Bloodlust - Helen Harper Page 0,61

to look around.

“Can I help you find anything?” he persisted.

Probably realising that she wasn’t going to be left alone, she looked back. “I’m doing some research into Celtic mythology,” she answered. “In particular, Dagda. Do you have any books that might help?”

“Lots,” Solus purred.

There was a moment’s silence while they stared at each other. Then she spoke up. “Can you show me where they are?”

“Of course,” he said, not moving. “I’m Solus. You can call me Sol though if you want.”

“Great.” She took a step backwards. “The books?”

He shook himself slightly. “They’re over here.” He moved past her, brushing against her body ever so lightly, even though there was more than enough room for him to manoeuver around.

Solus looked up and down the shelves. I watched, amused. He was in completely the wrong place. The books on Dagda, an Irish fae from long ago, were on the other side.

“Ah,” he said finally. “We appear to be out of stock. There was a Celtic scholar in here a few days ago who probably took them all. If you give me your details though, I can order some more in.”

“Which scholar?” She seemed momentarily confused. “I know almost everyone else in my field, and there’s no-one looking into Dagda at the moment.”

He shrugged disarmingly. “I didn’t catch his name.”

The girl looked at him assessingly, then pushed up her glasses rather nervously. “It’s okay. I’ll order them off the internet instead.”

“There’s no need. Our suppliers are old-fashioned, so they’re not online. They have by far the best and widest selection. Honestly,” he said, “give me your name and address and I’ll find everything you need.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

“Then please, mademoiselle, come this way.” He swept out an arm in my direction.

She started, as if noticing me for the first time. I grinned at her. This was fun. She walked over, Solus at her heels. I pulled out a pen and piece of paper and handed it to her, and she scribbled down a few words, then passed them back to the Fae.

“Isabel? That’s a beautiful name. You know it means ‘God’s Promise’?”

She eyed Solus as if he were slightly mad. “Yes.”

“Would you like to go out for a drink?”

“No.”

I waited to see whether he’d put some of his more persuasive skills into action, however he simply bowed. “As you wish.”

Isabel’s cheeks reddened again. She inclined her head in farewell, then left. I smirked at Solus, who was still staring after her.

“Dragonlette, I think I’m in love. I’ve never…” he blinked, and seemed slightly stunned.

“I’m not sure she felt the same way,” I pointed out.

He waved the scrap of paper with her name and address on it. “That’s okay. I can bring her around.”

“You didn’t glamour her into going out with you.”

He shook his head vehemently. “No, that would be rude.”

Huh. He’d tried to glamour me when we’d just met.

“I have to go, dragonlette.” He leaned over and pecked me on the cheek.

“Don’t you want to know where the Dagda books actually are?”

He gave me a dismissive look. “I can get better ones in Tir-na-Nog. She should have the best.”

The door jangled again, and Solus spun around. His shoulders sagged, however, when he saw it was Mrs. Alcoon with her little tartan shopping trolley trundling behind her.

“Hello!” she called out cheerily.

I gave her a wave. She peered at Solus. “Goodness. You are almost glowing, Lord Sol. You must be having a good day.”

A small smile played around his lips. “Indeed I am.”

He tipped an imaginary hat in both our directions, then snapped his fingers and vanished into the Otherworld ether.

“We had a customer wander in. Solus was rather taken with her - I think it’s love at first sight,” I said with a grin.

Her eyes crinkled. “He did appear rather thunderstruck. Good for him. Now, dear, are you happy to mind the shop while I prepare us something to eat? I’ve got lots of fruit and vegetables and healthy things to keep you on the right track.”

I shrugged. It saved me from going out to grab a sandwich. “Sure. Thanks.”

She patted me on the shoulder. “Good girl.”

I watched her carefully for some kind of reaction now that she’d touched me. Mrs. Alcoon’s precognition wasn’t the strongest – it wasn’t even enough for the Ministry of Mages to take notice – but she did occasionally catch glimpses and snippets of the future that were often made stronger through physical contact. And she had been acting oddly of late. If that behaviour was somehow tied into what

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