Residue by Laury Falter Read Free Book Online

dramatic, the bold red gris gris bag I held in my hand. “They’re used for various purposes. Some are meant to beckon money, others peace, others success. Some are used for fertility.”
    I shot a look at him and he chuckled. “Not that one.” Then he cleared his throat to hold back a smile before adding, “That one is for love.”
    “ Oh,” I muttered, uncomfortable under his gaze.
    Although I didn’t look in his direction, I knew his eyes lingered on me as I awkwardly returned the bag to the table. Then he burst into deep bellows of laughter.
    “ Quiet out there,” barked Mrs. DeVille from the back room, coaxing another, softer, bout of laughter from him.
    “ Are you teasing me?” I demanded in a lowered voice even as I broke into a smile.
    “ Yes,” he said without the least bit of guilt. “You take it well.”
    A thought popped into my mind then, one I gave fleeting attention. Could he have been teasing me about the channeling? He seemed to pull off his joking with such grace that I could have missed his playful undertones. Something, intuition maybe, told me no. He had been sincere when describing his gift.
    Regardless, I didn’t know what to think and sighed in agitation at his playfulness.
    “ Come on.” He grinned, turning toward the next item on our list. Along the way he grabbed two gris gris bags, keeping one for himself and handing me the other one.
    A bold red one.
    Stifling a grin and enjoying his unspoken flirtation, I met him at the table where he stopped next.
    “ Voodoo dolls,” he stated.
    “ They seem so innocent and safe,” I noted, evaluating them.
    “ Until you know what they can do.”
    “ Which is…?” They looked like a normal doll to me.
    His chest expanded with a deep inhale as if preparing for a lengthy explanation, but he summed it up a simple, candid remark. “Just about anything you want.”
    He shook then, as if a chill had run through him, swept up the nearest doll from the table, and moved on.
    “ Last item on our list,” he announced, examining the display of candles on the shelves in front of him.
    Recalling having seen one elaborately designed somewhere toward the back wall, I spun around and sought it out. There, between an elk horn and a skull, sat a white candle sparkling despite the dim store light. Encrusted with jewels and intricate carvings deep in its wax cylinder, it took my breath away.
    Jameson came closer then. “It’s perfect for you.”
    I reached down and picked it up, lifting it overhead to better examine its radiance, paying no attention whatsoever to the bracelets that had slid down my arm to expose the metal one that my mother had given me.
    “ It’s stunning, isn’t it?” I breathed.
    But he didn’t answer and that was when I felt the tension grow around us.
    Rotating my head toward him, I noted that his eyes weren’t on the candle. They were lower, settled directly on my wrist.
    For a moment, I faltered, wondering if he’d caught sight of my scar and how I was going to explain it to him.
    But it was my other wrist he’d locked his focus on, the one with my white metal bracelet.
    From his position, he could clearly see the stone embedded in it.
    Casually, I dropped my arms and placed the candle on the table, noticing that he didn’t blink or take his eyes off my bracelet once. It was as if he’d found danger lurking in the darkness and refused to turn from it.
    “ It’s a gift from my mother,” I said, twisting my arm so that he could see it clearly, using my right arm to keep the bangles from sliding down over it again. “The stone is a-”
    “ Crystal quartz,” he finished.
    “ That’s right,” I replied as steady as I could, a little unnerved that he still hadn’t blinked or taken his focus off the stone. “Do you know it?”
    His eyes, which now focused on me like a laser, were filled with questions, and most of all apprehension. “What’s your last name, Jocelyn?” he asked stiffly, his relaxed manner