Page 13 of Infernal Secrets

Considering she didn’t sound like she was from the area, relocation made sense.

With little time to spare, I didn’t question the abundance of wax or the creaky floorboards aging the shop. Maybe the aesthetic choices were intentional. It made for a quaint—albeit spooky—bookstore.

I turned back to the bookshelf that demanded my attention but froze, sensing eyes on me from behind. Ridiculous, standing in a corner with nothing but a bookshelf behind me, but I trusted my instincts.

The woman stepped to my side, pulling books from the shelves and stacking them in her arms. “The storm sounds dreadful. I hope you brought an umbrella.”

“No, I thought I had one in the breakroom at work, but I don’t. I’ll have to run through the parking lot to the bus. I can use my purse.”

“That won’t do. I have a spare I can give you.” She turned and walked to the counter with her stack of books before I could protest.

I scanned the books again, and a sudden ache gripped my chest. I placed my hand on my sternum over the pendant beneath my shirt. The tug from earlier faded, replaced by a subtle discomfort.

Frowning at the strangeness, I turned away and went to the counter. Today’s stress and bizarre incidents pressed down on me, likely causing the unease I’d felt since entering the bookstore.

“Might I make a suggestion?”

I glanced up at the woman as I dug through my purse for my wallet. “Hm?”

She finished bagging the paperbacks, taking my debit card. Her eyes shimmered green, captivating me. “I have a feeling you could use a turn of luck.”

Taken aback, I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“We all could use happiness in our lives.”

“Right, I guess so.” I punched in my PIN with a thin and shaky laugh.

“And I think you, Raelynn, deserve more than this life is giving you.”

My hand froze above the keypad.

A chill slithered down my spine as I locked eyes with the woman; the only noise in the dim store was the faint sound of the receipt printing.

Finally, I dared to ask, “How do you know my name?”

She smiled and pulled a thick black book from the stack she’d retrieved from the bookshelf. “Your name tag.”

“Oh.” Jesus, Rae. Get it together.

She placed the book on the counter with a smile. “I think this book may change your luck.”

Intricate designs adorned leather that looked old despite the book’s mint condition.

My eyes widened as I took in the symbol on the cover.

Inside the central triangle on the cover, lines branched in three directions into smaller circles and sharp points, all encircled by a larger ring. It reminded me of the birthmark below my left butt cheek. The only difference was two filled circles at the top and three at the bottom.

My parents came close to losing me to Child Protective Services after neighbors saw the birthmark at a pool party. They thought my parents had tattooed my leg, claiming the mocha-hued mark looked too precise to be a natural birthmark. But newborn photos prevented CPS from taking me. While not as defined on a newborn’s leg, the triangle was unmistakable. Doctors didn’t understand it, but since I’d had no problems, I hadn’t thought of it… until now.

Shaking my thoughts away, I asked, “How can a book change my luck?”

“Why not? Words have the power to do many things. Sway the heart, enrich the mind, take us on grand adventures both in life and in our imaginations.”

The woman pushed the book forward. The ruby ring gleamed where it joined the chain linking it to her bracelet, sparkling in the candlelight. She stepped back, pulling her chartreuse shawl around her.

“Do I look that bad?”

With a tilt of her head, she said, “I don’t concern myself with others’ appearances. It does nothing for me.”