Page 121 of The Witching Hours

“You want me to pop quiz you on me?”

“Accepting that I’m telling the truth might make things go smoother.”

I inhaled a deep breath and pushed it out fast. “Third grade teacher.”

“Ms. Randall.”

“How did I like my first kiss?”

He screwed up his face and said, “It’s a wonder you ever tried it again.”

So true.

“What’s my favorite all time book?”

“Memnoch the Devil.”

“You are creeping me out and don’t tell me that’s not a real response or an appropriate response. Yes, the hell it is.”

“Does creeping you out equal believing what I tell you?”

“With reservations.”

“What reservations?”

“It means I’m rational. And skepticism is one of the pillars of rational thinking.”

He cocked his head and appeared to be mulling that over. “An interesting hardline for a person who demanded a custom designed degree in Myths, Legends, and Folklore.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“You said ‘interesting’. I like a good story. That doesn’t mean that my academic inquiry into the fanciful side of humanity makes me airy fairy.”

“I see. Well. There’s nothing wrong with proof.”

I grinned. “That’s what I always say!” As soon as I affirmed the shared philosophy, I realized he’d only said it because that’s what I always say. Of course, all the fun went out of it. “Okay. Stop it. Don’t do that again.”

“What? Quote you?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Very well. Would you like to look around?”

I accepted the invitation without answering and looked around at the grand curved staircase that rose to a mezzanine gallery. It was covered in rose carpet, not a choice modern merchants would usually make.

Next to the foot of the stairs was an elevator fashioned to look like a gilded birdcage. As impressive as it was, it couldn’t be called a focal point. There was too much competition. The walls were wainscoted in French provincial style with authentic-looking distressed blue. Above that were gorgeous murals of scenes from some of my favorite childhood stories. The colors were so rich the scenes appeared lifelike.

In short, there was too much to take in quickly. “You mean like a tour of the store? Is that part of my custom experience?”

“Certainly. By the way. Do you want to learn Chinese?”

“No,” I answered without hesitation, looking around without moving my feet. “How did you say I earned this experience again?”

“I didn’t say.”

“Now’s your chance.”

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