"Psychology. I'm in an accelerated Masters program. I finish next June." The date sort of loomed over her. Steve was okay at managing the shop but he had never really taken to the witchy side of their heritage. He lacked the finesse and patience for spell craft, which was part of why the shop had fallen into her hands. A Masters degree in psych meant she could actually work with people and help them, whereas a bachelors meant she could make minimum wage working as a psych tech. The Masters program had held appeal before, but now she felt as if she had enough on her plate. Lane was no quitter, though, so she'd finish even if it killed her.<br/><br/>When the guy cornered her and placed a hand on her chin, she thought he might beat to it. There was something about him that felt eerie to her, like there was more to him than what she saw before her. The way he looked at her, just for that moment, reminded her of old movies where someone saw a person they had missed for a long time. Familiarity and maybe loss? She could not quite put her finger on it.<br/><br/>She scowled when he boiled her life down to a boring list of future anecdotes. Even if the idea of that might have sounded nice when worded differently or said by a different mouth, Lane had a defiant streak and she could only guess he might know that.<br/><br/>"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" She said aloud, not bothering to correct him, not yet at least. But the expression on her face was something of scowl, so he would have no doubt he struck some kind of nerve with her. Lane opened her mouth to respond about the book, but before she could, Steve appeared at the end of the row of shelves.<br/><br/>"Everything okay over there?" He asked. There was a smile on her brother's face, but she could tell he was guarded. He looked to Lane, then to James' fingers as they fiddled with her hair. His expression shifted to confused and Lane realized she better get some semblance of control over the situation, before her brother assumed something untoward was happening and went after their new customer. Her furrowed brows and slight frown disappeared and a somewhat cheery and bright demeanor returned.<br/><br/>"We're good. Fine. We're fine, Steve. In fact, if you'd do me a favor and close the shop tonight? It seems our guest needs some of the other kind of help I can provide. I'll explain later, I promise." She said with all the bubbly attitude she could muster.<br/><br/>"Well, just...Call me when you get home, okay Laney?" Steve asked.<br/><br/>"Yep, will do. Soon as I get home." She replied.<br/><br/>Steve gave James one last stern look and then disappeared back behind the shelves. Lane relaxed a little and then looked back at him as well.<br/><br/>"I didn't catch your name. It's a really weird thing to do, come in here, constantly insult me, avoid the expectations of polite conversation and then ask me for a rather secret family heirloom." She was still smiling, but it had tightened on her face in a way that clearly expressed she was not pleased. It all came down to one question, and it was a simple one. "Why would I help you?"<br/><br/>Lane had wanted to let his earlier comment on her "normal" life go, but she just couldn't. It nagged at her, pulled at the back of her mind, and she couldn't exactly ignore it. "I said I don't fuck with dark magic, that doesn't mean I intend to be ordinary. You don't know what the Hell you're talking about."