Cant make a move without consulting the cards, the stars, what have you. He nods. Though Im guessing you gathered your share of regulars in the course of all the readings youve given. He glances over his shoulder as he opens the door, eyes narrowed, knowing, in a way I cant miss.
About that I start, figuring I may as well confess since hes obviously on to me anyway.
But he just turns, hand raised, determined to stop me when he says, Please, no confessionals. Smiling and shaking his head. If I have any hope of enjoying those huge swells out there, then I dont have the luxury of regretting my decision. Though you might want to rethink that bit about it being a gift.
I look at him, surprised to hear him say that since all the psychics Ive met, which, okay, pretty much consists of just Ava, but still, most of them think its most certainly something youre born with.
Im thinking of adding some classes to the schedule, psychic development stuff, maybe even throw in some Wicca as well, and trust me, well get a lot more sign-ups if everyone thinks they have a fair shot.
But do they? I ask, watching as he heads for an extremely messy desk and riffles through a pile of papers near the edge.
Sure. He nods, picking up a sheet, looking it over, then shaking his head as he swaps it for another. Everyone has the potential, its just a matter of developing it. With some it comes easy, they couldnt ignore it if they tried, with othersthey have to dig a little deeper to find it. And you? When did you know?
He looks at me, those sea green eyes meeting mine in a way that makes my stomach dance. I mean, one minute hes talking abstractedly, thumbing through papers as though hes barely minding his words, then the next everything stops, his gaze is on mine, and its like time has stood still.
I swallow hard, unsure what to say, part of me longing to confess, knowing hes one of the few who would understand, but the other part resistsDamens the only one who knows my story, and I feel like I should keep it that way.
Just born with it, I guess. I lift my shoulders, cringing at the way my voice rose at the end. My eyes dart around the room, hoping to avoid the topic as well as his gaze when I add, Soclasses. Whos teaching those?
He shrugs, tilting his head in a way that allows his dread-locks to fall into his face. Guess I will, he says, pushing them back and revealing the scar on his brow. Its something Ive been wanting to do for a while anyway, but Linas always been against it. I figure I may as well take advantage of her not being here to see if it works.
Whys she against it? I ask, stomach settling when he leans back and props his feet on his desk.
She likes to keep it simplebooks, music, angel figurines, with the occasional reading thrown in. Safe. Benign. Mainstream mysticism where no one gets hurt.
And your way? People get hurt? I study him, trying to pinpoint just what it is about him that sets me on edge.
Not at all. My goal is to empower people, help them live better, more fulfilled lives, by accessing their own intuition, thats all. He glances at me, green eyes catching me staring, making my stomach go weird again.
And Lina doesnt want to empower people? I ask, feeling all fluttery under his gaze.
With knowledge comes power. And since power tends to corrupt, she thinks its too big a risk. Even though Ive got no plans to go anywhere near the dark arts, shes convinced theyll find their way in, that the classes I teach will only lead to harder, darker stuff.
I nod, thinking of Roman and Drina and definitely seeing Linas point. Power in the wrong hands is indeed a dangerous thing.
Anyway, you interested? He smiles.
My eyes meet his, unsure what he means.
In teaching a class?
I balk, wondering if hes joking or serious, then seeing hes neither, just putting it out there. Trust me, I dont know the first thing about Wicca, oror any of it really. Ive no idea how it works. Im better off just giving the occasional reading, and maybe even trying to organize this mess. I gesture toward his desk, the shelves, just about every available surface thats buried beneath a mound of papers and junk.
I was hoping youd say that. He laughs. Oh, and just so you know, I clocked out the moment you walked in. Gone surfing if anyone asks. He gets up, moving toward the surfboard leaning against the far wall. I dont expect you to get it completely organized or anything, its too big a mess. But if you could get it into some kind of order, well He nods, looking at me. You just might get a gold star.
Id rather have a plaque, I say, pretending to be serious. You know, something nice that I can hang on the wall. Or even a statuette. Or a trophya trophy would be good.
How about your own parking space out back? I can probably swing that.
