Page 29 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

“What kind of burden?”

His expression flickers. And even though the question was nosy as hell, and I should just tell him never mind, I say nothing at all.

After a moment, Mr. Griffin goes to a filing cabinet, pulls out a file, then hands it to me. “The store operates as a lending library for a few select customers. Folks I trust.”

“Chase,” I say, noting the name on the folder. I flip it open, then skim through the list of titles he’s borrowed. Lots of books that focus on things like warding and protection spells and defense against the unseen.

“You think someone’s after him?”

“Or someone he cares about. Mostly, I think he’s fighting battles you don’t understand.”

I frown. “So, you really believe in that stuff? Magic, monsters, and potions that can hold the boogey-man at bay?”

He tilts his head as he holds my gaze. “How long has the universe existed?”

I frown, thrown by the question. “Well, forever, I guess.”

“Exactly. And forever is a long, long time. Plenty of time for barriers to break down. For those monsters and boogey-men you speak of to find ways to slide into this realm.”

“Realm,” I repeat softly, the word feeling familiar on my tongue.

He continues as if I hadn’t interrupted. “What better place to cross over than a town as ancient as St. Augustine? A place where the veil is already thin?”

Now, a chill races down my spine because this time I recognize his words. I saw them once in my mother’s journal. Words that convey the same feeling I’d had during the campus tour.

Thin. Veil.

“My mother used to say that dreams are just our minds processing the day,” I lie, testing his reaction. “But sometimes I wonder if they’re something more.”

Mr. Griffin studies me, his gaze sharp. “Finn mentioned you have an interest in sleep disorders.”

I stiffen. “Did he also mention why?”

“He didn’t have to.” His voice softens. “I knew your mother.”

“Oh.” The word comes out like a whisper, and I hug myself, feeling like a little girl again.

“Her death was a terrible thing.”

I swallow hard, tears pricking my eyes. “Yes.” I can barely get the word out.

He starts to reach for me, then pulls his hand back. For a moment, we both stand there awkwardly. Then his shoulders sag a bit, and he says, “Better get back on the floor. Might be a customer who needs something.”

I do as he says, surprised to find that Chase is now camped out at one of the little tables by the coffee counter, an almost empty cup of black coffee beside him, and what’s clearly a rare book open in front of him.

“A little light reading?” I ask, glancing down at the almost indecipherable calligraphy that covers the pages.

“It’s either this or do crossword puzzles. And I just don’t know enough about sports teams.”

“Yet another thing we have in common,” I say, then point toward his cup. “Want another? I can give it to you on the house and then tell Mr. Griffin I was confused, what with it being my first day and all.”

His head tilts. “Why, Ms. Lyte, are you flirting with me?”

“No,” I say, scowling as I take a step back. “Just, you know, abusing my position of semi-authority at my new job.”

“Oh,” he says, his eyes raking over me in a way that makes me go all tingly. “Too bad for me.”

My cheeks burn, and I mumble something incoherent about shelving in the true crime section, then scurry away. When I’m sure he hasn’t followed me, I slip off toward the back room, taking care to stay hidden by the stacks until I’m safely locked away. Then I slide into a chair, close my eyes, and just breathe.