Celeste watched as the Crawford boy stepped inside her showroom. He looked so much like his daddy at that age it was almost a crying shame his momma hadn’t lived long enough to see it.

Almost.

Kim Crawford had been one of the very few souls she’d collected for Asher that was older than their agreed upon arrangement. But seeing as how she bought the sin when she was still seventeen (and still technically Kim Evans), he’d allowed it. That girl had had it bad for Justin Crawford. But Justin was wild, he wasn’t about to settle down with a plain girl like Kim. Everyone knew it. Even Kim herself had known. It was the reason she’d come to the shop in the first place.

Like so many other young fools, she believed Celeste could give her something to make Justin fall in love with her. She really was a stupid girl. No potions or magic could create love…lust though, was an entirely different story. But she hadn’t wanted Lust. No. Not little Miss Perfect. She’d wanted head-over-heels love. The kind of love people wrote bad songs about. She’d dismissed the girl as the fool she was and told her not to come back until she’d gotten that idiot head of hers out of the damn clouds.

Then came the summer her little Angela came to visit - though there wasn't much little about her then. The second Justin Crawford saw her great niece, the town’s most eligible bad boy was struck hard and fast. He’d follow behind her like the tail on the back of a dog. Angela had developed early and was used to all that attention from boys – but something about Justin seemed to call to her. Any time Celeste let her off work, she was off and running with that Crawford boy on that loud motorcycle of his.

But Celeste knew people better than they knew themselves. The second Kim Evans spotted the love of her life following Angela like a lovesick puppy, she was back over at the shop just as quick as you please.

Celeste smiled at the memory. It had been so easy then. The girl wanted Justin all to herself sure, but that wasn’t all. This time when she came into the shop, she made it clear she wanted everything: Justin, money, a family, a house…and she didn’t want to share any of it with anybody. She bought greed that very day.

And she’d gotten everything she wanted. Celeste had sent Angela packing, after having a few choice words with her. She’d warned the girl to leave Justin Crawford be, otherwise he’d be joining her collection. Kim for her part had been too much of a dimwit to specify how long she wanted to keep her perfect little life with Justin. By the time she'd figured it out, they were married and her baby boy was already walking.

The second she’d gotten sick and been diagnosed with a terminal disease she was in her shop crying her eyes out, begging for more time. She would’ve had better luck getting tears out of a rock.

Now she watched Kim’s son as he made his way towards her. Kim’s blood ran through his veins, but it was his daddy’s blood that drew him to Eliza. It was always the same with those Crawford boys. They always wanted women they couldn’t have.

Some generations were smarter than others, but some were more susceptible to her particular wares. Justin’s father had resisted and Justin himself had never once stepped even as much as a toe inside her shop, but Kim Evans’s blood ran inside her son’s veins.

And that meant he’d come here to shop. Celeste waved him closer and started talking, satisfied as he hung onto every single word of her sales pitch.    

~~ ~

It was like watching a movie play out without the sound. I couldn’t hear what Celeste was saying to Chase only that she showed him something white and small, that easily fit in his pocket. He nodded once and shoved whatever she’d given him into one of his cargo pockets. Then Aunt Celeste leaned in close and kissed him on the lips.

Ew.

What had she told him? What was that kiss all about? What had she given him, and why had he felt the need to hide it from me? There were so many questions running inside my brain, I felt that watching the scene unfold had only worked to give me more questions than answers.

I leaned forward. “Dawn, what did she say to him? What did Aunt Celeste give him?”

“I don’t know, miss. The mirror inside the showroom was too far away.” Dawn looked behind her for a second before turning back around. “I have to go. You best get back upstairs miss.”

“Eliza. My name is Eliza.”

Dawn smiled. Good grief the girl really was so young, it broke my heart. “Then her face grew worried again. “Get back to bed, Eliza. You don’t want to be caught down here at this time of night.”

I nodded. Even though she was right, I still hated going back to bed. I hadn’t really found out anything new or had some great revelation --  all I knew for sure was that Chase was definitely hiding something from me. Something Aunt Celeste had given him inside her showroom and warned him not to tell anybody about.

And I had a deep suspicion like most secrets adults told you to keep, absolutely nothing good could possibly come out it.

~~ ~

“Well, did you show her?” Celeste asked her reflection. It instantly changed to reflect the soul of one of her very first captures.

She’d actually marked the girl’s older sister for the sin of Pride but Dawn had interfered at the last second, saving her sister Marguerite’s soul. Her virtuous act saved her sister’s soul from Celeste, but not before leaving her own vulnerable to capture. She couldn’t collect it for Asher, it was too pure, so she’d stuck it someplace she could keep an eye on it. 

It was a decision she’d never regretted. Dawn had proven herself quite useful over the last century. She could travel to any mirror within a limited area and go about unnoticed, gathering bits of information that Celeste used to mark people for Asher.

She never complained or put up a fuss like Dante did every great once and while. Then again, there was a reason why Dawn was always so eager to please.  

“I did, Madame,” the young girl nodded now, her eyes large and wide in the mirror.

Celeste narrowed her own as she studied the girl carefully. “Did you make sure she couldn’t hear what we talked about?” Dawn had never disobeyed a command, but Dante had been acting squirrely of late and it could be just as likely that Dawn would start acting out of line. She couldn’t be too careful about her help – especially not as close as she was to getting her quota in.

She nodded eagerly as she spoke, “Oui, just like you said. Show, don’t tell.” 

“Very good then, my dear,” Celeste turned away from the mirror but stopped as Dawn called out to her.  

“Madame! May I be with them now? Please, Madame…you promised I could.” The little spirit’s eyes filled with tears, “It has been so very long. Please, Madame.”  

Celeste was unmoved by the show of emotion. But a deal was a deal, if working for Asher all these years had taught her anything, it was that. She nodded slightly, “That I did.” She walked over to her desk and grabbed a small square mirror that had fallen out of a compact sometime in the 1970’s. She propped it up on one of the many shelves lining her private showroom.

The mirror faced an old glass ball, the kind with a small scene of a Mardi Gras celebration set inside it. The water had long since evaporated, and the flecks of confetti lined the bottom in faded pieces. Even the color of the small painted people inside the scene was well faded…all except for two. If she looked close, she could make out the faces of Dawn’s parents among the revelers. They were the only one’s not smiling or full of joy.

If she looked real close she could even see them blink once or twice through their identical frozen masks of horror. But Celeste never bothered to look. If she started that up, she’d never leave her private showroom floor. She was surrounded by her "treasures."

And these little treasures were all hers.

She shuffled her way into her bedroom, turning off the light as she went. She heard a small cry from the mirror that made Celeste smiled. She’d promised the girl she’d place the mirror next to her parents…she never said anything about making sure Dawn could actually see them.

The first rule in bargaining: The devil was always in the details.