He didn’t have to be so kind to me. Was he expecting something in return that he would cash in on later? That was typically how men worked, but I’d thought he was different. Of course as the CEO of a major pharmaceutical company, he would have to have a mind for business. The question was how much of that ruthless quid pro quo philosophy he put into his personal relationships.
Oh, right, you don’t have a personal relationship with him. You’re not part of that world anymore.
He seemed to know how far I had fallen, or he’d researched it while I was in the shower. Right, because he’d mentioned my business in the present tense when he re-introduced me to his brother. Maybe that was why he’d decided against bringing me to Salem himself—I was suddenly not a worthy investment of time since I was no longer in his business league. I thought I was still beautiful, but Matt had called me a bitter shell.
Was that what other people who’d known me before saw—a haggish shadow of what I used to be?
The bright colors of the trees and sky dulled with my mood. The shuttle dropped me off at the nearest hotel to my parents’ neighborhood, and I walked to the house. When I opened the front door with the key my mother had mailed to me, the salt smell of the air outside melded into the fresh, pine-scented odor inside.
Memories flooded back, and I closed my eyes to catch them.
We’d spent summers up here as kids, and I remembered my grandmother bustling out of the kitchen with a plate of fresh Italian cookies to meet us when we arrived. She was long dead, as was my grandfather, but my father hadn’t been able to let go of the house.
Suddenly, a desire to go into Salem overtook me. It was so strong I felt like I’d been pushed, but when I turned, no one was there. I’d been pining over my old life, but what if I went back to my old old life before my success, back when I was a student and was just starting out with a sense of wonder about everything? Was that even possible?
I made a quick check of the house and I found that someone had come and turned on the water and heat for me—probably the caretaker my parents hired to manage renting out the place and get it ready for their infrequent visits. What had my mother told her? That her failure of a daughter was coming to make a last-ditch effort at putting her life back together?
Whether I was bitter or nostalgic or wondering, I needed to get out of that house.
The walk into downtown Salem took about thirty minutes. As my feet remembered the way, I enjoyed the colonial architecture and the crisp sea breeze, which felt like it blew the cobwebs away from my brain. With it being mid-October in a place famous for its witch trials and a month-long Festival of the Dead, each neighborhood vied to outdo the others with its decorations. Some houses had large fake spider webs with giant spiders in them and others witch dummies over cauldrons filled with dry ice or something that made them smoke. And, of course, plenty of skulls, mostly human, but I looked away from a few that resembled canines.
I didn’t need any reminders that my kind would have been burned, hanged, or pressed to death several hundred years previously.
As I got closer to town, more people appeared on the sidewalks and going in and out of stores. Some were already in costume. At least I think they were in costume. I stopped at a coffee shop for a cup of tea and a turkey sandwich.
Once I was sitting by the window and watching the people outside, the nostalgia wore off, and I wondered what I was going to do here. I had very little knowledge of Salem beyond what my vague childhood memories told me, and I didn’t know anyone.
Again, there was a sensation like a nudge at the back of my brain telling me to go farther downtown toward the tourist center and the museums. It had been so long since I had any kind of direction that I had to follow the urge, if only to satisfy my curiosity.
I couldn’t tell why, but I followed the urge with its mental directions like an internal GPS down streets I’d forgotten about long ago. My feet carried me to an indoor gallery with an arched glass roof over a common area packed with people resting at tables. An assortment of shops, including a crystal and rock boutique store, lined either side. I recalled from my childhood how I loved to go into that sort of shop and look at the shiny, pretty things.
Back when I was a shiny, pretty thing myself.
A bell over the door chimed when I walked in. A woman seated behind a register looked up. Her straight gray hair stood up in several directions like she’d been running her hand through it or grabbing it in agitation. Although not pretty, she had a striking face with a strong nose and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen on a human. Her pale skin set them off, and I felt like the ground shifted when she looked at me.
Yep, time to get out of here.
Before I could turn, she said in a Scottish accent, “Oh, good. You’re here.”
I looked around. Had someone walked in behind me? No, we were the only two people in the shop. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m who you were expecting.”
“Of course you are.” She hopped down from her stool and came out from behind the counter. She must have been about five feet tall, and I tried not to stare at how quickly she moved in spite of her plump build.
“No, really, I just came in town today. I’m only visiting for a little bit.”
She walked around me, her head cocked and her eyes narrowed. As a former model, I’d undergone my share of scrutiny and harsh feedback, but her examination made me more nervous than I could remember feeling, even starting out. My mind tried to guess what she’d find at fault, how I was bloated from the plane trip, my eyes had circles under them from not sleeping and too much frustrated weeping, and my clothing all secondhand.
“Hard on yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.
“I didn’t say anything.” But I still pressed my lips together. Had I spoken my thoughts?
“I can see it in your face and the set of your shoulders. You’ve had a hard time lately and need a job. The girl who was supposed to start today didn’t show.”
“I’m not looking for a job. Why would I be?”
