by L W Rogers
“Who is this with you in this photo?” I demand.
“That’s my daughter, Cadence. Well, when I say daughter, I was responsible for raising her with my sisters. Obviously she’s a fair bit older now.”
Interesting. The hair is the same powder grey that it is now, even though the girl in the picture is young. Her ice blue eyes stare at me from the frame, but they carry less anger than those I have encountered. I find myself unsurprised by the mention of her name. I knew who it was as soon as I saw her. I have to be careful what I say next as I don’t want to give my interest away.
“Do you see her much at all?”
Valeria sighs and shakes her head.
“I’m afraid I don’t see her as much as I should. She’s a very successful and busy woman-“
“That’s a shame-“
“But she was here earlier today.”
Oh, this is too damn good. I’ve just gone from devastated to elated in 0.3 seconds! She has contact, so she’ll know where I can find her. This makes my job a hell of a lot easier than I anticipated it would be.
“I expect she is quite beautiful now that she’s all grown up.”
“She truly is worthy of the highest level of daemon as a partner.”
“Was that a dig?” I laugh at my own expense, because I know the low opinion this woman has of me already.
“Not at all, Blaine. I’d say you’re made to perfection for her. Well, your body is. But you can always work on the rest, I suppose,” she cackles.
“Hey I hope you kept to my specifications. For all I know, you could have blessed me with this frankly awesome body and then graced me with an ogres head and I’d not know any different!” I really hope she hasn’t. Going through that procedure once was ordeal enough for me. I don’t want to have to go through it a second time.
“You’re good. All’s exactly as you requested.”
“Excellent. Now as much as I’d like to hang around and chat with you, I have somewhere to be. Do you have anything for me to wear?”
She rolls her eyes and promptly leaves the room. Whilst she’s gone I begin to open drawers looking for something, anything that will have an address on it for Cadence. I notice as I move around the room that I’m more clumsy than usual, but having been warned that this could happen I pay it no mind.
I find what I’m looking for and flick through the address book looking for the familiar name upon the pages, only to be met with a loud cough. I turn slowly to meet Valeria’s agitated gaze. She walks over and dumps the suit bag she’s holding into my hands, following the action with a swift smack to the side of the head.
“She’s not at home, dumbass. She has a fundraiser to attend tonight. It’s at the public library in Boston.”
I know that I should be questioning why it is she’s decided to help me, but I’m not one for looking a gift horse in the mouth, and I like spontaneity. A lot.
“How am I going to get there? I’m not strong enough to get myself there...” She pats my face gently.
“You leave that to me, dear. Oh, and Blaine?”
“Yes?”
“Better get into those fresh threads, son, and prepare yourself, because you’re going dancing.”
Oh great...
Chapter 21
Cadence
The night of the dreaded fundraiser has arrived and I can feel my heart sinking with the dark night ahead. Ordinarily I’d be up for letting my hair down and dressing up. My mum would more often than not have some form of opinion on my attire. It was either too tight, too short, showed too much cleavage, or it was a mixture of the aforementioned. As I slip on my favoured dress from the rack that Julie has arranged, I ache for those disapproving grumbles from her now.
I decide on a long, slim-line black dress, with a little sparkle scattered over it. It’s a form fitting mermaid-style dress showing a respectable amount of cleavage. After all, I’m about to tell the world of my mum’s passing and it doesn’t seem respectful for me to be waltzing around in a more ‘slutty’ ensemble.
A limousine is en-route so I have no time to hesitate on my choice of dress. I grab the matching evening bag and slip on my heels, heading down to the front of the building. Rain thrashes down as I open the heavy, glass doors and I wish I brought a coat and umbrella with me. My shawl is definitely not going to hide me from this down pour.
I run over to the limousine and slip inside it, thankful that the heating is on full blast. As the driver heads off, I watch as the rain continues to bash on the windows, not letting up. It sums up how my night is likely to go really. It’ll more than likely be a dark and sombre occasion. I am thankful to see a bottle of champagne on ice, waiting for me. I pour a glass in the hope it will take the edge off my nerves.
