The protective net of magic around Divine's chimed pleasantly just then. Maurice had grown sensitive enough to the magic resonance of the people who regularly came into Divine's to sometimes identify them before he saw them.
"Lanie, right?" he said, and spun around in mid-air to follow Angela as she moved out of the room to the main entryway of the store.
The door swung open without anyone touching it--courtesy of Lanie Zephyr's telekinetic talent--and a moment later her wheelchair bumped up the last two shallow steps to enter the shop. The dark-haired woman paused a moment to shake the damp from her hair before rolling through the open doorway.
The weather was cold, but not cold enough to produce snow or even ice yet. The air was filled with a thick, icy fog. Maurice looked past Lanie at the street. So far, her Jeep was the only vehicle parked out there yet. Soon, though, the entire dead end street would be jammed with cars. Hopefully, the soil of the empty lots on either side of Divine's was frozen hard enough to allow parking. Angela's decorating party was the annual kick-off for the Christmas season in Neighborlee.
"So where are her brothers and that goof-ball boss of hers?" Maurice swooped around to keep pace with Lanie as she rolled down the aisle between the shelves to the main room.
The next moment, pressure wrapped around him, not crushing but holding him still. It occurred to him that this was what a tractor beam felt like on Star Trek.
"I'm not crazy, am I?" Lanie mused, as the force pulled Maurice forward to hover about a foot in front of her nose. "Angela, do I get slapped if I clap my hands and say 'I do, I do, I do believe in faeries'?"
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