“Just hanging out? That’s all you’re planning?” I’m very suspicious of this—Lexy always has an ulterior motive.

Lexy gives me a wide-eyed glance that’s just a little too innocent. “Of course. And also—”

But whatever else she was going to say is interrupted when the string of chimes hung over the door tinkle a musical warning. Someone is coming into the shop. A customer—time to be professional.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I tell Lexy.

“See you tonight.” She blows me a kiss and heads toward the door.

As Lexy is leaving, the customer is coming in. They brush shoulders and Lexy stops to lift her eyebrows suggestively at me behind his back. I make a quick shooing motion and point to the door. Now isn’t the time to flirt. She giggles and leaves, the chimes tinkling a second time as she flits gracefully through the door.

I put on my best 'I’m a professional witch' face and look up at the customer…and up and up. He’s tall—at least six foot five, which makes my own rather diminutive five four seem even shorter. He’s also handsome—all chiseled features, dark hair and broad shoulders. He’s even got one of those little clefts in his chin and some sexy stubble to go with it. No wonder Lexy was making eyes at me behind his back. On his right hand he wears a heavy gold ring with a strangely carved black stone. Onyx, maybe? I’m not sure. But I do know there’s something about him—a muted power I can feel thrumming in the air around him. I’m sure he’s a supernatural being but I can’t place what kind, exactly.

I get a chance to study him because he’s perusing a handwritten list, staring at it fiercely as though he’d like to burn a hole in it with his eyes.

“Yes, sir?” I say at last, when he continues to just stand there, looking at the list. “Can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” he snaps. “That is why I came here.” He’s wearing an expensive charcoal suit with a crisp white shirt and a solid red silk tie that looks like it cost more than my car. When he looks up, his eyes are cool gray, reminding me of a winter twilight.

Rich asshole, I think, but don’t say. “All right then,” I murmur smoothly. “If you’ll just tell me what kind of spell you’re trying to work—”

“These are the herbs I need,” he interrupts me, going back to the list. “Mugwort, serpentavia root, yarrow, rosemary—”

“Wait a minute.” I hold up a hand to stop him. “Do you need them fresh or dried?”

“How should I know?” he snaps. “You’re the expert—you tell me.”