The Apothecary (The Lost Keepers Book 3) Read online

  The Apothecary

  The Lost Keepers #3

  AR Colbert

  Ramsey Street Books

  Copyright © 2021 AR Colbert

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Previously in The Lost Keepers…

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  A DEEPER LOOK

  ABOUT THE SERIES

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Previously in The Lost Keepers…

  Everly and Sean go to the Hamptons to seek out an old friend of Sean’s named Gayla, who has visionary powers. Unfortunately, Gayla’s powers are not very well-developed yet, and she can’t see anything about the tablet or Everly’s mother.

  While they are there, Everly runs into Rossel, but he pretends he doesn’t know her or anything about her missing mother. Everly knows it’s a lie, especially when he later comes back to tell her to stay away from his apprentice, Gayla.

  Another close call with Tate has Everly on edge, but she still shows no signs of powers of her own. She leaves without any further information, but she has gained two new friends. Gayla and Dom agree to help Everly get to the bottom of her mother’s disappearance. They join her back in New York City for the beginning of their Freshman year at college.

  CHAPTER 1

  “He’s cute. Maybe you should look into that program.”

  Gayla pointed to a photo of a sharply dressed young man giving a PowerPoint presentation in a glossy brochure. I had several others just like it laying out across the countertop in the kitchen of her and Dom’s new apartment. Each represented a different academic program at NYU. I was still stumped about which major I would declare, and the first day of school was just a week away. Unfortunately, none of those glossy photos was calling my name.

  “He’s a professor,” I said, reading the caption below the image. “Of Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering. Hard pass.”

  “I could see you working as a chemical engineer,” Dom piped in as she poured a glass of water. “I bet you’d ace that program.”

  “Of course I would. I have a photographic memory. I can ace any program, but that doesn’t mean I want to.”

  “And you’re so humble, too,” Gayla said with a laugh.

  I shrugged. “It’s not bragging if it’s true.”

  Dom slid a bowl full of grapes in my direction, and I popped one into my mouth. Watching my friends do the same, I suddenly understood how the ancient Greeks mistook the Olympians for gods and goddesses. They looked awfully magical even in a New York City apartment.

  “That’s exactly why you should hard pass on NYU altogether and come to Columbia with us, instead.”

  “I can’t,” I sighed. “I told you. I’m not Columbia material.”

  “You’re exactly Columbia material. Probably half of the student population is made up of Keepers.”

  “It’s nowhere near half—” Dom interrupted.

  “Well, a lot, anyway,” Gayla conceded. “Plus, you already got accepted.”

  “And I declined it.”

  “Bah—paperwork. It’s a simple fix,” Gayla said with a wave of her hand. “At least let us show you around before you decide for sure. I promise you will love it when you see it through our eyes.”

  “If it will get you to stop pestering me about it, then fine. I will let you show me around. But don’t get your hopes up. I’ve been dreaming of attending NYU for forever. It’s iconic.”

  “More iconic than Columbia?”

  “They’re both very iconic, girls.” Dom gave us a matronly smile. Gayla and I weren’t really fighting, of course, we both just had strong opinions. But Dom wasn’t a fan of conflict—even in jest.

  “You’re right, Mama Dom.” Gayla smiled warmly at her friend and turned back to me. “So when do we get to give you the grand tour?”

  “Not today.” I glanced at my watch. “I told Millie I’d head down to the shop and help her out. Maybe tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Perfect.” Gayla’s face lit up. “I can’t wait!”

  I grabbed my purse, checked to make sure the clay tablet was tucked safely inside, and headed for the door. It was probably silly to carry the artifact around with me everywhere, but I couldn’t bear to leave it behind. It was too valuable to me. And I still didn’t know the extent of its powers, just that it had a lot. If it ended up in the wrong hands, it could mean bad news for me, and maybe for my mom, too. Wherever she was.

  “By the way,” Dom said on my way out the door. “Sean’s coming over for pizza tonight. You should swing by too, after work.”

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you guys later!”

  Speaking of Sean, he leaned against the wall just outside of the entrance to their apartment building, waiting to escort me to Millie’s shop.

  “Morning!” I smiled. He grunted in return, slowly leaning forward off the side of the building. I grimaced. “Do you need some coffee?”

  “No.” He stormed off ahead of me down the sidewalk.

  “Why the sour mood, then?”

  “I’m not sour, I’m fine.”

  “Hmph.” I scuttled ahead, trying to keep up with him. I didn’t like having him as a bodyguard anymore than he liked tagging along with me everywhere, but he’d never been quite so grumpy about it before. “You know, you don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Follow me around everywhere. I won’t say a word to Millie or your mom.”

  “They’d find out, anyway. If they want me to act as your guard, then that’s my assignment. Official or not. But I don’t mind it anyway.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “Look, I’m just not very excited about going into your aunt’s shop this morning.”

