Witch Eyes by Scott Tracey Page B

my shop right at the moment. Most witches know better than to come here.”
    Sonofabitch. I whipped around, to see how many other people had heard the declaration. Seriously, was there something on my shirt? Some giant sign on my back?
    But no one else in the store seemed to be paying any attention. “Don’t go freaking out. I have a friend on the outside, lets me know when anyone interesting comes to town.”
    The only person who knew about me being a witch, besides Lucien and Jason, was Drew. “If you know what I can do, then you know I can handle what’s back there,” I pushed. The urge to do something pretty bad to Gregory was growing every time he opened his mouth.
    “I haven’t even Googled you yet,” Gregory chuckled with surprise. “I don’t know anything about you.”
    “Just what Drew told you about me, right?”
    Gregory’s eyes narrowed before he inclined his head. “What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Braden.” I relented. Only slightly.
    “Sorry, Braden. No adult, no access.” Gregory turned back to his computer and didn’t look up again.
    I sighed in annoyance. Freaking figures. I was walking out of the shop when inspiration struck. I grabbed my phone and scrolled through the tiny handful of numbers.
    “Hey, are you busy? I kinda need your help.”
    ¤ ¤ ¤
    Gregory looked up when I came back twenty minutes later, but didn’t say anything. Just a slight shake of his head.
    “He’s with me, Gregory. It’s okay. I’ll take full responsibility.” I turned to watch Trey follow me inside. He’d said an adult. He didn’t specify how old of one.
    Gregory’s expression didn’t waver, but he jutted his head toward the back. “Your mother know about him yet?”
    Trey winced, but recovered swiftly. “Don’t know what you mean. He’s just a friend.”
    I could see the wheels in Gregory’s head start turning, the way his eyes narrowed at the two of us. He opened his mouth, and I was sure he was going to say something even worse than normal stupidity. The word “witch” was going to hit the air, and Trey would never look at me the same way again.
    “Well, I’m going back then if it’s all settled,” I said quickly, shaking my head enough that my glasses started to slide down my nose. I was rather proud of the movement, as it lacked the dramatic implications but got the job done. Freed my eyes enough that when I glanced at Gregory, I had enough time to slam the spell into place before the words slipped out of his mouth.
    Gray and black and silver, shades all too different from one another for there to be any blurring. A silence spell, one that John had used with glee when I was younger. It barely required any thought at all—I’d seen the spell often enough that even without my vision, I could duplicate it.
    There was nothing but blissful silence as I followed Trey into the back room, hidden in a corner I hadn’t noticed before. I pushed the glasses back up my nose, glancing over at Gregory as I did so. His mouth opened and closed several times, and then he resorted to furious typing at the keyboard as we left the room.
    “You really believe in all this stuf f ?” Trey asked, flipping through a box of quartz crystals set up near the landing. The door had opened onto a stairway. The second floor of Gregory’s ’Mix was devoted entirely to the supernatural. Books lined the walls, and it was pretty much every cliché I could have thought of. There were even authentic voodoo dolls hung up on one portion of the wall, complete with an authentic price tag: $49.95.
    “Sure, I guess. Everything’s got a spirit,” I said lightly. “You don’t have to babysit, you know. I’m fine on my own.”
    Trey glanced up at me from the voodoo dolls. “Sure you are,” he said.
    “I am,” I repeated, trying to sound more stern.
    “I’m not arguing,” he said, holding up his hands in a classic “I surrender” pose. His smile, however, was more mischievous than anything else. It was almost