Trust me, you already have. I laugh.
Yeah, but this one will have your name on it. Reserved for you only. No one will be allowed to park in it, not even off hours. Ill post a big warning that reads: CAUTION! THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR AVALON ONLY. ALL OTHERS WILL BE TOWED AWAY AT THEIR OWN EXPENSE.
Youd do that? For reals? I laugh, eyes meeting his.
He grabs his board, fingers gripping the edge as he heaves it under his arm. You get this place cleaned up and theres no limit to the rewards that await you. Today Employee of the Month, tomorrow He shrugs, tossing his dreads off his forehead and exposing his amazingly cute face.
Our gazes lock, and I know hes caught me againcaught me lookingwonderingthinking hes cute. So I quickly look away, scratching at my arm, fiddling with my sleeve, anything to move past this moment toward something less awkward.
Theres a monitor in the corner there. He nods toward the far wall, back to business again. That, combined with the bell on the door, should alert you to anyone coming in when youre working back here.
That, the bell on the door, and the fact that Im psychic, I say, trying to sound lighthearted, though my voice is a little shaky, having not fully recovered from the awkwardness before.
Like the way you accessed your powers when I snuck up on you? he asks, smiling in a nice open way, though his eyes are holding back.
That was different. I shrug. You obviously know how to shield your energy. Most people dont.
And you know how to shield your aura. He squints, head cocked to the side, those golden dreadlocks falling halfway down his arm as he focuses in on my right. But Im sure well get to that later.
I swallow hard, pretending not to notice how his vibrant yellow aura goes a little pink at the edges.
Anyway, its all pretty self-explanatory. The files need to be alphabetized, and if you could separate em by subject, thatd be great. Oh, and dont bother tagging the crystals or herbs if youre not familiar with them, Id hate to get em confused. Though if you are familiar He smiles, brow raised in such a way I immediately start scratching my arm again.
I gaze at the gleaming piles of crystals, some of which I recognize from the elixirs I made and the amulet I wear at my neck, but most of which are so foreign theyre not even vaguely familiar.
Do you have a book or something? I ask, hoping he does since Id love to learn more about their amazing abilities. You know, so I canFind a way to sleep with my immortal boyfriend somedayso I can get them all tagged properlyandstuff. I nod, hoping to appear like a hard worker rather than the self-motivated slacker I am. Watching as he drops his surfboard and turns back toward his desk, shuffling through a pile of books and retrieving a small, thick, well-worn tome from the bottom of the stack.
Turning it over in his hands, and gazing at the back when he says, This has it all. If a crystals not in it, it doesnt exist. Its also loaded with pictures so you can identify them. Anyway, it should help, he adds, tossing it to me.
I catch it between the palms of my hands, its pages vibrating with life as the contents surge through me. The entire book now imprinted on my brain as I smile and say, Believe me, it already has.
CHAPTER 21
I stare at the monitor, making sure Jude has left before taking the seat behind the desk and gazing at the pile of crystals. Knowing the book alone wasnt enoughthey need to be handled to be understood. But just as I reach for a large red rock marked by streaks of yellow, my knee knocks against the side of the desk, and my entire body grows itchy and warma sure sign that something needs my attention.
I push the chair back and lean forward, peering under the desk, noticing how the sensation grows stronger the lower I go. Following the feeling until Ive slid off my seat and dropped to the floor, fumbling around for the source, the tips of my fingers growing unbearably hot the second I touch the bottom left drawer.
I lean back on my heels, squinting at the old brass lockthe kind of deterrent meant to keep honest people honest, and dissuade those who dont know how to manipulate energy like meclosing my eyes as I ease the drawer open, only to find a pile of hanging files that are no longer hanging, an ancient calculator, and a pile of old and yellowed receipts. Just about to close it again when I sense the false bottom beneath.
I scoop up the papers and toss them aside before lifting the hatch and exposing an old, worn, leather-bound tome, its pages curled and fraying like a lost ancient scroll, the words Book of Shadows inscribed on its front. I place it onto the desk before me, then sit there and stare. Wondering why someone would go to so much trouble to keep this book hiddenand from whom?
