Page 17 of Prodigal Son

“There has to be a way—”

“I’m careful with my words, Jonas. I did not call you immortal, because mortality has you. Whatever that woman gave you, it was not enough.”

“You must help me.”

“I can’t. The Great Goddess has already decided your fate.”

“I reject such a fate,” he snapped and the candles flickered.

A cool chill stole through the air. Her aunt was taking this too far. This guy was obviously unstable. It was all fun and games until the customers got nasty.

“Careful,” Mabel warned. “My niece is just outside that door and she’s holding a charged blade.

Juniper looked down at her hand, surprised to find she was in fact gripping one of the athames from the wall, yet she had no recollection of grabbing it.

“My God would not forsake me this way. I’m an honorable male.”

“Your Judeo-Christian ego is overreaching again. Your mythology was written by man, recorded in a book that has been weaponized against your kind and used to label your species as demons. It’s a story told by man, written by man, embellished by man, and swallowed by man. It’s all myth, a tale that has stayed alive long past its characters or creators, a mere legend with no tangible substance anymore.”

“The men mentioned in the Bible were not immortal.”

“Neither are you.”

Energy sizzled from her aunt’s aura as she no longer disguised her dislike for his kind. Regardless of their play-acting, there was something personal passing between them, something Juniper couldn’t fathom.

“I kept my word and listened to your story, Jonas, but now it’s time for you to leave.”

“You must help me.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“What you desire from me goes against The Goddess’s plans. Surrender your soul to The Summerland and be reborn. Use the time you have left to be with your loved ones. That’s the only option you have left to save your soul.”

The chair screeched against the tile floor as he stood in a rush. Juniper’s back pressed into the wall as he flung back the beaded curtain and left the store. Her eyes went to Aunt Bel’s as she looked down and blew out a shaky breath, all bravado gone.

Juniper entered the back room, her nose twitching at the scent of rot she’d missed before. “Um, what the hell was that?”

With shaky hands, Mabel pressed a bundle of sage into the flame of a candle and softly whispered her intention. “Lock the door and flip the sign.” When Juniper hesitated, Mabel snapped, “Now.”

She did as instructed, startled by her aunt’s nervous energy. She never saw her so frazzled. “Did you know that guy?”

“No.” Mabel waved the bundle of sage, extinguishing the flame. Setting the smoking herbs inside the marble mortar, she selected a black feather from the jar and wafted the smoke in the direction of the abandoned chair, cleansing the air. Fanning the smoke, she directed it around the table, purifying the space and back door. “He’s born of the devil.”

Juniper paused. “Excuse me?”

“He was exactly as he smelled—vampire.”

She choked on a laugh. “You’re joking.”

Mabel cleansed the air where Jonas had been. “We never joke about such things. Find me the Florida Water.”

“Holy fuck, are you serious?” Juniper rushed through the beaded curtain and plastered herself to the front window.

“Juniper, get away from the window! He hasn’t gone far.”

Distracted by curiosity, Juniper retrieved the herbal cologne from the shelf and spritzed the doorway. “Does he really drink blood?”

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