Oculus
Page 105
“Just let it go and eat your scone,” I begged her telepathically.
“It’s kind of hard to do that when the witch who won’t let me play in her coven expects me to share my bosom friend whenever she’s in town!” Katie lobbed back, her mouth painfully closed and her eyes locked sorely on her cousin.
“But for the record,” Bethesda announced, “I wasn’t following you.” Then she turned to me, her hard expression melting into the epitome of innocent. “I was actually following Shiloh.”
Straightaway, I dug my phone out of my purse and pulled up my app as well, verifying her admission. Damn if that sneaky little witch didn’t.
An emerald wasn’t needed. I could see a couple of passcodes in our immediate future.
“That only confirms you’re a psycho-stalker,” Katie assured with a wink and then ripped into her scone with the bite of a rabid dog.
“You don’t own the sole rights to Shiloh,” Bethesda countered. “She’s just as much my friend as she is yours.”
So that one held as much stretch as a bungee cord. My hands were gripping the edge of the table in wait of my bosom friend’s response when it suddenly dawned on me why they really weren’t getting along. When it came to bitchy attitudes, bouts of selfishness, fits of jealously, and the competitive desire to out-do the other, these two cousins were cut from the same cloth.
“You’re right,” Katie chortled. “I’m actually surprised the two of you aren’t wearing your matching ‘Besties’ T-shirts.”
Bethesda sat poised and perfectly still while she focused on the amusement lighting her cousin’s eyes. Then with the smuggest of stares, she picked up her new tumbled blue stone and held it the air.
My head tipped to the table with a knowing shake. Scarily from the same cloth…
Katie was putting the finishing touches on her chuckles when she finally noticed the bait. “What’s that?”
“A blue aventurine,” Bethesda replied and then brazenly took the liberty of pinching off a piece of my forsaken poundcake. She popped it into her mouth and then chewed it up with a triumphant smile. “It was a gift . . . from Shiloh.”
Upon that damning reveal, my bosom friend’s face shot into crimson and inevitably started hacking up her scone.
So I’d say Bethesda’s new stone was workin’ for her already.
An abrupt jolt assaulted my head like the drive from a red-hot poker no sooner than she’d coughed up her bite. “You didn’t bring me a present!” Katie huffed and then downed the last of her latte.
I pressed my fingers against my temples. I was really starting to resent our psychic connection. Thank goodness it didn’t have the range of a 99¢ GPS app.
“Not even a tiny souvenir from your trip to Italy,” Katie continued. I started to say something when she added, “ . . . or a bunch of crappy seashells.”
“SERIOUSLY?” I launched back, sending just enough heat along with it to cauterize those wounds of hers before she bled out. Actually, I had picked her up something, in a roundabout sort of way—a skull from one of the catacombs in Naples. But I was waiting to tell her about it when I surprised her with a girly vacay, which was what drove my decision to adopt the creepy thing for her in the first place. And it was right up her alley too. Legend claimed that if you brought your skull a small offering of gifts, it would protect its caretaker and grant them an array of mystical favors. Call it a hunch, but somehow I didn’t think just handing her a document that stated she was now the proud, legal guardian of some dead man’s skull way off in some underground cemetery across the Atlantic would spark enough zing without any plans for her to actually visit it — and with it written in Italian no less.
Katie glowered at Bethesda when she tore off another bite. “I thought you had someplace you had to be today,” she grumbled through her chews.
“As a matter of fact, I’m on my way there now,” Bethesda replied.
“Well, you’ve had cake and presents,” Katie snarked, pointing to them accordingly. “So I guess it’s time you headed on your way. We wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“It doesn’t start until one o’clock,” Bethesda countered. “I still have plenty time.”
“So where are you going?” I asked, mainly to quash the tumultuous tennis match their mouths were hell-bent on playing.
Eagerly, Bethesda reached into her tote bag. Her hand emerged, holding what appeared to be a card of some sort, and then she laid it down on the table. “My coven has been personally invited to an exclusive gathering being held at The Wang.”
Katie picked up the invitation and opened it up with a snippy flick. I watched the roll of her eyes growing more and more sour the longer she read. “Now I see why you’ve been strutting around so full of yourself and acting so secretive lately,” she smirked and started fanning it beside her face dramatically. “Cinderella has been summoned to the ball by the Queen.”
Bethesda reached over and snatched it out of her hand. “Yes,” she confirmed with a haughty glare and then turned to me. “It’s a monumental honor in our community.”
I nodded to the embossed invitation, my senses picking up every karat of real gold that outlined the frilly letters. “Well, it looks fancy.”
“Oh, it’ll be that and so much more,” Bethesda gushed, her eyes practically exploding with sparkly little stars. “Lady Oleander is the High Priestess of one of the oldest and most powerful covens around. She’s launching a new book today and then she’s supposed to address all the covens afterward. I heard she’s going to make some big announcement.” Bethesda reached into her tote again and pulled out a book, which she handed straight to me. “She sent an advanced copy with the invitation.”
