Page 101 of Sigils & Spells

A natural browsed through the health potions. She seemed completely unaware of the predator in our midst. I prayed there weren’t any other customers beyond my line of sight.

I had to get Gabriel Girard and his new friend out of here. The sooner. The better.

Struggling to remain calm, I managed a steady-voiced, “Nice to meet you.”

Franz inclined his head regally.

“Dad, what brings you to Besoins?”

“I told Franz about your antique jewelry box.”

“Oh?” I’d had the intricately carved chest since I was six. Even though mom had been sure I’d break it, the old box had survived my tender loving care. Why had my dad even mentioned it to Franz?

Fully in professor mode, Dad turned to Scarlett, who hadn’t so much as blinked. Her hair, eyelashes, and lips were the same shimmery silver as her dress and tights. Standing statue still with her attention firmly locked on Franz, she reminded me of a mannequin sidewalk performer.

“The box was enchanted by a Bavarian witch during the troubled times of Duke William the fifth’s reign. Also known as William the Pious, the Duke ruled Bavaria from 1579 to 1597.”

1597?! That couldn’t be right. I’d heard my father talk about the jewelry box countless times. In my defense, there were scads of Williams in history, and Dukes galore. I’d known the box was old, but I’d thought it was Queen Victoria old, not Queen Elizabeth the first old. I revised my opinion of my mother’s protests before refocusing on the task at hand. I had to derail my father off his lecture track or we’d be here for hours.

If he and I were at home I’d go with the time-honored tradition of yelling “DAD!” at him. It was the most effective means, though in this public setting, even with only a few witnesses, I imagined it would be viewed as impolite if not downright hostile.

“Dad. I think—”

Unperturbed by my first attempt, he verbally marched on. “He was responsible for the execution of many witches, including the woman who spelled the box. My friend, Ian, had it in his personal collection. He often had students try to unlock the box. All their spell work failed.” Dad chuckled, then winked at me.

Eye contact. Excellent. I smiled and tried again. “Dad.”

“He was flabbergasted when Marin unlocked it with her magic. You should have seen his face when we discovered the papers inside it.” A soft chuckle. “Ian wrote three books based on those pages.”

I darted a nervous glance over my shoulder at the front door. “Dad.”

“He gifted the box to Marin and credited her for the discovery of the papers in his first book.”

I would have to yell at him. I hoped shouting wouldn’t offend the vampire. Or frighten the customer.

Franz cleared his throat.

“Yes. Yes.” Dad shook his head ruefully. “Apologies. I do ramble on sometimes.”

I was torn between gratitude and irritation that, with a casual gesture, the vampire accomplished what would have taken me umpteen interruption attempts to achieve. At least I hadn’t had to embarrass myself by yelling.

“Marin, Franz would like to examine the box. He may know the spell caster’s identity. It’s quite exciting.”

He could examine it all he liked. Just not here.

“Of course. I’ll go get it.” I shot a look at Scarlett. Her face had a bluish cast to it.

She gave me an imperceptive nod and mouthed, “Hurry.”

My oblivious father resumed lecturing as I headed for the stairs. I broke into a run once I got passed the velvet curtains. Minutes later, thigh muscles burning and gasping for breath, I reentered the shop cradling the wooden box in my arms.

Franz stepped toward me. My survival instincts screeched.

“Here.” I thrust the box at Dad. “I’m sure you’ll be,” I drew in a lungful of air, “more comfortable studying it in your office.”

Franz offered another regal nod as my father took custody of the treasure. Without giving him a chance to speak, I patted Dad’s shoulder and quickstepped around him, pivoting him to face the door.

“Take all the time you need with it.” I discretely gulped in more air while escorting them out. With the vampire’s acute hearing, I probably sounded like a winded racehorse.

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