Emma
I peered up at the windows of Carol’s shop with a sinking heart. Something was going on in there. Even I could sense it. And it was good, whatever it was. Positive emotions like hope and happiness flooded over me as magic that humans probably—hopefully—couldn’t see lit up the windows.
It was like a mini fireworks display was going on inside. Or maybe just someone who had an obsession with sparklers. Either way, the emotions that were filling the place and pouring out of it seemed to create little bursts of fire and energy.
Throwing my keys in my purse, I got out and shut the door, then pressed the little button on the handle to lock the car. I really hated walking in there to give one of my best friends the news I had to give her. It took all my willpower to do it.
I even hesitated right outside the door, willing myself to go in, but finding that I was having a hard time taking the next step. The last thing I wanted was to destroy the good vibes that were coming from inside.
Carol’s magic stopped suddenly when I walked through the first door. The glow in the air seemed to fade like an old light being turned off. As soon as she saw it was me, she spun in a circle with little sparks coming out of her fingers.
Oh, man. She really was in a good mood. I was honestly a little surprised that the sparks were coming directly from her. She had never displayed that kind of magic before that I could remember. I knew she could work spells and do other general witchy stuff, but her talent lay in textiles. Fabric, yarn, ribbon, and all that. Seeing her create fire? It seemed incongruous.
“Hey,” I called as I walked in and watched her twirl. Her skirt flared out, as did her light brown hair, which was actually starting to get long, at least for her. “What’s going on?” As if I didn’t know. I gave her a smile, though it felt like it was too tight, to try and offset any tension that may have bled through in my voice.
She just grinned at me, her smile so wide I was actually worried that her face might split in two. I doubted that she even sensed my tension since I was pretty sure the reason she hadn't replied was that she was too happy to put it into words. It made me think of how I felt after Daniel and I finally sealed the deal, in more ways than one.
The idea of taking that happiness away made me nauseous. I had to do what was best for her though, even if I hated it.
The sound of her sewing machine, the antique one she loved, filled the air, creating a melody with two sets of knitting needles. “No crochet?” I asked.
She chuckled. “I got in an order for a knitted blanket, so I’ve got two knit orders going.”
I settled down into one of her overstuffed, comfy chairs, dropping my purse onto the floor next to my feet. “You seem like you’re in a good mood.” Maybe she’d tell me about Bryan’s visit so I wouldn't have to admit that Deva and I had been talking about her. “Something happen?”
Carol’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as she plopped down beside me. “Oh, shoot. I can’t keep it to myself.”
“What do you mean?” I, of course, knew exactly what she meant. Did it excuse me not giving up the whole truth because I was afraid of hurting her?
I sure hoped so.
“Bryan,” she whispered. “He’s back, and we went out last night.” The stars in her eyes could’ve lit up a night sky.
“Oh?” I asked weakly. “How’d it go?” Nausea rolled in my belly, and I felt green around the gills, and not with jealousy.
“It was…” she shook her head, though her smile only got bigger. “Not to sound too corny, but it was magical.” With a laugh, she threw her head back against the headrest of the chair. “After he left, all that time, I thought maybe I’d imagined our connection. That maybe I’d been the only one to feel it after all.”
When she looked at me again, there were actual tears in her eyes. “I thought I was crazy and desperate. I know other people see me like that. But I was starting to believe it about myself.”
“No,” I cried. “Nobody thought that.” Carol had always been a romantic. Never desperate. She was the dreamer, the one who inspired the rest of us, or at least me. She never gave up hope, always believed that what she had experienced with Bryan was the real thing, and that was what I always thought magic was, until I found out that magic was actually real.
She sniffled and blinked back the tears. “No, I know. But deep inside, I really was starting to think I was crazy. Now I know I wasn’t. Now I know we were meant to be together. As soon as we’re around each other, it’s like kismet. Something sparks and everything falls into place.” Her mouth opened like she wanted to keep going but she shook her head, and I got the sense that whatever she'd been about to say had been too private to share, at least just yet.
I scrambled, trying to think of how to tell her the information I had, but just as I was about to say something she kept on talking, not even realizing I was trying to cut in. As much as I wanted to hear all about it, everything she'd said so far was like a knife to the heart, making my job of telling her what had been going on even harder.
“He’s the one,” Carol whispered. “I know it now. Without a doubt. He always has been.” The serene expression on her face faded and she fixed me with a level glare. “He’s taking over Cliff and Rodger’s old law office in town. Just a block down from here.”
Since losing Cliff and Rodger, our town no longer had a lawyer, so I guess that was at least good news. “Well, that’s—”
Carol held up her hand. A clear gesture for me to stop, which I did. “I don’t need you guys trying to bring me down. I don't want to hear any warnings or doom and gloom.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “Okay?”
“Okay, but I—”
“What?” she asked flatly. She raised an eyebrow at me, clearly daring me to defy what she'd just explicitly told me not to do.
What could I say? It was bad enough I had this news to tell her, but even worse that I was willing to chicken out after she put her foot down. I should have forged ahead but I couldn't find the words I needed to do so. “Did you tell him about being a witch?” I finally asked weakly.
Her eager nod was reassuring. “And he told me all about being a vampire and why he went out of town before. We were totally honest with each other. It was like the one thing that had been keeping us apart was removed and we were completely free to be with each other and talk to each other the way I'd always wanted.”
“Hello,” someone called through the first set of doors.
Oh, crap. I knew that voice. Sure enough, seconds later, Bryan walked through the door with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. Bright yellows, reds, and pinks seemed to light up his face and in turn light up Carol's. “Hello, ladies,” he called. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I said quietly, but Carol jumped to her feet. She brushed the fabric of her skirt smooth and pulled her sweater straight. Looking at it now I realized it was probably one she'd made. Definitely, one she was proud of judging by the way she was preening. It would be adorable if I wasn't so worried about Bryan being a murderer.
“Wonderful,” she gushed. “Thank you.” She took the bouquet from Bryan and stuck her face in it. "They smell amazing and they're beautiful!"
"Just like you," Bryan replied, as smooth as butter.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” I said and pushed to my feet, my back was still sore from the nymph escapade so I couldn't jump up quite as quickly as I may have wanted to. “I have to run over…” I faded my voice out. Not a big deal considering the two of them were staring at each other all goo-goo eyed. Neither of them heard me talk. I wasn't even sure they were aware of my presence anymore.
Reaching out, I put my hand on Carol’s shoulder. “Call me later. We need to talk. Seriously.”
She glanced at me, her eyes seeming to have trouble actually leaving Bryan's face. Luckily, she focused on me long enough to nod her head and murmur an agreement. “I’ll call you.”
Leaving the two of them to their own devices, I hurried out to my car. At least I hadn't been telling Carol when Bryan walked in. I could only imagine how that would have gone over. The guy you think is your soulmate asked me to kill someone and when I refused, I think he killed the guy himself. Sorry about that.
Not that I knew that was true for sure. Actually, I really hoped it wasn’t.
Geesh. What a predicament. My heart wanted to believe the best about Bryan, but my head said that a man who threatened to kill someone, and then the target of their anger ended up dead, logically had to be a suspect.
Whether I liked it or not.