Page 14 of Raising the Sun

That level of delusion wasn’t on my to-do list.

As soon as the street was in sight, I pulled into the nearest empty parking space at the side of the road, deciding to walk the rest. There was no dawdling or grace in the way I locked the car and shoved the keys into my back pocket—the sooner this whole mess was sorted, the better for everyone involved. However, after barely a few hurried strides in the direction of the shop, I realised something was off.

It wasn’t there.

It was now a… bookshop? The red sign above the door had been replaced with a worn-down script that read, Claremont Tomes & Tales—a place I’d never seen or heard of as it definitely hadn’t been there before. I looked further down the street, making sure I hadn’t taken a wrong turn, but the same charity shop and newsagent still stood at either side, and the same missing-cat poster—albeit with a heart-warming ‘Found’ and a thank you note sharpied across it—was tacked to the lamp post at the edge of the pavement.

I narrowed my eyes as my mind raced through several possibilities, each more ridiculous than the last, but there had to be a rational explanation. I refused to further entertain the supernatural, not when I had plenty of that to contend with back at my flat—half-naked and making breakfast. So, much like before, I pretended it was a figment of my imagination and went inside.

It was oddly comforting to be greeted by the walls of books I remembered, but gone were the high shelves and ladders that had given me vertigo, replaced with average-height bookcases and shorter stepping stools. There were no narrow aisles filled with witchy supplies, oranythingreally. It was a small, square shop—the size I had expected on my first visit—selling dusty old books, nothing else.

Where had it all gone?

“Good morning! Are you looking for something in particular?” The kind voice startled me from my exploration,and I spun around to see a young woman, barely twenty, wearing round glasses and a pair of paint-covered dungarees. She was standing behind the only counter in the place, grinning widely in welcome.

She hadn’t been here yesterday, but at this point, I had no choice other than conceding thatnoneof this was the same as yesterday. Despite how much I wanted it to be the case, this wasn’t a rushed paint job or a pop-up shop situation. It was magic, plain and simple, and I didn’t yet know how to process that information.

Or if I ever really would.

With a sigh, I trudged forwards, already knowing my trip was pointless, but still clinging to whatever remained of my sanity. “Yeah, good morning. I was here yesterday, and I spoke to the tall guy with the hat…” I waved a hand above my head, ignoring the girl’s confused frown. “Is he working today? I really need to speak to him.”

“I’m the only person who works the till,” she said with an apologetic smile. “My mum is usually on the shop floor, but she’s in the back room today.”

“There’s no one else?” I was desperate, and probably sounded crazy when I added, “He looked like a kids’ party magician.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say I know anyone like that.” Poor lass probably thought I’d suffered a blow to the head and was now wandering around, lost and confused. Least she was nice about it. “Did you catch their name, lovey?”

I shook my head, dejection settling into my bones. “No.”

“Are you sure it was here?” she asked when I offered no other information. “Tony, the guy in the butcher’s a few doors down, is pretty tall and he wears a hair net?”

I leaned on the counter, breathing out an exasperated, almost silent, “It was a top hat.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” It wasn’t worth repeating, none of it was, and though I hated admitting defeat, there was no denying that all I’d done was waste time and petrol. The guy had quite literally saddled me with a demon, then fucked off with zero trace.

He couldn’t have made his no returns policy any clearer.

I straightened and took a step back, faking a smile. “I must have gotten my shops mixed up. Silly me. Thanks, anyway.” I turned to leave, but before reaching the door, that soft, friendly voice called after me.

“You’re sure there’s nothing else I can help you with?”

“No, no, you’re fine,” I assured her, the bell above the door jingling as I tugged it open. Better to get out of there before she called the police to have me committed. “Have a nice day.”

All the breath in my lungs left me on a slow exhale as I stepped outside.What the fuck am I meant to do now?

Coming here had already blown a valuable hour that could have been spent working. Technically, it was my day off, but what good was one of those when I was stuck up shit creek without a paddle and falling so fast towards debt one had to wonder how I still stood upright? Absolutely none, was theanswer to that, but demon summoning had put a hold on productivity, funnily enough, and my routine had to suffer.

I headed back to my car, my forehead connecting with the steering wheel as soon as I flopped my arse inside. Had I honestly thought it would be as simple as returning a shirt that was too small? Just nip back into the shop and come out one hell-born being lighter, no sweat.

Idiot.Of course it was going to be a pain in the hole—it wouldn’t be a consequence of my actions otherwise. But now I was out of ideas and no further forwards.

Even the demon hadn’t offered anything more of use. Not that I’d asked, but he’d seemed happy as Larry dancing around my kitchen as if he wasn’t literally shackled to a failing florist in the arsehole of Scotland. I thought I had made it perfectly clear that finding a more user-friendly exit clause was my goal, but he hadn’t expressed any interest in a way out. Which was no help at all. In fact, it made it worse. He was powerful, I’d seen it with my own eyes, and though he’d said sticking around until my wishes were met or I died were the only options, therehad to besome loophole or counter spell.

Deals with devils were tricky, right? They were never black and white, more a shade of morally grey. But since the bastard obviously had no desire to leave, he also had no desire to help me work it out.

Icouldhave begged, but something told me he would enjoy it and I didn’t feel particularly charitable or willing to let go of the last sliver of pride I had. No, any path that involved demonintervention would prove even more hopeless than going back to the magic man had turned out to be.

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