Page 2 of Taming the Wicked Wolf

He reaches behind the counter, setting a plastic display placard with three different QR codes, including one for crypto currency.

“You take bitcoins?”

“I sell rare first editions, books much more expensive than,” he flails a hand in the book’s direction, “that.”

Part of me wants to tell him the book's true potential, namely the fact that it contains a collection of real magical spells, including several rituals that can summon a demon.

I hold up my phone and scan the code, then notice the familiar bright red spine of a Harlequin Romance, and not just one, but a whole cardboard box stacked to the brim. There was a time in my life when I would go to the store and pick up a few titles a month. Now, it’s been hell to find them outside of second-hand bookstores or in ebook form.

“How much for the romance novels?” I ask with a nod.

Martin glances over his shoulder, “Oh,those, I’ll throw them in for free.”

I can’t help but smile to myself as I complete the payment, he might have screwed me over with the book, but those Harlequins alone are worth at least a hundred if not more. Though for me, they’re priceless.

He grabs the box, placing Shades of the Occult on top and slides it across the counter.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you. I hope to see you again.”

Of course, you do.

“Thanks.” I say, slipping into the saccharine sweet tone I use at the bar, then hefting the box into my arms and turning to roll my eyes.

With traffic, it’s a good hour and a half back to my small apartment in Moonstone Ridge. Just another perk of being stuck in a town that doesn’t even have a Target, it takes a good twentyminutes to reach anything that doesn’t look like it belongs on the set of a Hallmark movie.

The town itself is beautiful, filled with old brick and mortar buildings straight out of the 1950s, with the classic windowed displays. Everything is here, including the idyllic Mom and Pop grocery store.

I would actually love living in Moonstone Ridge, if I hadn’t been labeled an outcast after what happened between me and Chase, but that’s what you get for divorcing the beloved sheriff’s only son.

My heart races as I turn into my parking spot, the familiar pang of anxiety rippling up my arms and settling heavily on my shoulders. I hate that it’s come to this, I can’t even return home without feeling this deep sense of dread.

The lot is still full, which is a comfort, in my despair, it makes me feel a little less isolated.

I climb out of the car, bracing the cardboard box against my hip as I dig my keys out of my purse. It takes the short distance from the car to my door for my panic to wane.

My pit bull, Poppy, whines on the other side of the door. The sound of her claws tip tapping on the linoleum floor a comfort as I let myself into my apartment. I got her from the local animal shelter a few days after moving in, she’s a great companion, even though she didn’t stop Chase from breaking in the first time.

Though this time it’s all clear. No spontaneous love letters. No bouquets of roses waiting for me on my dining room table. No need for me to call the front office and ask for them to change the locks. Again.

“You did good, kid.” I say, reaching down and scrubbing my hand over Poppy’s muzzle as she rams her head into my lower thigh.

She growls out her appreciation and disappears into the kitchen, returning with her stuffed toy, squeaking out a staccatomelody as I walk across the room to set the books on the coffee table.

Chase will never let me go. He ignored the divorce papers, forcing the judge’s hand in the matter. He still tells me he’s going to ‘win me back, one way or another’.

I’m not going to wait for him to surprise me again.

I am summoning this demon tonight.

TWO

Emilia

Okay,so maybe I’m procrastinating a bit.

It’s already close to 6 p.m. when I finally make my way into the kitchen, pulling out a TV dinner and tossing it into the microwave to cook. Poppy dances around my legs, nudging against my knees hard enough I have to catch myself against the countertop.

“Hold on there, girly.” I laugh, washing my hands as the microwave beeps behind me.

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