Page 47
Then slowly—
“Okay.”
The car turned right instead of left. My body wanted to move one way, but faint traces of familiarity took over. We turned, then turned again, slowing until we pulled in sharply and parked.
The car came to a stop. Rafe climbed out, then opened my door. For a second my body hesitated. Even he noticed. I forced myself to move, climbing out and waited for the thud of the car door.
Any change of vision?
Shadows shifted beside me.
No.
Movement stepped in front.
Distortion?
Steps echoed.
No.
The ding of the bell was different. Not what I remembered. I stepped inside and drew in a breath. The air was wrong. Too thin. Too clean. I searched for the cloying scent of old books and dust and moved deeper.
This one, Daddy?
Tiny fingers pulled a book from the shelf in my mind.
The warmth of a small hand in mine.
Then—
Smack.
My shoulder collided with something hard. Books fell to the floor beside me.
“Shelf, three o’clock, five and nine.” Rafe muttered. “You want the desk?”
“Yes.”
He moved. I tracked the sound, following it closer.
He cleared his throat.
“Can I help you?” The soft male tone was the only thing that was familiar. “Mr. Voss. It’s been a while”
“I’ll just be over here.” Rafe murmured beside me.
Shapes moved. The edges blurring as he stepped away.
“The Phantom of the Opera.”
“Yes… Sir, we have that.”
One nod is all I gave.
“From the Antiques?”
I stared. “Yes.”
