His Dark Howl

Shadows on the Wind

    The used-book-store-and-tea-shop, Leaves, was one of Bria’s happy places. It smelled of old paper and herbal tea, and every time the copper bell above the door rang, announcing her arrival, she felt her heart soar. Books were like friends, some of them old and familiar, others new and waiting to be introduced. Each one promised a journey, a journey away from the Group Home and away from painful memories of the past.

    She found Leaves shortly after moving into the Group Home, and the bookkeeper was pleased to find someone who appreciated both tea and tomes, and so, when she was old enough to work, she was naturally offered a job. Bria suspected that old Mr. Reginald, Reggie to his friends, didn’t particularly need the help as much as he enjoyed the quiet companionship as they shelved books and sipped tea from china cups all day. Honestly, she would work there for free, but it was nice to have some pocket money, too.

    When the work was done, she could curl up in one of the many reading nooks, and enjoy some quiet reading time before returning to the Group Home in the late afternoon. This afternoon, she was perched in a hammock chair that was hung up in the second floor loft of the bookstore, behind a bookcase. From her perch, she could see nearly all of the first floor of the bookshop from behind a large potted fern, except for the tea counter and small seating area that including two tiny tables set with chessboards, and a few mismatched armchairs. Some patrons liked to sit in the shop and read while they enjoyed their tea, but that was more common on weekday afternoons, not Saturday mornings.

    She was trying to get lost in a book when she heard the copper bell ring, announcing a customer’s arrival. She had a lot on her mind, and even the thriller on her lap wasn’t doing a good job of distracting her. Moving on Monday, in with Katie and her partner and sisters. Graduation looming in a few short months, and all the milestones that preceded it. Oh, s**t. Katie would probably try to dress her up and send her to her prom. Bria rolled her eyes, and glanced down from her perch in the loft, checking to see if Reggie needed her help. He probably didn’t, but she had nothing else to do.

    A young man stood in front of Reggie’s book counter, his back to Bria. He was tall, tall enough that she imagined the shiny, dark waves of his hair grazed the top of the door-jam as he entered the shop. He wasn’t a regular customer, and Bria could tell, even without seeing his face, that he wasn’t from the area. Her eyes drifted from his well-fitted leather jacket, spanning across broad shoulders, to the back of his legs, admiring the firmness of his butt. Bria couldn’t help herself. She normally wasn’t the type to ogle men, she definitely didn’t make a habit of even checking out the boys at her school. She was, usually, above that sort of thing, more preoccupied in her own thoughts. After all, who needed boys when she had magic at her fingertips?

    Bria was curious about this strange young man in the leather jacket, who was talking to Reggie so intently at the book counter. She wondered what he was looking for, a book, or some tea? Was he a reader? She found herself hoping that he was, and wasn’t sure why it mattered so much. If only he would turn around. She found herself almost hiding behind the fern, spying out from behind it like a predator, watching her prey. This was a new, and unfamiliar feeling, this need to see him, to know more about him. She could just go down the wrought iron spiral staircase, and join Reggie at the counter, but she was not that girl. Besides, it was just curiosity. What could a put-together, self assured guy like that want with a quiet girl like Bria? He probably had a girlfriend already, anyway. She hadn’t seen his face, but she knew it would be handsome. Guys like that always had a girlfriend, or two or three.

    Dammit, Bria! She had to know what he looked like, and it looked like he was about to leave, he had shaken Reggie’s hand, firmly, and was now heading for the door with his back to her. She reached out a hand, and called on the Spirit of the Air. She sent a small gust of air, out from behind the fern, rolling down from the loft, across the stacks of books below, and right towards the stranger’s perfectly dishevelled hair. She felt the gust of wind caress his right cheek, flow across his chiseled jawline, and gently, so gently, coax him to turn his head to the left. She held her breath as he stopped, and slowly, deliberately turned toward her.

    He was handsome, even more handsome than Bria had expected. He was like a statue of a Greek god, sprung to life. He had a chiseled jawline, a long, perfect nose, and a strong brow. His full lips quirked into an amused smile, as if he had been expecting her to reach for him with her magic. He looked up, then, and as he looked up at the fern, she felt as if he could see right through it, and into her. She no longer felt like a predator, the tables were turned, and she was a small rabbit, still and unmoving and unsure. The gentle breeze she had sent to him returned to her, a new scent riding on it, one of fresh baked bread, cedar smoke, and forest loam. His eyes glinted gold in the afternoon sunlight that filtered in through the skylights.

    She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. If the stranger had wanted to, he could walk up the spiral staircase, grab her in his arms, and a pull her closely to him. He could lower that cocky smile to her lips, and taste her. He could carry her out with him, and she’d be powerless to stop him. She felt all that and more, in his gaze. Don’t be silly, he can’t see you. You’re a witch, for goodness sake! You’re just having some silly romantic fantasy. With her magic, surely she would be strong enough to stop him from having his way with her, but Bria wondered, deeply inside of herself, would she want to?    

