And she was putting off being alone. Her smile faded as she began to realize just how frightened she was to go home. And that pissed her off. She was no coward, and no otherworldly entity was going to drive her out of her own home.
She was Esmeralda LeGrande’s granddaughter. She wasn’t one to turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. That apartment was her home, her sanctuary. Hers.
The pep talk did her good and put a slight skip in her step. She kept her pace as fast as she could. She was already sweating in the heat and was looking forward to a cool bath when she got home. She usually took showers but didn’t think she could close the shower curtain when she was there alone. Still, a bath would be nice. A soak in a tub of tepid water would cool her heated skin and make her feel fresh and invigorated.
She almost made it past her favorite shop, really she did. It wasn’t her fault she stopped, not really. Jules’ Treasures was part-antique store, part-thrift shop, and he always had interesting things for sale. He always placed some of them on the sidewalk out front to tempt her and other unsuspecting passersby.
“You don’t need anything.” Her brain might have been listening, but her feet weren’t. They slowed, gradually coming to a halt in front of an interesting display of old carnival memorabilia.
“Just got them in today.” Jules Montrose leaned against the doorjamb of his shop and smiled at her, his teeth gleaming, his dark skin smooth and unlined in spite of his age. Sabrina really had no idea how old he was, but he was a dear friend of Granny Esmeralda.
She set her belongings down and leaned them against the building. “Tell me about all this stuff.” More than the things themselves, she loved the stories behind them, the lives entwined with the material possessions. And Jules always had a story.
He smoothed a hand down his crisp blue shirt and his smile widened. He knew he had her hooked. “Well, these here signs are from a genuine traveling carnival, the kind that used to travel all over the country, heck all over the world back at the turn of the last century.” His eyes took on a faraway appearance, as though he was lost in the past. “I remember this one myself. Went to it back in the late fifties, or maybe it was the early sixties.” He frowned. “Doesn’t matter much, I suppose. The theme parks pretty much put them out of business by the late seventies, early eighties. Might still be a few small ones going around, but they’re nothing the size the old ones were.”
Sabrina perched on the window ledge beneath the awning. She pointed to a sign about eight feet long and three feet high. “Shade’s Carnival.” She said the name aloud, trying to visualize how the sign would have looked in its prime. The paint was chipped and the light bulbs were missing from most of the sign, but it was easy enough for her to imagine it lit up, drawing folks toward the fair grounds.
Jules nodded. “That’s right.” He pointed to a smaller sign, which listed the prices for the rides—three tickets for a turn on the Ferris wheel and two for a turn in the funhouse. “From the price of a ticket, I’d say this might have been one of the last big shows still touring the country.”
Another sign caught her eye. Like the rest, it was weather worn, the blue, red and gold painting chipped and peeling. This one advertised a man who could eat fire and swallow swords, a knife-thrower, magic tricks, a contortionist and a fortuneteller. Very cool. She wished she could have visited the carnival and seen some of the acts.
Jules cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from the sign. She knew what that meant and it wasn’t going to be good for her wallet. Still, she had to ask. “What else have you got?”
He rubbed his large hands together and motioned her inside. “Got something I set aside for you to see before I put it out on display. Knew you’d be interested.”
Sabrina could feel her bank account shrinking even as she gathered her belongings and trudged into the shop behind Jules. Whenever he said those words it cost her money. Of course, he knew what she liked. She had a respectable collection of framed vintage postcards and prints and some really nice antique tarot decks that Jules had found for her.
The inside of the store was much darker than the outside and she blinked to adjust to the dimmer light. “Just leave your things behind the counter and follow me,” Jules instructed.
Anticipation made her blood hum. Not something small if he wasn’t keeping it tucked behind the counter for her. She dumped her belongings as instructed and wound her way through the warren of items, sidestepping a slightly battered leather trunk that had great potential as a coffee table, swerving around a chair that had to be at least one hundred years old, and squeezing past a rather large mahogany hutch that would take up half her dining area.
“This way,” Jules called. He was already through the door that led to his backroom.
Butterflies lurched in her stomach. The backroom was like the doorway to a magical kingdom, the wardrobe into Narnia, the rabbit hole to Wonderland. She’d only been allowed back here a few times in her life and each time had been an adventure. There was stuff piled everywhere, and only Jules knew what it all was and where it was located. Nothing was listed on a computer. Everything was organized in Jules’ brain. He could put his hands on anything at a moment’s notice and tell you the provenance of the item.
She halted in the doorway, a sudden fear descending on her. Her blood hummed and she knew, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that whatever Jules was about to show her would change her life forever. She tried to shake off the sensation but couldn’t. Her intuition was screaming at her, louder than it ever had.
Sabrina gripped the doorframe. “Well, what is it?”
Jules flicked on a light that illuminated a dark corner of the storage room. The gasp caught in her throat. She blinked, unable to believe her eyes. Her hand fell away from the doorjamb and her feet moved forward. Hand extended, she reached for the wolf.
He was massive, much larger than any real wolf. And she knew in her heart the wolf had to be male. He was much too large to be a female.
