Spell Fire (16 page)

I glanced toward the unisex bathroom at the back of the store and slid my palms against each other in long, up-and-down strokes. My cheeks heated as I remembered the dwindling stash of soap under the sink. I needed to buy more before anyone found out. Embarrassment joined the whirl of anxiety. They swirled over the shiny gold logo on my ballet flats and encircled my ankles. I squeezed my eyes shut, warding off the sudden memories from my medical lockdown —
Suicide Watch
inked on my chart, the cell-like room, counting the ceiling tiles so I wouldn't have to think about group therapy.
Twenty
-
one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…

Warm air whooshed behind me. I stepped aside and a trio of teenage girls swung into the store. Giggling, they sashayed over to the rectangular register area, trapping Jett.

One cooed, "Hi, Jett!"

I figured she knew him from school.

Another, her tone snarky, asked, "How's it going, Emo Boy?"

I cringed. Was he mocked or harassed at school over the fire fortunes? What would happen if we cancelled the event? Would bullies descend upon him? His public school was probably far different from tiny Athenian Academy, where people like Rayne were embraced and the whole school had to attend weekly "town meetings" to work out issues.

Crap. Why didn't I think this through?

Jett threw me a furtive glance from beneath his bangs. The girls twirled two of the Plexiglas jewelry displays on the glass counter. They wore short shorts and authentic tans, in December for goodness' sake. One by one they flipped back their long manes and held up crystal earrings to their ears. Their attention flicked from Jett to their reflections in the counter mirrors, then back to Jett. I crossed my pale northern California arms across my torso. The sun would set in an hour and the temperature would plummet.
Short shorts? Seriously?

Jett glanced my way again. A blush flared across his pale cheeks. I debated whether he needed or wanted rescuing. Jazmin would have taken her boyfriend's drumstick and thunked the snarky girl upside the head.

"How much are these earrings?" the third girl asked.

Jett shifted his attention. "The price should be on the back." He crossed the register area to check.

More customers wandered in. Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun were in the back, crunching numbers. Rather than disturb them, I stowed my backpack behind the register and worked the sales floor. After one girl bought earrings and another a ring, the trio left.

Aunt Terra had trained me on the register, but I didn't want to invade Jett's space. I didn't want to feel the sting of his misery. Lucia had emailed the letters, not me, but the event had been my idea. So I worked customers as if they were beads on a rosary. If I sent enough of them to Jett to have their purchases rung up, then maybe my guilt would ease. Not being Catholic, I wasn't sure if I had the concept right.

To keep my mind occupied, I analyzed the walk-ins and sorted them into categories. Teens. Military personnel. Middle-aged women. Hikers and rock climbers. When there were no customers, I cruised the store and studied the merchandise. A spreadsheet began to form in my head. I snagged some scratch paper from the register area and strode to the front. With my back to the glass door, I surveyed the store, keeping my gaze low so the mural wouldn't get me.

"What are you doing?" Jett asked.

"A market and store analysis." I drew a rough sketch of the existing merchandise layout on scratch paper and labeled target areas. "We need to boost sales. Who is scheduled to work this Saturday?"

"Everyone. Hopefully we'll get Christmas shoppers. I'm on from ten until five. Lucia is scheduled one until nine. Morningstar said she'd help us after four if we need her. Why?"

"I'm not sure yet." I hated to disturb Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun, but I couldn't rearrange the store without their permission. Before I lost my nerve, I headed to the back to seek them out. The door to the meeting room was half-open. I poked my head in and glimpsed Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun in the small office, shoulder-to-shoulder. Neither noticed when I approached.

"Looks like we're out of options," Aunt Terra said to Uncle Esmun.

A sinking feeling twisted my insides. I knocked on the doorpost.

Uncle Esmun glanced up from the financial spreadsheet he had been studying on the computer. "Hey." He mustered a smile. "Your aura be swirling like the aurora borealis." He punched the minimize icon on the computer, but not before I glimpsed the bottom line. It appeared they were barely getting by.

"Cool. I mean, about the aurora borealis. Good news. We've had a pretty steady flow of customers."

They exchanged glances. "Great," Aunt Terra said.

