Page 50 of Stalked

CHAPTER 15

AS I LAYin bed that night, I thought about what to do next. I didn’t trust Caleb enough to know if he was truthful. He had been hiding too many things from me, and as attracted as I was to him?—or how he made me feel when he was tender and showing like he genuinely cared?—I wasn’t going to kiss him again to see into my past.

It wasn’t worth the horror I saw in those visions, nor my dignity to give myself to someone who wasn’t treating me with respect or as an equal.

I did some research online about paganism and witchcraft, and a witch shop in Providence popped up on the top search results. It wasn’t exactly where I thought I’d have to go to receive my answers, but I didn’t know what else to do.

“What am I doing?”I said under my breath as I parked in front of Patricia’s Witch Shop, then hopped out of the car. I looked at the front of the shop, noting the oddities in the windows and its quaint aesthetic. Taking a deep breath, I gripped the door handle and swung the door inward. A light chime echoed through the store from the bells dangling on the doorframe. It was dimly lit inside, and there was a faint smell of incense hanging in the air.

“Good morning, darling. Welcome,” an older woman said as I entered.

She wore a long blue dress, and her gray hair was wrapped loosely into a yellow silk scarf. Her wrinkled skin was light brown, with tiny freckles along her nose.

“I’m Patricia?.” The woman sized me up. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” she added. “Come on in.”

Seriously, what am I doing?

Hundreds of books lined the glass shelves that stretched toward the back of the shop. I ambled along the side wall and scanned over them. Most of the books were novels about witches and the supernatural, but a few were books about the history of witchcraft. Patricia stalked around me and picked up a crystal globe on a shelf next to the entrance. She smiled and walked to the back, disappearing behind a beaded curtain. A few minutes must have passed before I realized how long I had been reading the book titles.

“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” she asked from behind me, pulling my gaze away from the shelves.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” I confessed. I giggled softly to myself, turning my attention back to the books. “I don’t even know if you have what I need.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she tilted her head and slowly closed her eyes, took a breath in, and opened them back up. There was an unusual light in her eyes now.

“If I could get a reading on you, I’d say you’re seeking answers as to who you truly are, but you’re afraid of what you’ll find,” she asked. “Am I right?”

When I glanced back at her, I saw she was still holding the globe.

“Are you a psychic?” I asked.

Patricia nodded. “I can do an official reading for you? … if you’d like. I’m just setting up my table for a client, but they won’t be here for another fifteen minutes, so I have time.”

I shook my head. “I appreciate you offering that, but I’m okay,” I responded, eyeing the bookshelf again. “What about spell books? Are these books authentic?”

The peculiar woman walked past me and placed her hand on the shelf, closing her eyes again and gliding her fingers across each book until she stopped.

“This one is from 1725. I found it during my travels in Europe a few years ago. It’s not for everyone who comes through that door, though. I can’t sell this to you unless I do a reading.”

I looked at her quizzically. “You really want to do a reading on me, huh?”

She smiled and pulled the book from the shelf. The lady’s old eyes turned to stare at me, and without another word?, she walked to the backroom again.

Okay. That was bizarre.

I looked again at the books on the shelf, but nothing stood out. I turned back around, browsing through the shop. Over in the corner were a couple more shelves with herbs and stones, like what I’ve seen Lily decorate her home with.

If Lily could see me now…

I spotted a few stacks of herbs tied off and picked up three of them and four jet stones. These probably had no powers like the one on my necklace, but it didn’t hurt to have a few extra on me. I placed them on the counter by the register and rang the bell. She didn’t come. I rang it again, but only heard Patricia clearing her throat from the back.

I guess I’m doing this.

The beaded curtain rattled as I made my way through it. I instantly drew my attention to the small round table in the middle of the room. A deep red cloth covered the table, and the globe sat innocently in the center on a bronze pedestal. My eyes hurt from trying to make sense of the eccentric decoration of the walls, so I focused on the woman sitting at the table.

Her eyes were closed, her petite left hand resting on the book she had taken from the shelf. I shifted uncomfortably in her presence. Even before discovering I was a witch, I’d always been very skeptical of the profession. My unease stemmed from being thrown into the supernatural world. I believed it was better to be cautious of so-called psychics.

“You want me to sit right there?” I gestured to the chair across from her. She didn’t answer, so I sat down anyway. Right then, she opened her eyes, which were now as white as winter’s snow. My jaw dropped.

“I dreamed about you last night,” she started. “I knew you’d be coming here today.”

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