In the meantime, I was enjoying the fact that nobody else in East Texas probably had a truck like mine yet. Dad had to pull in some private favors to get one of the first hybrid personal trucks off the assembly line for my birthday last August. He liked the “green effect” it added to his political image. I just liked the freedom it gave me. Its electric/gas hybrid fuel system with increased battery storage meant I no longer had to ask the parents for gas money or explain why I'd put so many miles on it already. All I had to do was plug it in every night and it was ready to go another 100 miles the next morning without using a drop of gas.
Thankfully, it also had a GPS, making it easy for me to get directions to the bookstore.
If only girls like Tarah came with some sort of GPS to help us guys navigate their minds.
The first two bookshops were total busts. Not even a Harry Potter book in sight, so they must have already cleared their shelves of all magic related books, both fictional and nonfiction. And the third shop came with its own set of problems, namely a group of loud protestors out front that had drawn the attraction of a local news crew.
I debated skipping this shop entirely. The last thing I needed was for my face to show up on the news right now. But with only one other bookstore to check after this one and the odds so high against its having anything on magic to help me, either, I decided to risk it. If I pulled up my hoodie and kept my face turned away from the cameras, nobody should even notice me much less recognize me.
I parked around the corner from the street the shop was on, shoved my hands in my pocket, and slowly joined the edge of the group shouting and holding posters saying things like “Save Our Country!” and the words “Demon Worshippers” with a big red circle and a line through it over them. A few feet away from them, a smaller knot of people shouted back, calling them bigots. Gleefully shouting right back into their faces was some idiot with shaggy blond hair that could have been Kyle, but I couldn’t be sure because all I could see from this angle was the back of his head.
Even more reason to keep my head down, avoid being recognized by anyone, and get in and out as fast as I could before this turned into a full scale street fight.
I eased around the arguing protestors, gradually getting closer and closer to the shop’s front. Finally I was able to grab the door’s handle.
One of the protestors, a big bear of a guy, grabbed my shoulder. “Hey, you’re not going in there, are you?”
“Got to,” I shouted back over the noise. “I need a book for school, and they’re the only ones who’ve got it.”
I pulled free of his grip, reached the entrance door, and managed to open it just enough to squeeze inside.
As soon as the wooden door shut behind me, all hint of the crowd outside cut off. The peace and silence within was almost shocking in its contrast. After only a minute, I could feel the knots releasing in my shoulders.
I could feel something else, too. The tiny hairs at the back of my neck and arms stood up. It was like sensing a storm coming in the distance, with that promise of energy and power.
This place didn’t just hold books on magic. Someone was actually doing magic here.
I walked up and down the aisles, trying to figure out how everything was organized. By subject, apparently, since it obviously wasn't by author.
I checked every bookcase, every single shelf from top to bottom and end to end.
Nothing about magic.
But there had to be something. Anything. Even a beginner book on magic for kids.
I went down the stacks again, slower this time, even looking behind the books in case the magic ones were hidden.
Nothing.
"Can I help you find something?" The woman's voice was warm, the tiniest bit raspy, and with a hint of some foreign accent I didn't recognize. She had kind eyes. They reminded me of my mother for some reason.
Was she a Clann member? She wore a loose, flowery dress made out of something that flowed light as smoke every time she moved. No black clothing. No spiked jewelry. No makeup at all, much less the heavy black rings around the eyes like Tarah's friends preferred.
Then again, Tarah didn't look like a Clann member either.
Maybe I should just thank her and get the heck out of there.
And then what would I do? Keep holding the magic inside and pray it wouldn't leak out of control anymore?
Sure, because that had been working so well.
I straightened up, took a deep breath, and joined her at the front counter. "I feel something…special here. And I need help with something like that."
She froze and glanced down at the goose bumps on my forearms below where I'd pushed up my sleeves. After a long pause, she nodded. "I think I have what you need. Come with me."
I followed her past the counter and down a short hall towards an open doorway. She entered the room then turned to watch me.
At the threshold, energy crackled over my skin. If static electricity could form a wall, this was how it would feel. I leaned into the wall and it gave way.
Some sort of magical safeguard? But for what? The room was plain, with floor to ceiling, unfinished pine shelves on all four walls. No pentagrams, runes or otherwise witchy-looking symbols anywhere. Even the stuff on the shelves looked like boring textbooks and office supplies.
And yet…the room seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.
"You are looking for a book to help you learn how to control your magic?" she asked, almost snappy in her business-like attitude now.
I started to answer her, then hesitated. What if this was a trap? She seemed all right, but what if the government was using her to get to others with magical abilities?
She watched me, a knowing look in her eyes.
Then again, maybe she was wondering the same thing about me. I could just as easily be an undercover agent sent to entrap her.
“How do we know we can trust each other?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I know I can trust you. The front door has a spell on it that will not let anyone through with evil intentions against me.”
But that only answered half my question. “And how do I…”
“The same way you decide to trust anyone else in life. Either you do, or you don’t.”
Or you can learn to trust your own instincts, her voice suddenly whispered inside my head, making me jump. She smiled.