by Allie Burton
He knew she’d purposely missed school to get her parents’ attention. The strategy was wrong, but she’d been lonely and confused.
“And I thought I missed a lot of school.” Piper returned her attention to the computer.
“You didn’t attend school.” He leaned against the door frame.
“Home schooled, where I was the teacher and the student.” She spoke with pride.
Her life had been a bad fairy tale until she’d been welcomed into the Soul Warriors.
“Have you seen CC? I needed to ask her something?”
Piper’s head jerked and she grinned. “To prom?”
“What’s prom?”
“Kidding. I’ve been combing the school’s website and learning all kinds of customs.” Her eyes glazed with a dreamy expression. “Prom is a formal dance high schools hold and it’s a big deal with formal gowns and flowers and limousines.”
He pictured CC dressed up for him in a designer gown and flowers in her hair, and he wished he could make it happen. “I’m guessing none of us outcasts will ever go to prom.”
“Unless we decide we need to go to a prom for a mission.” Piper sounded excited at the prospect.
He chuckled, enjoying the vision. “Can you imagine how out of place we’d be?”
“We could use the Knot of Uset and go invisible.”
“I might not have a choice.” He pointed to his invisible self. “Olivia is researching the process for fading in and out. Soon, we’ll at least be able to control our invisibility.”
“That will make CC happy.”
Again, he imagined CC in a nice dress, holding her in his arms as they danced to a slow song. He wanted to hold her now. “Have you seen CC?”
“Not since we went through her classes and tardies and absences.”
His gut twinged, chasing away the images of dancing. “It’s as if she disappeared.”
It would be funny, if this wasn’t so serious.
“Maybe she’s acting similar to me when I first came to the house.” Piper’s expression lined with worry.
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “CC has no reason not to trust me.”
Giving a quick nod to Piper, he left the room and peeked in the professor’s bedroom, music room, and bathroom.
No CC.
He ran down the stairs. “Did CC come through here yet?”
“Not since the last time you asked.” Olivia tossed him a teasing smile.
She thought he was smitten, when it was worry that had him rushing around the house. He cruised through the front hallway, the downstairs bathroom and the professor’s study, which also held the secret access to the basement headquarters. Had she found her way down there?
He remembered Piper discovering the secret entrance and stealing the trumpet. But it was CC who held the Knot of Uset, so there was nothing she’d want to steal. They’d made a deal—she’d hold on to the Knot until she went back to school. She believed it was her bargaining chip, not realizing he’d do anything for her.
Pushing open the closet, he used the code to get through the secret door, and headed down the stairs. His feet pounded on the wooden steps in tune with his fast-beating heart. She wasn’t in the main room, or the almost-completed dormitories, or the kitchen, or classroom.
“Not here.” He smashed his fist into a punching bag as he passed, and headed up the stairs.
Worry twisted inside him like a wind-up toy. He hurried into the kitchen, where Xander, Falcon, Math, and Blaze still hung out.
Antony swallowed the over-sized knot in his throat. “I know this is a stupid question, but did CC come through here?”
All four of the guys shook their heads.
Their negativity shot an arrow through Antony’s chest. Air leaked out, and he couldn’t breathe. “She’s gone. She’s not in the house.”
His anxiety spiked into the stratosphere. He’d never experienced such worry. She knew she was in danger. That the men from the Society and the Order were trying to retrieve the Knot of Uset. The anxiety double rotated into fear. The Knot she’d taken with her.
Why would she leave?
And how was he going to find her?
Chapter Sixteen
Cleo
I pushed open the door to the only place I ever found solace in San Francisco. The scent of freshly cut fabric and trimmings, the whirr of a sewing machine, the scratch of muslin being draped on a dress form, I took it in. The smells, the sounds, the experience of high fashion. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my heaving gasps and burning eyes.
Demetri paused in the act of pinning a hemline on a large, older woman and peered at the shop door swinging closed. His brown orbs pierced the spot where I stood.
