The City of Crows Bethany Lovejoy (color ebook reader .TXT) 📖

was different, or maybe it was the lack of distance between us, his eyes softening at the contact. I wanted to throw away his number, I really did. But something about his expression changed my mind for me.

“I’ll hear from you soon, Lyra,” he said, his voice steady as I struggled to pinpoint the exact words for his expression as he gazed into my eyes.

Footsteps approached and he pulled away, gathering his stuff in his arms with a knowing smile. Emma’s face peered from the end of the aisle, the woman impatiently tapping her toes as she waited for me. I followed him as he walked down the aisle, his shoulders barely brushing against Emma’s as he moved to leave.

I could barely breathe after he left.

“What’s up with him--” Emma began.

“I’m sick,” I informed her, interrupting her train of thought. I saw how she hesitated, a heavy pile of books in her arms that was no doubt meant for me. My hands pushed lightly against them, pressing them back into her chest as she gaped.

“B-but you only just arrived, Lyra!” Her hands began to move forward again, presenting the books to me again. “And I don’t want to spend time shelving all the books that Mrs. Evans just pulled.”

“Sudden flu,” I explained, hands flying behind my back to untie my apron, fingers deftly slipping the note into my pocket.

“You said you needed more hours.”

“I do,” I said, pulling the apron off. My mind was racing, yet my brain was nowhere near a conclusion. “I’ll be back tomorrow, promise.”

“What did that guy say to you?” Emma demanded, her foot stomping against the ground, she wasn’t used to not getting her way. She was too late however, my shoulders shrugged my plastic raincoat on, and I quickly worked the buttons as I charged out of the shop.

The rain did not stop, if anything it grew harder. Pouring down in buckets, I didn’t bother to try to fight it as it drenched my hair, a hood would have done nothing. The man, Leo, walked down the street, his back to me as heavy breaths created clouds in the cold air, his shoulders drooped. I saw him round the corner, his profile coming into view as I finally came up with a word to match his expression before.

Discouragement, unmatched defeat. A man looking for a solution, finding none, and then having to make up one himself.

My hand reached back into the denim pocket of my jeans, fingers brushing against the paper that was saved from the elements by the overhang of my coat. If I took it out then, I could have washed the ink away, I would have had an excuse not to call him. If he came lurking around the next day, then maybe I could even get a police officer to remove him.

And yet, his expression lingered in my mind. I did not withdraw the paper, I did not imagine scenarios in which I got rid of the threat that was Leo Hoang. I instead moved my hand back into my pocket, feeling the plastic ziplock beneath it. I’d be short on rent again. I’d have to do another favor for Yvie, meaning that I’d end up in Magic town once more for her entertainment. And yet I turned on my toes all the same, sparing only a second glance at the corner that Leo had just disappeared behind.

I told myself that I would go home, that I’d take a hot bath and sort things out, tomorrow I would pick up more hours and go back to normal. However, telling yourself that you’re going to do something is a much different prospect than actually doing it. I knew that I would dial those numbers, that I would listen to his voice on the telephone and ask him about his tale.

But it was because of the witch at the counter, not his puppy dog eyes. Definitely her look of happiness as I handed her the book, not the electricity that danced between our hands as Leo handed me the note.

3

Drowning

Leo Hoang’s face lingered in my mind far longer than I would like to admit. His profile as he turned down the street corner haunting me almost as much as the strange look of desperation that crossed his features. I didn’t throw away the piece of paper, though I reminded myself over and over again that I could. He wouldn’t make good on his threat; he’d made that fairly clear. And yet… I couldn’t do it. I was a different woman than my mother, far less stubborn. That was my major fault, I gave in too easily. The only thing I ever seemed to resist was my roommate’s frequent requests to return to Magictown.

To be honest, I wasn’t even sure that Yvie even needed a roommate. We’d been friends for as long as I could remember, roaming down the same streets, trapped in the same lifestyle. She was one of those people who just appeared in my life, taking it over to the point where I couldn’t remember a time before it. But she had money, far too much money for a city like New Haven. It seemed like whenever there was a problem, she had an abundance of it to throw at whatever it was. A trust fund child and a street corner potion peddler, I was surprised that she even wanted to move to a neighborhood like Marlow Heights with me. I mean, Magictown made sense for her; being around witches made sense for her. But Marlow? Marlow was all humans and no glamor. The second-poorest place in town after Magictown, in the second-worst apartment in the area, with a landlord who first and foremost hated witches.

No many would choose to move into such an area, but Yvie did. I think she did it solely because she didn’t want me to be alone. There was a lot to worry about with witches being alone in neighborhoods outside of Magictown;