The Shoppe of Spells (The Gatekeeper Series)

by Grey, Shanon

  “Just come over for breakfast. Or, whenever you get up.”

  “Give Dad my love. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  As she hung up, Morgan realized her spirits had risen. She had enjoyed her time here, and, yes, she knew she would return, but going back to the happiness she felt in the arms of her family was the balm she needed.

  Her family. Morgan looked around the room. The room of her birth parents. Strangers. She had no concept of their capacity for love. Dorian had obviously loved them and they, him. She wondered how they would have felt about her. She didn’t know and didn’t care. Morgan appreciated the fact that she had grown up the way she wanted to grow up. Sure, this was to become her life, but it wasn’t who she was. Her essence. The Briscoes, with their love and kindness, trust and understanding, had imbued her with that.

  She’d finished packing, had reservations for a flight and a cab on the way, when she heard Dorian on the stairs. The door to her room was cracked, so, when he knocked, the door slipped open. He stepped in and glanced from the suitcase to her.

  Her fingers trembled. Trying not to show her raw emotions, she pulled a band off her wrist and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her eyes refused to meet his, but in a surprisingly calm voice she asked, “Did she get all the information she needed?”

  “Yes.” His voice was low as he stepped toward her. “Going somewhere?”

  Then she looked at him. She let him see the doubt in her eyes. “Yes, Dorian. I’m going home to see my parents.”

  “But—”

  With fingers to his lips, she silenced him. “I want to see them. No…I need to see them. I miss them more than you could know.” She turned away at the pain she saw in his expression, as he looked around the room.

  “I’m sorry, Dorian. I know you miss Mel and Thom desperately. We’ve had a tumultuous start, to say the least. I know I have to come back. I just need a break. So do you.”

  “I was angry,” he whispered. “I didn’t think.”

  “No, you didn’t. And, you hurt me deeply. Now, I need time to think.”

  They both heard the knock on the front door and turned.

  “That’s my cab,” she said and started to lift her suitcase. He took it out of her hands. They went down the stairs in silence. Meesha sat in the kitchen whining. At first, Morgan thought of the creature, then saw the thumb of the tail and stepped into the kitchen while Dorian took her bag to the cab. She picked up her phone, as she’d left it, on the table.

  “That’s a good girl.” She smoothed the soft fur, her voice thick. “I’m going to miss you. I’ll be back.” Meesha gave a soft woof in response and licked her hand.

  As she climbed into the cab, she looked up at Dorian. “Just to ease your mind, in case you’re wondering, I won’t be contacting Rob.” She pulled the door closed and faced forward, not giving him a chance to respond. She was halfway to the airport before she let the tears fall.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dorian was still slamming around the shop, shocking himself from pent-up energy when Teresa knocked on the front door. He flung it open.

  “Geesh, news travels fast,” he hissed.

  “Small towns, gotta love ‘em.” She marched past him and into the kitchen, setting a box on the counter. “Dinner. I figured you wouldn’t do it yourself, so…” she poured herself some coffee, sniffed it, poured it in the sink and turned on the faucet.

  “Look, Teresa. I appreciate what you’re trying to do—”

  She turned around to him and held up her hand. “Don’t you even,” she began and stopped, fire in her eyes. “I’ll fix the coffee, we’ll sit down, you’ll eat, and we’ll talk.”

  He shrugged and went to sit at the table. Hell, she’d been bossing him around since he could remember and was the closest thing to an aunt that he’d ever had. But, he didn’t want to talk with anyone. Not right now. He was hurting and he was angry, and he didn’t know which was the stronger. Nevertheless, Teresa wasn’t going away, so he caved.

  Coffee brewing, she fixed a plate and brought the pasta dish over and set in front of him. She went back, grabbed the crusty, small rolls, and returned to the table, briefly touching his shoulder before she sat across from him.

  “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get, so deal.” She smiled at him.

  Pouting, he picked at his food. She watched the handsome, strong man and burst out laughing. He looked up and couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “That’s better. Why did she leave?”

  He glared at her.

  “Hey, she left in broad daylight, on Main Street. Word travels. What can I say?”

  “I pretty much accused her of being in cahoots with Rob on the robbery.”