“The Great Awakening,” I read aloud. My eyes traveled down to the words printed just below the title. How to channel the mystical forces beyond the boundaries of our world… Now that was a slap of unsettling.
“What is the book about, exactly?” I asked and then mounted a few prayers that I wasn’t about to hear what I was thinking.
“I’m only up to chapter eight, but it’s all about the belief that there’s this world that exists alongside ours, and that its magic is a thousand times more pure and powerful than what we wield here. Lady Oleander believes that with the right amount of focus and enough faith, anyone can access it and pull more power from its source.”
That’s what I thought… I could practically feel karma’s cold wet kiss on my neck, pre-punishing me. Here was the main reason Tanner resented witches so much staring me smack in the face — their blind arrogance in regards to magical Veil-dipping.
“Is that a wise thing?” I probed, not knowing any other way to phrase my concerns.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bethesda replied with an innocent shrug.
“Well, how can Lady Oleander be so sure that everything in this supposed world is good?” And that was coming straight from the girl who had been to the dark side of Neverland. The same one who preferred to never-never see it again.
Bethesda placated me with a smile. “Shiloh, respectable witches don’t dabble in black magic like in the movies or on TV. Harm none and let your will be done is our credo. Lady Oleander wouldn’t speak of something, let alone pen a book about anything tied to evil. She’s far too virtuous to be involved in anything like that,” she insisted.
Curious and concerned, I turned the book over to peruse its back cover. My eyes didn’t seek out the first word, not after noticing whose face was staring back at me.
I pointed to the picture. “This is Lady Oleander?” I asked, my gaze practically burning a hole through the cover as I focused on the same older woman who was having breakfast with Malachi at The Plaza back in June. She was even wearing the same pompous-looking turban that gathered in the front with a green gemstone too.
“Yes,” Bethesda confirmed. “I swear she has to be one of the wisest souls in existence . . . and she’s an expert on everything too. I hear the next book she’s planning will be solely devoted to gemstones.”<
br />
“You don’t say,” I muttered, restraining my sneer as best I could.
Bethesda nodded and gave her new blue aventurine a tight squeeze.
“Surely there are more qualified people out there who could write a better book on that,” Katie interjected, batting her eyes. “Don’t you think so, Shi?”
“Who am I to say?” I deflected. I flipped the book around and handed it to Katie. “She’s very striking,” I remarked, hoping my BFF caught my hint.
Katie’s lips parted on the spot and then after quick two-way mental confirmation she said aloud, “Yes,” she grinned slyly. “Plaza-tively striking.”
Bethesda yanked the book out of Katie’s hands and placed it down on the table. “You can get your own copy when it hits the shelves on Tuesday,” she snapped. Then after a quick check of her watch, Bethesda craned her head over the clutter of tables and began scanning the room. “Shiloh, will you watch my stuff while I run to the bathroom.”
“Sure,” I replied and then watched her trot off in the direction of the ladies room. Only a few seconds had passed when my stare returned to the book lying in the center of the table. Yes. My curiosity was more than piqued, but mainly because Talismans and The Veil were supposed to be a not-so-talked-about SECRET. Granted, the more powerful and privileged witches knew the truth, but they sure-fire weren’t making plans to announce it to the masses and then openly discuss it like some supernatural version of Oprah’s Book Club. I picked up the book, unable to break my stare from the woman’s face. What the heck was this witch thinking?
Katie leaned forward and knocked out a lively little riff on the book with her palms. “Let’s go!”
My gaze crashed towards my lap in preparation for my stomach’s second mother of a rollercoaster dive for the day. She can’t be serious…
When I wouldn’t look at her, she gave me a swift kick under the table. “OH, COME ON!”
I swung my dreary stare to hers. “NO.”
Katie threw herself against the back of her seat. “WHY NOT? It’s just a book signing — in a PUBLIC PLACE,” she stressed. “It’s not like it’s Voodoo store or some crazy gypsy’s sweatshop.”
“No,” I laughed dryly. “But it’s still a building that will be packed with witches . . . The same ones I should be AVOIDING.”
Katie cocked her brow. “Kind of like me?”
“It’s not the same thing,” I said.
“How do you know? You can’t just sit there and judge an entire group like that. Can’t you form your own opinion without Tanner’s input?”
“I don’t need his input when I’ve amassed a strong enough foundation to form my own,” I defended. And I’d stockpiled enough between my run-ins with Ms. Lá Léo and Madame Syeria to know I needed to keep them at arm’s length. Correction — LeBron James’ arm’s length.
“You have your gris-gris because of Ms. La Leo,” Katie countered. “And besides, she wasn’t what I would call evil-bad. She was only looking out for her Voodoo Queen grandmother — who is someone you like, by the way.”
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t argue with her on that one.
“And aside from Donnie being a total ass, the rest of Bethesda’s covenmates are really nice. They don’t have a mean bone in their bodies.”