She made a clicking noise with her tongue. “Why wouldn’t you be? Your aura tells me you’re lost and in need of someplace to settle, and living takes money. You can’t survive on just your looks.”
“My…aura? Sorry, this is getting too weird.” And I used to support myself with my appearance.
I turned to go, but she put a hand on my wrist. I froze, like seriously froze. I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Comfort and soothing flowed from her into me. The feelings made for an odd mix of fear and settled into something I didn’t know I’d been missing. For the first time in weeks, I took a deep, full breath.
“There, now.” She released my wrist and patted it. “I’m sorry, I forget that people aren’t used to me, not even the locals yet. I’m Veronica Chalice. This is my sister’s shop, but I’m minding it for her while she’s being treated for cancer.” She gestured around her. “And I need help.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not available right now.”
She clicked her tongue again. “That’s not true. You just don’t realize it yet. I put out there that I needed someone to help me who knew about the strange world of magic, and in you came. Tell me, truthfully, you felt drawn here, didn’t you?”
I didn’t trust my tongue—it wanted to spill the entire story—so I just nodded.
She peered into my face. “And you know that there are more things in this world than most people are aware of, even if you don’t accept them for yourself beyond what you have to.”
Another nod. Can she tell what I am?
“Those who are special like you need help. I can tell you where it’s safe to run after you change and where to stay away from, especially now that it’s our busiest time of the year and the area crowded.”
Oh, dear gods, she’s a real witch. And she knows I have CLS and wants to help me.
“And what do you want in return?” I asked.
“No lying. That’s the first thing. And I want—no, need—someone like you t
o work for me. You can sniff out the shoplifters and dishonest people. I also suspect you can tell who needs what stone.”
“I’m not a witch,” I told her. “Yes, I can sniff out strangeness, but not dishonesty, and I have no magical ability.”
Am I really here having this conversation? Part of me felt like I was standing there watching my bewildered self interact with the Scottish witch.
But I can’t deny that something drove me here, and I do need some sort of income. That six hundred dollars won’t last me too long up here.
“You probably have more than you know. Most people, especially those who are touched like you’ve been, do.” She stepped back and gestured to the store. “Close your eyes and tell me which stone speaks to you.”
I closed my eyes, but the door chimed. I opened my eyes to see a young policeman walk in.
“Excuse me, are you the owner of the store?” he asked me in a classic New England accent with no “r’s.”
I indicated Veronica. “She is.”
“Ma’am, I have some questions for you. One of your employees was found dead at her home this morning.”
3
Witchy Wanderings
The policeman asked his questions, and Veronica answered as best she could. Unfortunately, she was the only one at the store the night before and that morning, and she hadn’t made any sales, although plenty of people had come in to look. Still, as she said to the cop, the tourists all blended together once the season picked up, and she couldn’t really give a clear description of anyone. And her sister had gone to bed early.
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll ask your fellow shopkeepers. It’s too bad your sister can’t alibi you.”
She narrowed her eyes, but he’d already turned to me. I wondered if he’d transform into a newt later.
“And what’s your name?”
“Kyra Ellison.”
“Do you work here?”
Veronica gave me a pleading look, and the hard shell I thought I’d wrapped around my heart cracked. Sure, she didn’t know me from Eve, but she needed me, as opposed to my own mother, who had sent me as far away as she could.
Plus, Veronica was going to be short-handed, and if she was going to be a person of interest in a police investigation, she wouldn’t have time to mind the store. I’d only known her a short time, but I felt protective of her, although I suspected she didn’t need my help in that way.
Seriously, I wondered if the cop was going to turn into some sort of reptile later.
I smiled. “I guess I do now.”
“And did you know Crystal LaForge?” he asked.
I almost asked if that was a stripper name, but I tamped down my inner smart ass. “No, I just got in town today.” And someone named Crystal was going to work there?
I was no detective, but it seemed a fishy coincidence or at least weird. But then, everything about this situation was odd.
“Can you tell me who can verify that?”
“You can check with the airline.” I gave him my flight information and, reluctantly, the number for the caretaker of my parents’ house. I had no doubt my mother would be hearing about my tangential involvement in a mysterious death—“We’re not calling it a murder yet”—sooner than I’d like her to.
“And is there anyone else who can vouch that you weren’t in Salem until this afternoon? Your timing doesn’t work out if your flight got in at nine.”
“I was visiting a friend in Boston.” Uh oh.
“And this friend’s name is…?” He paused, pen poised over paper.
I gritted my teeth. “Jared Steel.”
His eyes widened, but I couldn’t tell whether it was from shock or disbelief. Both pissed me off.
“The billionaire pharmaceutical guy?” he asked.
“That’s him.” Of course everyone would know who Jared Steel was. He was a legend in the state. My cheeks heated to the color of the magenta stone on the shelf beside me.
He either thinks I’m lying or that I’m showing off.
Veronica only looked amused.
“Great, I’ll check with him. His people. Him.” He raked his fingers through his hair and snapped his notepad closed.
