Page 12 of The Second Sight (Wanderlust Emporium Presents, Season One)

Chapter

Ten

KASI

The bell above the Razzle Dazzle Magic Candle shop door jingled as I pushed it open.

After last night, ordinary sounds felt like warnings.

As I stepped inside my job, I felt the irony of working in a place like this.

Why I worked here didn’t make much sense to the outside world, but it made sense to me.

My mother had worked here too, standing behind the same counter, breathing the same scented air, before she disappeared from my life.

It was before I learned there might be a reason beyond ordinary human problems for her vanishing act.

At first, I thought working here would bring me closer to her.

The familiar scent of beeswax, essential oils, and incense should have been comforting.

Instead, it made my stomach twist with longing for her.

Then I grew up and realized it was just a job, a way to make money over the summer.

“There you are, baby!” Miss Ellen’s warm Creole accent floated from behind the counter where she arranged a display of black and red protection candles.

Her yellow-tawny skin glowed in the candlelight.

Her dark brown braids were pulled back into a neat bun.

“I was beginning to worry you might not make it in today.”

I forced a smile that felt like stretching plastic across my face. “Sorry I’m late. I, um, didn’t sleep well.”

That was the understatement of the year. Between the terror of meeting a vampire and the disturbing erotic dream that followed, I’d barely slept at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Seven’s face in places they shouldn’t be.

Miss Ellen’s dark eyes narrowed slightly as she took in my appearance.

I knew what she was seeing: the concealer that couldn’t quite hide the dark circles under my eyes, and the hair I’d barely managed to brush.

My roots were jumping out of my scalp because I didn’t even remember to lay my edges down.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, child,” she said. Her voice was gentle but probing. “Everything alright?”

I tied the apron strings behind my back. “I just partied too hard on my birthday. You know how Brooklyn is. She insisted on making it a big night.”

“Twenty-one is a significant age,” Miss Ellen nodded, turning back to her display. “The threshold of true adulthood in many traditions. A time when certain gifts often manifest.”

I froze. The word “gifts” sent a jolt through my system. Seven’s voice echoed in my head: You’re not fully human, Kasinda Bacchar. You never have been.

“What kind of gifts?” I asked, my voice higher than normal.

Miss Ellen shrugged, seemingly unaware of my sudden tension. “Oh, just an expression, baby. Though my grandmama always said twenty-one was when people’s true nature starts to show itself.”

My hands trembled as I arranged a row of blue meditation candles on a shelf. True nature. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Miss Ellen would say something like that today, could it?

“Those go on the third shelf, honey,” Miss Ellen reminded me gently. I blinked, realizing I’d been standing motionless, staring at nothing while my mind raced.

“Right.” I moved the candles to their proper place, trying to focus on the simple, mundane task. Just a normal shift. Just a normal job. Just a normal human life.

For the next hour, I went through the motions of work.

I dusted shelves, rang up a few customers, and organized the new shipments of essential oils.

Every time the shop bell rang, I jumped, half-expecting to see Seven.

My anxiety ratcheted higher with each false alarm.

I couldn’t remember whether Brooklyn mentioned I had a job or where I worked.

Last night was the clearest sexual dream I’d ever had, if that made sense. It didn’t make sense.

During a quiet moment when no customers browsed the shop, Miss Ellen handed me a cup of something warm and herbal-smelling. “Drink this,” she said in a tone that allowed no argument. “It’ll help settle your nerves and get you back to normal.”

I took a cautious sip. There was chamomile, lavender, and something else I couldn’t identify. “Thank you.”

“Now,” she said, leaning against the counter beside me, “why don’t you tell me what’s really got you jumping at shadows? And don’t say it’s just a hangover. I’ve known you since you were thirteen, Kasi baby.”

I stared down at the tea. How could I possibly explain? Oh, nothing much, Miss Ellen. Just met a vampire last night who drinks blood. He threatened me and told me I’m supernatural. Also, I might have had an erotic dream about him. Not might of. The dream was porno and very graphic. No big deal.

“I found a strange shop yesterday,” I said instead. “In Chicago. It was called the Wanderlust Emporium.”

