Page 2 of Serpent & Saviors

Books had always been a lifeline, and it was like I’d stepped back in time. I was twelve again, with my whole life ahead of me. My face broke into a huge smile. I needed this experience, even if it was to do nothing more than weave my way through all the selections. It had been so long since I’d browsed freely.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” Andrew murmured, a look of shock on his face. “Who knew books could make a person so fucking…radiant?”

“Stop,” I said, feeling heat crawl down my face and neck.

“Shall we then?” he asked, gesturing to the array of books.

We wandered around for what felt like hours. He’d stop every once in a while and encourage me to pick out something, anything. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I wouldn’t be able to keep it. We strolled over to the children’s section, and my eyes sought the authors whose last names started with J.

And there it was. “Howl’s Moving Castle.” I lingered there the longest, my fingers tracing the cover lovingly.

“See something you finally like enough to buy? Are we ready to commit?” Andrew teased.

“I loved this as a child. I read my original copy so often it was as worn out as a raggedy old blanket,” I answered with a chuckle.

“Do you still have it?” he asked.

“No,” I whispered.

It was one that Cameron had made me burn right after the teahouse incident. Tears filled my eyes, and I choked back a sob, feeling foolish over a book.

“That’s it then. We’re getting it, and you can’t stop me.” He reached around me and plucked it from the shelf.

“Really, it’s not necessary.”

“I’m buying it.” He flipped it over and read the blurb on the back. “This sounds fascinating: a moving castle, a fire demon, and a witch. I’m sold.”

“Andrew, put it back,” I exclaimed with my hands on my hips. His face fell, and I let out a light laugh. “If you’re buying it, then you get the one from the back of the stack. Fewer hands have touched it,” I said, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He leaned in and kissed me on the lips. When he pulled back, he looked as surprised as I did. My heart fluttered inside my chest, and I gulped. We both moved toward the line, and my eyes caught something near the stands.

“Do we see something else we might want?”

“One book is plenty,” I lied. Truthfully, if I had the opportunity and the money he had, I’d own a bookstore.

“But that isn’t a book. It’s a journal,” he remarked.

Damn his attention to detail. “I can’t, really.”

“Why not? If you want it, then you should get it,” he whispered in my ear, his voice doing things to me that it shouldn’t. “I can tell you want it.”

“You sound like a drug dealer.”

“Have you been around a lot of those?”

I shook my head as he stepped out of line and headed toward the journals. I stubbornly stayed where I was. He held up several, and I shook my head at each one.

None of them worked. It was Autumn after all. Then his hand moved toward a section I couldn’t see clearly, and he held up one with the most beautiful cover.

It had rich, warm hues that captured the season. A tapestry of crimson, gold, and deep earthly brown adorned the woodland scene. It looked hand-painted. My breath caught in my throat. My eyes met Andrew’s, and he dug toward the back of the pile.

“This is the one, right?”

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“Next in line, please,” the cashier said loudly, startling me.

Andrew hurried back over, still holding the journal. I daydreamed about what it would be like to fill the pages with all the things that had happened in the last few years. It had been so long since I’d physically written to any of my season sisters. I longed to pour out my soul to Autumn on the pages.