Veronica and I shared a smile over his head.
After he left, she shook her head and said, “I don’t know whether to cry about Crystal or laugh at how you flustered that poor young man.”
Poor young man, huh? Guess he won’t be transforming into anything slimy later.
She hopped back down from her stool and walked around the counter so she could look me straight in the face and say, “You didn’t mention you have a relationship with such a powerful man.”
“I don’t have a relationship with him. He let me change clothes at his place after I fell into a puddle at the airport.”
“And…”
I huffed. “And he offered to let me borrow his car, but it was only a Jaguar.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew how silly they sounded. “I refused.”
“Men don’t trust others with their machines lightly,” she told me. “I suspect you’ll be hearing from him sooner rather than later.”
I held my breath, expecting my cell phone to ring, but it didn’t. “Later, then.”
“Good. Let me show you around the shop and how to work the register. I’ve worked all day without a break. Oh, and why didn’t you tell me your name was Mercy? You can’t get much more Salem than that.”
Is she senile?
“It’s not. It’s Kyra.”
“Ah, but that’s how you got your name, isn’t it?”
Now a shiver tickled the back of my neck. My mother had said she and my father couldn’t decide what to name me until one of the nurses had walked in on my mother holding me and said, “Lord have mercy, that’s a beautiful baby!” They had decided to play on the Latin Kyrie Eleison—Lord, have mercy—since my last name would be Ellison until I married.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
“I’m sorry, dear, you’ll get used to me. If there’s something you don’t want me to know, just put it under a blanket in your mind. I can’t help being nosy sometimes, especially when I’m under stress.” She shook her head. “Poor Crystal. I’d so looked forward to her working here—her name was just perfect—but I was going to fire her for not showing up on her first day. I felt bad enough about that, but now I feel awful.” She smacked one small fist into her other hand. “And I should have known something bad would happen to her, but I didn’t sense anything.”
I wasn’t sure if her not knowing her former employee would die made me feel better or worse about her witchy abilities. “Maybe there are some things we aren’t meant to know.”
She inclined her head. “You’re a wise young woman, even if you don’t give yourself credit for it. Now, tell me which stone needs to be yours. Then I’ll give you the tour, training, and paperwork. Do you have proof of citizenship?”
“I think I’d rather hold off on finding my crystal,” I said. “This has all been a bit much, but I’m fine watching the store if you need to go grab lunch or something.”
After a quick tour of the inventory and a training of how to use the old-fashioned cash register, she settled me behind the counter with the employment paperwork. She also gave me her cell phone number.
“I’m a modern witch, but sometimes these electronic thingies don’t work well around me. That’s why I still use the antique register. But text me or call if you have a problem. I’ll just be in the cafe down the way.”
She left, and I started on the paperwork. Name—easy, although I was still freaked out about how she knew its origin. Address—that was harder. My license still had my Crystal Pines address on it, and my passport my parents’ address since I hadn’t kept a regular address until I’d gotten CLS and stopped traveling. Prior to that, I had an apartment but would only sign short-term leases in case something better came along.
I put the address of the Salem house since that was where I would need paychecks mailed.
I’d also have to find a branch of the national bank I used.
I hadn’t unpacked at the house, and my passport was still in the inner pocket of my purse. When I opened it for the number, old Kyra looked up at me. It was a tiny photo, and they had told me not to smile, so I saw the cold haughtiness I’d cultivated. I couldn’t remember why, exactly. Perhaps to push people away and make sure they wouldn’t interfere with my plans? I couldn’t recall if I’d been lonely. Alone wasn’t a problem, and I never lacked for male company, but I didn’t have many—any—female friends.
I wondered if Cindy Steel would be amenable to lunch sometime. The thought surprised me, but she had seemed open and friendly.
I shook my head. That would be another tie to this place, and I wasn’t sure I was going to stay. Although I was now in a temporary position, presumably through the Halloween season, it felt more permanent than I was comfortable with.
Veronica returned from her late lunch with a cookie for me. No one had come in the store, which I found odd since I’d seen plenty of people outside in the shopping center’s gallery—a long hall between the shops with a vaulted ceiling. Occasionally someone would peer through the window, but the bell over the door remained silent.
“Why aren’t they coming in?” I asked. The stones were displayed on the shelves in an appealing way, particularly in the two glass windows that faced the gallery. I’d familiarized myself with the pricing, and although I didn’t know the area that well, the crystals seemed reasonable. I hadn’t found any that needed to come home with me, though.
“Those who need to come in will,” she said. “After last night’s lookie-loos I decided I didn’t want to bother with anyone who wasn’t serious.”
“How?” But then I remembered the nudges that had brought me here. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
She shook her head and clicked her tongue again. It wasn’t so charming this time.
“You struggle with your own magical nature, don’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, and shivered when I saw how close we were to the full moon—the only time when changing into a wolf wasn’t voluntary for those of us with Chronic Lycanthropy Syndrome.
Lycanthropy Files Box Set: Books 1-3 Plus Novella Page 82
