Immediately I relaxed at the tinkling of the bell and the scent of cinnamon coffee. The soft buzz of the charm-detection spell was a mild alarm reacting to my bad-mojo amulet. I took my hat off, and Jenks flew from my scarf to land on a nearby rack and stretch his wings.
"It's nice in here," he said, and I smiled as he ruined his tough-guy image by standing on top of dried rose petals and using the word "nice."
I undid my scarf and took off my shades, scanning the shelves. I liked earth-charm shops, and this was one of the better ones, right downtown, in the middle of Cincy. I'd been here a few times and had found the clerk to be helpful and the selection more than adequate, with a few surprises and the odd pricey item I didn't have in my garden. I'd rather buy local than use mail order. If I was lucky, they might have that red-and-white stone crucible. Worry pinched my brow at the thought of Pierce with Al, but it wasn't as if I could do the spell if he was trapped in the ever-after.
Or could I? I thought suddenly, my fingers, running over a stand of planting seeds, going still. I'd be willing to bet Al hadn't given Pierce a body yet, in effect preventing him from tapping a line and becoming more dangerous than he already was. If he was still a ghost, maybe the charm could pull him back from the ever-after the same way it did from the hereafter. Ever-after, hereafter. What's the difference? And if I did that-Al would come to me.
A smile overcame me, and excitement zinged down to my toes. That was how I was going to get Al to grant me some respect. If I snatched Pierce from him, Al would come to me. I'd be in a position of power, whether real or pretend. New Year's Eve was tomorrow night. All I needed was the recipe to make sure I did it right! I didn't even need to tap a freaking line!
Excited, I turned to the door. I needed that book. Robbie. Suddenly wanting to be somewhere else, I jiggled on my feet, settling back into an anxious bother. I'd see Robbie tonight, and I wouldn't leave until I had that book and everything that went with it.
Jenks zipped around a display, almost running into me. He was spilling a bright copper glow and I figured he had found something. Behind him, the woman next to the register looked up from her newspaper, tucking her straight purple-dyed hair back behind an ear as she eyed Jenks's sparkles. "Let me know if you need any help," she said, and I wondered if her hair was really that enviably straight or if it was a charm.
"Thanks, I will," I said, then held out my hand for Jenks to land on. He was darting back and forth like an excited kid. He must have found something he thought would help Matalina.
"Over here," he said, zipping off the way he had come.
Smiling at the woman behind the counter, I followed Jenks's trail of slowly sifting gold sparkles. My boots clunked on the dark hardwood as I passed the racks of herbs to find him at a nasty-looking weed hanging in the corner beside the gnarly lengths of witch hazel.
"This one," he said, hovering over the sparsely leafed, mangy-looking sprig of gray.
I eyed him, then the tansy. Right next to it was a much nicer sheaf. "Why don't you want this one?" I asked, touching it.
Jenks buzzed harshly. "It's hothouse grown. The wild one is more potent."
"Gotcha." Being careful not to break anything off, I set it gently into one of the woven baskets stacked at an end cap. Satisfied, Jenks finally parked on my shoulder. I slowly headed to the front, lingering over a pouch of dandelion seed and smiling. We had a little time yet. I should ask her about the carbonic wax.
The hushed sound of the clerk on the phone drew my attention. She was arguing with someone, and Jenks buzzed his wings nervously.
"What's going on?" I asked softly as I pretended to look at a display of rare-earth muds. Holy crap, they were expensive, but they were certified and everything.
"I'm not sure," he said. "Something doesn't feel right all of a sudden."
Much as I hated to admit it, I agreed. But the question of what I'd done wrong with the locator amulet still remained, and I headed to the register.
"Hi," I said brightly. "I've been having some trouble getting a locator potion to work. Do you know how fresh the carbonic wax has to be? I've got some, but it's like three years old. You don't think a salt dip would ruin it, do you?" She stared at me, like a deer caught in the headlights, and I added, "I'm working a run. Do you need to see my runner's license?"
"You're Rachel Morgan, aren't you," she said. "No one else has a pixy with them."
A faint feeling of apprehension slid under my skin at how she'd said it, but I smiled. "Yup. This is Jenks." Jenks buzzed a wary greeting, and she said nothing. Uncomfortable, I added, "You really have a great store."
I set the tansy on the counter, and she backed away, looking almost embarrassed. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "Will you please leave?"
My eyebrows rose, and I went hot. "Excuse me?"
"What the hell?" Jenks whispered.
The young woman, eighteen at the most, fumbled for the phone, holding it like a threat. "I'm asking you to leave," she said, voice firm. "I'm calling the I.S. if you don't."
Sparkles dripping, Jenks got between us. "What for? We didn't do nothing!"
"Look," I said, not wanting an incident, "can we pay for this first?" I nudged the basket, and she took it. My blood pressure eased. It lasted all of three seconds-until she set the basket out of my reach, behind her.
"I'm not selling you anything," she said, eyes darting to tell me she was uncomfortable. "I have the right to refuse anyone service, and you need to leave."
