Page 80 of Alchemy of Souls

“Then let’s go,” he says, and holds the door open for me.

But the second I walk through it and get a whiff of his musky magic, I know it’s a mistake. How am I ever going to make it through an entire day at his house without killing him or kiss… never mind. Not going there. Shut up, brain.

CHAPTER 40Eloise

We ride in Grayson’s car in complete silence. He puts on music, but somehow that only makes it more obvious that we don’t know what to say to each other.

He clears his throat. “You were telling me you found something in Brachan’s books yesterday?” he asks, which admittedly is an easier topic than most.

“A poem and a dedication tothe cobblers who came before and for those who come after,” I say. “Which is a weird thing to write if you don’t come from a cobbler family. But you said Brachan wasn’t a Laborer.”

He considers it. “What if I was wrong?” he says, and I snort.

One corner of his mouth quirks up. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, let’s go with that. If you’re wrong, I’d tell you that Laborers inherit their family businesses, especially if they’re lucky enough to have a store. And then I’d say that instead of reading more poetry, we should ask the town cobbler if they’re related to Conri Brachan and if they know anything that might help us.”

His blue eyes brighten. “That’s actually… incredibly smart,” he says, and I hate that I warm at the compliment.

He makes a sharp left and we change directions, heading for the center of town.

Grayson stops his Porsche in front of a shop with a wooden sign that readsCobbler. He opens the door for me and a little bell chimes.

There are floor-to-ceiling shelves, crooked and asymmetrical, like the tree decided their shape instead of the shop owner, piled with everything from work boots to sparkling heels.

A man looks up from his workbench. He seems to be in his seventies with wild gray hair that sticks off his head.

“The young Stone, is it?” the man says with a fair amount of grump. “Is this some sort of special occasion? You usually send your servants—I’m sorry,Laborers—for something as lowly as shoe buying.”

Grayson shakes off the dig and flashes the man a bright smile, one I’ve come to realize is its own kind of armor. “Actually, it is a special occasion. I wanted to let Eloise pick out a pair of shoes. Whatever she wants.”

I exhale. It’s not the worst cover, but given how awkward things are, I also don’t love it.

“There’s everyday wear in the front and the impractical pretty baubles in the back,” the cobbler says. “Probably want to head straight there and see which ones cost the most, Stone, that way there’s no doubt about yer grand present.”

I laugh at the way the old man heckles him. Gran would love this guy.

“After she chooses, we’d love to have a chat with you, sir,” Grayson adds.

“Now I’msir, is it?” the cobbler grumbles. “I don’t chat.”

After a lifetime of living with Gran, I know that tone—this man means it.

“Just a couple of friendly questions,” Grayson says with his charming demeanor that usually gets people to crumble in his hands.

The cobbler frowns. “No time and no interest.”

“Go ahead and shop,” Grayson says to me, which I’m assuming means he needs time to think of another angle.

“You know, I’ve never had store-bought shoes,” I say half to them and half to myself. “Grandad always made mine, and when the Lawless took him, Mom took his place. She’s good at a lot of things, but shoes aren’t exactly her talent.”

The cobbler pauses to take another look at me. He narrows his eyes slightly andhmmfs.

I run my fingertips along the gorgeous racks, examining each of the styles before pulling out two pairs—cute flat ankle boots that have a sturdy sole and a totally impractical pair of shiny red heels. I try them both on in front of the standing mirror with a little twirl.

When I look up, the cobbler and Grayson are staring at me. “What?” I say self-consciously, but in truth I don’t care if they think I’m ridiculous. If I only have a week left, then I’m twirling in these shoes.

Grayson clears his throat. “Nothing. Sorry, was I staring? I think I was staring.”