I stopped by the bookstore to get Zion a few new books since we were all done with the bedtime stories we had at home. Last week, he asked if I was about to read him The Ninja Turtles, in which the short, bad guy gets caught in the end.
I didn’t need another clue to know he was already tired of the always-repeated story.
I made plans to branch out at the bookstore today before going home. I would get four new storybooks for now, and once they got exhausted, I would go for another.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the older lady behind the counter said as I entered the bookstore, her eyes staying on me.
I flashed a bright smile. “Good evening.” I moved over to the counter, where she stood behind it, and placed my hands on it.
“What can I get you?” the polite lady asked.
“I need at least four intriguing storybooks for a five-year-old boy.”
Her brow rose in interest. “Ah, the ever-curious five-year-old boys, eh?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, he is.”
“Does he have a preference for the stories he listens to?”
I shrugged, knowing Zion loved adventure but would settle for any other genre as long as it was interesting. “Not if they are engaging. He’s open to it,” I answered.
“Just a minute,” she said, and she went through the door to the inner room of the store, where I waited patiently.
She returned with three books in her hand instead of four and placed them on the counter.
I glanced at the first that caught my curiosity, titled The Curse of the Lone Wolf. I picked it up and stared at it closely, only moving my attention when the older woman continued to speak.
“It’s different from what he’s used to, but he will love it.” She assured me, her smile not reducing.
I wanted to ask why she brought out three books when I specifically told her I wanted four. But I calmed my questions after realizing the books she had brought were bulkier than an average children’s book. This meant it would take a while before we finished reading.
I nodded and brought out my credit card to pay it up.
“I’ll call the cashier to come and attend to this,” she said, disappearing again into the inner room. Not long after, a young girl with dirty blonde hair and a less friendly expression than the older woman walked in. She saw me, and her eyes flickered in surprise as if she wasn’t expecting to see anyone here.
Her brow stayed raised. “How did you get in?” her voice demanded, as if I had done something wrong as she beheld me.
My gaze narrowed at her line of questioning and the tone of her voice. She sounded as if I wasn’t supposed to be there or had done something wrong by being there. “The door said ‘open’. When it’s opened, people tend to come in.”
“We closed twenty minutes ago,” she said, still annoyed. Something about this girl was pissing me off.
I drew a sharp breath. “If the sign had said ‘close’, I wouldn’t be standing here now, would I? Besides, the older lady called you out so I could pay, right? So here.” I stretched the card in my hand out to her.
“What, older lady?” she demanded.
My eyes fluttered, my annoyance surging to a degree I didn’t want it to go. “Can I just pay and go?” I wanted to leave and kill this infuriating conversation before it got out of hand.
Her gaze narrowed. “Pay for what?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I am pretty sure there are books on the counter before you.”
“These aren’t from this store.” She pointed as if I had brought them into the store when I came in.
“The old lady went into the inner room and brought them out,” I explained what happened in the best and calmest way I could.
“Ma’am, I do not want to sound like a bitch, but there is no old woman at this store. I locked the front door because it was closing hours, and I needed to do the calculations for the day’s sales. And last, these aren’t from this store because we haven’t had them in the last three years. It was too gory and mature for kids, and parents didn’t like that.”
She continued rambling, but my mind stayed stuck on how she had kept this job despite her terrible attitude. That was my most tremendous shock.
Perhaps this was all a huge misunderstanding.
I wasn’t crazy. The door was open, and there was an old, friendly lady who welcomed me in. These books were from the store, but this rude lady here was twisting them around.
“I do not know if you came to return them and seek a refund, but we can’t do that because we don’t sell these books anymore. I am about to leave now, so you have to leave first.”
“Can I at least get one book?” Zion was already waiting for me to bring a new book home and read it to him before he fell asleep. Leaving without a book wouldn’t seem fair.
“I am sorry, the store has closed. I can’t give you any because I’d have to redo today’s sales, and it is already closing time for me!” She snapped at me, her tone not in any way polite.
My teeth gritted, and I turned to leave when she spoke again. “You haven’t taken your books.” She told me, and I stopped and turned to her.
The books weren’t mine, and I wasn’t ready to take them, but Miss Rude here believed they were, and I had to take them; at least I wasn’t going home empty-handed anymore. “Yes, can I get a bag for them at least?”
She didn’t object. She reached under the counter and pulled out the white shopping bag. She gathered the three books into the bag before giving them to me.
I forced myself to smile. “Thank you,” I said, exiting the bookstore, vowing never to return.
Diya had already tucked Zion into bed before coming home because I had stayed longer than expected. I thanked her for her help for the day, and though she told me not to thank her, I couldn’t help it. She asked about my day, but I didn’t want to think about how it went, especially towards the end.
I showered, changed, and got my bag, and then I picked up the book titled Under the Red Moon.
I knocked on Zion’s door and entered, despite not hearing any response from his room. He was probably almost asleep at this point. I pulled closer to the bed and found him sleeping. I had promised to read him to bed tonight, and I failed to keep that promise. He probably waited for me, but he couldn’t wait for long.
I sat down on the chair beside his bed and reached my hand out to stroke his face slowly.
I opened the book, and on the first page, “continued” was written in italics. My eyes narrowed, and I wondered what the continued meant. I flipped the second page open and began reading.
“After finding his mate and claiming her as his, the alpha moved to make it known under the crimson moon.” Though I had a foggy mind while reading the first sentence, my mind put the words together to make sense.
This was a werewolf lore book, just like the ones I’ve devoted myself to reading in the last week, but unlike those, this was a children’s book.
I snapped it shut, got up, and hurried away from Zion’s room. I entered mine, went through the three books I had gotten from the store, and set them down on the bed.
I folded my arms and read their names. The Claiming Rites, Finding the One, and Under the Red Moon. There was no order in which anyone should read these books, so I sat down and picked up The Claiming Rites. After an hour, I finished reading. The book made zero sense, and then I picked up Finding the One and spent another hour reading through it. While the first book was incomplete, the second made a little more sense. I picked up the third, with which I had gone to Zion’s room. I took my time reading, and another hour went by.
On finishing the third book, I realized I hadn’t read them in the right order. It seemed Finding the One was the first book, followed by The Claiming Rites and then Under the Red Moon. This was a trilogy that needed to be read in the right order. I stared closely at the books and found the numbers on them written on each book from one to three, just like I arranged them. These numbers were written on the drawn-out full moon on the bottle right of the book’s front page, and, being set beside each other in the formal order, the full moon glowed.
What were the odds I’d find such books at a children’s store?
The rude young lady at the store was right about one thing. These weren’t children’s storybooks; from the first chapter on, they appeared best suited for adults. The only things that made them seem like children’s books were the sizes and drawings on them.
Then it hit me. Everything wasn’t as it seemed. The older woman had gotten me these books from the inner room, only for the salesgirl to deny the books and the older woman’s existence at the store.
What if the salesgirl wasn’t being rude and everything she said was true? What if the older woman wasn’t there, even though I spoke to her? What if I had seen a ghost or something else?
I shivered.
The young lady didn’t see any other person at the store but me.
I stared at the books with confused eyes and picked the first book despite having already read it. Following it sequentially made more sense, and as I read the last line of the third book, I saw that these are the ways of breaking the curse of power.
I reached for my phone on the nightstand and dialled Aaron’s number, but he didn’t answer, and I tried a few more times before giving up and setting my phone down.
These books held the answers we’d been looking for in the last few months, and despite them being a blur, I knew in my heart that this was it.
The thoughts running through my head were wild, but exhaustion somehow took over me, and my eyes slowly shut in the following minutes.