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“Dude!” Number 2’s bronzite colored eyes are wide in panic as he turns to his twin, his forest-green wings with gold tendrils fluttering in agitation. “She can see us!”
“Duh, I’m talking to you aren’t I?” I quip. What is going on here? These guys are clearly fae and far too corporeal to be spirits.
“I meant, how can you see our wings?” he demands. He’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head or something. Which, to be fair, has never happened to me, but I see things and this is Silver Springs after all.
“I’m half witch,” I tell them simply.
“Shit. I had no idea,” No.1 mutters.
I shrug, because why would he? I’ve never laid eyes on him before, and my shop name doesn’t exactly give me away to the non-supernatural community. I like blending into both worlds.
“So you’re not a con-artist? You really do have powers?” No.2 demands.
I manage to look deeply affronted and livid. I’m not acting; I could punch his smug face right now. Who is he to question what I can and can’t do?
“What are your names?” I ask.
“I’m Rowan,” number 1 says pointing to himself, then jerking a thumb toward his twin. “He’s Linden.” His personality is certainly warmer than his brother’s and I wonder if his face is too—or if I’m just imagining it. Rowan’s wings are a stunning inky-blue with purple veins running through. They’re mesmerising. Everything about the two of them is mesmerising. But I prefer Rowan. Or that’s what I’m firmly telling myself. Linden can go to hell.
“Well, Rowan, it was nice to meet you, even if the circumstances were crummy.” I pointedly ignore Linden because he’s been a bit of an ass, to be honest. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.” I grab my stuff and start heading for the shop in a hurry. The tingling at the back of my head has started, and the last thing I want is to have a vision in front of these two.
“Be seeing ya soon, Jasmine.” I do not like the way Linden says my name, at all. In fact, how does he even know my name? I shudder. Not if I can help it, I think.
“Jas,” Rowan calls out. I like the way the nickname sounds coming from his lips, in his gorgeous honeyed tones. I stop and turn back to meet his dark chocolate gaze. “Can I take you out for a drink sometime? You know, as a sorry for nearly killing you?”
“Maybe,” I call before racing inside with Batfink, a smile on my face. I shut the door, panting hard, back leaning against the cool glass, as I let my belongings slide to the ground. I stagger across the shop space, trying to make it to the chair before I’m engulfed by darkness.