I glanced down at my scribbling. "I did an analysis of the walk-ins." I handed them my notes. "You know, to get a better idea of who our customers are. I'm sure you've already done this, but I wanted to get it straight in my head."

They studied the paper, but didn't say anything. I pressed on to fill the silence. "I thought we could target specific customer groups with demonstration stations."

"Demonstration stations?" Aunt Terra said.

I carried over a folding chair from the glass table and sat down, knees together, back straight. "Think of it as a Psychic Sampler day without the psychics."

"How would it work?" Aunt Terra asked.

"Marketing. We play up the handcrafted, made in America, organic if applicable, items you sell. We set up theme tables. For example, we have a huge military compound up the street. For their table, protection candles and amulets. One of you could man the table and make custom-ordered amulets. You could do a brief candle magic demonstration using items we sell."

"I like it," Uncle Esmun said.

I handed them the map I had sketched of the store. Their heads bent together as they studied it. "We could stage a little theater in one corner and stock it with sample wands and fairy dust."

"Thor would be good there," Uncle Esmun said. "Kids love him."

Aunt Terra shook her head. "These are great ideas, Ainslie, but we can't afford to pull Jett or Lucia off the sales floor to rearrange the store. I'm afraid it's too late."

"It's not even the solstice yet. I can set up the tables. If we get a lull, then Jett and Lucia can help."

"We can't ask you to do this," Aunt Terra said. "You have finals to study for."

"I can study at night when we get home. Please. I need to help. And I promise to put everything back the way you had it whenever you wish."

"We appreciate the thought, but—"

Uncle Esmun clasped Aunt Terra's hand. "But we are out of time. We can't have the store in flux during a holiday weekend. And tonight we have to drop you off at home, then come back here for the drumming circle."

"Perfect! Instead of going to the condo, I'll stay and work on the store while you drum. Think of all the time and gas you'll save. And dinner is on me. Mom and Dad gave me money to take you out." They exchanged a sideways glance. I pressed my hands together in prayer position.
"Please."

Aunt Terra frowned. "There's no time to promote this."

"We'll paper the town with flyers and put it up on the website and social media."

"I don't think we can turn things around at this late date." Aunt Terra swiveled to face her husband.

Uncle Esmun made a clicking sound out of the side of his mouth. "I say we throw everything we have at it. If we must go out, then let's go out in a blaze of glory."

"Yes!" I rose from the chair.

"Lucia has the night shift. Will you be comfortable working alone with her?" Aunt Terra asked.

After dark…um…no.
I mustered my best game face. "Sure. No problem! Besides, I'm sure we'll have plenty of customers to keep her busy. Nothing will go wrong."

They exchanged a worried look. The anxiety whirlpool corseted my chest. Unable to draw a full breath, I escaped before my aunt and uncle changed their minds.

Chapter Eighteen

From the mystery school, drumming — low and insistent — rampaged down the hall, wove through the bookcases at the back of the store, and lost volume as it reached my newly created Wicca display table. The beat reverberated low in my core. A picture flashed in my mind of a twilight bonfire in the desert.

I couldn't be sure what it brought up for Lucia. She jogged in place beside me and shook her hands in the air as if dispelling excess energy. The music — or whatever demons she had eaten today — had made her super-strong and restless.

"What's next?" Lucia asked.

"What time is it?" I flattened my hands on top of the table.

Lucia checked her watch. "Eight-thirty. Half-hour until closing."

The drumming circle should end soon, too.
I glanced around the store. The last customer had left about twenty minutes ago and had promised to spread the word about Saturday's demonstration stations. "I think we're good. Everything is set up except the kid's castle. Thank you so much for your help."

Lucia snapped her gum, releasing the usual sharp minty scent. "No problem."

The door swung open, and the moon-and-wolf wind chime over the register clanged. Cool night air scurried in like crabs scrabbling across the sand. A woman, pushing maybe twenty-seven, sauntered in. Lucia's eyes became twin glowing embers. "Ayelett!" She strode to the woman like a vampire to blood.

I stepped back and forced my mouth to close so I wouldn't gape. The newcomer flicked an appraising glance my way before her eyes — arrestingly outlined in black and sapphire — dismissed me. She held her arms out and clasped Lucia's hands. "Darling."