Is Lina hiding it from Jude?
Or is it the other way around?
And since theres only one way to find out, I close my eyes and press my palm to its front, planning to read it in my usual way until Im slammed by a surge of energy so intense, so frenetic, so chaoticit practically snap crackles my bones.
Im hurled backward, my chair hitting the wall with such force it leaves a huge dent. The flickering remnants of random images still quivering before me, and knowing full well why it was hiddenits a book of witchcraft and spells. Divinations and incantations. Containing powers so potent it would be completely catastrophic in the wrong hands.
I steady my breath and stare at the cover, calming myself before I attempt to thumb through it. Fingers twitching, touching only the edges, as I peer at a cursive so small its nearly impossible to decipher. The bulk of the pages inscribed with all manner of symbols, reminding me of the alchemical journals Damens father used to keepcarefully written in code in order to protect the secrets within.
I flip to the middle, taking in a fine, detailed sketch of a group of people dancing under a full moon, followed by those of similar people engaged in complex rituals. Fingers hovering above the scratchy old paper and suddenly knowing deep in my bones that this is no mistake. I was meant to find this book.
Just like Roman hypnotized my classmates and put them all under his spell, all I have to do is weave the right incantation to convince him to divulge the information I need!
I turn the page, eager to find the right one, just as the bell on the shop door rings and I peer at the monitor to confirm it. Unwilling to budge til Im sure theyre not going to turn right around and leave, that theyre truly committed to staying. Watching as the small, slim, black-and-white figure makes her way through the roomnervously glancing over her shoulder as though expecting to find someone there. And just as Im hoping shell leave, she goes straight for the counter, places her hands on the glass, and waits patiently.
Great. I get up from the desk. Just what I needa customer. Calling, Can I help you? before Ive even had a chance to turn the corner and see that its Honor.
The second she sees me she gasps, jaw dropping, eyes widening, appearing almostfrightened? The two of us gape at each other, wondering how to move past this.
Um, do you need something? I say, voice sounding more confident than I feel, as though I really am in charge around here. Taking in her long dark hair, the recent addition of copper streaks glinting under the lights, realizing Ive never seen her alone until now. Never once been confronted by her, just the two of us, without Stacia or Craig.
My mind wanders to the book in the back, the one I left on the desk, the one I need to return to immediately, hoping whatever it is that she wants can be handled quickly and easily.
Maybe Im in the wrong place. She pulls her shoulders in, twisting a silver ring around and around as her cheeks spot bright pink. I think I She swallows hard and glances back at the door, motioning awkwardly as she says, I think I made a mistake, so ImIm just gonna go
I watch as she turns, her aura glowing a tremulous gray as she heads for the door. And even though I dont want to do it, even though I have a potentially life-changing, problem-solving book to return to, I say, Its not a mistake. She stops, shoulders hunched, looking small and diminutive without the aid of her bully friend. Seriously, I add. You meant to come here. And who knows? Maybe I can help.
She takes a deep breath, pausing for so long Im about to speak again when she turns. Theres this guy. She picks at the hem of her shorts and gazes at me.
Jude. Sensing the answer without reading her thoughts or touching her skin, just knowing the moment my eyes meet hers.
Yeah, um, I guess. Anyway, I um She shakes her head and starts again. Well, I was just wondering if he was here. He gave me this. She pulls a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and lays it flat against the glass, smoothing the creases as she peers up at me.
Hes not here, I mumble, eyes grazing over the flyer advertising his Psychic Development Class level 1, thinking how he wasted no time. You want to leave a message? Or sign up? I study her carefully, never having seen her so shy and uncomfortable beforewith the ring twisting, eye darting, knee twitchingand knowing its because of me.
She shrugs, gazing down at the counter as though fascinated by the jewelry inside. No, um, dont say anything. Ill just come back some other time. She takes a deep breath and pulls her shoulders back, trying to summon some of the usual revulsion reserved just for me, but failing miserably.
