Joe snatched it from her fingers, holding it to his nose to take a deep sniff. “Blueberry? Probably tastes like dog piss.” He scowled over the top of the pastry. “Where’s my cappuccino?”
“You’ll have to ask Maya for one.” Skye nodded toward the shop. “She’s inside.”
“Huh. I’d rather stick a fork in my eye.”
“She’d probably hand you the fork,” Skye assured him, snapping shut the basket as a stiff breeze swept down the street. She didn’t mind the rain but she hated the cold. “Have a lovely day.”
Skye hurried up the street, skipping over the puddles and the bits of trash that swirled out of the gutter. The area went from charming to crumbling in the span of three blocks, but she wasn’t worried. She could deal with any human threats and most demon ones when they weren’t in the Gyre.
At last reaching the narrow strip mall, she slowed to study the buildings that were nothing more than a smear of gray in the misty rain. An improvement really. The stark, industrial cement blocks wedged together to create a laundromat, an auto parts store, an Indian takeout, and an insurance agency would never win architectural awards.
At the very end of the strip mall was a store with a wooden sign hung over the doorway: The Lunar Pathway. A shop that catered to the local mystics as well as those who wanted Clarissa to read their future.
Prying open the glass door, Skye stepped inside and shook off the clinging raindrops. At the same time, she wrinkled her nose as she was hit by a cloud of smoke from the bronze burners hung next to the window.
The incense was used as a deterrent to evil spirits, as were the numerous satchels filled with dried spices that lined the walls. There were also crystals and charms that the local witches used to connect to their earth magic. And a table with candles that filled a home with calming scents.
At the very end of the store was a glass case filled with oils and trinkets that were supposed to improve a sagging sex life.
Skye occasionally wondered if they would improve a nonexistent sex life.
Not that it mattered. Even if she wanted a man in her bed—and she was currently just fine without one, thank you very much—the various cures would have no effect on her.
This shop catered to humans, not mages. Which made sense because the owner had no idea mages existed.
“Hang on, I’ll be right out,” a voice called out from a back room.
Skye grimaced at the hopeful note in the older woman’s voice. No doubt Clarissa was scurrying to pull on the colorful shawl and silk scarf she used to cover her thinning gray hair. For years Madame Clarissa had traveled with carnivals to ply her trade as a fortune teller, but her advancing years and encroaching arthritis had made it painful to continue her life as a vagabond. She’d decided to open this shop in Linden, New Jersey, hoping that the locals would be anxious to have a glimpse into their future.
Turns out, the locals were more interested in paying their electric bill.
Which was why Skye had started dropping by with a basket to ensure the woman had a couple of good meals a week.
“It’s just me, Clarissa,” Skye said in a loud voice.
“Oh. Come on back, dear.”
Skye ignored the hint of disappointment that was combined with pleasure at her visit. Times were tough for the older woman.
Reaching the back of the narrow store, Skye pushed aside the thin sheet that covered the doorway and entered the cramped room that was technically an office, although Skye suspected Clarissa slept on the narrow couch more often than not.
In the center of the room was a round table covered with a blue silk cloth embroidered with silver stars. Clarissa was seated on a wooden chair wearing a flowing caftan that matched the tablecloth and heavy bracelets that rattled as she closed the book she’d been reading. Next to her was a crystal ball and stacks of tarot cards ready to do a reading if a customer happened to show up.
“What are you doing out in this weather?” Clarissa chided.
Skye moved forward with a smile. Clarissa was in her mid-sixties although she looked older with a round face and gray hair that she pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head. Her blue eyes, however, still sparkled and her smile held a sweet sincerity that encouraged her customers to trust her.
At a glance, she looked like a cheerful grandmother who could offer wisdom and comfort to those in need. Skye, however, could sense the weary defeat just beneath the surface. This woman had struggled her entire life to survive. Now it was an effort to make it day to day.
“I brought you a goody basket,” Skye said, placing the hamper on an empty chair next to the table.
Clarissa clicked her tongue. “You shouldn’t have. Especially not today. Look at you. You’re all wet.”
Skye shoved her fingers through her damp curls. “I like walking in the rain.”
“You would tell me you enjoy crawling through a blizzard so I wouldn’t feel guilty.”
“Why would you feel guilty?” Skye demanded, opening the basket to pull out the fresh salad and crusty loaf of bread. “I’m here because I want to be here.”