Charlie and I drove in silence until we got into town.
When I pulled up to the little strip mall and stopped the truck, Charlie leaned forward to read the sign above the weathered doors and her eyes lit up.
“Antique mall?” she said.
“Yeah. The ad says they have ten thousand square feet of antiques.” I forced myself to grin. “Surprise?”
Charlie climbed out, and I lagged behind her, letting her make the first approach to the windows. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered in. A warm glow bloomed in my stomach as she gave a little bounce of excitement.
“Wow, this is so cool. I had no idea there was anything like this here!”
Before I could respond, she ducked into the first shop. The bell jingled overhead. The shop owner looked up at us from behind the dusty register, flashing a short smile before returning to her book. It looked like she was reading an old romance novel that belonged in the bargain book bin.
Personally, I had no interest in antiques whatsoever. I had never been shopping for fun in my entire life. My idea of fun was more along the lines of duking it out with Carter, or running through the forest with the pack. But watching the way my sister moved through the aisles of forgotten treasures with glee did make it a lot more fun.
“This is great, Regan,” Charlie said, coming up beside me after several aisles and pit stops to peer into glass casings. “My mom and I used to treasure hunt through places like this on weekends in no-name towns wherever we lived at the time. This is one of the best I’ve seen.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I told her.
She tilted her head, a soft understanding passing over her features. “What did you and your mom used to do for fun?”
I paused, thinking about that. “We discussed pack leadership skills. Democratic methods to handle disagreements. And she taught me everything I know about hunting.”
“Oh. Well that sounds ….”
I sighed. “Dry,” I finished.
Charlie ducked her head. “I was going to say practical.” Her shoulders slumped. “The truth is, I don’t know if my mom taught me anything useful to prepare me for all this.” She gestured to the store around us, but I knew what she meant.
“Of course she did. You can shift as fast as the best of us—and keep your clothes on in the end,” I added, earning a wry smile. “And you lived among humans for almost two decades undetected. Some of the pack here … they’ve never been out of Paradise. I hate to think what would happen if they struck out on their own,” I said, thinking of Lane or even Sheridan. What would she do with no one to boss around? What would I do?
I couldn’t imagine.
“I guess so,” Charlie said, staring down at her toes as we walked. “You’re a lot more prepared for what’s coming, though. I’m … not sure I’m cut out,” she admitted.
I pulled her to a stop and looked her square in the eye among the dusty, forgotten trinkets of Paradise residents past. “The fact that you’re here, sticking through it, willing to try—that makes you braver than half the people I know,” I said.
“And bravery … that counts?” she asked.
I squeezed her arm. “That’s what matters most.”
Charlie and I shared a smile and something passed between us. Understanding? Loyalty? Some form of bond I’d never felt before, that was for certain. It transcended friendship and something told me it didn’t herald the end of our tension for good, but it was enough. For now. And it made me glad I’d brought her here today.
We went back to exploring, splitting off inside the next shop with Charlie on one side of the aisle and me on another. I wandered with half a mind to find some small gift for Charlie to commemorate today’s outing. I picked up a china serving dish with enough dust to write my name in and admired the tiny swirling pattern that looked from far away like small Vs painted in blue. I frowned and put it back, uncertain whether Charlie would want something that represented the Vuk name.
Very soon, we wouldn’t share that anymore. One of us would be a Rossi.
Instead of dwelling on the impending wedding that would change my entire life as I knew it, I concentrated on finding the perfect gift for my new sister. Something that would make today’s memory pleasant no matter what happened tomorrow.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the history of all the old furniture. The antique store smelled old, like moth balls and dust and cleaning fluid. The silver cups in the cabinet smelled like they used to live with a smoker. The typewriter next to the glass-eyed doll in the window had lived with cats. And underneath it all, there was a faint, musty smell of something ancient and powerful. Vampires.
My eyes flew wide. Vampires?
“Hey, Charlie,” I called. She looked up from pawing through a box of little wind-up toys. “Do you smell anything funny?” I called out in a careful voice.
She sniffed. “Not unless dust is hilarious. Why?”
“Never mind.” I didn’t want to worry her. Maybe the vampires liked to sell their old stuff at the antique mall. I could only imagine—their houses were probably filled with useless old crap.
I tried to occupy myself by looking for something interesting, but I couldn’t shake the scent of vamps on everything. An old rocking chair drew me but I stopped short when I saw what had been placed on the wooden seat. Three old dolls stared back at me with half-lidded eyes. Their red-painted smiles creeped me out. Fortunately, Charlie seemed to sense my discomfort, and she sped up her pace. She picked out a couple little paintings of cats, which looked totally bizarre and quirky.
“Cats?” I asked.
“I’m getting them for the frames. I think they match my room up at the house.”
The thought of Charlie getting settled into her room meant that she was going to be around for a while—even after the competition. It meant a lot more trips to antique stores together. I smiled to myself.
We moved onto the third shop, which had more housewares and a department for antique clothing in the back. There were even actual poodle skirts. I sniffed over and over but the rotten scent from the earlier shop was gone. Maybe vamps really did believe in donating their unused.
“Want to look at the skirts?” I asked.
“Secondhand clothes,” Charlie said, wrinkling her nose. “I would have to bleach them before I could wear anything. Can you imagine walking around in someone else’s smell all day?”
“No,” I admitted. “I’d probably keep startling myself, thinking there was an intruder nearby.”
Charlie laughed and I felt my mood lighten a little more.
I kept wandering as Charlie moved farther back in the racks. I turned a corner, losing sight of her, and stopped mid-stride. There it was again: the distinct smell of vampire.
I dug around in the clothing bin nearest me, seeking out the source.
I found a lot of weird things, including bell bottoms and a knit sweater that looked like they belonged in the seventies, but no vampires. Or anything that smelled like vampires, for that matter. In fact, the farther I went this way, the fainter the scent became.
“What are you doing?”
I glanced up to see Charlie staring at me over a rack of clothes. She was holding a vintage skirt and looking at me like I might have gone crazy.
“I think I smell a vampire,” I finally admitted. “It’s bugging me. Can’t you smell it?”
Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks reddened. She edged away from me. “No. I don’t smell anything. Why would there be vampire smell at an antique shop?”
Poor thing must have been scared.
“Don’t worry. It’s a weak smell, so it’s not like they’re here. I thought maybe they could have donated something, and I’m picking up—” Motion outside the window caught my attention, and I trailed off as I turned. I looked over in time to see someone’s retreating back as they headed across the street. Someone with dark hair, a dark shirt, broad shoulders. Nobody normal—or alive—dressed in dark colors like that in the summer. Or moved quite so fluidly.
“Wait here, Charlie.”
I threw the bellbottoms back on the rack and took off at a run for the front of the store. I burst out the door and blinked viciously into the sunlight.