Vendetta (Deadly Curiosities Book 2) by Gail Z. Martin

nodded in agreement, but I suspected my reasons were a little more concrete than Rick’s for avoiding a place that was a top tourist attraction. Charleston’s Old Jail had been the site of harsh judgment and human misery for a very long time, and deaths and suffering can permanently stain a building’s energy. That’s why so many locations that hit the ‘most haunted’ list tend to be abandoned hospitals, madhouses, battlefields, and penitentiaries. I’d also heard some of Sorren’s stories about the Old Jail, back when it still held prisoners and used its gallows. Just thinking about it made me touch the agate necklace around my throat for protection.
    “Let me know if they find the guy,” I said as I paid for the coffee and headed out the door. But deep inside, I know that no matter how hard the police searched, they weren’t going to turn up anything.
    My bad mood flooded back. You’re supposed to be protecting people in Charleston against the supernatural . Some job you’re doing. This is all your fault. I felt so overwhelmed with guilt that tears started and I blinked them back furiously.
    Wait a minute! I argued with myself. No one said I was supposed to know everything. We’re working on it. We’ll figure it out. I managed to push the wave of guilt back so that it didn’t stop me in my tracks, but the awful feeling lingered that I had let everyone down. Maybe I need to go to the doctor. This isn’t like me. I’m a pretty realistic person, and I’ve seen stuff working for the Alliance that would send most cops running for the hills, but I work at staying relatively optimistic. I have my faults, but pessimism isn’t usually one of them. Probably working too much . Overtired. I’ll take a nice, ghost-free vacation once we deal with the disappearances.
    As I left the café, I spotted the guy who had chatted me up about the latte sitting at a table by the window in a restaurant across the street. He saw me, waved and smiled, but made no move to call me over or get up. That was fine with me. I gave a half-hearted smile and wave, then walked briskly down the block.
    What bothered me about him? I still wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the too good-looking part. Something about Coffee Guy seemed fake, although I couldn’t put my finger on why. My gut feeling told me that Coffee Guy wasn’t what he seemed.
    And then there was the zap of magic when I brushed his hand. That didn’t happen often. Usually, only when I touched someone else who had magic. So that meant the stranger had some kind of power of his own, and from the look in his eyes when I got jolted, he didn’t like that my magic outed him. Curiouser and curiouser. And now there he was again, popping up along my path. Coincidence? Maybe. Stalker? Too soon to tell. Friend or foe? Not sure, but until proven otherwise, he goes in the ‘foe’ category .
    I cut through the Charleston City Market on my way to Forbidden City. The Market is the heart of historic Charleston, and buildings take up the main section of Market Square.
    Charlestonians have been buying produce, spices, and baked goods at the City Market for hundreds of years. Nowadays, shoppers can find fresh fruits and vegetables, locally-made jams, jellies, and pastries, artisan-roasted coffee, Charleston-raised tea, and a wide selection of craft and art objects sold by the people who made them.
    Walking through the City Market is my favorite way to lift my mood and clear my head. I shop there a lot, so many of the merchants know me. The smell of the coffee, pastries, and spices makes me happy, and I love to see so many beautiful things on display. I waved hello to friends as I walked by, although I didn’t stop to chat like I usually do.
    Near the main outside doors, sat an elderly woman and her daughter weaving beautiful, complex baskets from sweetgrass. Completed baskets lay on a large cloth on the ground near their feet. Charleston sweetgrass baskets are a local art, passed down from