I shut the book in disgust, snorting in annoyance at the romance story that had fulfilled its promise of happy-ever-after but left me feeling empty and cross. Happy-ever-after. Yeah, right. Like that ever happens. Well, not to me anyway. I frowned. A sweet romance was usually all that I needed to set me on the right path on a normal day, but this morning it hadn’t worked.

Maybe a darker romance was needed? Something so out-of-bounds that it freed me from, well, me? Because, according to recent intel gained through bitter experience, I was not living up to my fun name. I was “Lola” in name only.

It didn’t help that the rain that crept down my bookstore window and obscured the view of the street hadn’t let up since I’d arrived this morning, giving me a bad case of the walking blues. Oh, and that being dumped by my boyfriend of two years last month wasn’t enough. Or the fact he’d been cheating on me with my best friend. Now I was being asked to haul my ass all the way to Castle Creigbourne tomorrow to answer a summons.

That, I can promise, is not going to end well for yours truly. And here I thought I was out of sight, out of mind, the safest place to be as a poor relation from the sticks with a price on her head. Being gifted my own bookstore came with conditions, meaning my butt was on the line for a future favor.

And speaking of people letting me down, where was Serena? My one and only employee was late. Again. Okay, she didn’t love Lola’s Books & Mortar as much as me but being on time for once would be a boon. But that got me right back to thinking and worrying about what the famous Highland Heathens Creig clan were going to demand of me. I owed them. Big time.

In seeming answer to my question, the door opened, letting in the freezing draft of a colder-than-normal October. But instead of Serena racing in, apologizing for being late—something she’d gotten down to a fine art, by the way—it was him. The man who always came bearing surprises and secrets. My pulse speeded in anticipation though something about the man always made me shiver. What did he have for me today to add to my secret stash?

A tall, thin man in a fedora he kept pulled down low with only his pale face and a fringe of snowy hair exposed, he moved lightning-quick to join me at the counter, defying his age. His long black trench coat was covered in raindrops, as were his well-worn black leather dress shoes. I knew him only as Striker.

“Morning, Miss Lola,” he said, his white even white teeth barely showing as he gave me a tight-lipped smile.

“Mr. Striker,” I said with a polite nod. He carried a small wrapped parcel tied with a length of coarse twine that my fingers twitched to unwrap. “What have you brought me today?”

“Ah, something of great note. I hope your coffers can support this addition,” he said, his usual opening remark tinged with satisfaction.

“Business could be better,” I said, making it clear I was not flush.

“Yes, can’t it aways.” He shrugged. “But this little gem is a one-of-a-kind, I assure you.”

I looked around the deserted shop, making certain no one else had come in and required assistance while I wasn’t paying strict attention.

“You’d better come into the back.” Where in the heck is Serena? She should have been here, making sure that any business, scant though it was, would be directed while I was occupied. Maybe I should lock the front door? But then even Serena wouldn’t be able to enter and make at least a pretense of looking after things.

Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t seem to fire the girl. I needed to grow a backbone, make my needs clearer to those around me who were trying to take advantage. Everyone thought I was loaded, thanks to my being related to the Creig clan, but business was down along with profits. And no way was I ever going to ask them for another red cent. Not until I paid off the loan that had begun Lola’s Books & Mortar.

Striker nodded. “After you, Miss Lola.”

He followed me down the aisle into my workroom, his footfalls so light as to be almost unnoticeable. The familiar scent of musty old tomes filled with ancient secrets gladdened my spirits, driving away my earlier doom and gloom. Mr. Striker’s arrival, arresting and a bit scary as it always was when he showed up out of the blue a few times a year, promised a sensation of it being Christmas morn, with treasures nestled under the tree. Only these treasures were deliciously dark and edgy, crafted by the unknown.

I gestured at the only free space on the long table that housed the paraphernalia for repairing old books and sundries. The shelving that the room was stuffed with contained many ancient artifacts that promised more than they provided. But the urge to think that maybe this one would be the one, the one item that would change something for the better and offer up an experience of great renown beckoned. I guess I was a sucker for such things, wishing always to understand the mysteries and secrets of the ancients. So much history was lost in the demands of day to day. “Shall we have a look?”

With pride, he laid the wrapped parcel on the wooden surface and stepped back, giving a courtly bow. “Please, after you, Miss Lola.”

With trembling fingers, I worked on untying the sturdy string, fumbling in my excitement and wishing it would be considered good form to just cut it with a sharp pair of scissors. But I didn’t want to appear gauche.

When it was done, I carefully peeled back the brown wrapping. I opened the midnight-blue cigar-sized box to reveal a small green glass vial with a filigree silver decoration.

“Very pretty. Perfume?”

“Not just any perfume, but something so special that it belies belief.” Striker’s eyes glittered with keen interest.

“Really?” Was he hawking a love potion? That was such a comedown from the usual exotic items he could entice me by. Plus, that ship had sailed, to borrow an old cliché.

“You’re disappointed,” he said, watching me carefully.

“No, it’s very nice. Is it okay if I remove the stopper to check the scent?”