Where Lucia, compact and contained, appeared battle-ready, Ayelett seemed outfitted for something quite…different. Her ankle-length, toga-like dress barely contained her abundant curves. The neckline plunged to her waist, cut off by a belt buckle depicting a snarl of skeletons. The long, platinum hair cascading over her breasts had obviously been bleached and straightened. The ends needed trimming.

Ayelett whispered something in Lucia's ear. Lucia nodded then whispered back. I straightened two wands and a tabletop case containing ritual knives.

"Hey. Ainslie!" Lucia sounded like a school bully calling out someone for a smackdown.

The drumming quickened. Noting the scarlet glow in Lucia's eyes, I narrowed mine, slid open the case, and palmed a knife. "Yes?"

Lucia's eyebrows ticked up as I widened my stance and ran my thumb over the athame's dull blade. The red glow deadened a little in Lucia's eyes, and she softened her voice. "Do you mind closing up? I need to rent one of the session rooms for a while."

"Won't the drumming bother you?"

"No. It's a good cover." Gum snap. Lucia and Ayelett exchanged an up-to-no-good look.

A bottle rocket of worry launched inside my brain. But Terra and Esmun needed the rental money, so I said, "Sure. I'll close up."

"Thanks." Gum snap. Mint cloud.

"Thank you, sweetling," Ayelett said as she sauntered past me like a slow-moving Mardi Gras float. I stepped aside, but not quickly enough to avoid the wake of bad vibes trailing her. Something pinged against me. A sudden chill and heebie-jeebies shuddered through me.

As soon as Lucia and Ayelett disappeared into the rear hallway, I placed the athame back in the case and rushed to the shelves where we displayed the liquid sage. Purification and Protection. I reached for the tester, but couldn't force myself to grab it.
Who knew how many people had touched it?

My hand snaked behind the tester and scored an unopened bottle. Mounting anxiety zigzagged up and down my body. Tearing at the plastic shrink-wrap, I rushed to the register.
Ayelett brought in something bad. It's got me. I'm going to die.
My skin crawled. The drumbeats in the back grew faster, more insistent. Ayelett's dark entities scuttled like black widows across my arms.

"Come on!" Hysteria welled within me. The plastic yielded. I tore off the shield, popped the cap, and then doused myself.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Four…
The tang of sage sharpened the air. My breathing calmed. A quick glance at the computer next to the register showed I still had a few minutes until closing. I pulled out my handbag and paid for the sage. My hands trembled as I stashed my wallet and purse back under the counter.

Something reassuring and inhumanly tall nudged my back. I glanced at the mural, then averted my gaze. The drums receded. Massive wings tugged my shoulder blades. My spine elongated. Courage tingled my veins.
Time to take control. No way will I let Ayelett's demons possess Spiral Journeys.

A quick check of the street revealed no approaching customers. Emboldened, I spritzed the front door handle from the outside, then sprayed the inside before I locked it. The dragon pressed against me. Its fiery energy lifted my hand to the light switch and cut the power to most of the overhead lights. Menacing shadows wobbled to life in the corners of the store and glared at me. My courage threatened to flee to the nearest display table and hide beneath its purple velvet drape.

The dragon melded into me. Warmth blossomed in my solar plexus and spread upward. My chest grew toasty. My throat heated, then my face. I felt myself glow from within. My eyes watered. I squeezed them shut and hot tears trickled down my cheeks. When I opened my eyes, my visual organs seemed to have retreated within my skull. I had the odd sensation of looking through a scaly mask. My chin grew heavy and tilted toward the floor, lowering my peculiar gaze. Putrid black vapors swirled above the carpet, curling in Ayelett's wake.

No. No. No.
Anxiety missiles launched inside my brain and my OCD charged into overdrive. I sprayed sage as quickly as my finger could depress the squirt pump. As each spurt rained down, the snaking vapors sizzled and vanished.

I hounded the trail of dark energy to the door of the first session room. Amber and scarlet rays angled through the crack between the door and the doorframe. A few feet down the hall, the drumming dropped to a reverent whisper.