  “Why not?”

  “Abby’s back in today.”

  Oooh, Abby. I remembered how he got all extra-concerned at the mention of her before we left town for the Hamptons. But before I could ask him any more about it we’d reached my aunt’s shop. Technically, it was a pharmacy. And like many pharmacies, it had a little gift shop attached. But that was where it’s normalcy ended.

  The sign outside simply read Apothecary. That’s it. No branding of any kind. It was painted in white letters on a black sign, looking like it may have come straight out of the early 1900s. Maybe it had.

  Walking through the doors was like stepping into another world. Bundles of dried flowers and herbs hung sporadically from the ceiling. Giant antique wood tables sat in the middle of the room—one full of beauty products complete with an ornate round mirror in a sterling silver frame, and the other full of bath and body products surrounding an enormous copper wash basin built into the center of the old table. The walls were lined with ten-foot tall wooden cabinets, trimmed with great detail—arching frames, etched glass-fronted cabinet doors, and shelves on shelves on shelves. Glass bottles in various shapes and sizes held various pills and poultice
s and herbal concoctions. One shelf was designated for my aunt’s natural tea blends.

  Millie and a petite brunette girl stood in black aprons behind an old fashioned soda fountain style counter, though the actual soda fountain had been long removed. Behind them a set of thick, velvety, emerald green drapes hung from the ceiling to the floor, separating the front of the store from the private employees’ area in the back of the shop.

  It was a lot to take in, this strange mix of witchy wonders and hippy remedies and 1950s aesthetic all blended into one high-end Manhattan pharmacy. But it was quintessentially Millie.

  “Good morning!” Millie beamed from the opposite side of the counter. “Come in, come in. I want you to meet Abby.”

  The girl bashfully smiled and extended her hand. I couldn’t help but notice Sean’s cheeks grow pink as he met her eyes. “Hi, Abby. I’m Everly.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face with the name.” She shook my hand then looked behind me. “Hi, Sean. I haven’t seen you around in a while.” Abby’s cheeks grew red as well, and she nervously began fidgeting with the hem of her apron.

  “Yes, well…” Millie stacked up the papers she’d been examining and set them to the side. “Where should we begin?”

  The door chimed as a customer entered behind us. I pulled Sean to the side so I could watch my aunt and Abby in action. I’d spent enough time down at the feed store back home to understand customer service, but I didn’t know the slightest thing about the potions and salves and herbal remedies surrounding us now. I was content to sit back and see how they handled it.

  “Good morning, sir. Is there something we can help you find today?”

  The man was probably an inch or two shy of six feet, with walnut-colored hair and hazel eyes. He didn’t fit any of the standard descriptions of Keepers, but then again, Agarthians could look however they wanted. I leaned into Sean. “What is he?”

  Sean whispered back, “I don’t sense any powers. He’s just a human.”

  “Does Millie serve humans?”

  “Of course,” Sean chuckled.

  Okay. Well, the stuff in these bottles must have been approved by mortal laws, then. I browsed the labels, wondering how she ever got away with selling things like “Dragon’s Blood,” and if the words beneath the label (dracaena draco) were code for the dragon’s region or if it might actually be a nickname for some kind of herb. I hoped the latter, otherwise Millie had a lot more explaining to do.

  She flitted around the edges of the shop, helping the man find all the items from his surprisingly long shopping list. And I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone look as happy as he did by the end of it. He tossed in a stick of black licorice at the counter as he was checking out, and left with a smile as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge.

  “Wow, Millie. You really made his day.”

  “Healing is a beautiful thing. Many of my customers have been burned by traditional medicine and doctors, so they turn to me for more natural solutions to their problems.”

  “That’s so cool that you’re able to help.”

  She sighed. “I wish I could help everyone. How’s your father doing today, Abby?”

  Abby raised a shoulder. “About the same, I guess. I just don’t know what to do anymore. One minute he’s totally high on life—full of energy and excited about the future. But when he crashes, he crashes hard. Lower each time. I honestly wasn’t sure if he was going to make it through the weekend.”

  Millie frowned. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. And you’re sure that he’s not… using anything illicit?”

  Abby’s eyes grew wide. “No! No, of course not. My dad is a lot of things, but he’s not a drug user. Especially not now. He’s so wrapped up in this new business plan of his that he would die before he’d jeopardize things with drugs. He doesn’t even drink wine with dinner anymore!”

  “Hmm.” Millie looked unconvinced. “Well, I keep meaning to swing by and check on him, we’ve just been so busy here.”

  “Go now,” Sean said. “I can watch the shop while you’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah—I’ve done it loads of times before. I can handle it for an hour. Take Everly. I’m sure she’d love to meet Mr. Mason, and maybe you could teach her a thing or two about your business while you walk.”

