Looking a little intoxicated, Ash gently threads his hands into my hair and moves in for another kiss. Against my lips, he murmurs, “Yes…but not yet.”
Moss Hollow Rocksand Gems smells like earth magic. Human customers probably mistake it for rock dust, which is also present, but I know better.
A massive geode with amethyst crystals stands in the shop window, surrounded by large chunks of fluorite, calcite, and other things I don’t recognize. A case along the wall holds more minerals, along with handmade jewelry.
Rosalie stands at the counter, chatting with a customer. Her eyes spark with curiosity as soon as she notices Ash and me in the doorway.
Her features are soft and willowy, and she’s tall and slender. If I didn’t know she was a mage, I might mistake her for high fae.
She’s older than I am, probably closer to Ash’s age, and she’s so pretty, she’s a little intimidating. If I were to stand next to her, I’d probably look like a high school student.
“Welcome,” she calls to us. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“We need to speak with Ansel,” Ash says. “We’ll head to the back, if that’s all right.”
She nods, already returning her attention to the customer.
“I’ll introduce you to her later,” Ash promises.
He leads me past a bulk bin of polished stones, behind a counter, and through a heavy wooden door. Like the one in the library, I can sense an enchantment on it. We wouldn’t be able to pass through it if we were human.
We enter a narrow hall. To the right is a set of stairs that leads up to the second level. If this shop is like mine, there’s an apartment up there.
To the right, the hall goes about ten feet and then makes a ninety-degree turn. We pass a bathroom, an open storage closetthat looks like it survived a tornado, and eventually end up in front of a closed door. A piece of computer paper is posted to it with a strip of duct tape. The message reads, “Do not disturb if you value your life.”
“Not” is underlined twice.
Ash reads it, unimpressed, and raps on the door with the back of his knuckles.
A few seconds later, the door flies open. “What did I say?—”
Ansel stops abruptly when he sees us, his expression morphing to an annoyed version of resignation, making me think Ash interrupts the sorcerer regularly.
“We planted our window boxes, paid our dues, I’m not harboring any dragons, and I’ve already met our new tea house proprietress.” His eyes momentarily cut to me, assessing, and then move back to Ash. “What could you possibly want?”
Ansel exudes a haughty brand of masculinity that probably drives a lot of women mad. Not me, though. He’s handsome, naturally, but his body language is anything but welcoming. He’s also about ten years my senior, and if I thought his sister was daunting, it’s nothing compared to the way this man’s impatient stare affects me.
My attention moves to the wand in Ansel’s hand. He holds it clenched in his fist like he’s thinking about turning Ash into a toad.
“We’re sorry to interrupt,” I say, not eager to make an enemy. “We can come back if this is a bad time…?”
“The damage is already done,” the sorcerer says curtly. “What do you want?”
“We’re looking for a dust pendant,” Ash says, not mincing any words.
Ansel’s eyebrows fly up. “I don’t know what you think I’m doing back here, but I?—”
“Can you make one?” Ash asks.
The sorcerer moves his green eyes to me again, scowling. “Why?”
“That’s none of your business,” the councilman says.
“It’s my business when you interrupt my work and start asking about unsavory magic.” Ansel frowns at me like I’m a bit slow. “Do you know what a dust pendant does?”
The man is intimidating. So intimidating, in fact, I can only manage a meek nod.
“You’re sure about that?”
