Agave Kiss by Ann Aguirre

Author:Ann Aguirre
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-02-03T05:00:00+00:00

Unlikely Heroes

The arcane shop where Booke bought his supplies was housed in an Oriental Home Furnishings shop. Or that was the front. If you had the fortitude to shake off the aversion spell, you progressed to the real goods in the back. This time, I couldn’t see the runes pulsing, but I felt them; and without my mother’s magick, I had a strong inclination to get out before we ran into the creepy old woman again.

Booke grabbed my arm, forceful when he had to be. “None of that,” he cautioned me in an undertone. “We’ve a job to do.”

“Yes, sir.”

He cut me a chiding look for the sarcasm and led the way toward the private sales floor. Though he’d never been to this shop before, apparently he was familiar with the premise. The room was filled with short shelves covered in esoteric supplies: wands, chalices, athames, and spell components, cunningly arrayed. There was a young woman at the counter this time, and I let out a small sigh of relief. Not subtle, it seemed, as the clerk focused on me.

“You’re glad not to see my great-aunt.” She had strawberry blond curls, blue eyes, and she hardly looked old enough to be out of high school, but something told me her baby face was deceptive.

So I didn’t bother to dissemble. “Maybe a little.”

“She’s retired now. In recent years she’d gotten a bit . . . odd, which makes for poor customer service.”

Too many demons wandering in and out of her head, I thought, but didn’t say so out loud.

The girl went on, “I’m Karen. If you need anything specific, have questions, or can’t find what you’re looking for, let me know. If we don’t stock it, I’m sure I can special order what you need.” There was a reassuring solidity behind her prettiness, making me think I wouldn’t converse with any demons through her anytime soon.

“I have a list,” Booke cut in.

His accent made Karen take notice, as did most Texan females. She brought him colorful powders, stored in glass vials, small ceramic figures, various herbs and liquids. It was like watching an alchemist prepare to transmute lead into gold—while carrying on a courtly flirtation. At the end of the transaction, she slipped him a business card, and I didn’t think it was for special orders. I grinned at him as we went out to the Pinto, parked at a meter a block away. We passed Popeyes on the way, so the air smelled like fried chicken and biscuits. He didn’t notice, too busy smirking.

I teased gently, “You should be ashamed, the way they tumble for you. What about Dolores?”

“She and I shared an amicable, somewhat calisthenic evening, not to be repeated.” He held up a hand as I swung into the car, forestalling my commentary. “At her request, not mine. She knows I’m leaving and isn’t interested in playing at a long-distance romance.”

“I’m glad you were up front with her.”

“I don’t lie to women to get what I want. I’m not a scoundrel,” he said in an aggrieved tone, but his word choice made me laugh.

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