Dawn of Eve - MJ Howson (read full novel .txt) 📗

Dawn awoke the following morning, relieved to have made it through the night without any bad dreams. She started her Saturday with her usual late-morning routine of taking the High Line to Hudson Yards to get her coffee and pastry. Dawn was disappointed to find Joe wasn’t around. She’d hoped to tell him about her session with Dr. Cole. She shrugged it off and headed south.

The 10th Avenue bleachers were busy this morning. The shady bench Dawn usually sat on felt too chilly, so she leaned over the railing, taking in the sun’s rays as she scanned the people sprawled out in the stadium seating. A young man was sitting several feet from her, a couple of rows from the windows overlooking the street below. He was tall, young, and fit. His black hair and chiseled features reminded her of Jacob. Dawn began to wonder if it actually was Jacob. The stranger glanced up at her, revealing a frown and no scar across his face.

While people-watching, something brushed up against Dawn’s right leg. She glanced down to see a black cat making a figure eight around her black denim jeans. Dawn removed her sunglasses and leaned down to pet it, but the cat scampered away, heading south.

“A cat,” Dawn said. She laughed and pulled her phone from her pocket. “A cat’s not what I need.”

Dawn sent a text to Jacob.

Are we still on for lunch later?

She waited a bit but gave up and slid her phone back into her black raincoat’s pocket. Dawn finished her coffee and pastry and decided to head further south, in the direction the cat had gone. Perhaps a trip to Greenwich Village was in order. She needed a change of scenery and loved the quirky shops she’d often discover there.

Just as Dawn reached the end of the High Line, her phone buzzed. She flipped her sunglasses up to see the message was from Jacob.

I need to cancel. Last minute client.

Dawn glared at the screen before shoving the phone back into her pocket. She couldn’t believe he canceled on her. Dawn descended the stairs at Gansevoort Street and continued south along Washington Street. This part of the road was devoid of shops and restaurants. The din from the bumper to bumper traffic coupled with the acrid exhaust fumes did little to brighten her mood.

Just as Dawn reached the Charles Street intersection, the light turned red. She looked up and down the street, wondering if she should wait for the light to change or do some exploring. A familiar tickle around her legs made her smile. Dawn looked down, expecting to see the black cat from the High Line. Instead, a white cat was rubbing its nose against her calf.

“Another cat? How . . . odd.” Dawn reached down to pet the cat, but it ran off down Charles Street. “Wait!”

The cat zig-zagged down the sidewalk, circling trees, looking back at Dawn from time to time. Whenever she got within a few feet of the animal, the anxious feline would dart across the street. Finally, the cat ran down a set of stone stairs and came to a halt in front of a wood-framed glass door. Dawn noticed the cat didn’t have a collar. She descended the seven steps as slowly as possible so as not to frighten the animal. She extended her hand, and the cat stepped forward and sniffed her fingertips.

Dawn found the cat’s green eyes to be quite mesmerizing. Now that she had it cornered, she needed to figure out what to do next. Dawn opened both palms to try and show the animal she intended no harm. The door behind the cat opened, and the animal spun around and ran inside.

“No!” Dawn stood up. “Damnit.”

An elderly man excused himself as he walked past Dawn, closing the door behind him. Dawn took a step back, removed her sunglasses, and looked at the entryway in front of her. The sound of chains creaking and clinking overhead caused her to look up. A weathered hand-carved wooden sign hanging above the door swung loosely in the breeze. The dark walnut wood was riddled with cracks from years of changing seasons. Gold-painted letters carved deep into the sign spelled out the store’s name.

Zuni – Store of Wonders

A plastic sign on the opposite side of the glass door indicated the store was open. Dawn twisted the door handle and stepped inside, causing a small brass bell to ring.

Zuni was a drab, poorly lit, compact store filled with stale air. Less than twelve feet separated the entry from the counter along the back wall. The room’s right side had a pair of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with an odd assortment of items, including books, statues, and goblets. A rack of clothing, primarily furs and gowns, was positioned in front of the bookcases. The opposite side of the room included a few different tables with lamps, candles, and more statues. The wall behind it had several framed pieces of art, including tapestries.

The white cat sat on the back counter–a three-shelf glass-faced display case that ran almost the store’s entire width. The wall behind the counter included a mix of paintings, mirrors, photos, and even a pair of ominous-looking swords. The framed artwork spanned every category, from haunted-looking portraits to nautical charts of the Aegean Sea. The center of the back wall included a doorway with a set of swinging saloon-style slatted wood doors that led to the storage room.

“Hello?” Dawn called out.

Janet appeared behind the swinging doors. Only the top half of her head was visible, her thick bifocals dangling from the edge of her nose. Her short frazzled black hair barely reached her shoulders. The baggy black pants and gray long-sleeved smock covering Janet matched the dreary feel of the store.

“Welcome to Zuni,” Janet said. She pushed past the saloon doors and rested the spectacles atop her head.

“Hi,” Dawn said. She pointed at the white cat, now sprawled atop the counter, licking its leg. “I’m sorry. I . . . I