It wasn’t me he was peering at. It was the swinging door.
Stupid. I’d forgotten I was invisible and no one could see me. Demetri must wonder how the door opened and closed. Standing, I waited to see how he reacted. Would he investigate? Would he get scared?
Demetri continued to stare. It was as if he could see me. I knew better. No one noticed me when I was visible, and no one saw me now. Not even the snake, Antony.
My vision swam and I wiped away the moisture from my cheeks. Demetri was a real friend, not a pretend-romancing-the-Knot person. Yes, he knew I had money to spend on his clothes, but he’d also taught me things about the fashion business, knowing I had an interest in becoming a designer.
Antony saw nothing. Knew nothing.
Everything inside me hardened, remembering his cruel laughter. He’d snickered and called me besotted. He said he’d hated being with me. His words had been an asp bite to my heart. Pain had spread through my bloodstream, poisoning any feelings I’d had for him.
So I’d run.
Run from him and his cruel words. Run from the house where I thought I’d been welcomed. Run from my own emotions.
Emotions tumbling and punching in my stomach, bruising my chest and my mind, sinking my spirits. He’d pretended to like me so I’d give him the Knot of Uset. He’d used me. Kissed me to convince me of his feelings. When he didn’t care at all.
I’d been ready to share my love for him. To tell him how I felt. How I wanted to become a couple and be part of the Soul Warriors to serve for goodness and light. I’d been a fool.
Standing in the corner of Demetri’s design studio and shop, I let my gaze travel the room. Racks of newly-sewn clothes, counters with accessories, the lone clerk behind the counter, and the mannequins wearing his latest designs.
Demetri jerked his head away from the door and continued to pin the woman’s floor-length gown made of taffeta and silk. He kneeled before the woman, who had her back to the front of the shop. The bright purple of the material contrasted nicely with the woman’s skin. She must have a formal event to attend with a husband or date.
My heart spasmed. I’d never date Antony. We’d never kiss again. Or talk, or hold each other close. Our relationship was finished. Actually, our relationship had never been. It was a fantasy concocted by Antony to win me over. To win the Knot of Uset.
I fingered the rope lying around my neck similar to a piece of jewelry. Touching the golden thread gave me comfort. The famous Knot lay in the center. My shirt covered the adornment. Not that anyone could see the rope, or me.
Knowing I’d need to return to the professor’s house because the warriors were the only ones who knew anything about the Knot and its magic, I needed time to decompress and to pull my aching emotions together. I needed a plan, except right now I wanted to assuage the hurt pulsing across my skin.
“What do you think of this length?” Demetri stood. He glanced in my direction and quickly looked away.
Because he saw nothing.
“Will my shoes be visible?” The woman poked her foot out, sporting a ballet flat.
I called it the un-fashion flat.
“No. The dress will brush the floor, and no one will realize you aren’t wearing heels.” Demetri understood customers’ concern
s.
He might be a new designer without a flock of celebrity clients, but he’d get there. His caring showed in small ways, like how he’d been texting me every day. He realized I’d been upset and was worried for me.
A true friend.
Unlike Antony and the Soul Warriors, who pretended. Unlike the kids at the residence hall.
I heaved another tormented breath. The hurt the students caused was nothing compared to the agony of Antony’s deceit. And he’d joked about it.
Even if Piper’s grade changes stayed in the computer, did I want to go back to Exeter Academy? For now, for this minute, I’d stay at Demetri’s and recover from the blow I’d suffered.
I moved toward the rack of dresses and ran my finger across the silky fabrics, wondering how they’d look on. Since I was permanently invisible, it didn’t matter what I wore because no one would see me ever again. Even realizing the unimportance, I couldn’t stop the slight sadness flowing through my veins at the thought of never wearing well-constructed clothes and high style again.
The overly-large woman twirled in front of the three-way mirror. “The waist and bust are tight.”