And even though part of me wants to soothe her, calm her, convince her theres really no reason to act like thisI dont. I just watch as she leaves, making sure the door closes behind her before heading back to the book.
CHAPTER 22
So how was your first day at work?
I drop onto the couch, kick off my shoes, and prop my feet up on the carved wood coff ee table, closing my eyes, and sighing dramatically as I say, Actually, it was a lot easier than youd think.
Damen laughs and sinks down beside me. Smoothing my hair off my face when he says, Then whats with all the fatigue and theatrics?
I shrug, scrunching down even lower, sinking as deep as I can into the plush, overstuffed cushions, eyes still closed as I say, I dont know. Maybe its got something to do with the book I found. It left me feeling a littlefragmented. But then, it might have something to do with my surprise visit with
You read a book? His lips trail down the length of my neck, filling my body with tingle and heat. As in, the traditional way?
I move closer, throwing my leg over his and snuggling in, eager for the almost feel of his skin. Believe me, I tried to take the easy way out and just sense it instead, but it was likeI dont knowit was the weirdest experience. I look at him, willing his eyes to meet mine, but they remain closed as he buries his face in my hair. It was likelike the knowledge inside was too powerful to be read in that way, you know? And it gave me this terrible jolt of electricitylike a shock that rattled my bones. Which only made me even more curious, which is why I tried to read it the normal way. Only I didnt get very far.
Out of practice? He smiles, lips now at my ear
More like I couldnt understand it. I shrug. Its mostly in code. And the parts that are English, well, it was likeolde English. You know, like the kind you used to speak. I pull away and peer at him, smiling when I see the look of mock outrage displayed on his face. Not to mention the print was really small and it was filled with all these weird sketches and symbols making up spells and invocations, that sort of thing. Whatwhy are you looking at me like that? I pause, sensing a major energy shift as his body grows tense
Whats the name of this book? he asks, gaze focused on mine.
I squint, screwing my lips to the side, trying to remember what the fancy gold lettering said. The Book ofSomething I shake my head, feeling more tired and fragmented than I prefer to let on, especially after seeing the concern on his face.
Shadows. He nods, wearing a frown. The Book of Shadows. Is that it?
So you know it? I shift, arranging my body until Im fully facing him, his gaze serious, fixed, as though weighing something he may or may not tell me.
Im familiar. He studies my face. But only with its reputation. Ive never had a chance to read it myself. But, Ever, if its the same tome Im thinking of He shakes his head, disquiet clouding his face. Well, it contains some extremely powerful magickmagick that needs to be approached with the utmost caution and care. Magick that definitely should not be toyed with, understand?
So I guess youre saying it works. I smile, hoping to lighten the mood, but knowing Ive failed when he doesnt return it.
Its nothing like the magick we use. It may seem like it at first, and I suppose that when stripped down to its very essence, it does amount to the same sort of thing. But when we evoke the energy of the universe to manifest form, we call upon only the purest and brightest of light with no darkness at all. And even though most magick practitioners or witches are good, sometimes when people get involved in witchcraft they get in over their heads, and wind up taking a much darker path, calling on a more malevolent force to get the job done.
I gape, never having heard him even acknowledge a dark force before.
Everything we do is always based either for the greater good, or our own good. We never do anything to cause any harm.
I wouldnt say never, I mumble, remembering all the times Ive beaten Stacia at her own game, or at least tried to.
Petty schoolyard squabble is hardly what Im getting at. He dismisses my thoughts. What I meant was, we manipulate matter not people. But resorting to spell casting to get what you want He shakes his head. Well, thats a whole other game. Ask Romy and Rayne.
I look at him.
They are witches, you know. Good witches, of course, ones who were taught very wellthough unfortunately for them, their schooling was cut a bit short. But take Roman, for instance, hes the perfect example of what can go wrong when ones ego, greed, and insatiable need for power and revenge steer them toward the dark side. His recent use of hypnosis is a prime example of that. He looks at me, shaking his head. Please tell me you didnt find this book on the shelfout where just anyone can get it.