Miss Ellen’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Can’t say I’ve heard of it. Where was it located?”

“Downtown, between a coffee shop and a boutique.” I described the weathered red door, the stained-glass window with two Black girls as winged angels. “It seemed...out of place. Like it didn’t belong there.”

“Hmm.” Miss Ellen tapped a manicured nail against her chin. “That’s strange. I know most of the metaphysical shops in Chicago. We all tend to network, you know? But I’ve never heard of this Emporium place.” She gave me a curious look.

“Well, it wasn’t like a candle shop. It was more like a vintage thrift store or like an antique resale place.”

“Huh, I’ll have to look it up.”

“The Black lady inside, Moira, she sold me some old reading glasses.” I explained.

“You don’t have vision problems. These glasses, anything special about them?”

The bell jangled again, saving me from having to answer. A group of college-aged girls entered, giggling and pointing at the love and attraction candles. I nearly dropped my mug at the sound of the bell, tea sloshing over the rim onto my fingers.

“Easy, sugar,” Miss Ellen said, taking the mug from my shaking hands. Her warm palm pressed briefly against my forehead. “You’re not feverish, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Yeah, I need some more sleep after last night.”

Throughout the rest of my shift, Miss Ellen kept a watchful eye on me.

I caught her studying my face when she thought I wasn’t looking.

When the shop doorbell rang again, she began watching my reactions, noting how I flinched each time.

She didn’t say anything more about it, but I could feel her worry.

I moved through the familiar motions of my shift with jittery hands and a lot on my mind.

I felt like Miss Ellen saw more than I was saying.

Not the same way I saw things before they happened but more like intuition.

I wondered, not for the first time, how much she really knew about my mother’s disappearance and whether she might know more about the supernatural world than she let on.

The shop always felt different at closing time.

I moved through the common closing rituals mechanically.

I extinguished the display candles with a small brass snuffer.

I wiped down the glass countertops with lavender-scented cleaner and then counted the day’s receipts.

My body knew what to do even as my mind drifted elsewhere.

“Don’t forget to restock the sage bundles for tomorrow,” Miss Ellen called from the back room where she was updating inventory. “We’re expecting that tour group.”

“Already done,” I replied.

I glanced at the clock: 7:15 PM. Forty-five minutes until I was supposed to meet with Seven.

The Black Rose Café was only a ten-minute drive from the shop.

I wasn’t going to be there. I made up my mind at least seven times that I was going to stay away from danger.

Damn, why did I say seven times? I could’ve said any number, and my brain spewed the word seven.

I couldn’t wait for the day I forgot he existed.

Okay, that was stupid. Who could forget they met a vampire?

Six years of wondering about my mama. Six years of random dreams that came true. I had survived a vampire, and something about that fact gave me a jolt of courage.

“Miss Ellen,” I said, my voice quiet in the hushed shop. “Do you have any idea where my mother might be?”

Miss Ellen appeared in the doorway of the back room, her face softened. She wiped her hands on her apron and came to stand beside me.

“I wish I did, honey,” she said, the Creole cadence in her voice more pronounced. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Theia. She was special, your mama.”

“I really need her right now,” I admitted. I blinked rapidly, turning away to organize the receipt paper on the counter, not wanting Miss Ellen to see the tears swelling in my eyes.

“I know, baby.” Her warm hand settled on my shoulder. “Sometimes the people we need most are the ones we can’t reach. But that don’t mean they ain’t with us in some way.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The weight of everything was on me, Seven, the glasses, my supposedly non-human blood.

I needed my mother’s guidance. I needed the truth.

I needed to know if she’d left because of something related to all this supernatural bullshit that had suddenly invaded my life.

“Miss Ellen,” I said after a moment, my voice steadier. “Can I ask you something that might sound strange?”

“Ask away, baby. Strange questions get the most interesting answers.”

I took a deep breath. “Do you believe in supernatural creatures? Like, things that aren’t...human?”

I expected her to laugh, to dismiss the question as ridiculous. Instead, she was quiet for a long moment, her dark eyes thoughtful as they studied my face.