When they reached the hallway, Sydney released his arm but seemed to take a tiny step closer. He reveled in that tiny give on her part. She seemed like a woman who rarely gave even this mere inch.
“What aren’t you telling me, Mr. Spencer?”
“It’s Nick, and I’m pretty sure you’ve figured it out. You wouldn’t have called me if this was your first rodeo.”
“No?”
“No. You’d still be skipping through the woods with the class, completely unaware it wasn’t your own idea.”
Sydney flipped her ponytail. “You’re right, of course, but I was rather surprised to feel her push me. She’s not…like you.” She glanced down the hall. “Where are you from, Nick?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
She took a deep breath, studying him. “Well, no, probably not. You’re immune to Tawny, and you’re immune to me. Not many are. That kind of magic doesn’t spring up in too many places, so if you’re not from here, it’s probably Salem.”
He nodded.
“But I’m having a really hard time deciphering how you fit into magic because I’m not sensing any on you.”
He leaned forward and breathed in the scent of her hair and, with it, the magic essence that flowed through her, as it did through so many people in this town. When she drew back with a sharp breath, he said, “And yet I’m sensing a world of it on you. It’s…intoxicating. Besides the push and the telekinesis, what other talents do you have?”
“You know about the telekinesis?”
“I felt the residual effects on Saturday. It’s a talent of mine. Besides, I don’t think that witching ball flew off the table of its own volition.”
“I really should have read those files,” she murmured.
Nick frowned. “That sort of thing is in the files?”
She laughed. “Of course not. I mean how would that look if a child transferred to somewhere… not Blansett? It’s not written. It’s”—she leaned forward and whispered— “a spell. One written by the principal to which the staff is privy.” She ran her gaze from his face down to his chest and back. “What would it tell me about you, Nick?”
“Why don’t you let me tell you the family secrets in person? Tonight, at dinner?” He smiled.
Sydney laughed. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Is there a reason I should?”
She curled the end of her ponytail around her finger. “No, not particularly. I’m just not sure we’re ready for dinner yet.”
“Oh I get it.” Nick studied her. “You’re reserving judgment until Janine sends you that estimate.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” she said with a laugh. “My father’s drawn the short straw on the bill. It’s just”—she waved toward the classroom—“a busy time for me.”
He had a hard time holding in his smile. It twitched at the corner of his mouth like an itch he needed to scratch, but he said as seriously as he could, “Sure. Too busy for dinner. I get that. Happens to me all the time.”
A twinkle of golden light sparked in her chocolate eyes, and they both smiled at the same time. “I might not be too busy this weekend.”
“Saturday then. I’ll bring some preliminary designs. Banishing Bistro?”
“Perfect. Seven?”
“Seven it is, though…” He frowned. “Since you’re too busy for dinner, I sure hope you don’t die of hunger before then.”
“I’ll try to survive on lunches. We actually have good food here.” She glanced inside the classroom, and he followed her gaze.
Tawny was now standing at the window, her arms crossed on the ledge, her chin tucked on her hands. Her gaze was fixated on the rest of her classmates enjoying an extended recess, and her expression said that her tiny empire of control had ended since her teacher was immune to her push and, even worse, recognized when it happened.
“She wasn’t like this a year ago,” Nick said.
“What happened?” Sydney asked quietly.
“My sister Natalie… well, she and her husband died six months ago. Auto accident. One of those fluky weather things that happens so often in Massachusetts.”
Tears sparked in Sydney’s eyes, and she blinked them away. “Oh, Nick, I’m so very sorry. For all of you. What can I do to help?”
“I don’t really know yet. She’ll be okay. Eventually. At least I think she will. When Janine and I got custody of her after the accident, we decided a move might be in order. She’d recently gotten divorced, and her boys were hurting too. We came here to heal.”
Sydney tucked her arm through his, and her shiny hair brushed his chin as she laid her head against his shoulder. “Then we’ll make that happen.” She released him, and he felt her loss, as though a tiny piece of himself had been ripped away. “Tawny!”
Her little head swung toward them reluctantly. “Yeah?”
The dejection in her tone hurt Nick’s heart.
“Let’s go out and join the rest of the class. Maybe we can take a short walk in the woods.”
Tawny straightened and whirled, leaning back against the window. “Really?” Her eyes brightened for a moment, but then she glanced between them dubiously, as though trying to decipher what sort of trap she might be falling into.
“Really.” Sydney held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. Tawny raced across the room to take her hand. “We’ll go see what’s in the woods since you’re so keen on knowing.”
Tawny gave her a big smile. “Thanks. I was afraid to go alone.”
Sydney crouched down and took Tawny’s shoulders in her hands. “You must never go anywhere alone, Tawny. Promise me.”
“I promise.”
“And promise me you won’t try to push the kids into doing things against their will. We have a policy at school. We use our magic only during specified times…to practice, but not to control. Got it?” She gave Tawny’s shoulder a little shake.
“Got it,” she said with a smile.
“Now tell your Uncle Nick to come back later to pick you up.”
Tawny lifted her face, but Nick said, “Got it.”
