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Julian was frowning at his phone as we walked through the parking lot.

He waited until we were safely seated in his navy Volvo with the engine started before he turned to check that I had my seatbelt on.

“I need to make one quick stop to pick up something for Miles. Are you okay, or do you want to head right back?”

“I-I’m fine.” I nodded, curling my hands into my lap. Why wouldn’t I be? “What about you?”

“What about me?” he raised his eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Is there something bothering you?” I tried to read his face for any hint of his thoughts, but he seemed as mellow as ever.

Julian tilted his head. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” Maybe I could help.

“Well…” He seemed unsure but pressed forward. “What was that about earlier?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, tensing my shoulders.

“Damen told me that you were really upset,” Julian said .

Well, obviously. “I was just about to be kidnapped,” I reminded him.

“Yes, but—” There was a calm confidence to him as he touched my hand. “—did they do anything besides what you’d told Damen already?”

A chill passed through me, and I pulled my hands away. “L-like what?”

“Like,” he continued, and I didn’t have to look at him to know that he was frowning. But there was no way that I wanted to have this conversation. Still, he said, “Like, did they touch or hurt you in other ways?”

“N-no,” I answered, but who knew what might have happened? “They didn’t.”

I could feel his gaze on me a moment longer, and my pulse raced under his scrutiny.

“Okay,” he said finally. “You would tell me?” It was almost a question, but the way he said it sounded more like he expected me to promise.

“Sure.” I shrugged. “If it was something important.”

I peeked at him. There was an unsettled note in his eyes before he finally nodded. He turned on the radio. “Let’s go. This won’t take long.”

I nodded once more and touched my temple to the window. From the corner of my eyes, I saw him tap his finger against the steering wheel, almost as if he were trying to think of something to say, but then he stopped, frowning as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I allowed the mood of Julian’s eerie music to fill the space until he parallel parked in front of a row of buildings.

“We’re here.” Julian’s statement pulled me out of my musing, and the sad music ended as he turned off the vehicle.

I glanced out the window and studied the row of quaint, brick storefronts.

Wrought-iron fences lined the stone sidewalks, and displays showcased clothing, baked goods, restaurants, and—directly beside me—a plant store.

“Where are we?” I asked as Julian opened my door.

The numbness that had spread throughout my chest began to fade.

The building had a bright green door and a sign with the words The Ivy Garden in prominent cursive on a hanging shingle over a bay window.

Outside were wooden tables displaying various growing things in little clay pots.

I loved it.

“We’re at a witch shop,” Julian answered as he helped me stand. “It’s owned by Hanah—Miles’s Jiangjun.”

I glanced at him and squeezed my jacket, which I was holding, against my chest. “Hanah?”

“Hanah Grier,” he replied. “You know her, right?”

I nodded. “She—she’s my adoptive sister. She’s older than me, and I’ve only ever seen her a few times.” And not recently. Arguments between my parents and her led to Hanah storming out one night, never to return.

“It’s possible that she may have no idea who you are,” Julian said, surveying the shop. “She doesn’t get along with her parents, and I’m almost entirely positive they knew.”

“Maybe,” I ventured. “Do you think she’s here today?”

Julian shook his head. “Normally, she works on the weekend and has someone else run the shop otherwise. But she lives on the second floor. I’ve no idea if she’s home or not, though.”

The knot in my stomach loosened. I wasn’t in the mood for this meeting quite yet. As my tension faded, the products themselves began to call to me.

“It’s cute,” I told Julian. When he didn’t start following me, I grabbed his hand. “Let’s go see what she has.” Already, I’d noticed some non-native species in the window .

We stepped through the door, and I made a beeline to the inside display.

“Just give me a minute.” Julian grinned. I released him to touch some of the baby lavender. “I need to go to the counter to pick up Miles’s order,” he told me.

My heart sank as I stared at him. I’d already placed one hand in the lavender and the other in the marigold. How could we leave now? I hadn’t touched everything yet.

Julian noticed, shaking his head. “You can stay here and play with the flowers. I’ll be right back. Just don’t wander away.”

Why would I leave this glorious place?

“Thank you!” I told him, walking to the other end of the table and leaving him behind.

He chuckled but didn’t say another word as he left me by the window.