I stared at her, not understanding. Jenks was at a loss. But then my eyes fell on the newspaper with yesterday's story of the riot at the mall. There was a new headline. BLACK MAGIC AT CIRCLE MALL-THREE IN HOSPITAL. And suddenly I got it.
I reeled, putting a hand to the counter for balance. The university returning my check. The hospital refusing to treat me on the witch floor. Cormel telling me he had to speak on my behalf. Tom saying he'd be around if I wanted to talk. They were blaming me for the riot. They were publicly blaming me, and calling it black magic!
"You're shunning me?" I exclaimed, and the woman went red. My eyes flicked to the paper, then back to her. "Who? Why?" But the why was kind of obvious.
Her chin lifted, the embarrassment gone now that I'd figured it out. "Everyone."
"Everyone?" I yelped.
"Everyone," she echoed. "You can't buy anything here. You might as well leave."
I retreated from the counter, my arms slack at my side. I've been shunned? Someone must have seen me with Al in the garden, seen him abduct Pierce. Had it been Tom? The freaking bastard! Had he gotten me shunned so he'd have a better shot at Mia?
"Rache," Jenks said, close to my ear but sounding faraway and distant. "What does she mean? Leave? Why do we have to leave?"
Shocked, I licked my lips and tried to figure it out. "I've been shunned," I said, then looked at the tansy. It might as well have been on the moon. I wasn't going to get it, or anything else in the store. Or the next. Or the next. I felt sick.
I shook my head in disbelief. "This isn't right," I said to the clerk. "I've never hurt anyone. I've only helped people. The only one who gets hurt is me." Oh my God, what am I going to tell Marshal? If he talks to me again, he might be shunned, too. Lose his job.
My demon mark seemed heavy on my foot and wrist, and I tugged my sleeves down. Red-faced, the clerk dropped the tansy in the trash because I'd touched it. "Get out," she said.
I couldn't seem to find enough air. Jenks wasn't much better, but he at least found his voice. "Look, you lunker," he said, pointing at her and dripping red sparkles that puddled on the counter. "Rachel isn't a black witch. The paper is printing trash. It was the banshee that started the riot, and Rachel needs this stuff to help the FIB catch her!"
The woman said nothing. I put a hand to my stomach. Oh God. I didn't want to spew in here. I'd been shunned. It wasn't a death sentence, like it had been two hundred years ago, but it was a statement that what I was doing was not approved of. That no one would help me if I needed it. That I was a bad person.
Numb, my grip tightened on the counter. "Let's go," I whispered, turning to the door.
Jenks's wings were a harsh clatter. "You need this stuff, Rache!"
I shook my head. "She won't let us buy it." I swallowed. "No one will."
"What about Matalina?" he said, panic icing his voice.
My air slipped from me, and I turned back to the counter. "Please," I said, Jenks's wings making my hair tickle my neck. "His wife is ill. The tansy will help. Just let us buy this one thing, and I'll never come back. It's not for me."
Her head shook no. All her fear was gone, washed away by the confidence she found when she realized I wasn't going to give her trouble. "There are places for witches like you," she said tartly. "I suggest you find them."
She meant the black market. It wasn't to be trusted, and I wouldn't seek it out. Damn it, I had been shunned! No witch would sell to me. No witch would trade with me. I was alone. Absolutely alone. Shunning was a tradition that stretched back before the days of the pilgrims, and it was 100 percent effective; one witch couldn't grow, find, or make everything. And once shunned, it was seldom revoked.
Her chin lifted. "Get out or I'll call the I.S., for harassment."
I stared at her, believing she'd do it. Denon would love that. Slowly I pulled my hand off the counter.
"Come on, Rachel," Jenks said. "I probably have some tansy under the snow somewhere. If you don't mind getting it for me."
"It's wet," I said, bewildered. "It might be moldy."
"It will be better than the crap they sell here," he shot back, flipping the woman off as he flew backward to the door.
Feeling unreal, I followed him. I wouldn't be able to check anything out of the library either. This was so not fair!
I didn't feel Jenks snuggle in between my scarf and my neck. I didn't remember opening the door or the cheerful tingling of the bells. I didn't remember walking to my car. I didn't remember waiting for traffic before I edged into the street. Suddenly, though, I was standing at the door to my car with my keys in my hand, the bright sun gleaming on the red paint, making me squint.
I blinked, going still. My motions slow and deliberate, I stuck the key in the lock and opened it. I stood there a moment with my arm on the fabric roof, trying to figure it out. The sun was just as bright, the wind just as crisp, but everything was different. Inside, something was broken. Trust in my fellow witches, maybe? The belief that I was a good person, even if there was black on my soul?
I had an appointment in twenty minutes, but I had to sit for a while, and I didn't know if the coffee shop on the tower's first floor would serve me. Word of a shunning traveled fast. Slowly I got in and shut the door. Outside, a truck rumbled past where I'd been moments before.
I was shunned. I wasn't a black witch, but I might as well have been.