“The color goes stupendously with your skin color.” Demetri began with a true compliment. “We’ll have to make adjustments to the fit.”
Adjustments? I choked trying to control my chuckle. Which was mean of me.
Demetri’s gaze flew in my direction. He couldn’t hear me, could he? People couldn’t hear my voice when I was invisible.
He smirked and then hid his slight smile. Demetri must have the same sense of humor.
The woman was lovely. The style of the dress was wrong for her body type, though a simple A-line would complement her shapely form.
“Have you tried on the Egyptian sheath yet?” Demetri held the exact style of dress I was thinking. Sleeveless, the rounded collar had jewels encrusted around the top and fell in a straight line.
Demetri and I had similar tastes, too.
The woman took the dress and went into the changing room. Demetri glanced in my direction and away again.
I shivered. Could he see me?
He’d stared at my location when the door opened. He’d peered my way a couple of times.
Slinking next to him, I made a funny face.
He smashed his lips together and bent to pick a pair of shoes off the floor.
I bent down next to him, studying his expression. Was he trying to control a laugh?
The woman came out of the dressing room wearing the second dress. “What do you think?”
“It will be perfect for your daughter’s wedding.” He clapped his hands.
I agreed. The material hung straight, hiding her ample shape. It didn’t resemble a circus tent. The jewels around the neckline showed off the woman’s porcelain skin. And the sleeveless cut would be cool.
“I’ll get the purple dress into alterations right away, and we’ll have it in plenty of time.” He shooed her back in to get changed. “It’s closing time.”
While the woman changed into her own clothes and the clerk left, Demetri moved around the shop hanging clothes, picking things off the floor, and straightening. He did everything except gaze in my direction.
Why would he, when I was invisible?
The woman paid for her dress and left.
Demetri locked the front door and leaned against the glass.
Uh oh. I didn’t think about how I was going to get out of the shop. I could spend the night. Antony and his warrior friends would worry about what happened to the Knot. They wouldn’t care about me.
“I sense a presence.” Demetri swooshed his hands in the air. “Lost soul, is your intent friendly or sinister?”
My jaw dropped. Was he talking to me? I’d wondered if he could see me, but he used the word sense. If he sensed me, could he hear me? And if he heard, would I scare him?
Demetri stepped into the center of the room still swooshing his hands. He twirled and bent at the waist, resembling an exotic Indian dancer. “Lost soul, are you a friend from my past?”
Debates formed in my head, arguing both sides. Had I entered another dimension? Demetri believed in lost souls and sensing presences? At times he’d acted strange. Mystical. Maybe he was clairvoyant. After what had happened to me in the last few days, I wasn’t one to judge.
I bit my lip, trying to decide what to do. It was worth a shot. I cleared my throat. “Demetri. It’s me, CC.” Since he was a contact through my Mother, I clarified. “Cleo Carruthers.”
His eyes widened and his mouth opened into an O-shape. A perfect surprised expression. Nearly too perfect. “CC?”
“Yes. I’m not a soul.” Relief spouted and gushed. He could see and hear me. I wanted to celebrate. I wasn’t alone. Finally, someone I could talk to about…everything. “I’m…I’m invisible.”
“Invisible?” Again, his surprise seemed broadcasted like an actor on television.
“How did you know I was here?” No one on my way to Demetri’s had noticed me.
“I’m psychic.” He moved toward me. “Are you dead?”
I felt dead. The gushing stopped, blocked by loss. Antony had killed my love. “No, I’m not dead.”
“Your mother will be relieved to hear.” Demetri’s affable tone soothed my doubts.
And, I’d already left another message for Mother. Who knew when she’d respond?
“I’m relieved, too.” I might be heartbroken, but I didn’t want to be dead. I was too young, too spirited, and had too many things to make up for in my life. I wanted to make amends to my past teachers. I wanted to make real friends. I wanted to be loved for the real me.
Not because of my money or because I possessed the Knot of Uset.
