Starry Knight (28 page)

He went on in a similar vein for another five minutes. As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd sprang to its feet amidst thunderous applause. Heartened by the response, Callum stepped off the podium, shook what seemed like hundreds of hands, and smiled until his face hurt.

His heart ached, too. He’d set her free and she hadn’t come back, telling him she’d never been his to begin with.

* * * *

As Beau pulled up outside Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, Vanessa surveyed the dilapidated facade with a wary eye. The peeling clapboards, lopsided shutters, splintered front porch, and exposed electrical wires did little to inspire confidence.

The interior wasn’t much better. Small and cramped, it reeked of cloying incense and was jammed to the rafters with a Hoodoo Voodoo hodgepodge. Masks, candles, statues, jewelry, wax figures, skulls, herbs, and little bowls filled with all sorts of weird and creepy whatnots.

Vanessa took a minute to look around at the overwhelming inventory before heading to the glass counter supporting the circular
gris-gris
display. She turned the rack and fondled a few of the hanging pouches as she read their tags. The one designed to attract love felt gritty, the one to draw money was lumpy, and the one for protection against evil spirits contained tiny brittle bones.

“How do I choose?” she asked Beau, who’d followed her over.

He’d brought her here to select a talisman of her own and to have her tarot cards read.

“You don’t want to make the same mistake I did,” he’d said before confessing his marriage was not the bed of roses he’d led her to believe. And speaking of unhappy unions, her father had called to let her know Callum was announcing his candidacy today. God, how she wished she could be there to offer encouragement—not that he needed or wanted her support, it would seem.

“Can I help you with something?”

The question brought Vanessa back to the counter, where a woman with golden dreadlocks and a toffee complexion waited to be of service.

“I hope so,” Vanessa said. “I need a love charm of sorts. Something to attract the right sort of person while discouraging the wrong sort. Do you have anything like that?”

The woman smiled. “I can always make you up something special.”

Uh-oh. That sounded expensive and like more trouble than she wanted to go to. She really just wanted Callum to call her, but didn’t want to say so and sound pathetic—especially in front of Beau.

“Let me think about it, all right?”

“Sure, hon,” the clerk said. “Look around and if you need help with anything, just give me a shout.”

“Thanks, I will.”

As Vanessa leaned down to have a closer look at what appeared to be a black bird’s foot clutching a polished red rock, Beau said to the departing clerk, “She also wanted to get a tarot reading while we’re here. Is Reed around today?”

“Yeah,” the woman said. “He’s in the back.”

After the woman left them, Vanessa nudged Beau and pointed at the queer object that both fascinated and reviled. “What
is
that thing?”

“A squab’s foot holding a bloodstone,” he said like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Bloodstones have many magical properties. One of them is to help us become more knowledgeable in the ways of the world.”

“What do you do with it? Wear it?”

“Or keep it in your pocket.” Beau shot a glance toward the back of the shop. “Are you ready for your reading? If Reed’s free, we should probably nab him. You can look around for a charm after. In fact, the reading might help you decided what sort of
gris-gris
would do you the most good.”

She followed Beau down a narrow aisle and through a curtain bearing a life-sized image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Or was it Our Lady of Prompt Succor?

The room behind the curtain was outfitted with arty Day of the Dead, Santeria, and Voodoo altars. A round wooden table with chairs on either side occupied the center. A square black cloth with a gold pentagram covered the table. A deck of tarot cards rested upon the pentagram.

A frail-looking man with a shaved head and thick glasses stepped toward them. “Welcome to the inner sanctum. How can I be of service?”

“I’d like a reading, please,” Vanessa told him.

“For the two of you?”

“No,” she replied, glancing at Beau. “Just me. We’re not a couple.”

“I see,” the man said, motioning for her to take the nearer chair. “I’m Reed. And you are…?”

“Vanessa.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Beau said just before disappearing through the curtain.

Good. She wanted privacy, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings by asking him to leave.

Reed took the seat across and got a pained look on his face. “Have you lost someone close to you recently?”