    And then, as suddenly as he turned her way, he was gone, out the door of the shop, and Bria could breathe once more. Once she wasn’t frozen in place, she found her curiosity reignited. She ran down the spiral staircase, to the front desk, where Reggie was writing something down in his ledger. She was looking past him, out the large glass window, where the reversed shop’s name, “Leaves”, and below that “Tomes and Tea” was hand painted in elegant gold lettering. She caught a glimpse of a black jeep Wrangler pulling away from the curb, and her heart skipped a beat. It was his, she was sure of it.

    “You just missed my nephew.” Reggie told her, shutting his ledger and putting it away under the counter, oblivious to the flush across Bria’s face, and the way she stared out the window to the space the Jeep had just occupied.

    “Your nephew?” Reggie knew the stranger? She never heard Reggie mention any family before, outside of his late wife.

    “He was Celeste’s nephew, really. Her brother’s only child. Marcus.” Reggie told her, “Not much older than you, you’ll probably see him around sooner or later.”

    “He’s not from around here, huh?” Bria asked, in what she hoped was a casual tone, hoping to get some more information about the handsomest, hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. A guy that had her thinking some dirty thoughts, after one glance.

    Reggie shook his head, turning his attention to cleaning his glasses, “No, Celeste’s family is from up north. She moved down here when we got married, and her family doesn’t really venture down much. They were never really happy about Celeste and I…a humble bookkeeper was not who they imagined her ending up with, so we never went up to visit them much, either. I haven’t seen Marcus since he was a little boy. When he called me, out of the blue, and asked if I still had the lake house, it was a pleasant surprise.”

    Bria knew the lake house Reggie spoke of. There were pictures of the lake house all over the bookstore. Photos of Reggie, Celeste, and the many dogs they adopted over the years, smiling from behind glass frames. Her favorite was a picture of Reggie and Celeste on the end of their dock, embracing each other as the sun set across the lake. A hound of some sort was smiling at the camera, while the oblivious couple stared at the setting sun. Bria had never met Celeste, she had died around the time her grandmother had, after a long battle with cancer. Bria wondered sometimes if that was why Reggie seemed to enjoy her company so much, they both understood what loss was.

    “So, he’s staying at the lake house? Marcus?” She liked the way his name felt on her tongue, and blushed.

    “Yes, I haven’t had the heart to go there in years, anyway. It’s dusty and needs some work. I told him if he was willing to clean it up, he could use it as long as he’d like. I’m not sure why he’s here, I suspect he needs a break from his old man.” Reggie chuckled to himself, “My Celeste was such an easy-going, free spirit. Her brother, Marcus’ father, was her polar opposite in nearly every way. My guess is that Marcus needs a bit of space, try to become his own man.”

    From what Bria saw of Marcus, he was already very much his own man. The thought him under anyone’s thumb was something she found impossible to imagine. She wondered why she felt so curious about him, why learning his name had thrilled her so completely. She chalked it up to teenage hormones catching up with her. Seeing a guy who wasn’t a high school child. That had to be why.

    “Speaking of becoming your own person, kiddo, I heard that you’re finally going to be getting out of the Group Home!” Reggie smiled, “Katie told me that she was going to tell you, this morning.”

    “At last!” Bria said, “I’m a bit nervous about it. I’m used to y life the way it is, I guess I knew change was coming anyway, I’m aging out of the system. But I thought I had a few more months to process it. It’s nice though, the idea of family.”

    Reggie smiled in a way let Bria know he was thinking about Celeste. That sad, wistful smile. They were never able to have children, but they had plenty of dogs over the years, and so many happy memories. Losing family was what bonded Reggie and Bria in the first place.

    “Of course, you’re family, too, Reggie.” Bria told him, “You’re the grandpa that I never had.”

    Reggie reached over and squeezed her hand, “You mean the world to me, too, kiddo. I’m lucky to have you around.”

    They spent the rest of the afternoon in a comfortable silence, sipping tea and reading books, as the real work for the day was done. Bria loved finishing her work day with a cup of good tea, made from loose leaves, in a beautifully painted bone china cup. The ritual spoke to her, it was comforting. Today, she sampled a black tea with lavender buds and rose hips, a lovely, fragrant drink. As she took the last sip of her cup, she looked forward to reading the leaves that would collect in the bottom.

    Reading her tea leaves reminded her of her grandmother. Ruby had been quite good at it, it had been her livelihood as a younger woman, before she stopped to raise her granddaughter. Bria glanced at the bottom of her cup, and gasped, quietly. The leaves had separated, the lavender and rose bits surrounding a dark, black shape. The soggy remains of the black tea leaves formed the shape of a wolf, howling. Never had a picture so vivid sprung from the bottom of her cup. She stared at the bottom of her cup, wondering what it could mean. What would her grandmother have said? It was an omen, perhaps, a portent? Bria felt a shiver run down her spine, and she thought once more of her reoccurring dream. Sometimes, you can feel trouble, blowing in on the wind. Something her grandmother used to say. Bria sensed that trouble was coming, and that she should be on alert.