  She frowned. Took a sip of her coffee and studied the cup before carefully setting it down. “I know about the robbery because Jane Barnes stopped by for something to eat before heading back. In fact, she was still in town when Morgan left. She thinks you’re wrong about Morgan, by the way.”

  He flung down his napkin, stormed over to the counter and poured more coffee. “I don’t think I ever really thought… I just started thinking of that pompous…and having been so bitter in the beginning, before she arrived…” Disjointed thoughts flowed from his mouth.

  Teresa watched him and felt such sorrow. Bask had gotten her to come with him when he’d told Dorian that Melissa and Thomas had been killed. He was a basket case for two days; there was no other way to put it. She remembered walking into the shop, seeing him smile up from the register as she shut the door and turned the closed sign over. She’d watch his face drain of color and heard the low moan that escaped him as he sat on the stool behind the counter, torn with grief. She’d held him as his body shook with sobs of grief.

  For two days, he’d sat in the master bedroom, on the floor by the bed, with Meesha refusing to leave him. It was a good thing she’d had a key. It took a lot of coaxing to get Meesha to leave his side and then she’d only run outside and come straight back in and up the stairs to lay her head on his lap. It had taken her goading him with guilt over his neglect of his faithful dog that’d finally brought him out of his state. His energy had been down, depleted. She could feel it. She gathered the lodestones kept in the lab and brought them to the bedroom, shoving them into his hands. He stared at them blindly, then at her. She nodded once, then left.

  When Dorian reappeared, he seemed better. He kissed her on the cheek, ate what she put before him and took care of Meesha. When the cremated remains had arrived, he had taken charge of the urns. To this day, Teresa didn’t know if he still had them or he’d interred them somewhere. She didn’t ask. She knew, wherever they were, they were together.

  She studied him now as he stood, drinking his coffee, looking past her, out the window, his mind a million miles away. Actually, more like five hundred. She would bet that his thoughts were on Morgan, heading to Virginia and away from him. She studied him closer.

  “Dorian, you slept with her.” She made it a statement. Watching him, there was no question in her mind.

  His body shifted. He didn’t speak.

  “Son, do you know exactly where she’s gone?”

  His voice was soft, far away, “Doesn’t matter. I can find her. I’ll always be able to find her.” It was no more than a whisper.

  Her breath rushed out. “You’re paired,” came out as a gasp.

  Finally, he moved his eyes from the scene beyond the window to meet hers but said nothing.

  “Damn it, Dorian. Does she know?” She was on her feet coming toward him. For a moment, he saw Melissa in her. The way she moved. Her unbridled personality. He almost smiled. He set down the cup and waited until she was directly in front of him. He could feel the anger and concern vibrate off her. She almost shook with it. He took her by the arms and drew off some of the energy to calm her. She pulled away. “Don’t do that,” she hissed.

  “I just don’t want you having a stroke,” he said low-key, a tinge of humor in his voice.
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  She smacked him in the arm. Not bad for a five-foot-three ball of fire. Not bad at all considering the energy he’d drawn off her. He rubbed his arm.

  “Don’t you doubt for one moment I won’t take you in hand.” She put her hands on her hips and stared up at him, fury in her amber eyes.

  Part of him wanted to rise to his full height in a childish attempt at rebellion, but he knew that it was just that, childish. It wasn’t her fault. She had every right to be angry. Instead, he let out a breath and walked to the back door to let Meesha in.

  “Sit down, Teresa. I’ll explain.”

  She marched back to the table and sat, ramrod straight, like an angry schoolmarm.

  “I was going to tell her today. I mean…” A red flush crept up his neck.

  “Go on,” she urged.

  “We went to the grotto for a picnic. I was trying to explain things then. Things got out of control.”

  “You think?” Sarcasm dripped from her mouth.

  He sighed. “You know how strong attraction can be.” It was her turn to blush. He knew about Bill. He went on. “I’ve been fighting it all along. But when she started…” again, he faltered. “I asked her if she was sure.” He shook his head, knowing she was going to protest. “I know. I should have been stronger. The male in me figured she was here to stay anyway and eventually… I thought we’d have dinner. I’d explain the pairing.” He slammed his fist on the table. “God damn, Rob!”