The wolf was magnificent. Primal. Elemental. There weren’t any other words that could describe him. His flanks seemed to ripple, as though he was caught in mid-stride. His mouth was open in a silent snarl, exposing razor-sharp fangs. This was no softened version of the wolf, but a depiction of him at his most primitive and powerful.
“Where did you get him?” Sabrina was almost afraid to touch him. Afraid he wouldn’t be real.
“This incredible creature was part of a carousel ride that belonged to the carnival. Guess the ride fell into disrepair over the years and they sold off the rest of the animals. All that was left was this guy.”
Her fingers grazed the wolf’s flanks. She yanked her hand away, surprised at how the tips of her fingers tingled. For a brief second, he’d felt as though he was more flesh and bone than wood and paint.
“Can you turn on another light?” She really wanted to have a better look at him. The dim light and the layer of dust covering him prevented her from seeing him very well.
“This is as good as it gets. Almost all the lights blew this morning. It was the damndest thing.” Jules shrugged. “One of my cousin’s boys is an electrician and he’s coming in tomorrow to check things out.” He shrugged. “Old wiring probably needs replacing.”
Oh well, it didn’t matter how well she could see the wolf, she knew she wanted him. “How much?” Not that it mattered. She had to have him, supposing she lived off rice and beans for the next five years.
She glanced at Jules and found him scratching his head. “Don’t rightly know, Sabrina. Never had anything like him before.”
“When has that ever stopped you?”
Her wry reply made him laugh, and he grinned. “You got that right, little girl. But this time is different.”
A shiver raced down her spine. She glanced at the wolf, unable to deny the wave of longing that went through her. She had to have him. He’d fit perfectly in the corner of her living room and could watch over her and protect her.
The fanc
iful thought made her smile in spite of the ball of dread curling in her belly. The wolf was her guardian, her protector, and she had a permanent reminder inked on her back. Her tattoo tingled and she resisted the urge to touch it.
“Different how?”
Jules rubbed a hand over his short, graying hair. “I had a dream about your granny last night.”
That caught her attention, and she reluctantly left the wolf and hurried to Jules. “What was it about?”
Jules pulled out an eighteenth century English chair and sat. He motioned to her to do the same. The chair she found was orange hard plastic and obviously dated from the late sixties or early seventies. She pulled the chair close enough so their knees were almost touching.
His face was troubled, the lines around his eyes deeper than usual. “Esme was telling me that the wolf belonged to you. She was also worried about you, girl.”
Sabrina swallowed back emotion. She missed her granny so much and wished she could talk to her. She was also jealous of Jules’ dream. Why couldn’t she dream about her granny instead of mysterious lovers and scary, disembodied voices? “Did she say why she was worried?”
Others might scoff, but she was a big believer in the power of dreams. Some people believed they could carry messages from those who’d passed beyond the earthly plane. Sabrina wasn’t about to discount the possibility.
Jules reached out and took her hands in his. They were big hands, strong from years of hard work. He rubbed his thumbs over her palms. “She didn’t say, or if she did I couldn’t understand her. But I do know I’ve never seen her so worked up over something.” He gave her fingers a squeeze and released them. “All I know is she wanted you to have that there wolf.”
He shook his head. “Maybe I’m just an old man with an active imagination, but my grandson is coming to help me load him up and bring him to your place as soon as I close shop. I already called him.”
Sabrina wanted to jump up and do a fist-pump. The wolf was hers. But another part of her was worried this was another part of whatever madness had entered her life over the past few weeks. Although that concern was tempered by Jules’ dream about her granny. If Granny was in the dream then it was a positive, powerful one and it behooved her to pay attention to it.
If Granny Esmeralda thought the wolf belonged to her then Sabrina wasn’t about to argue, but there was no way she could take the wolf for free. She’d never feel as though he really belonged to her. “I have to give you something for him, Jules.”
The old man shook his head. “I told Esme you’d say that.” He chuckled at her concerned expression. “Oh, I know the difference between dreams and reality, missy.” He pushed out of his chair and extended his hand to help her up. “But I like to believe I’m able to talk to my old friend from time to time.”
“And what did she say?” Sabrina liked the idea of him being able to talk to her granny too. Didn’t matter if it was real or not as long as it made them both feel better.
“She said to charge you three hundred dollars. Any more would be too much. Any less and you’d feel as though you were fleecing an old man.”
Sabrina snorted. “Old man, my foot. You’ll outlive us all.”
Jules’ booming laughter echoed around the dim room. “That’s the plan, missy.”
She glanced over her shoulder and met the dark-eyed stare of the wolf. She really wanted to see him better, to clean off the layer of dust that covered him. “Three hundred?”
Jules nodded and led the way back toward the shop. “And Marcel and I will deliver him in about an hour.”
There really was no decision to be made. Sabrina hurried back to the front of the store, went behind the counter and grabbed her purse. Thanks to the extra sales today she had more than enough in her wallet to pay cash.
Transaction completed, she reluctantly left the shop. If it were anyone else but Jules, she wouldn’t have been able to leave her wolf behind. Her wolf. If anyone else could hear her thoughts, they’d be worried about the state of her mental health. Heck, she was worried too. But there was something about that wolf that called to her.