He watched as they walked down the hall toward the exit, one tall, willowy blond and one little bundle of brunette fury, whose curls now flowed in calm tendrils down her back.
His girls. Yep. After today, he was all the more determined to make Sydney his. He felt his own heart healing, and that was a good first step.
Chapter 4
Thursday Evening
“Tell me again why we’re open on Thursday evening.” Sydney propped her chin in her hand and tapped her nails against the countertop.
Halona tickled the feather duster over another crystal ball and chuckled. “It was your idea, so you’ll have to tell me.” She glanced toward the doggie bed, where both Glimmer and Scamp were snoozing and dreaming their doggy dreams. “They have the right idea.”
Sydney took a peek at her watch. Seven p.m. She could be in her pajamas, eating takeout and watching Netflix. In fact…
The bell over the door tinkled. Sydney straightened up and put on her best customer-service smile. When a woman with flowing red hair sasheyed over the threshold, Sydney’s smile fell.
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“Nice to see you too,” Grey said drolly.
Her black mini-skirt hugged her like a second skin, showcasing long, sleek legs and ankle boots, and the nearly transparent aquamarine blouse flowed over her body like a silky waterfall, displaying her cleavage and the black strappy bra top to perfection. Her hips swayed with a life of their own as Grey moved toward the counter. Everything about Grey screamed sex appeal, and half the time, Sydney wasn’t even sure Grey was aware of it. Or maybe she was.
“I love that blouse.” Halona skimmed the fabric with the tips of her fingers. “When did you create this one?”
“This afternoon.” Grey shrugged. “I wanted something different to wear with this bra top. Beck doesn’t like me showing so much skin when we go out.”
“
He’s very sweet to worry about you like that,” Halona said.
Sydney heard only one important thing. Freedom. She reached under the counter and grabbed her purse. “We’re going out?”
“No,” Grey said, “Bethany and I are going out. You have to stay put.”
Sydney pushed out her lip. “Why?”
“Because it’s Thursday,” Grey said with a smile that was anything but sweet. “And someone had a wonderful idea to stay open on Thursday.”
Sydney plopped back in her seat. “Crap.”
Grey leaned against the counter and gave Halona a pointed stare. “Put that feather duster down. Bethany and I are shanghaiing you for a night on the town.”
“Oh, no.” Halona shook her head, her hair tumbling over her shoulders like new fallen snow. “I can’t. I promised—”
Halona’s words simply dropped as Grey drew in a stuttering breath, her gaze darting toward the doggie bed.
“Oh crap…” Sydney reached toward the extinguisher under the counter at the same moment Grey let loose with a sneeze.
The tiny water droplets sizzled and flared, tiny sparks hovering in the air before they blazed bright and shot toward the feather duster. Halona cried out, waving the duster and jumping around, scanning the area as she tried to find a good spot to drop it before it turned into an inferno in her hand.
“The crystal balls,” Sydney shouted, careening around the counter.
Halona released the duster as the fire scorched through the handle. The duster burst into a fireball and fell into a small sea of crystal. Sparks jumped, and flames engulfed the velvet cloth covering the display case, but, after years of practice, Sydney was there fast. She pointed the extinguisher and sprayed the dancing flames, coating them with the white foam until nothing remained but charred, slimy velvet, spiraling gray tendrils of sooty vapor, and the acrid aroma of smoke.
“That really stinks.” Grey waved her hand in front of her face. “There’s definitely too much dander in here. Apparently one of those mutts needs a bath.”
Both dogs lifted their heads above the lip of the bed.
“Or someone forgot to take their allergy pill today,” Sydney groused. She lifted a brow and glanced at Halona. “And she wonders why some areas are off-limits.”
“Speaking of that,” Grey said, “how are the new shelves coming along?”
She spun toward the special collections room and had taken only three steps before Sydney jumped in front of her. “Don’t even think about it.”
Grey tossed her hair and put her pert little nose in the air. “You are absolutely no fun. Do you know that? A real killjoy.”
“I’m a barrel of fun,” Sydney said, waving the canister. “I’m just not fireproof.” When Grey opened her mouth, Sydney added, “And neither is anything else in this shop. Take your allergy pills.”
Grey huffed.
“As least the fire alarm didn’t go off this time.” Halona laughed as she picked up Scamp and cuddled him close.
“Now that would have been embarrassing,” Grey said with a snicker. “Beck’s working tonight, and I kind of promised I’d behave.”
The bell jangled over the door, and Bethany walked in, looking radiant in her skinny jeans and a silky hunter-green tank. Green was a wonderful color for their little earth witch. She took three steps, only to draw back, scrunching her face. “What happened now?”
“Pretty sure you can guess on your own.” Sydney rubbed her fingers together and twitched her fingers until she felt the blossoming heat. The collection of crystal balls rose off the display case, hovering in the foggy air. When Sydney waved her hand, the velvet crumpled into a ball and lifted.
She grabbed the mess and carried it into the backroom, where she dropped it in the sink and ran some water over it, just to be sure. When she returned to the shop, Halona was spraying the display case with cleaner. Sydney crooked her finger, and the crystal balls swayed then danced across the room in a shimmering parade through the curtain into the back room, where she settled them onto the worktable.