“Not that I know of,” Vanessa replied, suddenly concerned. “Why?”

“I feel ectoplasmic energy around you. A soul who’s passed out of its corporeal form, but remains trapped on this plane. It almost feels like she’s watching over you.”

“She?” Vanessa tried to think who the soul might be. It couldn’t be Sorcha, surely. “It could be my grandmother. We shared the gift of seeing spirits.”

“Is that so? Well, perhaps it is, then.” He picked up the cards. “Now, what advice do you seek from the tarot today?”

Vanessa bit her lip as she tried to think how to put what she wanted into words. “I’m in a relationship—well, I think I am.
Hope
I am, but I’m not sure.” She laughed nervously. “As you can probably tell by my verbal stumbling. I’d like to know how to act. Whether I should go on waiting for him to make a move or take action myself. Can the cards advise me about something like that?”

“I believe so,” Reed said. “I suggest we use the two-questions spread for your query.”

Vanessa drew her brows together in confusion as she regarded the medium. “How does that work?”

“It’s a simple and direct five-card spread,” he explained, “which lays out the pluses and minuses of two choices.”

“Oh, okay.” Vanessa set her hands flat on the table and leaned forward, eager to get started. “My choices, I guess would be to call Callum right away or to continue waiting for him to get in touch.”

“Very good,” Reed said with a slight smile. “Those are the choices I want you to hold in your mind while you shuffle the cards. As you handle them, try to feel your thoughts and energy surrounding the situation infusing the cards.”

He picked up the cards and set them in front of her. With trembling hands, she shuffled repeatedly while repeating her questions as if plucking daisy petals.

Call Callum. Don’t call Callum.

Feeling the cards were sufficiently steeped in her vibration, she set the deck before Reed, who proceeded to lay out five cards, face down. As he overturned the first card, he said, “This card offers an overview of the situation.”

Vanessa held her breath as she studied the image of a grieving figure in a long black cloak. He appeared to be weeping over the three spilled cups before him. Two more cups, still upright, were behind him.

The Five of Cups.

“You’ve been disappointed in your past love relationships, which overlays your feelings and choices about this one.” Lifting his gaze to hers, he asked, “Does that make sense to you?”

It did. Perfect sense. The men she’d dated in the past made her feel like an objective, not a person. Callum didn’t, but the distrust was still there, making her question his intentions.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Reed replied. “This next card represents the positives surrounding your first choice, which is to call your lover.”

The card he overturned showed a silhouetted man gazing upon seven cups floating on a cloud. Each cup contained treasures a person might wish for—riches, a castle, beauty, sex, immortality, and victory.

“More cups,” she observed with growing apprehension.

“Yes,” Reed said, peering down at the card. “Which makes sense given the nature of your inquiry. Cups are the suit governing the emotions.”

Chewing her lip, Vanessa studied the card’s puzzling imagery before lifting her gaze to the medium’s. “What does it mean?”

“Normally, it suggests the querent is overthinking a situation or daydreaming about the future,” he told her, tapping the card with his index finger. “But in this case, given its position as the positives surrounding the choice, I interpret it to mean your first choice offers the potential to get you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

“Really? Wow.”

The fluttering in her belly felt like a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web. As much as she longed to reach out to Callum, she also didn’t want to step on his male ego and risk putting him off her.

The next card—representing the negatives of the first choice—was The Chariot. The image depicted a beautiful, golden-haired man driving a chariot pulled by two sphinxes, one black and one white. The canopy of the chariot was covered in stars and the man wore a crown ornamented with a star. In the background were an ancient city and two castles surrounded by walls.

“That’s Callum,” she blurted, astonished by the likeness. “It has to be. The golden hair, the stars. Did I happen to mention he’s an astrologer?”

“I don’t believe you did,” the medium said with a small smile, “nor do I think your interpretation is wrong. The cards can sometimes be uncannily literal.” Touching the card, he added, “The Chariot speaks of quests and the blending of opposites—denoted by the black and white sphinxes—and the choice between emotional desires and worldly ambitions. Is that an issue in this instance?”

