Secrets of the Spell Bound
James Dean Look-A-Like and the Book
After Ren waved off my discovery as just a coincidence, I knew I had to find out more about the book. There had to be more to it than just the diary of a crazy woman. It was just a gut feeling.
My foot tapped against the wooden post of my bed, but it was still too early to go to the bookstore. The old guy probably knew more about the book. He was just one of those creepy people that knew stuff.
Jumping off the comfy bed, my feet hit the icy floor sending shivers up my spine. The mirror over my dresser sold me out, showing the mess my hair had become in its reflection. Sighing I ran my fingers through my dark hair. I had dyed it black just a few weeks earlier, much to the dismay of my dad, but it was my hair.
Giving up, I grabbed a t shirt and jeans and tried to make myself at least somewhat presentable, even though my hair was a mess. The bookstore was only a few blocks away, but if I walked slow enough it could take me ten minutes to get there.
It was a bit windy as I walked down the cracking pavement to the old bookstore, its brick facing dirty from the years of standing in the small suburban area. The door opened with the jingle of bells alerting the old man to my presence. His smile pulled his lips above his crooked teeth, and crinkled the edges of his eyes.
“Well, hello,” he greeted, his voice tired from age. “Are you liking the book?”
“Yeah,” I replied as I approached the counter. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about it. Like where it came from?”
“I happened to buy it from that man over there,” he stated, motioning to a tall man by the same section I had found the book in.
His hair was cropped short in an almost military like style, but was just a little too long for him to actually be a soldier. A leather jacket was draped over his shoulders, looking sleek and slightly worn. Though I was sure he was too old for me, I definitely saw potential. He was practically James Dean, with a little bit of Jensen Ackles bone structure. It doesn't get any better than that.
“He’s a regular costumer,” the old man said. “Would you like to talk to him about it?”
“Yeah,” I said, moving away from the desk and towards the man beside the bookshelf. He smelled like sandal wood and soap. “Excuse me?”
Turning to look at me, his green eyes found my grey ones. “Um, yeah?”
“Hi, I’m Adair,” I greeted, with hand outstretched. “I bought a book here and the man at the desk said you were the one that sold it to him.”
“Oh, um, I’ve sold a lot of books to him,” he replied, shaking my hand. “Which one did you buy?”
“Magique,” I told him, suddenly he didn’t seem so friendly.
“I don’t know anything about that book, if you’re looking for more information on it,” he stated, his tone a little dark and threatening.
“Oh,” I squeaked, backing away from him I mumbled an apology and left the store.
Walking past the window, I found him watching me as I started for home. He had to know something, but something in the way he talked to me just screamed ‘don’t ask questions’. It was like I didn’t have a choice. Maybe I’d talk to the book keeper tomorrow, but after the harsh rejection from Hot Guy, I really didn’t want to be told that no one knew anything about that damn book.
My foot tapped against the wooden post of my bed, but it was still too early to go to the bookstore. The old guy probably knew more about the book. He was just one of those creepy people that knew stuff.
Jumping off the comfy bed, my feet hit the icy floor sending shivers up my spine. The mirror over my dresser sold me out, showing the mess my hair had become in its reflection. Sighing I ran my fingers through my dark hair. I had dyed it black just a few weeks earlier, much to the dismay of my dad, but it was my hair.
Giving up, I grabbed a t shirt and jeans and tried to make myself at least somewhat presentable, even though my hair was a mess. The bookstore was only a few blocks away, but if I walked slow enough it could take me ten minutes to get there.
It was a bit windy as I walked down the cracking pavement to the old bookstore, its brick facing dirty from the years of standing in the small suburban area. The door opened with the jingle of bells alerting the old man to my presence. His smile pulled his lips above his crooked teeth, and crinkled the edges of his eyes.
“Well, hello,” he greeted, his voice tired from age. “Are you liking the book?”
“Yeah,” I replied as I approached the counter. “Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about it. Like where it came from?”
“I happened to buy it from that man over there,” he stated, motioning to a tall man by the same section I had found the book in.
His hair was cropped short in an almost military like style, but was just a little too long for him to actually be a soldier. A leather jacket was draped over his shoulders, looking sleek and slightly worn. Though I was sure he was too old for me, I definitely saw potential. He was practically James Dean, with a little bit of Jensen Ackles bone structure. It doesn't get any better than that.
“He’s a regular costumer,” the old man said. “Would you like to talk to him about it?”
“Yeah,” I said, moving away from the desk and towards the man beside the bookshelf. He smelled like sandal wood and soap. “Excuse me?”
Turning to look at me, his green eyes found my grey ones. “Um, yeah?”
“Hi, I’m Adair,” I greeted, with hand outstretched. “I bought a book here and the man at the desk said you were the one that sold it to him.”
“Oh, um, I’ve sold a lot of books to him,” he replied, shaking my hand. “Which one did you buy?”
“Magique,” I told him, suddenly he didn’t seem so friendly.
“I don’t know anything about that book, if you’re looking for more information on it,” he stated, his tone a little dark and threatening.
“Oh,” I squeaked, backing away from him I mumbled an apology and left the store.
Walking past the window, I found him watching me as I started for home. He had to know something, but something in the way he talked to me just screamed ‘don’t ask questions’. It was like I didn’t have a choice. Maybe I’d talk to the book keeper tomorrow, but after the harsh rejection from Hot Guy, I really didn’t want to be told that no one knew anything about that damn book.