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Fortune was watching him too, from the top of the shelves directly behind him.

The parrot had been creeping closer to him ever since the first shy customers approached. She’d started watching from her pole near the registers, then from the rafters in the mythology section shelves, and now, as Tempest watched, Fortune hopped down next to Dan on the signing table itself. She was, at least, keeping a polite distance from the nearest customer.

“Shoo, you stupid bird!” Barnabas hissed, waving a nervous hand at the parrot. Fortune lowered her beak and fixed him with a withering glare.

“I don’t know why the girls don’t like me.” Fortune did a perfect impression of a sniveling Barnabas. “I’m such a great catch!” She punctuated her commentary with a squawk that sounded a lot like laughter.

Barnabas blushed crimson but didn’t dare say another word.

Dan bit his lip as he finished signing his name in a book. Then he turned to greet the parrot.

“You must be the famous shop mascot, Fortune?” He smiled as he addressed her. “Nice to meet you! I’m honored that you’ve chosen to join me at my table.” He held out his hand for her to sniff and Fortune hopped onto it.

The crowd tittered. Barnabas inched his chair back from the table.

“How about you hang out here and help me sign the books?” Dan tilted his head towards the brass sphinx trophy that he’d brought. It was the same as the one on the cover. He’d placed it atop a small pyramid of books at the center of the table. “It would be helpful if you repeated people’s names for me.”

“Happy to help, Dan Wilder! Whatever you need, Dan Wilder!” Fortune imitated Tempest’s best customer service voice now. She flapped her wings twice, shook out her feathers and hopped onto the statue.

Now it was Tempest’s turn to blush. Suddenly Dan Wilder looked up and directed his gaze in her direction. His eyes swept back and forth as if he was scanning for something. There was something almost predatory about the way his body was so at ease, while his eyes and mind worked like a meticulous camera. It sent prickles skittering up her spine and across her limbs.

When his eyes met and held hers for a moment, she felt a tiny spark. Then the prickles planted themselves, raising rows of goosebumps.

A group of owls is called a parliament.

A group of flamingos is called a flamboyance.

A group of crows is called a murder.

A group of jellyfish is called a smack.

A group of cats is called a clowder.

She reached for her locket, rubbing her thumb across the slightly raised monogram. The motion soothed her. When she looked back up, Dan was back to signing books again. She was being ridiculous. The author was not actually a predator, and she was hardly his prey. She still wanted to meet him and now was as good a time as any.

She dashed back to the break room to retrieve her copy of his book. But halfway across the floor, Archibald grabbed her elbow. He had a sour expression on his face.

“Have you seen the stockroom?” he asked. “Boxes everywhere! The Jessica Rosenberg shipment came in yesterday and nobody’s processed it yet. People are eager to get their hands on those books!”

“I’ll do it after the signing.”

“Clement wanted it done by today.”

“Clement isn’t here today,” Tempest reminded him. Archibald pinched her elbow harder.

“But I am here, and he left me in charge.”

Tempest glanced back at the signing table, where a group of women in decorated biker jackets were nodding at something Dan Wilder just said. One of them stopped and asked the person in line behind them to take a picture of them with Dan and Fortune. Dan stood up and Fortune seemed thrilled to be included. She spread her wings and held her head high.

Tempest looked up at Archibald, and then back down at her book. There was no point in telling her stepbrother how much she wanted to get it signed. It would only give him something else to mock her with. She would find another way.

“Fine.” She sighed.

She’d have to be quick at this next task. If she could get Priya to help her with a few unboxing charms, there would still be time for her to slip into the end of the line.

Tempest was finally finished with the display a few minutes before five. She made her way back out to the floor. But the table was empty.

“Dandelion Wilder is taking a brief break. He will be back shortly!” Fortune addressed the crowd of purple wrist-banded fans who were forming a line. A sign on the table said the same. Tempest straightened the pyramid of books on the table and snuck Fortune a snack from her pocket.