It seems like every man and his beast are on the roads tonight. The rain is not constant and I can feel the threat of thunder not far off. Visibility is becoming worse as I watch from the warmth of my seat, looking at the traffic building. Angry drivers press incessantly on their horns as if that will hurry the driver in front of them. Staring at my watch I realise that I am going to be late to my own fundraiser. Things are just going from bad to worse. Not sure much else can make it any worse to be honest.
I finally arrive at the venue a staggering hour after I should have been there. Thankfully it seems I’m not the only one running late, as I see a long queue formed alongside the large building and its occupants hastily making their way up the stairs. Thankfully the rain has not hit this part of Boston yet and I hope it won’t. At least we can make use of the canopies in the gorgeous courtyard. My mum arranged this event every year at the same venue. I was never sure why on earth she picked a library of all places, let alone the cost of it. It is, however, a sight to behold. No words can really describe its refined decadence. It really is a work of art. The entrance alone is a glory to behold.
“Miss Winters. It’s so nice to see you. Is your mother on her way?” Reginald asks, peering over my shoulder, searching for her.
“I’m afraid not.” I hand him my shawl and in return he hands me a glass of champagne.
“I am sorry to hear that. This will be the first one she won’t have attended. I’m assuming you will be giving the opening speech.” I nod. “Well enjoy your evening, Miss Winters.Most of the guests are currently in the courtyard. Once all of the guests have arrived we will guide you to your seats.”
“Thank you, Reginald. What would we do without you?” I place a hand on his in a gesture of appreciation. Reginald organised all of my mum’s engagements and had done so since I can remember. I continue my way past the grand pillars that lead to the marbled staircase and head around the back of them. This leads me out into the enormous courtyard that houses a beautiful water fountain. There is a nip in the air and I immediately regret handing my shawl over, not that it would protect me much from the chill. The courtyard is bustling with many of the guests, all of which are enjoying the brass band and the free champagne and canapés that are circling the grounds. Well, I say free. They’re hardly free when you’ve paid out a couple of grand for a ticket to attend. It’s all for a good cause.
I flit about briefly, smiling as best I can, my stroll broken up with brief idle chit chat before I head to the hall to check everything is set. It looks stunning. My mum always thought of every last little detail, down to the favours that are placed on each of the tables. Some guests have already taken their seat, although none of them are known to me. Tonight, I’m going to be surrounded by strangers for the most part. My mum always invited the coven, but they never attended. Maggie had promised she would come, but after the last week’s events I’m not so sure she will attend.
My stomach is in knots and the champagne has not eased it as I hoped it would. I make my way to the bar, where a handsome, devilish bartender stands, drying glasses and ensuring everything is just right. He smiles as I approach and he instantly grabs a cocktail glass and begins to make some concoction. I take a seat and watch as he works his magic, flicking various bottles of s
pirits up in the air and catching them from behind him. How on earth he manages this without breaking it is beyond me. He places the glass on a coaster in front of me and slips in one of those cute umbrellas.
“So, what do you call this one then Nicky?”
“Cadence 2.0,” he tells me with a wicked smile. He always knows how to make me smile. Maybe it is one of his ‘gifts’. Being a son of a warlock has its perks.
“Well, I hope it’s better than Cadence 1.0. Last year I could have died with what you put in that.”
“I promise. I’ve been perfecting this one. It has a bit of your fire in it, shall we say.” That wicked grin is on full display once again. I’m not entirely sure I should trust him. I raise an eyebrow before I take a sip. I’m pleasantly surprised. It’s not as bad as the drink from last year. I think he added too much Tabasco sauce to the mix to that one and my mouth was on fire more than it had ever been before.
“Not bad, Nicky. I hope there’s enough alcohol in it to quell my nerves though.”
“Trust me. A couple of these and you’ll feel more relaxed than ever.”