I cross my legs and shake my head, fingers tracing the seam on his sleeve. It was nothing like that, I say. This copy wasold. And I mean, really, really old. You know, all fragile and ancientlike it should be in a museum or something. Trust me, whoever it belongs to didnt want anyone to know about it; they went to great lengths to hide it. But you know that cant really stop me. I smile, hoping hell smile too, but his gaze remains unchanged, worried eyes staring right into mine.
Who do you think is using it? Lina or Jude? he asks, using their names so casually youd think they were friends.
Does it matter? I shrug.
He studies me a moment longer, then averts his gaze. Mind wandering to some long-ago place, somewhere Ive never been. So, is that it, then? A brief encounter with the Book of Shadows, and youre all tuckered out? he says, returning to me.
Tuckered? I lift a brow and shake my head. His odd choice of words never fails to amuse me.
Too dated? His lips curve into a grin.
A little. I nod, laughing along with him.
You shouldnt make fun of the elderly. Its quite rude, dont you think? He playfully chucks me under the chin.
Quite. I nod, quieted by the feel of his fingers straying over my cheek, down my neck, all the way to my chest.
We rest our heads against the cushions and gaze at each other, his hands moving nimbly, deftly, making their way over my clothes, both of us wishing it could lead to something more, but determined to be contented with this.
So what else happened at work? he whispers, pressing his lips to my skin, the ever-present veil hovering between us.
Did some organizing, cataloging, filingoh, and then Honor came in.
He pulls away, features rearranged into his I told you so gaze. Relax. Its not like she was looking for a reading or anything. Or at least she didnt seem to be.
Whatd she want?
Jude, I guess. I lift my shoulders, inching my fingers under the hem of his shirt, feeling his smooth expanse of skin and wishing I could crawl under there too. It was weird seeing her alone though. You know, without Stacia or Craig. Its like she was a totally different personall shy and awkward, completely transformed.
You think she likes Jude? His fingers trace the line of my collarbone, his touch so warm, so perfect, barely dimmed by the veil.
I shrug, burying my face in the shallow V of his shirt, inhaling his warm musky scent. Determined to ignore the way my stomach just dipped when he spoke. Having no idea what it means or why I should care if Honor likes Jude, but preferring to push it away nonetheless. Why? Do you think I should warn him? You know, tell him what shes really like? My lips pushing into the hollow at the base of his neck, right next to the cord that holds his amulet.
He shifts, rearranging his limbs, pulling away as he says, If hes as gifted as you say, then he should be able to read her energy and see for himself. He gazes at me, voice careful, measured, overly controlled in a way Im not used to. Besides, do we even know what shes really like? From what youve described, we only know her under the influence of Stacia. She may be quite nice on her own.
I squint, trying to imagine a nicer version of Honor, but unable to get there. But still, I say. Jude has a habit of falling for all the wrong girls and I stop, meeting his gaze and sensing that things have taken a definite turn for the worse, though Ive no idea why. You know what? Never mind all that. Its boring and stupid and not worth our time. Lets talk about something else, okay? I lean toward him, aiming my lips toward the edge of his jaw, anticipating the prickle and scratch of the stubble that grows there. Lets talk about something that has nothing to do with my job, or the twins, or your ugly new car Hoping he was more amused than off ended by that. Something that doesnt make me feel quite soold and boring.
Are you saying youre bored? He looks at me, eyes wide, aghast.
I lift my shoulders and scrunch my face, wishing I could pretend otherwise, but also not wanting to lie. A little. I nod. I mean, Im sorry to say it, but this whole cuddling on the couch while the kids sleep upstairs I shake my head. Its one thing when youre babysitting, but its a little creepy when the kids are essentially yours. I mean, I know were still adjusting and allbutwellI guess what Im trying to say is, its starting to feel like a rut. I peer at him, lips pressed tightly together, unsure how hell take that.
You know how to get out of a rut, dont you? He jumps to his feet so swiftly hes a shiny, dark blur.
I shake my head, recognizing that look in his eye from when we first met. Back when things were fun, exciting, unpredictable in every way.