He took a step closer and angled his chin to an exact ninety degrees. “How did you become invisible?”
Why wasn’t he shocked? Was it because of being a psychic? Did he talk to lost souls all the time?
“It’s a long story.” A story I wasn’t ready to share. I’d rather talk about my lost future. If I was permanently invisible, I’d have to go back to the Soul Warriors for help. I’d have to see Antony again, knowing he thought I was a joke.
“I may be able to help.” Demetri’s steady voice assured. “I dabble in Wiccan and Egyptian Arts.”
I’d never heard of Egyptian Arts. Then again, I’d never heard of the ancient Egyptian god and goddess names the warriors spoke of, never heard of the cult organizations of the Society of Aten or the Magical Order of Crucis, never heard of or believed in magic.
I did now. And I needed help. Help from someone other than the warriors. I was willing to listen to what Demetri had to say.
I might be invisible…and my parents didn’t love me…and Antony didn’t care, but I still mattered.
The thought echoed in my mind and in my chest. The meaning wrapped around my heart in a big self-hug. I took strength from this truth.
“Okay.” I quickly summarized what had happened to me in the past few days. How Aunty Neffy had sent the Knot of Uset, how I’d become invisible, how bad guys were out to get me. I left out the part about Antony and the Soul Warriors. I didn’t want Demetri to know how I’d been duped. Not yet, anyhow. Not until I heard his solution.
“Do you have the Knot of Uset on you?” Demetri had listened with complete acceptance.
A twinge of doubt pinched. “Yes.”
His lips twisted together, in what appeared to be satisfaction. “I think I know someone who can help.”
* * *
Instead of leaving the design studio, Demetri led me up a set of narrow stairs, past a middle floor landing with closed doors, to a large, third-floor room with tall ceilings. I’d never realized he owned the entire building. Guess he had more secrets than being psychic.
This must be his personal design space. High windows lined three sides of the walls. An industrial sewing machine sat in the corner, a couple of dress forms—one naked and the other covered in muslin—were beside the machine, sev
eral bolts of fabric leaned against a wall, and a large table for cutting fabric and fitting pieces together centered the room. Sketches of dresses were tacked to the walls. Partially-finished designs hung on a rack, and a drafting table was positioned against a curtained area.
A frisson of wariness slid up my spine. Demetri was a fashion designer. How could he possibly know someone who could help?
“How do you know these people can help? You don’t even know what’s wrong with me.” I wandered into the room and fingered the rough muslin fabric on the dress form.
“I’ve known them for a dozen years.” Demetri shut the door and flipped on the fluorescent lights. Because it was evening, no natural sunlight filtered through the high windows. “They invested in my design business.”
“You’ve only been in business for less than a year.” I’d complained to Mother about missing the New York designers’ new collections, and she’d told me about this wonderful new designer in San Francisco. I’d met Demetri my first week in town.
“It took me a while to get set up.” Demetri pushed open the curtained area and gestured for me to step inside. “You know how touchy investors can be.”
Him blowing off my question bothered me. What he said didn’t ring true.
“Do these investors know about your psychic abilities?” The investors I’d met through my parents were traditional-business-suit-show-me-the-numbers type of guys. Not men or women who believed in magic.
“Yes.”
Stepping by the door of the curtained area, nerves danced in my stomach. “Why would your investors know how to help me?”
Things weren’t matching up. It was similar to wearing stripes with plaids.
“My investors have an interest in ancient-Egyptian culture.” He pulled the metal cord in the center of the curtained area, and a single light bulb hanging from the high ceiling turned on. The light bulb swung back and forth, creating a weird type of spotlight. “Like your aunt.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Electricity frazzled the ends, causing a quiver. I hadn’t talked much about my aunt with Demetri. I might’ve mentioned she traveled in Egypt.
“For example,” Demetri moved toward the back of the dressing room. “I’ve used Egyptian inspirations in some of my past designs.” He took a long, white robe off the rack.