When Cassie finally returned to the shop, the digital clock hanging above the front door had just switched to 4:40 p.m. As she entered, she paused to acknowledge an elderly gentleman heading toward the entrance with a paper bag tucked under his arm.
"Afternoon, George." Cassie smiled warmly.
He tipped his weathered hat. "Afternoon, Miss Collins."
She stepped aside, letting him pass. "Picking up more incense for the missus?"
"Like clockwork." George laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "She's going to love the new scents you got in this week."
Holding the door for him, she chuckled lightly. "Selected just for her."
"You're too kind." Passing by her, he paused mid-stride. "By the way, her birthday's in three weeks. She hasn't been too shy about wanting some tarot cards. I didn't see any in stock?"
"Back order." Cassie nodded while making a mental note. "I'll do what I can to have some in for you to browse next week, okay?"
"Much obliged. Have a good day, Miss Collins." He waved as the afternoon heat followed him out.
"You as well." She returned the wave, then closed the door behind him.
Taking a deep breath, Cassie remained still for a moment as the cool air from the AC washed over her skin. An overwhelming crash of exhaustion hit—mostly mental fatigue from the day's fruitless endeavors. She'd wanted to bring good news to Angel and Charlotte when they returned, but the day had unfolded just as feared. There'd been little success.
The morning had been spent visiting several local magic shops, posing questions to their owners, and hoping for insights she might have missed. Unfortunately, unlike her genuine affinity for real magic, most others turned out to be charlatans—well-meaning, but frauds nonetheless.
After the morning's failed leads, she'd stopped by a café and ordered lunch. Half a sandwich and salad disappeared quickly before she ordered another sandwich to go, bringing it back to the shop for Davis.
Placing the bag on the counter, she noticed the stack of books had increased by almost a dozen, featuring titles she didn't recognize.
"What are these?" She hefted a thick, dark-brown hardbound book, reading its title aloud: "Mysteries of the Seven Rings of Hell."
Pulling the bag over to examine the contents, Davis nodded toward half a dozen FedEx boxes scattered near her pantry room. "Just after you left, we received the late-summer order. The cool thing is that most of the stock was books, so I've been checking them out while getting them scanned into the system."
The sigh that escaped her lips was louder and more frustrated than intended. Davis stopped rummaging in the bag, brown eyes widening behind his glasses.
"I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?"
"No." She shook her head quickly. "I didn't mean to sound so exasperated. I've just had a bad morning. I appreciate your initiative, but inventory is supposed to be my responsibility."
"I honestly don't mind, Cassie." He unwrapped his sandwich, the paper crinkling in the quiet shop.
"I know." Her smile was gentler now. "The last couple of days have been, to say the least, interesting."
"I don't know what's happening, but I can tell something's bothering you." Setting the wrapped sandwich on the counter, he leaned forward slightly. "Can I help in any way?"
"You already are," she assured him, "more than you know."
He was going above and beyond to help. She needed to step up her game.
"Take a break. I'll turn off the open sign when I leave, and you can re-open when you're done eating." She peered at the cluster of books, their spines creating a small mountain of knowledge. "And if you find anything interesting, that's great, but try to get some studying in as well. Okay?"
"I promise. You going back out?" Taking a grateful bite of the sandwich, he waited for her response.
"Yeah. I have one more place to try. I'll be back before five."
Davis, his mouth full, gave her a wave and a thumbs-up.
She smirked and returned the gesture. I'm going to miss that kid when he moves out West.
With lunch delivered to him, she'd decided to spend the afternoon having tea with her coven, picking their brains on demon summoning and memory spells.
When her sisters posed pointed questions about her curiosity, she dismissed them as research for a book she was considering writing. She cited her earlier complaint that many of the books she sold lacked genuine 'magic.'
It was the best excuse she could think of, but her sisters in the coven couldn't—or she suspected, wouldn't—provide anything useful. However, in that case, it was more her fault than theirs. She couldn't very well tell them a demon was living in her home, now could she? There were only so many tactful ways to ask about demon summonings and how they could go wrong without looking like you intended to do one yourself or knew of one that had already been done.
She hadn't learned much from them in those few hours, but at least it eliminated some options. Her mind was jumbled, a mix of personal need to help Charlotte and overwhelming curiosity about her. Never had she thought she would meet a demon in her lifetime, as most were known to be summoned for nefarious reasons.
Frustrated with the tangled web of thoughts, Cassie knew clearing her mind was essential for better focus. There was no better way to do that than to take some time to train.
Walking through the store, she greeted a few older ladies who were picking out incense, their voices a pleasant murmur in the background.
I'm going to have to double my stock this summer, she thought with amusement.
