Page 4 of Lunar Desires (Celestial Magic #2)

Drake slid an arm around my waist, facing Molly. “I’ll explain everything.”

“I know you will, hun.” She set off down a narrow corridor, exposed floorboards creaking beneath her.

We followed.

There were posters of various rock bands plastered on the walls, the ceilings painted a pure white. Ahead was a door leaning into the main shop, from what I could gather. To my right was a closed door, and a curved staircase sat on my left.

Molly led us down the stairs.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Drake asked.

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Getting better by the minute.”

I went down the stairs first, making good use of the rail.

Drake stayed hot on my heels, his breathing hitched.

Afraid. I wanted to turn around and give him a reassuring hug.

Yeah, this was a terrifying situation, but we were okay.

We’d got away and into this safe space because of him.

And he needed to know how much I appreciated that.

Later.

Hug him later.

Another room filled with comic books greeted us at the bottom of the stairs. The goblin crouched, running her fingers along the weathered spines of some omnibus editions on a bottom shelf.

Click. Click. Click . The bookshelf vanished into the floor, revealing a door with peeling black paint.

Molly gave me a smile then opened the door, disappearing inside.

Drake placed his hand on the base of my spine, encouraging me forward.

“What is this place?” I asked, my throat as dry as sand.

“It’s a safehouse for the needy,” he responded. “Me and Molly go way back.”

“That we do,” the goblin said from inside the secret room. “Not quite besties, but good friends for sure.”

For a moment, a flutter of panic forced me to stop. I glanced about, strangled by anxiety. I trusted Drake and his judgment, especially considering his friendship with Molly. Going way back with someone counted for something, right?

Okay. We were fine here. Safer than out there. My anxiety ebbed, my instincts telling me we were good for a bit.

Check me out, being all vigilant. There was definitely grit in my sparkle now. Not enough to dull it, but enough to make me think. People didn’t get to have trust handed over to them, no matter who they were.

Grit and blood everywhere…

I shuddered, flashing back momentarily to killing my uncle. Or not killing him, I should say.

Grit and blood…

“Riley?” Drake said gently.

He pulled me back from a panic attack. “I’m… I just really need to sit down.”

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” Molly announced cheerfully.

She stood beside a pink three-seater sofa. Behind her was a black kitchen work surface with a sink at its center and cupboards above it. There was a kettle, microwave, and biscuit tin spread across it—all the same shade of pink.

A second door led to a tiny bathroom with a small sink and toilet, slightly obscured by a half-open, pink curtain.

The walls and ceiling were covered in rock star posters again, and a TV on brackets hung in the left corner, playing CCTV images of the shop and the street outside.

The witchcops continued to patrol.

“Bad day for business,” the goblin complained. “Forced everyone inside or out of Lower Marsh due to an incident at Waterloo.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got customers due to collect some big orders today.”

“Lower Marsh?” I said.

“Name of the street, babycakes.”

Molly filled the kettle, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Are you having doubts about me?”

I knew for a fact I blanched with horror. “I… What?”

“It’s completely fine if you are, babycakes.” She flicked the switch on the kettle. “I get it. You have every right to be cautious.”

I rubbed at my throat. “Sorry. I mean… Well…” Crapping hell. “What I mean to say is I did for a moment. But Drake trusts you and…” I trailed off there.

Drake touched my hand as if in thanks.

The goblin shook her head. “Never be sorry for questioning anything.” Her smile lit up her face.

I tugged on my collar, parking my butt on the sofa, foot bumping the pink coffee table. “How could you tell?” Had I been that obvious on the outside? Ugh. I’d have to cultivate a poker face.

“Reading.” A glint, like sunlight on a fleck of glitter, pinged in her right eye. “I get a sense of emotions. A little tickle of understanding, if you will. Don’t worry, I can’t read your mind or anything.”

Thank Hecate for that. “I’m good now. It’s just this has all been a lot.”

Drake sat beside me, stroking my back.

Molly smiled at his action. “So cute. That’s what I like to see.”

Drake laughed. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning it’s about time you found someone to get your pecker up.”

My cheeks heated as I giggled.

“Molly,” Drake warned.

“What?” She retrieved a box of teabags from the middle cupboard. “You think I can’t feel the tickle of lovey dovey?”

I giggled again, my face probably lobster red.