She swallowed her surprise at the card’s pinpoint accuracy. “Yes, unfortunately.”

Reed smiled at her for a couple of heartbeats before saying, “Well, nothing worth having comes easily, does it? With regards to your first choice—to take the initiative and contact this man, whom you obviously care for enough to be torn about the decision—the cards suggest you could get everything your heart desires, but at the expense of your professional ambitions.”

“Yes, that does seem to be the crux of the matter,” Vanessa admitted with a sigh. “He thinks pleasing him should be my only ambition.”

Reed blinked a few times as he looked into her face. “Do you enjoy pleasing him?”

“Yes, but I also want more than to be some doting Stepford wife.”

“Does he make you feel that way?”

“No, actually. He makes me feel…” Her voice trailed off as several words jumped into her mind at once, eager to fill in the blank. Appreciated, adored, special, cherished, worthy, pampered—and utterly
terrified
. But why? Why was she so afraid to commit to him? Callum was wonderful in all the ways that counted.

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she met Reed’s gaze in a head-on collision. “He makes me feel like I matter, but I’m afraid he’ll change his mind once he sees the real me.” Silently, she added, “A reckless, flighty, promiscuous, and basically screwed up poor little rich girl not even her parents could love.”

Reed took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he said, “I suggest you think on that, and how past disappointments are coloring your present expectations, as we examine the pros and cons of your second choice—to remain passive and wait for this man to take the initiative.”

Vanessa’s breath caught when he overturned the next card—the positives surrounding the second choice.

The Devil.

The card depicted a Baphomet—a fearsome-looking humanoid creature with horns, wings, hairy legs, and talons in place of feet—seated upon a throne to which a pair of naked demons, man and woman, were chained by their necks.

“How is that a positive?” she asked, scowling down at the disturbing image.

“The devil can mean many things,” Reed began to explain. “Unconscious desires, animal lusts, the subconscious. The card also represents our need to control a situation. In this instance, I suspect it may be counseling that giving up control might be a good thing for you.”

She continued frowning at the card. “I don’t understand. Are the cards telling me not to call him?”

“The choice is yours, Vanessa. The cards are simply pointing out the pluses and minuses of each choice so you can make the best decision for yourself.”

Reed overturned the final card, which showed a man on a bench chiseling a star on a gold coin. More gold coins hung above him on a timber post.

“Another card denoting your occupation,” he said. “I would take it to mean that, should you leave it to your lover to get in touch, you might find yourself with nothing more than your work, which, while fulfilling on some levels, might not be enough.”

Chewing her lip, Vanessa looked over the five cards, weighing her choices. If she called Callum, she’d maybe find emotional happiness, but at the expense of a career she’d invested significant time and money preparing for.

Yes, being a paranormal investigator had lost some of its gloss since she’d become a preternatural being herself, but the idea of giving up her dreams for something as nebulous as a relationship rubbed against her Aquarian grain.

At the same time, she liked the second two options even less. The benefits of surrendering control and keeping her job were hardly equal to the disadvantage of walking away from the only person who’d ever made her feel like she mattered. Plus, they were both blood-drinking faeries. Simba and Nala. The chances of finding another mate who made her feel as good about herself as Callum did seemed pretty slim. Was keeping her job worth giving that up?

“Have you decided what to do?”

Just as Vanessa opened her mouth to give him her answer, a sudden, inexplicable gust of wind scattered the outlaid cards. Startled, she glanced behind her at the curtain, sure the wind had come from there, but Our Lady of Prompt Succor remained still.

Turning back to the table, she watched with agape astonishment as what remained of the deck spread out in a fan unaided. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled as a card slid out, spun in the air, and landed face up in front of her.

The Knight of Wands.

Holy shit. The energy Reed felt must have been Sorcha’s, but how could it be? Weren’t ghosts confined to the places they haunted?

A second card landed beside the knight. The harrowing image—a dead man beside a loch with ten swords in his back—drove a spear of ice through her heart. It had to be a message about Callum. With alarm prickling across her skin, Vanessa blinked up at Reed.