I watch from the bar as I see guests taking their seats, continuing to sip my exotic drink as I do. The odd guest that knows me comes up to say hi and to ask where my mum is. A slight exaggeration of the truth is given before they go about their business. I can see that most of the seats are filled and I know it won’t be long before I will have to make ‘the speech’. Nicky pours my third cocktail and I feel the nerves begin to simmer. I see Reginald making his way towards me, so I know that all the guests are accounted for, apart from Maggie, whose seat next to mine is empty. It hurts a little, I’ll admit.
“Are you ready, Miss Winters?” Reginald asks. I nod and he makes his way up onto the balcony above where rows and rows of books are housed. This room contains all the rare and hands-off books. I throw back the remnants of my drink quickly, its sweetness lingering on my lips and then make my way up the staircase. Reginald is already at the microphone and welcoming everyone and then I realise that my name is being called.
I slowly make my way to the spot where Reginald was moments ago and I can feel the drink taking effect and not in the best of ways. My nerves are worsening and my palms begin to burn. My heart races uncontrollably and if I’m not careful my emotions are going to get the best of me. I whisper to Reginald to grab me a glass of water and he leaves my side hastily to get what I need, whilst I stand there, all eyes gazing upon me. My heart is thudding more now and my hands tremble.
“Welcome.” I begin with a croak in my throat.
“As some of you are aware my mum isn’t here tonight.” Pausing to try and find the right words. “I…I’m not quite sure how to say this…” Reginald is back swiftly and hands me the glass of water which I promptly guzzle back.
“My mum has…” Died, been murdered, passed on…what the fuck am I going to say that doesn’t sound so cold and come as such a shock.
“I’m afraid to say she passed away a few days ago, quite suddenly.” I let out a sigh of relief now that the weight of that secret has finally dissipated. The crowd is a wave of gasps and shocked faces as they take in the news. I allow them a little time to come to terms with it. I look at Reginald who is just as shocked as the rest. Placing a hand over his, I mouth an apology.
I continue the rest of the speech my mum had prepared with relative ease and at the end I request that they leave any questions about my mum for another time. I make my way down the staircase and to my seat at the far end of the hall. I feel eyes burning in the back of me. There are unanswered questions written all over their faces, but I can’t look at them. I’m thankful that I have some faces at my table that I recognise, mainly those of my board members, except for one who I don’t believe I have ever met. He’s rudely sat in the space that should have been occupied by Maggie.
“Excuse me.” I tap his shoulder as his back is currently against my seat. “I don’t believe you’re in the right seat.” Or venue for that matter, as everyone else has arrived. Clearly a party-crasher and at £2000 a seat he is not going to get a free ride. I cough loudly as the tapping of his shoulder clearly isn’t a clear enough message to get this dick’s attention.
He stands from his seat, turning to face me.
“I’m Blaine.” He holds a hand out to shake mine, catching me off guard. Even though my annoyance is abundantly clear I reciprocate and begin to shake his hand. It doesn’t last long due to the enormous static shock we both get from one another. It causes us both to withdraw our hands, shaking the pain away. A warm rush of heat spreads through me in a wave, causing every fibre in me to tingle. We both let out a laugh.
“I hope you don’t mind me taking this seat. I was told there was one last space at this event and as I’m new to the area I thought this would be a great place to meet new people,” Blaine states in such a deep, sexy tone that a further rush of heat radiates through me. I’m pretty sure I’m blushing, which for me is a hard task seeing as my blood runs hot for the main part.
“You’ve picked an expensive way to meet new friends, Blaine,” I tell him, smiling inwardly at this. As I adjust my dress to take my seat, I feel the chair being pushed beneath me. I look around to see the devilish, handsome stranger being a gentleman, even if it is clear he has had a few to drink, judging by the way he trips forward and collapses into his seat. I have to stifle a laugh. He is very intriguing not to mention extremely delicious to look at, but there is something in the way he stares at me that causes me to stiffen. There’s a definite air of cockiness about him. His eyes seem so dark…intense, yet they are the most amazing colour. Around the edges of his irises, there is a dazzling silver thread encircling them. His eyes draw me in further. I could swim in them for hours trying to figure them out, but something also bothers me about them. I’m not quite sure what it is, but my senses all seem to scream at me to run away, but at the same time my body is busy making an excellent argument for me to stay. It has been a…while shall we say since I have had any physical contact with the opposite sex or the need for such a fine specimen of a man.
