They were up and hard at work when we got back, and I thought I’d have to confiscate the books to get Owen to stop working long enough to eat. Hours later, there were pages of notes in Owen’s textbook-perfect handwriting scattered all over the room. When he and Merlin seemed to have come to an agreement, Owen said, “We’ll need some supplies for a spell to pinpoint what’s going on.” He handed me a sheet of paper. “I doubt there are any magic supply shops nearby, but you can probably find some reasonable substitutes. Where I thought of obvious ones, I made a note.”

“Maybe you should come with me,” I said, skimming the page.

“You’ll do fine. I’ve got some things to work out.” And then he buried his nose again in his book.

Ethan handed me his credit card. “Here, use this. There’s a shop off the motel lobby that seemed to have a good variety of stuff, and they think you’re my wife, anyway. I’d better stay here and keep an eye on them.” Then he handed me his car keys. “But if you need to go elsewhere, you can take my car.” I wasn’t sure which was the bigger responsibility, getting the right ingredients for a spell to help save the magical world, or driving Ethan’s Mercedes.

I took another look at Owen’s list so I could decide where to look. He needed candles and several kinds of herbs, some of which were the kind you cooked with and some that weren’t. He also wanted a map of Manhattan—which, if I knew Ethan, would be in his car’s glove compartment—a metallic powder, a compass (something else I suspected would be in the glove compartment, unless it was built into the car’s navigation system), aspirin, air freshener spray, several ashtrays, and salt. I couldn’t begin to imagine what spell he was going to MacGyver with all that stuff, but I thought I’d first try the motel shop.

I expected the typical motel shop—a cross between a convenience store and a souvenir shop stocked with necessities like aspirin in overpriced small containers, razors, and toothbrushes, as well as travel-related and souvenir items, like maps, postcards, and T-shirts and spoons with slogans about the local area.

This wasn’t that kind of shop.

Chapter Ten

This was the kind of shop that wouldn’t even be possible in my hometown. Let’s just say it catered to the honeymooning customer. If you looked in the mirror on the ceiling over your bed and thought you’d look better with body glitter, then you could dash across the parking lot and get it, along with several varieties of flavored lotions and powders, feathers in every color of the rainbow, bubble bath to use in that heart-shaped tub, and, of course, edible underwear, in case you worked up an appetite.

The motel’s manager came over from the office, and she noticed me before I could sneak away. “Hi there, how can I help you?” she asked.

I backed away a step or two. “Um, well, I was looking for some things, but this probably isn’t the right shop for me.”

“Oh, you’re the new wife from that couple who checked in late last night, aren’t you? Eloped, your husband said. I guess if you were in such a hurry, you must have forgotten something.”

Ah, so that was the story Ethan had told about why he wanted a honeymoon suite and hadn’t made a reservation. “Yeah, that would be us. And I did forget a few things.” I gave the display a sidelong glance and shuddered. “But not those kinds of things.”

She laughed heartily. “Don’t worry about the up-front merchandise. That’s just for show. I’ve got all kinds of stuff. What do you need?”

I looked at the list again, and there actually was an off chance that this shop would stock some of it. “I need some candles—but nothing scented. White if you’ve got them.”

“Of course we’ve got candles. Come on over here.” She led me to the other side of the store, which looked more like the motel shop I’d been expecting. “Candlelight in all those mirrors is very flattering. It makes your skin glow, and it hides a lot of figure flaws. Just don’t burn your room down,” she added with a wink.

She pointed at a shelf full of candles in ceramic holders. They all had various bride and groom figures and the legend “Our honeymoon in the Poconos.” Oh yeah, that was exactly what I wanted to buy to use with my boyfriend, my ex-boyfriend, and my boss, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The woman got me a shopping basket and I put four of the candles in there.

“Do you need some matches?” the woman asked.

Owen could start fires with a snap of his fingers, so I shook my head and said, “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”