Spells on Shelves

Chapter 14 || Gabriel, The Dark Sorcerer

It was a beautiful day. I had chocolate milkshake and fries and the kids thought of me as a friend. Not even Paxton's presence could dampen my mood.

After a short stop at Edward's to pick up medicine, we had driven to the very outskirts of town. A small, run-down house sat at the end of a gravel path, surrounded by towering pine trees. Its facade was a mix of cracked gray paint and weathered wooden panels. Smoke rose from an old blackened chimney.

"I suppose this Gabriel guy lives here?" I asked, trying to mask my unease.

The only dark sorcerers I'd met had been a part of my old coven. Needless to say, none of them had been remotely pleasant.

Paxton opened the door. "That's right. Better prepare yourself."

A strange rattling echoed from within the house. Goosebumps erupted on my neck.

All my earlier bravado dissipated. I suddenly wished Kai was here.

"Prepare myself?" I asked. "For what?"

He took a few deep breaths and crinkled his nose. "The smell. Although I'm guessing he showered recently."

With that less-than-reassuring comment, Paxton picked up the supplies, approached the house, and knocked.

The noise stopped. Everything was eerily quiet. Too quiet for a forest. There was no rustling of mice, no birds, even the canopy seemed still.

Suddenly paranoid that the door might explode in our faces, I did the smart thing: I hid behind Paxton's broad back. Bravery was for the stupid. I believed more in self preservation.

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Better you than me," I whispered and motioned for him to face forward.

The door creaked open. A short, thin man, wearing a large black cowboy hat appeared. In one hand, he held a beer bottle, the other rested on the door frame.

Hollowed cheeks and paper-thin, yellowish skin gave him a sickly appearance. Loose strands of brown hair hung around his face. Deep circles surrounded the set of small, bloodshot eyes that peered at us warily.

Next to him, Paxton looked like the most well-rested person on earth.

We were gonna ask this guy for help?

"What brings ya to ma humble abode?" the sorcerer slurred.

Paxton, seemingly unfazed, lifted the bags with food in his hand. "We need your expertise."

"Come on in then."

I did not want to go in there but all I could do was follow behind Paxton as he crossed the threshold and disappeared after the sorcerer. Still, I didn't want to wait outside alone, either.

I stayed in Paxton's shadow. His body would provide a nice shield if things suddenly went south. I didn't care if he thought that made me look weak. Acting tough didn't save your neck.

He placed the bags in what looked like a living room. A faded couch with various holes hugged one side. A black and white movie played on an old, flickering TV. Stacked plates and empty beer bottles covered a large, worn-out rocker in the middle of the room.

The air reeked of stale tobacco and something else. An odd energy—it didn't feel like witchcraft—penetrated the house. The whole place projected an aura that told me to stay away. I didn't dare reach out with my magic.

Suddenly, there was a bang and smoke erupted from an adjacent room.

With a curse, the sorcerer dashed into what I assumed was his kitchen. I heard him wrench something around.