Being in her company held the power to unwind me. In the good way. Now my instincts told me she was a good egg. An egg plastered in rock star decoupage and tied off with a pink ribbon.

Drake huffed, shaking his head.

Things might not be official between us, and we still needed to discuss him leaving, but there was no denying the attraction, the desire for more.

I bumped his knee with mine, facing him as he turned to face me.

He smiled, I smiled, the distance between our lips short. If it weren’t for Molly, I’d be climbing into his lap and?—

Images of Waterloo blazed across my mind, giving me whiplash, pain lancing through my forehead.

“Crap…” I breathed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

People almost died. Rhianna Kingwood almost had me. If it wasn’t for the soul bond, she would have. I had no right to be thinking about straddling Drake. How about taking a moment to let the bad stuff sink in? Oh, and shove a pin in my damn desires?

“You need a phone?” Molly asked. “There’s one in the coffee table drawer.”

“Thanks,” Drake said, fetching a small phone with buttons and a tiny screen from about fifteen years ago.

The goblin hadn’t asked any questions about who I was. Did she know already, reading a lot more of me than she let on? Or did she trust Drake enough to allow him to bring anyone into her comic book shop?

Ugh. Here came bubbles of anxiety. Again.

Drake handed the phone to me, seeing as I knew Isaac’s number.

With trembling hands, I pushed the buttons. It rang three times before my brother’s voice answered.

“Who is this?” he questioned, his accent a blend of British and American.

Relief made my face tingle. “It’s Riley.”

“Thank fuck!” he roared. “Where are you?” Voices in the background. “It’s him.” Crackling down the line. “Are you okay?”

I swallowed a lump, explaining how I’d ended up here.

“Fuck me hard. Okay. Alice and April will pick you up. Hang tight.”

“Wait. The whole road’s blocked by witchcops. They won’t get in.”

“Fuck it. Hang on.” Rustling, chatter, then he came back on the line. “Erin wants to speak to the goblin.”

“Okay.” I held out the phone. “Molly?”

“Yes, babycakes?” she asked as the kettle finished boiling.

“My…” I almost said boss, which she wasn’t. Erin Lovell was more like our guide, our wise sage we couldn’t live without. And kind of a boss, I guess. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

She nodded, taking the phone in her big hands.

“Hello? Yes. That’s right. Yep. Friends for years.

I see. Yes. Uh-huh. Well, you’re in luck.

I can get them out. Yep. There’s a convenience store on Rosemary Road—Greta’s Great Grabs.

You can pick them up there.” Molly nodded. “You’re welcome. I’ll pass you back.”

I took the phone. “Hello?”

“Good to hear your voice, Riley,” Erin’s soft tones answered. “How are you doing?”

“Shaken but fine. I’m sorry about all this.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you are safe.”

If Drake hadn’t run away, this would’ve never happened…

The irate inner voice came with a punch, smashing the smitten me, replacing him with an angrier model.

And it spoke the truth. Drake had forced me into this situation, albeit unknowingly.

Maybe I should start being pissed off rather than glossing over the cold, hard facts by feeling so happy around him all the time.

Oh, God. I didn’t want to be mad. But I couldn’t deny the simmering fury trapped inside a pot I didn’t want to open.

Simmering. Yeah. Not boiling.

He left you…

Okay, okay. I’d deal with it. I would. No more gloss. Real talk later. But I also refused to let this happiness go. I wanted more of it. To nurture it, and he had apologized.

We all made mistakes.

“I’ll see you soon,” Erin said. “Take care.”

“Bye,” I whispered.

Isaac returned. “Can’t wait to crush you in a brother hug.”

“Likewise. Are you okay after what happened?” I asked.

Shade. Dad. Attacking me in my bedroom. My jaw clenched, a spike of sorrow landing in my heart.

Dad…

“I am now I’ve heard your voice. I’ve been shitting a brick.”

“Sorry to worry you.”

“Pfft. Don’t be daft. Just get your arse home ASAP.”

“Will do.”

“Toodles for now.”

I chuckled. “Toodles.”

He hung up.

Hearing their voices applied a soothing balm to my anxieties.

“No time for tea, I’m afraid,” Molly said. “We’ve got a secret tunnel to use.”

Before I could say anything, blue light exploded into the room.