Page 12 of Greer's Change

Granny Rollins’s house and hat are rubbing off on me. I’m going to be a little old lady vampire before I know it.

If I live long enough.

Spellbound comes into view, and I let out an excited squeal. It appears that most Black Cove residents like to walk, so I have no trouble sliding into a parallel parking spot a little ways down.

There are no cars around to which I would have to do the parallel part of parallel parking, and I silently thank the sweet baby Jesus for that fact.

I’ve got limited skills, and parallel parking isn’t one of them.

Tossing open my door, I grab my bag and climb out of my car. The wind in Black Cove has it out for me. Granny’s hat flies right off my head and skids down the pavement.

Slapping myself in the face with my purse, I try to pat down my cascading waves.

Granny’s ugly hat continues on in the breeze. It really shouldn’t have that much momentum. It was heavy as hell on my head.

I need that hat, so I can hide my ears and hair color. I have no choice but to chase it down the sidewalk, muttering the entire way like a lunatic.

My eyes widen as someone steps out from the edge of the building about twenty feet down. He moves quickly, and hisbooted foot stops the hat. His lithe body curls toward the ground until a tattooed hand can pluck Granny’s hat from the sidewalk.

I stop dead in my tracks.

Holy shit.

It’s the smoking-hot dark fae who saved me from face-planting in the club. The one who recommended the fae spring wine. Not the human I almost drained, but the tall, rune-covered guy that I stumbled into when I first walked into the club.

Well, he definitely picked up on my fae lineage. My face gets hot as I do an about-face and stomp toward the store.

This cannot be happening.

I need to stay under the radar. He missed the fact that I’m newly turned once, but there’s no guarantee he won’t catch it this time.

“You’ve forgotten your hat,” the man calls out in his crisp accent.

Grabbing the door handle, I give it a solid tug and slip inside as my heart races.

An old woman with long white hair and a cane comes out of the back room. Her eyes widen, and her lips push together when she spots me clutching my chest.

“Well, you look like hell,” she says in a thick country accent that reminds me of Granny Rollins. “Are we running from something dangerous? These old legs aren’t what they used to be.”

“A guy,” I admit, tossing my thumb toward the door behind me. “He, um, caught my hat.”

Her brow dips down, forcing her wrinkles into a strange pattern. “That must be a euphemism. Come along, scurry into the back room if you need to hide.”

Spinning around, I peek out the window, but the man is gone. I turn back to the old woman and admit, “He appears to have left. I may have overreacted.”

“Have a seat at the table.” The woman gestures toward the back corner of the store. “I’ll put a pot of tea on and meet you there.”

“What’s your name, dear?” The old witch drops a teacup in front of me and places one down for herself before shuffling around the table.

“Greer.” I smile, holding out a hand. It takes only a second for my arm to wobble.

What the hell am I thinking?

Dammit.She’ll be able to feel how cold my skin is, but it’s too late to yank it down without coming off as rude.

“Lisette.” She extends a hand, giving mine a firm shake. “You came in tonight for a reason, would you like a reading?” Her aged hand levitates over the tarot deck and they fly into her palm.

“Erm…” Well, shit. I don’t want to be rude, but since quitting my job, I’m on a serious budget. “So, I’m here because someone killed me, then turned me, but I can’t talk about it! Oh shit, I can’t believe I was even able to say that. Do you think it’s because I didn’t try to give you any distinguishing information? He was my—” Excruciating pain radiates in my skull, and my hands fly to cradle the ache.

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