  “Don’t blame him. You acted like a lunkhead and she went home. About right?”

  He nodded. “I know it’s a long way, but I can probably ease the pull for her, without her knowing.”

  “Yeah,” she sat back, “and who’s gonna do the same for you?”

  “I’m strong. I can handle it.”

  “Sure.” She stretched out the word. “I remember Mel and Thom tried that—and they were prepared, mentally, emotionally and ‘magically’—she made quote marks in the air—it lasted all of a week and they were miserable. Poor Morgan has no idea what’s going to happen to her or what’s causing it. You might want to think about going after her.”

  “Oh, I am.” He looked up suddenly. “I’m not a complete ass.”

  “Jury’s still out on that one, boyo.”

  He ignored her. “I just want to give her time to see her folks first. She really misses them.”

  Their phones rang simultaneously. As Teresa pulled her phone out of her pocket, she saw the expression of hope on Dorian’s face fade to disappointment as he looked at his. She got up and walked into the other room. She listened for a few moments and hung up, turned around and waited for him to finish his call. When he did, she spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Dorian, we have another problem. Jasmine’s missing. She never came home. She was due in several days ago. The girls watching the boutique didn’t want to cause problems for her so they kept it quiet, thinking she was on one of her ‘larks’, as they put it.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t like this.”

  “Well, here’s more good news. That was Jane Barnes. She found out that Rob quit the university months ago. He’s moved out of his place and left no forwarding address. Pretty much disappeared off the radar screen.”

  “Do you think they’re together?”

  “I want to say yes, but I don’t have a clue. However, if Rob has the stones, you can bet I’ll find them—and him. If Jasmine so much as—”

  She cut him off. “Jasmine’s headstrong, self-centered, and willful, but she wouldn’t do anything that would endanger her community or her family. That includes you, Dorian.”

  “Even if she’s jealous?” He’d lived around Jasmine all of her life and knew she could be vindictive, but Teresa was right—she wouldn’t do something to harm Ruthorford. She loved it as much as anyone did.

  “Besides, I saw her and Rob at dinner. She flirted. She was Jasmine. However, about ten, she left and went home. Rob went upstairs and he left the next day, without seeing her again. She didn’t leave town until the next week. Plus, that vacation was planned. It had been for months.”

  Dorian didn’t like the recent developments. Rob missing. Jasmine missing. Suddenly, he was up and moving toward the counter in the shop. He pulled out a file folder from underneath, scanned through a couple of pages, found what he was looking for and looked up at Teresa, who had followed him into the room. “I’m going to let you handle Jasmine for now. See what you can find out. Call John, he’s a PI. Get him on it. Call Bask.” He smiled and shook his head. “Poor Bask. He hasn’t seen this much excitement…” The words trailed off, his smile gone.

  Teresa patted his arm. “Since I ran off with Bill?” She urged him to happier thoughts.

  “Yeah, that.” He appreciated her caring. “I’m calling Morgan’s parents, give them a head’s up. I don’t want Morgan getting any surprises.”

  “You got it, sweetie,” she said as she walked to the door. “Call me later. That’s an order.” She blew him a kiss and was out the door, heading across the street to the boutique.

  The phone call to Morgan’s parents went better than he’d expected. For some reason, he’d figured she’d cried on their shoulder. She hadn’t. At least not about him. They were friendly and open, had put him on speaker so they could both talk to him. Morgan’s Dad was livid when Dorian suggested the possibility of Rob being connected to the thefts. Dorian said nothing of Jasmine, since they didn’t know her. He emphasized that he wasn’t trying to pry or take time away from them but wanted Morgan aware of what was happening. He ended asking them to have her call him, if they would.

  After hanging up the phones, and separated by 500 miles, both men commented, “That went well.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Morgan pulled off the sunglasses and laid them on the kitchen counter. She’d hastily purchased them at the airport to avoid the stares. Being in Ruthorford had afforded her the luxury of familiarity. She’d forgotten what the flagrant stares and comments from strangers felt like. Suddenly, once again, she’d become an oddity. She’d felt herself withdraw, falling back on old patterns, pulling her bangs over her eyes and looking down. At the first kiosk she’d come to, she’d plunked down twenty dollars for the first pair of sunglasses she’d picked up, and had joined the anonymity of the masses.