“Except for Killian . . . the possible attempted dog murderer,” I reminded, full-on snarky too.
Katie belted out a grunt as she raked her hands through her hair. “Maybe it really was an accident . . . or maybe he’s just a cat-person? I. Don’t. Know!” A telling twinkle sparked in her amber eyes. “You know he’ll be there . . . You could read his mind and find out what actually happened.”
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“Beatrix never had a problem with witchcraft, now did she?”
“Well, no,” I replied.
“Then let’s go . . . You can call it a test-run. See what they’re like as a whole and then decide for yourself how you truly feel about witches. So what do you think?”
I stared at her no different than I was looking through a transparent trash bag. “I think you’re trying to manipulate me, so you can network your way into a coven.”
“Well, duh,” she grinned. “But I also think it will help when you talk to Tanner. I know what’s really eating at you. The idea that he might tell you to stay away from me too.”
Bull’s-eye, I groaned silently, unable to look her in the eye. Yep. The lying-part couldn’t hold a candle to the notion that Katie being a witch might become a constant source of friction between us, and that bothered me to no end.
“And you can’t deny that you’re a little curious about this Lady Oleander and why she was meeting with Malachi,” she added. “Don’t forget . . . I can read your mind.”
“Trust me — I haven’t,” I grumbled and then secretly began scrambling my thoughts.
“I wouldn’t stress about it if I were you,” Katie remarked and then started sweeping all of her crumbs towards a spot on the table. “She was probably just interviewing him for her book about gemstones.” Then she pinched them between her fingers, sprinkled them onto her napkin, and crumpled it up into a tiny ball. “Or, he could have contacted her about a spell that would help him find his long, lost son,” she added while giving the tightly packed wad several pensive tosses. Then with a shameless smile, she pitched it towards a trashcan sitting six-feet away, sinking both of her well-aimed shots flawlessly.
I had to give it to my BFF; she was really bringing her A-game.
I sat there in silence for a moment, both filtering her out of my head and giving her insane proposal the full attention it deserved. Surely Tanner would want to know about some witch looking to teach the entire magic wand wielding world how to feed off Veil magic, which resulted in them dipping into Darklands magic the majority of the time. And I didn’t want to think about them pulling any creatures over by accident or punching any holes in The Veil on their quests for more juice. And yeah, the Malachi thing was disconcerting. He still didn’t have a clue where Lazarus was. Padimae was able to break the amber’s hold over Tanner, so it was possible that this Lady Oleander could do the same to Olaf. I picked up the book, unable to break my stare from the woman’s face. I wasn’t sure if it was the burn of an eerily fated-feeling or just a blinding flash of sheer stupidity, but something inside me conceded an, “Okay”, not three seconds later.
Katie started smacking her hands on the table and stomping her feet on the floor, reveling in her victory seat as humbly as she could. “Thank you, Shi!”
“Whatever,” I replied, feeling half on-board and half gun-shy. Good thing I was going in armed with my sword and ready to zap myself invisible if need be. Hopefully Malachi was still in South Africa, and this would turn out to be just some civil, supernatural-ish gathering — particularly with it being held in such a supposedly swank venue. Though after recalling Tanner’s warning about the probability of me finding trouble with Katie today, I couldn’t rule it out completely, no matter how posh of a party.
Bethesda returned roughly a minute later. “Thanks for watching my stuff,” she said.
“No problem,” I smiled.
Bethesda collected her book from off the table, slipped it back inside her bag, and then threw the tote over her shoulder. “I wish I could stay and chat with you some more, but I’ve really got to be heading off now.”
“Oh, I understand,” I assured her. “Katie and I were just sitting here talking about how much fun you’re going to have today. It sounds really fascinating.” At the risk of being overdramatic, I breathed out a somber sigh. “I kind of wish we had invitations.”
The only thing missing from Bethesda’s expression was a daggone chrome hook piercing her cheek — no Grade-A acting chops required. “Do you want to come?” she blurted.
I directed a glance towards Katie, who looked annoyingly aware that she’d left out the “two” that should have followed her “you”. “Weee would love to come!” I exclaimed.
“You don’t say,” Katie remarked, looking a shady hair away from snatching hold of my arm for another high-speed, winner-takes-Shiloh ditching.
Bethesda’s expression rumpled as soon as she turned to Katie. “Yes,” she admitted coolly. “But we can still go together — But you can’t embarrass me . . . And don’t pretend like you’re a member of my coven. If anyone asks, you are a Solitary Witch, practicing on your own and without any help from me.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed into a pair of slits. “No shit.”
Bethesda immediately whirled back to me. “But I’ll introduce you as my personal guest,” she cooed.
“Naturally,” Katie groaned.
With Bethesda’s demands officially on record, the elated witch made her way towards the door, riding high on her broomstick.
“Try not to enjoy this too much,” Katie groused.
“I make no promises,” I laughed. “Not when you’re the pea who’s choosing to stay in that pod.”