After a few moments, the desire to explore almost overrode the contentment of remaining with the cutest rosebuds known to mankind. To be honest, I was tempted to steal them. It would be so easy. The door was right there, and Julian’s car was nearby.

Didn’t Miles say that fae were held to a different standard of rule?

Regardless, I would still feel guilty. I didn’t want to be a bad person. There was no price on them, but it didn’t matter anyway. I had no money.

My only income had been my potential earnings from house-sitting and my allowance from my parents and Finn—both of which were bound to be history at this point.

This sucked. I had to think of a way to earn a living.

My mood darkened as I trudged down the aisle.

A small, blonde woman, not watching where she was going, was moving toward me.

Her focus was on the paper-bagged bundle in her arms instead.

When it was clear that she hadn’t noticed me, I moved to stand against the plants, but it wasn’t enough, and her shoulder bumped against mine.

The impact caused her to jostle her arms.

She gasped, stumbling slightly, and stopped the bag from falling. Once she’d regained her balance, she turned to me, her eyes flashing. “Be careful! You could have broken this!”

She was right. I should have made sure she had more room. “I’m sorry—”

“You ran into her,” a familiar voice interjected. “You should be the one apologizing.”

Norman stood some feet away, leaning against the end of the row.

“You’re still stalking me?” The woman groaned, glaring at the redheaded man. “I told you I don’t need your help.”

Norman shrugged. “I’ve been given a job to do, and by the powers that be, I will perform that job to the best of my ability. I won’t risk losing my position because you won’t cooperate.”

Wow, Norman had been busy. And not only that, but he also seemed to hate this lady more than he hated me. In fact, I was almost touched that he kind of stood up for me just now. Perhaps our working relationship wasn’t doomed after all.

“I don’t care who told you to follow me.” The woman—who could only be Michelle Nolan—narrowed her eyes as she hugged the package to her chest. “And even if I happen to be targeted next, that’s my business.”

Norman crossed his arms. “Is that what you think?”

I glanced between them. Norman looked annoyed, and Michelle was angry. Perhaps this was my opportunity to get on Norman’s good side.

Turning my attention to Michelle, I braced myself to play the role of mediator.

“Damen did tell him to follow you,” I explained. “I was there. They care about people and want to protect them. Think about it this way: Norman is Damen’s sidekick. If you help, you’ll see justice prevail.”

Michelle was unimpressed. “I still don’t care.” She turned from us and moved toward the door. “Stay away,” she called back, addressing Norman.

Norman didn’t respond to her, nor did he follow her.

Instead, he was staring at me as if I’d grown another head.

I stepped back. “What?”

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” He sounded incredulous but not hostile. “Or are you that na?ve? I don’t know what to think.”

What did he mean? Although this sudden camaraderie made sense, considering his feelings toward his employer. It appeared my defense of Damen had touched his heart.

And why had I helped him? Clearly, Norman was the better assistant. Yet that didn’t feel right.

If anyone had the right to work with Damen, it was me.

Even so, as I studied the man, I couldn’t see myself hating him—not like Bryce. Instead, I felt sad for him and wasn’t sure why.

“You know what’s really annoying?” Norman asked. “Despite your weepy face and grating insecurity, I’m finding that I can’t dislike you. Imagine that.”

“I know.” I tugged at the sleeve of my jacket.

Norman and I were alone in the front of the store. The last time we’d interacted, we’d been with others. However, even though I couldn’t dislike him, I was near my limit for the day.

I could devise a plan to impress him later. “Michelle Nolan is gone,” I offered as a distraction. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”

Norman, still studying me with a serious expression, only scoffed. “Don’t worry yourself. I already have. I’m well within range. ”

My anxiety vanished, curiosity taking its place. “What is it?”

Norman raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging. “What is what?”

“Your shikigami!” I asked. “Is it a bird, like Kasai? Is there an onmyoji school to teach you how to deal with everything?”

Of course, there had to be. Lessons, a boot camp. It must be glorious.

Instead of being happy, Norman gave me a dark look. “You’ve seen his shikigami?”

“Um…” I didn’t think it was supposed to be a secret.

“What else do you know?” Norman watched me with suspicion. “What did he say about me? Is he still trying to replace me?”

Was he? I couldn’t imagine why. “Why would he replace you?”

“Because he doesn’t want anyone potentially outranking his precious brother,” Norman growled. “He lets him get away with murder.”