Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Why don’t you just … invest in his department?” Lucy suggested. “You could fund the whole department. That way, Victor gets to finish his degree without needing to take money directly from you.”
After some thought and research, Pandora concluded it was the only way she could make it up in some way to Victor.
So while Victor was likely home for his winter break, maybe trying to figure out what he was going to do with his life since he thought his uni career was over, Pandora was having meetings with UCL, working it out so the whole cohort in his department would be able to have the rest of their schooling for free.
With that squared away, she turned her attention to the bookshop.
True, it felt different.
Her lifelong dream was no longer the same.
She saw him everywhere. In their choice of paint colours, in the wood stains, the art. She smelled him in the coffee brewing in the café as she and Lucy worked overtime to get everything just right. She felt him in the spines and the pages of the books as she slid them into their spots on the shelves.
It was impossible not to think of him in each private nook with its comfy chair. Or sitting at one of the tables at the café, his caramel macchiato set at the corner as his hand scrubbed across the pages of his notebook and his hair fell charmingly over his forehead.
When she was tired enough to allow herself the misery that came along with fantasies, she would picture herself walking over to him, reaching out to brush his hair off his forehead. And maybe he would look up, eyes unfocused for a second as they adjusted to not looking at tiny words. Then he would give her a sweet, soft smile.
If she really wanted to torment herself, she would imagine leaning down to press her lips to his.
She never let it go beyond that, though.
That alone made it feel like someone was stepping on her heart and crushing it to dust, when she came back to reality.
“I guess,” Pandora said as she looked around the shop.
“You guess?” Lucy asked, sighing. “We have put our blood, sweat, and tears into this. Literally, I painted over my blood right there.” She jabbed her finger toward one of the built-in bookcases. “And you cried into that cushion,” she continued, pointing toward the window seat. “And, well, I think I sweated over the entire floor. That’s what gives it that nice shine.”
“I know you worked hard. You know how much I appr—”
“Oh, God. Don’t give me that ‘you appreciate me’ thing. We both busted our butts because we knew how good this place could be. I know this is a little bittersweet for you because you were planning to work on this place with Victor. But I want to remind you that this was your dream well before that.”
She was right.
But Pandora was still struggling to find her enthusiasm for it.
“And that we nearly died with the amount of blood we had to give to that witch to spell this place.”
That, unfortunately, was not that much of an exaggeration. Apparently, to bring forth their desire to have the shop be a haven for all supernatural beings, a place where grudges based on species could not exist, they had to bleed for it. Not only them, but one of every kind of creature they wanted in on the sanctuary truce.
That meant weeks of tracking down down-on-their-luck sirens, succubi, shifters, fae, goblins, and, well, every other kind of creature they could think of, and asking them to donate their blood for a fee.
Pandora estimated that nearly half of the money that went into the bookshop went to getting blood from other creatures.
Lucy, luckily, gave hers for free. Well, no. She wanted a nice steak dinner in exchange for it.
“You know, we never really tested out the spell,” Lucy said.
“How were we supposed to test it out?”
“I don’t know … maybe you should try to hit me.”
“I don’t want to hit you.”
“It’s for science.” Lucy lifted her arms in a fighting stance. “Come on. Hit me.”
“Is that invitation for anyone?” a voice called, making Lucy’s eyes widen as she whipped around to find Elias standing in the shop.
“What are you doing here?”
“That’s on me,” Dante said, coming in behind Elias, holding two bouquets of flowers.
“I thought you went back to Transylvania,” Lucy said, getting a snort out of Dante.
“Well, the spell doesn’t seem to work with arguments,” Pandora said, taking the flowers from her brother. “Thank you.”
“Congratulations on your dream coming true,” Dante said as she put the flowers on a table.
“Thanks.”
“Come on, hit me,” Lucy said, making Pandora turn around to see her with her fists up as she circled a bemused Elias.
“That is not going to happen.”