My lips trembled. “Why?”
“Because people depend on you here.”
I laughed. “No, they don’t.”
“They do. I know they do.”
“Name one.”
“What about Finn? The kid worships you. Where will he get the medicine for his mother, if you’re not here? It’s not like you to give up like this.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m being practical, something I should have been from the start.” I stood and picked up the moonstones. They cast light around the sparse room, and sure enough, shelving units filled with tea canisters lined the walls. “Don’t be too hard on Estelle. She was trying to help.”
Derrick rose to his feet and stepped closer. His familiar scent filled my senses. How long would I remember it? Would it become a visceral memory every time I smelled anything similar? How cruel.
“Listen up, Detective. If you want to beat me then get some sleep. Eat something. Give me a real challenge, something to remember you by.”
“And what about you?”
“You don’t have to remember me.”
“What if I want to? You have to give me something.”
“A spell?” I closed the distance between us.
His hands circled my waist. “No.”
“Then how about an illusion?” I wound my fingers around his neck, going up on my toes. My lips found his, and I kissed him slow, thinking maybe it didn’t have to end. But that was the thing about illusions. They didn’t last.
Derrick let me lead, let me take my time. His mouth was warm against mine, lingering. It wasn’t an urgent kiss. Maybe it should have been. It should have been a lot of things, but it was only going to be a memory.
I pulled away and made for the door, taking the light with me.
***
My shop looked the same as it did when I’d left it. A mess. Boxes—some full, some waiting—were stacked against the wall. Vivian had made a dent in the display of creams and powders, getting most of them packed away, but she’d left the cabinet of oils for another day. I couldn’t look at any of it anymore. It stank of giving up. Vivian was right. I was running away.
I kicked one of the boxes and headed for the stairs. Something shattered beneath my feet.
Looking down, I expected to see a broken bottle, but there was nothing there. Which meant…
My gaze flew to the hatch in the floor. Someone was in my basement.
Slowly, I crept closer, trying to keep my feet from making a sound. I should get a weapon. Why had I packed the crystal spikes first? I had no idea which box they were in now. Maybe fire ant powder? A dash to the face, and any intruders would wish they were dead. At the very least, they’d run screaming, fingers clawing at their skin.
I skirted the hatch and searched the box of powders, finding the jar near the top. Off came the lid, while voices filtered up from the basement. There was more than one of them.
My fingers clenched the jar. Any sane person would run and get help, but they might be gone by the time I got back. The plan: Toss the powder down the hole, and ask questions later.
I flung the trap door open.
“Tessa, is that you? Where do you keep the elderberry wine? All you have is blackberry. You know I can’t stand the stuff.” Sylvia popped her head into view and gestured with her cane. “It’s a disaster down here. I don’t know how you find anything.”
“Sylvia! Why are you in my basement?”
She rolled her eyes. “The wine, dear. Are you hard of hearing? Where is it?”
“Found it!” A man shouted.