“Don’t do that unless you have great need.” His voice had changed with the warning, becoming harsher and with almost an echo to it.

“Okay. What’s it for then?”

He smiled, revealing his teeth. “It can solve problems for those in dire circumstances. Like requiring to stay hidden.”

Strange. But his words made my interest quicken. “What does it do? Mask scent or something?”

“Yes, at a cost.”

My eyebrows rose. “What kind of cost?” Was he meaning the price he wanted for the strange item or the cost of using said item?

“Sorry I’m late! The rain caused an accident near my house, and I had to stop for ages because they closed traffic and I got stuck in the middle of things.” Serena rushed in, a whirlwind of flying pink hair and dangling gold earrings that caught the overhead light as she tugged off her raincoat and hung it on a hook beside mine, showering the floor with rainwater that she wouldn’t think to mop up.

“That’s twice this month alone. Your street must be a lightning rod for accidents,” I said.

Serena’s rosebud lips turned down in a sulk before she realized I had company. “Oops, sorry for interrupting. Hello, Mr. Striker. What do you have for us today? Say, that’s a bit of bling.” She reached greedily for the bottle, but Striker intervened, slamming the hinged lid shut on the box and almost nipping her fingers in the process.

She stood there, looking rather pissed. “I’ll catch you later, Lola. I have some news for you.”

My employee loved to gossip. No doubt it was the ongoing saga of my ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend. No matter how many times I said I didn’t care about them, still I seemed to find a moment to torture myself.

“Sorry about that. You were saying, Mr. Striker?”

He waved his hand like he was swatting at a bug. “The tag for this priceless item is rather steep, but as I was saying before the rude interruption, it would be well spent.”

“More than for the Nightshade Web?” It had been a pricy box of cobwebs, but its promise of easing nightmares—or at least my memory of them—had worked after forking over a small fortune.

He’d come with some choice items over the past years, from the Book of the Dead that promised resurrection to a cure for the plague. I’d never tested them, as I liked to keep my karma in balance. Which apparently made me boring, according to my ex.

“I can let it go for the same amount.”

I dithered. That was a lot of money. Hard-earned money and I still owed on the original loan. Not that the Creig clan would miss it. They were far richer than any on the Forbes List of—human—billionaires. Shifters would never allow a list of their own kind. We kept to ourselves out of necessity and prudence. Our code of honor ran deep but our rules to live by were simple—no exposing who we are to the world, and protect your own. Standard fare for supernaturals. Striker was a werewolf just like me, so I had no problem dealing with him. He’d never shared what clan he was connected to, and I was too polite to ask.

“Can you come back tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is too late. And once you purchase this, may I suggest you carry it wherever you go? Tie the vial around your neck and wear it as a talisman. It will bring you good luck.”

That was a bit much. It wasn’t even perfume.

“Humor an old man.” His eyes bore into mine, like he wanted to say more.

“Fine. Okay, I might need to find a second job when I get back, but since it’s one of a kind…”

“At least it will give you a running start.”

What’s that supposed to mean? “What does it purport to do?”

He gave a sly, rather surprising, strange smile. “It has an amazing ability to ward off the wearer’s scent, making them impossible to track.”

Taken aback by the intriguing information, I barely registered the sounds of arguing coming from the storefront. What was Serena up to? That the customer was always right was important to a floundering business. She’d better be behaving herself.

“I’ll need to get your cash. Hold on.” I hurried over to the corner and bent down to unlock the floor safe, careful to keep the combination hidden behind my hand, same as I do when using an ATM and I have to enter my PIN. I pulled out the required amount and shut the door firmly, ignoring how the pile within was dwindling.

“Here you go,” I said, handing the stash of bills to him.

“Thank you,” he said, touching his head in a respectful manner. “Until we meet again.”

When I held out my arm to shake over the deal, he surprised me by kissing the back of it. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Miss Lola. You have strong blood running through your veins that only needs a spark to ignite. Then watch out. The world will notice you and do your bidding. You’re one of a kind and I see an amazing future for you. Find yourself and you can do anything. Even walk through walls.”

I almost laughed at that comment. Right. No one did my bidding at the moment, preferring to take advantage of my good nature. And wasn’t the correct expression walk on water? I just wanted to fall into stories and live my life through adventurers that others took risks to go on. Was that wrong? Maybe. I was beginning to find being taken for granted a whole lot annoying of late. Serena thinking she had a job no matter what stunt she pulled. My best friend screwing my boyfriend.

That one hurt the most. Veracity had been my best friend since university and knew how much Riley meant to me. She could have any man, being sexy and gorgeous, so why did she take mine? A small voice in the back of my head said if he could be tempted to stray, he wasn’t worth fighting for. Because truth be told, I did want a man so overwhelmed by my charms that he had to have me. Is that too much to ask?

The voices in the other room had grown louder.

“I’d better check on things.”

“I bid you a good day, Miss Lola.”

Striker left, and I took a moment to admire my new acquisition before safely setting it on a shelf. Okay. No more dithering, I needed to restore peace.