on? It’ll make me feel better.”

“No.”

I crossed the room and sat down on the bench opposite him. “Please?”

“It’s not my job to make you feel better,” he said. He remained tense for a moment, hiding his thoughts until finally his hands relaxed and he spoke softly. “Don’t you want to rest?”

“Don’t you want to relax?” I shot back. “The shop is closed. Why don’t you go enjoy the day?”

“I like spending my time here.” Gus didn’t look up, but he paused ever so slightly as he said the words. “I don’t have a life outside of this place.”

“I like it here too,” I said softly. “I’d be happy to help you.”

Gus let out a slow breath. At first it looked like he wanted to argue. Then he pushed the glasses up on his head and gave me a curious stare. “You want to help?”

“I need the distraction.”

“Five minutes,” Gus said. “That’s all I have left here. Believe it or not, I do have plans tonight.”

“Are you going on a date with Mimsey?” I asked in a sing-song voice. “Dinner plans?”

“You talk like that and I’ll switch up Dragon’s Breath with Foxtail when you’re not looking. Then we’ll see who’s laughing when you have hives across your forehead.”

“I’m just asking,” I said, taking the twig from Gus. “What do I do with this?”

“Slice it very thinly.”

“Is it toxic?”

Gus raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“What’s it called?”

“It’s a damn vanilla bean,” Gus said. “Nothing except flavoring.”

My cheeks colored. “Oh, okay. Never seen one like this before.”

Gus’s sigh sounded frustrated. “Well, then learn.”

We lapsed into silence. The task took much longer than five minutes. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. The time had been pleasant, and Gus had been surprisingly cordial as he explained in great detail the process of scooping out the seeds.

“Thanks,” I said once we were all done. “That helped take my mind off things.”

“You’re gonna need someone else to distract you now,” Gus said. “I ain’t yer babysitter.”

I stifled a smile as Gus’s gruffness returned. “Maybe I’ll see what my cousins are up to.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea.”