Page 65 of Changeling
The shop might be small, but the owner’s presence is formidable. I sense her before I see her. A woman appears from around one of the shelves. Chestnut curls frame a stunning, oval face. Almond-shaped eyes with intense golden-brown orbs watch us with increasing menace. I take a step back and bump into Laurence’s chest, and he steadies me.
Remy is laughing.
The woman—her green velvet gown swishing around her ankles as she approaches—furrows her perfectly formed brows and sneers.
At first, I think the expression is for me, and I’m frightened, but Remy grabs my elbow and tugs me out of her warpath. My fear was unneeded; her fury is aimed solely at Laurence.
“Liv, go easy on him, or he’ll have no reason to come back.” Another woman, her voice teasing, hurries to us from farther within the shop—petite, with nut-brown hair and eyes to match. A smile spreads wide across her face, which works wonders to settle my nerves.
“Liv!” greets Laurence warmly, his arms open for a hug.
The force of nature that is Liv ignores the offer of an embrace and sets her hands firmly on her hips. “It’s about damned time. You take the lead at The Dozen, and then what happens? We become strangers? I’ll not have it, Laurence. They’re taking advantage of your work ethic, and you know it. Surely you deserve the solstices off to visit your family. You’ll tell them I insist next time, won’t you? Or there’ll be no more invitations. I’ll come and collect Remy myself, and we’ll leave you out of the fun. You hear?”
Well. I suppose whatever that thing Remy likes involving Laurence’s tongue is now solidly on the table. He laughs at my side.
Liv is positively overwhelming. Power radiates from her in waves, emanating a certain feel of ancient mystery too big for me to properly take in.
But the four of them seem calm enough, and Laurence has taken the verbal lashing in stride. “My dearest Livia”—he gives a hint of a shrug—“you must accept my apologies. I’m still getting used to the new responsibilities. I wanted to visit, truly I did, and next time—”
“Next time, you’ll arrive early with your handsome beau on one arm and gifts in the other, yes?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Laurence leans in and dares to kiss Liv on the cheek.
She turns her face for a proper kiss and finally steps into his arms. “It’s good to see you, darling.”
I take a breath of relief and move out of the way as the other woman approaches Remy.
“So good to see you, Clara,” says Remy.
“It’s been too long.” They share a hug. Then all four of them switch. Hugs all around.
I’m starting to feel silly by the time they turn their gazes on me. Laurence handles the introductions, and both women greet me with embraces as if we’re already friends, which is nice, but on the other hand makes me feel even more isolated. All four of them are vampires, with glowing eyes, fanged teeth, and if they live long enough—as Liv might have done already, I can’t be sure, and it’s probably rude to ask—a need for my blood to stay sane. That little detail stays lodged in my brain, a pesky little nugget I can’t seem to get rid of.
The shop has an underground apartment, because of course it has, where we’ll stay the day. But it’s the books I’m after, so when they retire below, I stay above—with Clara’s permission—and peruse her collection.
After some hours—I don’t know how many because I’m entranced with numerous volumes I’ve found on the shelves—Clara’s voice startles me to alertness.
“Have you found what you’re looking for, Sebastian?” Her kind expression reassures me, and her ink-stained fingers make me wonder if she’s an author herself.
“I’ve found many interesting selections, yes, but not exactly what I’m looking for.”
She comes closer. “What do you seek? Perhaps I can assist.”
“I would love that, thank you.”
I explain to her what little I know of incubi, faeries, and curses. Though it’s intimidating to state my goal aloud, I tell her that too. I could use all the help I can get.
“I wish I’d asked you sooner. None of that will be up here on the public shelves, but I can lead you below, and we can look through my private collection together.”
“You have more books below?” A pang of excitement rattles my chest.
“Indeed. And anything containing serious spellwork like what you’re looking for isn’t available to the public anyway. Come.” She offers her hand. It’s cool in mine, like the grave, but her voice remains warm as she speaks. “A book has sprung to mind already, but I’m afraid it’s more about casting curses than undoing them. We shall see. Perhaps it will prove helpful after all.”
“Thank you.” We’re strolling to the back of the shop when knocking from the front stops us in our tracks.
Tension spreads through my body. It must be three, maybe four in the morning. Who in the world would arrive at such an hour? Oh right. Vampires.
“It’s probably fine,” says Clara, but she’s tense too. “I’ll get Liv. We’re a known safe spot for messengers. It could be one of them needing a place to sleep for the day.”