I then realise something is flitting back and forth in front of me. It takes a moment to come back to reality. When I do I realise that he is waving his handsat me and talking, although I don’t have a clue what he has been saying.
“I’m sorry. I…”
“Spaced out?” he chuckles.
“That’s one way you could put it,” I snap at him. There is no reason for this sudden change in my mood except my sixth sense telling me to be wary.
“Wow! No need to be a bitch about it!” he retorts. Before I get chance to retaliate, he’s turned his back to me and is talking to the guest next to him. I can feel my anger building at a rapid pace but know that here is not the place to release said anger. I gently rise from my seat in a manner that doesn’t convey my inner fury and head to the only safe place I know in times of crisis, the bathroom. Clichéd, perhaps, but at least I can wreak some damage and then get Reginald to sort it.
I clock Nicky watching as I make my exit, knowing full well he knows where I’m heading. It isn’t the first time I’ve had to release some pent-up frustrations and it probably won’t be the last. As I enter the set of toilets furthest from any guests, I cast a cloaking spell and throw out the built-up fire ball at the far end wall, causing a large hole to form, singed and black. I’m not worried about anyone hearing or coming in due to the spell so I know I am safe to let out all my built-up emotions. It is pouring out of me at this point and no cubicle is safe. The doors are now a cindered pile of ashes. The remnants of toilet paper float around with little speckles of fire trying to chase them.
I feel darkness creeping in and I know if I carry on it will seep its way in and I will no doubt end up marked some more. I have let off as much pent up emotion as I can at this stage. My body is all tight and full off unexpressed frustration and rage and I will need to find time later to release the rest, knowing all too well if I keep it built up it will have deva
stating consequences. I leave the cloaking spell active as I make my exit, jumping as I see Reginald waiting outside the ladies’ toilets.
“Feeling better, Miss Winters?” he asks sincerely and without judgement. I feel a tad guilty for what I have just done.
“Much. I’m sorr -”
“No need to apologise. You seem to have an awful lot to deal with, especially with your mother…” he trails off. “You go back to see to your guests, and I’ll start the clean up.”
“Thank you.” I plant a kiss on his cheek.
I don’t return to my seat, clocking Blaine still sat there, engaged with all the other guests like he has known them for years. I see him glance my way, but I continue towards the bar. Nicky already has another of his ‘Cadence 2.0’ cocktails waiting for me.
“How’s the ladies’ room? Did you show any mercy?” he jokes. Nicky knows me well. It is likely that he gave Reginald the heads up.
“No mercy I’m afraid.” I grin wickedly.
“Good!” He returns my wicked smile and I enjoy my cocktail with no judgement.
Chapter 22
Blaine
Well, this is unexpected.
I haven’t looked yet, but I’m fairly certain the seat beside me is empty of the fiery beauty that was occupying it. Her absence leaves me as cold as the void left by her departure.
I’m feeling off kilter. I think it’s down to Cadence, although I can’t be 100% sure. The spell cast by Valeria that had me whizzing along the ley-lines at break-neck speed has me completely disoriented. It doesn’t, however, explain the fire that is currently sparking through the nerve endings of the human form I have been gifted with. Maybe our bodies recognised each other, although that seems a strange suggestion as this body is new.
Valeria did a fine job. I am not disappointed in the least. This body seems to provoke some kind of response from Cadence, so let’s hope I don’t go and fuck it all up.
I shouldn’t know that she’s still here, but I am certain she hasn’t left the building. This is confirmed when I see her make her way to the bar from the other side of the room. She is emitting an aura of anger. Clouds of red and darkest charcoal cloak her. She wears them like a queen, her chin jutting proudly and confidence oozing from her every step. Upon reaching the bar, she engages the barman in conversation. I absorb every facial expression, watching her face light up with a wicked smile that is reflected in the grin of the man serving her. Oh hell no, that is not happening on my watch!