As she dragged herself and her belongings up the stairs to her apartment, she found herself wondering what other animals had been on the carousel with the wolf. What a wonder it would have been to see the carousel brand new, to maybe even have the opportunity to ride it.
Maybe she’d do some research online. After all, she knew the name of the carnival that had owned the ride. Maybe there were pictures of it out there somewhere.
She unlocked her door and let herself in, happy to be home. She stowed her gear in the closet and kicked off her shoes. Her imagination was already at work, conjuring up the image of the carousel. It would have been magnificent with intricate scrollwork painted in white, red and gold. Unlike some traditional carousels with horses, this one would have exotic animals, all ferocious and proud.
Sabrina stripped off her top and bra on the way to the bathroom. She set the water running before she pulled off her skirt and underwear. Taking care, she removed the beads and the amulet her friends had given her and set them safely on the vanity.
A handful of bath salts perfumed the air around her as she stepped into the tub. She grabbed her sponge and started washing. There was no time to waste. Jules and his grandson would be here in less than an hour with her wolf.
He’d need a name. She’d figure that out once she’d gotten a better look at him. Her mind was filled with images of the carousel ride. A frown creased her brow as a strange thought struck her. She tossed aside her sponge, pulled the plug in the tub and climbed out, reaching for a towel.
She’d started several paintings a few months back and set them aside not knowing how she wanted to finish them. Wrapping the towel around her, she hurried to the front closet where she stored her unfinished work and shoved things aside until she found what she was looking for. There were two canvases, each three feet by two feet. One was of a fairground filled with light, teeming with people and activity. The other one made her shiver. It was a circular carnival ride, but she hadn’t known how to finish it. She’d pictured it with tiny cars or circular cups, something children could sit in and enjoy. But she knew now what it was meant to be—a carousel.
“What the hell is going on?” She propped both paintings up in front of the bookshelves in the living room and studied them. Why had she started working on these in the first place? Had she read about a carnival somewhere? Had someone mentioned something?
Jessica. That’s it. Jessica had mentioned something about old-time traveling carnivals months ago, asking her if she’d ever been to one. Obviously, the conversation had inspired the paintings.
A wave of relief washed over Sabrina. This had nothing to do with the old carnival signs and the carousel animal in Jules’ shop. It was nothing more than coincidence.
Sabrina glanced at the clock and swore under her breath. Jules and Marcel would be here soon and she didn’t want to meet them at the front door wearing nothing more than a towel.
With one final glance over her shoulder at the unfinished paintings, she hurried to her bedroom to dress. Since she was home for the evening and comfort was the goal, she opted for a tank top the color of ripe blueberries and a pair of faded jeans. She thought about braiding her hair but decided to just leave it hanging free.
She took a quick detour back to the bathroom and fastened the amulet Tilly had given her around her neck. Then she took Jessica’s strand of beads and stones and wrapped them around her wrist. Satisfied, she clicked off the bathroom light.
Once Jules and his grandson had come and gone she’d fix some dinner since she hadn’t taken the time to stop and pick something up on the way home and didn’t feel like calling for takeout. Then she planned to spend the rest of the evening enjoying her wolf. He might even serve as inspiration for her to finish the two paintings.
Excited once again, she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of sweet tea. She’d only had one sip and was still
contemplating what to eat when a knock came on the front door. Her wolf was here.
Chapter Five
“Where do you want it?” Marcel asked, but Sabrina had eyes only for her wolf. “Sabrina?” Jules’ grandson prompted, and she forced her gaze away from the magnificent creature that now belonged to her.
“Over there.” The corner of the living room next to her bookshelf was about the only place he would fit. “Let me move the chair.” She hurried forward and dragged the chair to one side and watched with satisfaction as Marcel and Jules carried her new purchase inside.
It was all she could do to keep from jumping up and down and clapping her hands like a kid at Christmas. “Perfect.”
Jules removed a snow-white handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his forehead. “Wasn’t sure I’d be able to get him up the stairs. He’s heavier than he looks.” He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and then stroked a hand over the flank of the wolf. “No, sir, they don’t make ’em like this anymore. Hand carved from a chunk of wood, not made out of plastic or some other fake material.”
Marcel stood by the door, waiting not quite patiently. “Come on, Grandpa. I got a date tonight.”
Jules grinned. “Never let it be said I stood in the way of true love.” He stopped in front of her long enough to drop a kiss on her cheek. “Drop by on the weekend. I’m expecting a new shipment Friday night from an estate sale I sent Marcel to last week. We’ll see just what kind of an eye the boy has.”
The boy was a twenty-two-year-old college student who went to school full-time, worked a part-time job and also helped his grandpa out when he needed it.
“I got a great eye and you know it. If I don’t, it’s all your fault since you taught me everything you know.”
The old man tipped back his head and laughed. “He’s right, you know.” He kissed her again. “See you on the weekend.”
“See you then. Take care. Thanks, Marcel,” she called as the tall, lanky man practically bolted down the stairs. He raised a hand and waved goodbye over his shoulder. Jules followed at a slightly slower pace.
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