The only escape is to break free. He laughs, grasping my hand and leading me away.
CHAPTER 23
I follow him through the kitchen and out to the garage, wondering where he could possibly be taking me since a nice trip to Summerland can be had from the couch.
What about the twins? I whisper. What if they wake and find were not here?
Damen shrugs, leading me to his car and glancing over his shoulder as he says, No worries, theyre sleeping soundly. Besides, I have a feeling theyll stay that way for a while.
And did you have anything to do with that? I ask, remembering the time he put the entire student body to sleepincluding the administrators and teachersand Im still not sure how he did it.
He laughs and opens my door, motioning for me to get in. But I shake my head and stand my ground. No way am I riding in the mom mobilethe very embodiment of the rut that were in.
He looks at me for a moment, then shakes his head and closes his eyes, brows merging together as he manifests a shiny red Lamborghini instead. Just like the one I drove the other day.
But I shake my head again, having no need for a new brand of fun when the old one will do. So I close my eyes and wish it away, replacing it with an exact replica of the shiny black BMW he used to drive.
Point taken. He nods, waving me in with a mischievous grin.
And the next thing I know were racing down the drive and onto the street, slowing just enough for the gate to open, before taking Coast Highway in a blur of speed.
I gaze at him, trying to peer into his mind and see just where were going, but he just laughs, purposely erecting his psychic shield, determined to surprise me.
He hops on the freeway and cranks up the stereo, laughing in surprise when the Beatles come on. The White Album? He glances at me as he navigates the road at near-record speeds.
Whatever it takes to get you back in this car. I smile, having listened to the story (many times) of his time spent in India learning transcendental meditation right alongside them, back when John and Paul wrote most of these songs. In fact, if Ive manifested it correctly, then that stereo will play nothing but the Beatles from now on.
How am I ever going to adapt to the twenty-first century if youre determined to keep me rooted in the past? He laughs.
I was kind of hoping you wouldnt adapt, I mumble, gazing out the window at a blur of darkness and light. Change is overratedor at least your more recent changes are. So what do you say? Is she a keeper? Can we banish the big ugly mommy mobile?
I turn toward him, watching as he exits the freeway and makes a series of sharp turns before climbing a very steep hill and stopping before a sculpture in front of a huge limestone building.
Whats this? I squint, knowing were somewhere in L.A. from the look and feel of the town, but not exactly sure where.
The Getty. He smiles, setting the brake and jumping out to open my door. Have you been?
I shake my head and avoid his gaze. An art museum is about the last place I expectedor even wantedto go.
Butisnt it closed? I glance around, sensing were the only ones here, other than the armed guards who are probably stationed inside.
Closed? He looks at me and shakes his head. You think Im going to let something as mundane as that stop us? He slips his arm around me and leads me up the stone steps, lips at my ear when he adds, I know a museums not your first choice, but trust me, Im about to prove a very good point. One that, from what you just said, clearly needs illustrating.
What? That you know more about art than I do?
He stops, his face serious when he says, Im going to prove that the world really is our oyster. Our playground. Whatever we want it to be. Theres no need to ever feel bored or to get into a rut once you understand that the normal rules no longer applyat least not for us. We can do anything we want, Ever, anything at all. Open, closed, locked, unlocked, welcome, unwelcomenone of it matters, we do what we wantwhen we want. Theres nothing or no one who can stop us.
Not entirely true, I think, ruminating on the very thing weve never been able to do in the past four hundred years, which, of course, is the one thing I really want us to do.
But he just smiles, kissing me on the forehead before grasping my hand, leading me to the door as he says, Besides, theres an exhibit Im dying to see, and since theres no crowd it shouldnt take long. And I promise, after, we can go wherever you want.
I stare at the imposing locked doors rigged with the most high-tech alarms that are probably rigged to other high-tech alarms, that are surely rigged to machine gunwielding guards with their fingers just itching to press the trigger. Heck, theres probably a hidden camera trained on us now, and a not amused guard tucked somewhere inside ready to push the panic button under his desk.