  She looked around. After the shop and the cottage, her apartment, which had been home for four years, felt barren. Of course, Mrs. T not being there to greet her opened a void in her heart as well. Maybe she’d go see how she was getting along. The place felt so empty. She stepped out onto the balcony. Her mom and dad had taken good care of her plants and they thrived. There were so few. She reached down and grabbed a tiny weed, just poking its head through the soil. The dill had gone to seed. She would have to replace it. A wave of sadness washed over her. She thought of all the plants in the garden at Ruthorford. Maybe she could take these back with her. A slight chill swirled around her. She shivered and glanced around for a violet outline. Seeing nothing, she realized that, up here, fall had arrived. She rubbed her hands up her arms and went inside, pulling the obstinate door in place.

  Morgan wandered through the rest of the place, flicking on lights, resetting the thermostat. When she got to the kitchen, she pulled open the refrigerator door. A box sat on the shelf, a note taped to the top.

  Sweetheart—I picked this up at the bakery today. Just a few seconds in the microwave should do it. Love, Mom

  She grabbed the box. Her heart twisted. However, when she opened the lid, the sugar-dusted confections Dorian had teased her with weren’t nestled in Teresa’s special paper. A single bear-claw, a favorite since childhood, sat alone in the plain box. A tear trickled down her cheek. She gently put the box back in the refrigerator.

  She went to her purse and pulled out the cell phone. After two delays at the airport, it was too late to call her parents, or anyone else for that matter. She hit the buttons. No new messages. Carrying the phone, she lugged the suitcase back to her bedroom and hefted it onto the bed. Setting
the phone next to the bed, she started pulling clothes out of her suitcase. As she reached the bottom, the light seersucker robe appeared. She hung it neatly in the closet, grabbed a nightshirt, and stripped. Naked, she walked into the bathroom and started the shower. As she turned back to the sink, a tiny light winked in the mirror. Startled, she looked up to see the eyes of the owl catching the light. Her fingers brushed over it before she unclasped the fastener and laid it on the counter. It seemed to watch her. She reached out and touched it once more before stepping into the shower.

  She inhaled. Basil and citrus rose in the steam. Not the lush lavender to which she had become accustomed. She felt a tug at her heart. Upset that she was becoming morose, she lathered and scrubbed until her skin tingled. Similar to what she felt when Dorian…oh, good God. She turned off the water and dried herself and her hair, put the necklace around her neck, and went back into the bedroom, only to stare at the small, plain, very empty bed. She had hoped that tonight they would share a bed. Morgan pulled the nightshirt over her head and snuggled into the bed, trying to grasp a vague scent of lavender, the shop, or Dorian, as an exhausted sleep overcame her.

  Morgan followed the path to the grotto. She didn’t remember it winding so, or it being so long. It was darker than she remembered. Why wasn’t Dorian’s light in front of her? She felt the slight tingle at her back. Somehow, he had gotten behind her. That was okay. She smiled to herself. She could see in the dark. She would lead him this time. When she came to where the wall abutted, she turned to the left—and ran into a stone face. She stepped back. Reaching out, she felt the cold stones, following them back around. The bend was to the right. She turned and moved forward. The path continued to wind and seemed to take her down an incline. Then, the path narrowed, barely letting one pass, never two. She stubbed her toe on loose stone and realized she was barefoot. She looked down. She was wearing a nightshirt. When she looked up the path was opening to a large cavern. She listened for the sound of water. Nothing. She looked for the mist faeries. It was still dark. The tingling ran up her spine. This time it felt different. Sharper. Almost painful. She stepped away, careful that she not fall into the pool. She eased her feet forward slowly until she was in the middle of the room. She should be in the middle of the pool, except there was no pool. Morgan felt the current of his fingers run up her arms. She stilled. The current began to pulse. The room lightened. The colors were grey green, the glow putrid. She shivered. The pulse beat at her. What was he doing? She turned and large violet eyes stared into hers.