  “Does that sound like something you’d like to do?” Millie asked me.

  “Sure,” I shrugged. Sean looked pretty eager to get us out of there. I suspected it had something to do with Abby. I looked at the girl. “Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes—absolutely! Millie is like a miracle worker. I would love to bring you guys over to see my dad. He could really use your help.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Abby continued to elaborate on her father’s symptoms as we walked. Millie’s electric blue heels gave us a steady cadence as we walked the six blocks to Abby’s apartment.

  “Do you remember when exactly all of this began?” Millie asked.

  Abby thought for a moment. “I want to say it was right around the Fourth of July. We usually drive out to see my cousins and shoot fireworks, but he wasn’t feeling well that day. It may have been before that, but that’s the first instance I specifically remember.”

  “I see. And did anything else in his life change around that time? Maybe a new diet or a different gym? A new hobby?”

  “No. Dad has been decidedly anti-social since my great aunt Linda passed away in the spring. I think her finances were a mess, so he’s been working with her attorneys to get everything sorted out… when he’s feeling up to it, that is.”

  “I see. Well, should we give him a call before we go up?”

  “No. I’ll go in first to make sure he’s not asleep or anything. He’ll be happy to see you.” Abby stepped up to the door tucked under a green awning, and we followed her inside and across a quaint lobby toward the elevator. The building was clean and quiet, with an attendant ready to accept packages and greet guests.

  Abby’s apartment was on the fourth floor. After giving her a minute to ensure her father was awake, we followed her inside. The apartment was small but tidy, with charming herringbone wood floors and tall ceilings. The windows looked out to the building next door, but they let in enough light to offer a cheery vibe to the living area. To one side were doors to two bedrooms separated by a single bathroom. The other side held the kitchen and a small eat-in dining area. A middle aged woman with dark hair and deep set frown lines stood in the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher.

  Abby’s father laid under a blanket on the couch, and he set his copy of the Wall Street Journal on the coffee table as we entered.

  “Millie Gordon.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were bloodshot and framed inside dark circles.

  “Mitch Mason,” she smiled back. “It’s been too long. Oh, no—don’t stand. There’s no need to be formal with me.” She sat beside Abby’s father on the couch. “You look like you’re feeling better today.”

  “Spry as a kitten,” he laughed. If this was good for him, I hated to think how he looked at his worst.

  The woman in the kitchen hummed a song that sounded almost like a lullaby as she closed the dishwasher and dried her hands on a tea towel. I turned to Abby, who had been shooting me curious glances since we entered, and raised a brow, jerking my chin toward the kitchen. She responded by silently mouthing, “housekeeper.”

  It felt rude to stand around and listen in on Millie and Mitch’s conversation. “Can I have a tour?” I asked Abby.

  She looked embarrassed. “There’s not much to see.”

  “Compared to where I’m from, everything in New York is worth seeing.”

  Abby nodded and gave me a quick walk through the place. Her room was narrow, with a twin sized bed pushed up against one wall, its pink comforter well-loved and probably used since she was a little girl. A full length mirror stood propped up in the corner, with pictures of Abby and her friends tucked in around the frame.
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br />   The bathroom held a pedestal sink and a small rolling cart with a hairdryer hanging out of the drawer. And her father’s room wasn’t much larger than hers. But the apartment had character and a homey feel that I couldn’t help but find endearing.

  Back in the living room we saw the housekeeper standing at the opposite end of the couch from Millie. “All finished Mr. Mason, and I left that information you requested on the counter. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

  “No, thank you, Nikki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The woman nodded and ducked out of the room, giving Millie a wide berth as she passed.

  Abby and I moved toward the kitchen, grabbing seats at the two-person cafe table sitting just off to the side. “I figured we could let them talk in peace,” she said.

  “For a bit,” I agreed. “But Millie could go on all day, so feel free to kick us out if you think your dad needs some more rest.”

  Abby grinned and looked down to the table, picking at some spot only she could see. It struck me that she already knew that about my aunt. She probably knew Millie better than I did.

  “I’m sure he’ll be okay,” I said, not really certain at all. But if there was anyone who could get to the bottom of what was causing Mitch’s illness, it was Millie. He was in good hands.

  Abby’s smile faded and she pressed her lips together. Her expression had changed when she looked back up to me. “So, I hear you’re going to Columbia.”

  “Ha, you heard wrong. Did Millie tell you that?”

  She nodded.

  “She would like for me to go to Columbia, but I’m enrolled at NYU.”

  “Oh, nice. What are you studying?”

  Good question. “I don’t know yet. What about you? Where are you going?”

  She looked back to the table. “I’m actually taking the year off to care for my dad. Millie was gracious enough to offer me full time employment at the shop.”