“I’ll have to wash those,” she said. “But there’s no reason all of us have to be miserable tonight. Get out of here and have fun.”
Grey rubbed her hands together. “I hear a flaming cocktail calling my name. And I just might create the flames myself. I’m feeling a little spunky.”
“No way,” Bethany said. “The last time you did that, everyone in the bar had a flaming cocktail.”
“And a few of them lost some hair,” Halona added.
Grey frowned. “You guys are simply no fun at all. Besides, I’ve been practicing.”
Sydney pulled a can of Tundra spray from under the counter. “Here,” she said, shoving it at Halona. “Just in case.” She made a shooing gesture. “Go on and get out of here. I’ll drop Scamp off at home when we close up.”
“If you’re sure.” Halona looked torn, glancing between the display case and the curtain. “There’s a lot of stuff to clean up and you—”
“I might hate to clean, but I’m perfectly able to do it on my own.”
Halona had that look on her face, the one that said she’d rather do anything but go out—even clean—but Sydney was determined. Halona needed to have fun, to smile, to get out and see that Blansett held some incredible looking men. She’d been in a funk for a decade, and it was high time she joined the real world.
“I said out,” she said, using her best teacher’s voice.
Grey rubbed her hands together again. “You heard the lady. Let’s go. Maybe next week she’ll think about the schedule a bit better.” She turned on her heel, gave a wave over her shoulder, and said, “Ta ta!”
Bethany and Halona both laughed, and after Halona grabbed her purse, the two women followed their fire starter out of the shop, the bell tinkling merrily in their wake.
“Well, it’s just the three of us, guys. And they’re right. Next week, we are definitely closing at five.”
She smoothed out new velvet—a beautiful maroon color—in the case and was just heading to the back room to clean the crystal balls when she heard the bell ring again. She swung around. “Need another can already?”
Randall Smythe-Warren stepped into the shop.
And the night keeps getting better…
Glimmer and Scamp popped their heads up, gave the visitor a once-over, and then sat up to watch the fireworks.
The ever-stuffy Smythe-Warren wrinkled his aristocratic nose and smoothed one hand down the front of his jacket as if brushing off invisible germs. His other hand clutched an expensive looking briefcase. For a moment, he hovered in the doorway, a tall, gaunt figure, looking more like an undertaker than a rare book specialist, even one who specialized in the dark arts. She really needed to find another procurer. This man ruined her day like a hovering rain cloud.
He gingerly closed the door, but he seemed very reluctant to do so. His nose wrinkled again as he ran a hand through slicked-back blond hair.
“Did you have some sort of…accident this evening? It’s a bit…”
“Rank, I know. Just another day at Mystic Tides, but it’s nothing I can’t fix.”
Sydney rubbed her fingers together and flicked them toward the French door. It popped open with a tiny click and then swung wide. A wash of clean air swept through the room, bringing with it the scent of roses from the outdoor patio.
Smythe-Warren swung around, and his thin face scrunched as his gaze drifted toward the door. He recovered quickly and gave her a smarmy smile.
Now there’s a new development. Ugh. Has he ever smiled at me before? No, I would certainly have remembered that creepy smile.
He probably thought he was being charming, and when that thought entered Sydney’s mind, a little shudder went up her spine. He might as well have been Matthew McConaughey playing a book dealer. Yeah, if they made a movie, that was who they’d cast as this charming, smiling, creepy Randall Smythe-Warren…
He took a huge gulp of the fresh air. “Lovely display of your telekinet
ic ability, but isn’t using magic out in the open like that against the rules?”
“My shop, my rules,” Sydney said with a tight smile. “And it’s not quite in the open. We’re rather alone here.”
“We are indeed.” He moved closer, and she smelled something as rank as the smoke lingering in the air. He really needed a new cologne.
Is he hitting on me? OMG I might puke here.
“Were you looking for anything in particular, Randall? Supplies for a spell, new runes? We…”
He wasn’t even listening. His gaze scanned his surroundings, his nose wrinkling once again, but this time with distaste. He apparently didn’t like their little shop, and as if she needed even one more tiny reason, her dislike of him spiraled into the stratosphere. It was funny, though, because he hadn’t seemed so judgmental in their other encounters.
“If you’re going to ask to go into my collections room again tonight, the answer hasn’t changed. It’s still no. I especially didn’t appreciate you bothering my friends with your demands last week. They told me—”
Something slithered across his face. A shadow or a… What is going on with his face? For one moment she thought she saw a look of horror pass over his features, some sort of silent scream, but that was impossible because Smythe-Warren was smiling, that ghoulish grin splitting his face almost in two.
“Um…no…I was actually hoping to catch you tonight, Sydney.”
Her name fell from his lips like some sort of oily sludge. She pressed her lips together before she said something she would regret. Nick might have suspicions about Smythe-Warren’s motives and pricing methods, but she had no real proof that he’d been conning her out of money for years, and probably conning her father out of money for decades.
“Well, you caught me.”
“Now isn’t that an interesting idea?” That slow smile that slithered over his face made her almost nauseous.
Mystic Tides Page 13