Approaching the counter, she saw Davis had his schoolbooks laid out, nose buried in one as he took notes. Good, she thought, then asked aloud, "Any luck with memory spells?"
Putting his pencil down in the crease between the pages, he pointed to a stack set aside. "I found four books with some chapters that touched on them. Most referred to crystals like the ones we have in the case."
"Thanks!" A few books, hmm. Something to read later. "You good until closing?"
"As if you have to ask." He smiled at her, pencil already returning to paper. "Go on, I got this."
"As if I had to ask." She parroted him with a smile, gathering her things. "Will do, boss. I'll be down before close."
Moving around the counter, she reached the side door, scooped up the new books, and headed upstairs. Once inside her apartment, she placed the books on the small side table by the door, then kicked off her tennis shoes and nudged them under the table.
Opening the small closet next to the front door, she selected a pair of soft cotton shoes and slipped them on. Pulling her blouse over her head, she draped it on the doorknob and unclasped her bra. A soft sigh of relief escaped as she peeled it away, the cool air refreshing against her skin. Choosing a comfortable cotton shirt, she dropped it over her shoulders and tugged it down.
Now prepared, she exited the apartment and made her way to the roof staircase. Once outside, she took a deep breath of the humid air and exhaled through pursed lips. She appreciated the humidity and its stickiness, viewing it as the yin to her usual yang of coolness and tranquility. It challenged her to move past environmental discomfort and focus instead on her chakras.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the makeshift walls adorned with beautiful oriental designs, she took a deep breath and approached her carefully arranged space. Created for privacy and solitude, the intricate patterns danced gently in the fading light—a serene backdrop for her martial arts practice.
Reaching for one of her bō staffs, which rested against the wall, its polished surface gleaming in the amber glow of dusk, she adjusted her stance with practiced precision. She positioned herself centrally between the walls, the familiar ritual already calming her scattered thoughts.
Grasping the bō in her right hand, she placed the end of the six-foot staff on the roof tiles near her feet, anchoring herself in the moment. A gentle wind wafted through the air, rustling the garments that still hung on the nearby clothesline, their soft fabric whispering to the evening breeze. The warm air washed over her as she exhaled slowly, allowing her breath to flow with the breeze.
With a deliberate crack of her neck, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the tranquility. After taking one more deep breath, she began to move, practicing one of her favorite techniques: Taiji.
It was more than just physical exercise—it was a ritual of calmness that not only soothed her mind but also harmonized with her mystical powers. The graceful movements provided focus, guiding her into a state of meditation, especially crucial when her energies flared, as they had throughout the intense afternoon.
She lifted the staff, allowing it to fall gracefully into her free palm. A warrior's dance began, her movements a blend of art and combat, taking slow, wide swings that painted the air with precision. Each step was intentional as she moved forward and then backward, feeling the energy flow through her.
Turning 180° with an elegant sweep of the bō, she imagined herself engaged in a slow-motion battle with an invisible opponent. The familiar choreography centered her scattered thoughts.
As she dropped the end of the staff, weight shifting fluidly, she employed her body's natural grace to pull it back up, letting it slide effortlessly through her fingers. The jabs she executed were sharp and precise, each one choreographed in her mind as though marking the vital spots of her unseen target.
For thirty minutes, she continued exploring various movements, each mimicking a combination of offensive and defensive stances. She typically carried out this workout with her eyes closed. Each movement executed with such precision and consistency that she could nearly detach from her body, letting her mind drift freely with thoughts, ideas, and problems.
And oh, what a problem she now faced: a demon with forgotten memories lived in her apartment. A demon showing growing affection for her brother, and though she sensed no evil intent in Charlotte, she was still a demon with an unknown past.
Who is she really? Where did she come from? How powerful could she become? Are we at risk by letting her stay here?
All of these thoughts kept nagging at the back of her mind, persistent as potent summer humidity. She needed more information and hoped the new books might reveal some clues.
She already knew a great deal about crystals, their properties, and the magic they sometimes contained. Still, she'd never delved deeply into the memory aspect of them concerning amnesia and demons. Who knew what mysteries any of those bound texts held between their pages?
As her internal alarm signaled the end of her workout, she returned the bō to its starting position and took rhythmic breaths to slow her heartbeat. The meditation had mostly helped, and she appreciated how much calmer she felt now.
The next order of business was a quick shower, followed by a review of the books Davis had given her to see if any information on crystals would inspire her. After that, she'd help him close the store, pay him double for his efforts, and send him on his way. By the time she completed those tasks, it would be close to six o'clock, when Angel and Charlotte were expected home.
She hoped she'd have some good news for them by then.