by CJ England
And he would be doing so alone.
He turned away from the luscious figure in silk, grief again filling his soul. He’d been so sure he’d find her. The one female to complete him. He’d searched for hundreds of years, in all the countries of the world. In the last three centuries, he narrowed it down to the human species, but even that hadn’t helped. She was still nowhere to be found.
Granted, his time in the world hadn’t been completely lonely. He’d found and wooed many women, learning the human art of lovemaking easily. But none of them carried the spark. The telltale knowledge she was the other half of his soul. He’d loved them and then left them, always moving on to search for the one woman he needed to make his life complete.
Unable to help himself, he glanced over his shoulder at Aithne. She was talking to one of the clowns, laughing gaily at something he’d said. She put her hand on the clown’s striped shirt and leaned up to whisper in his ear.
Milcham clenched his fists as the unfamiliar emotion of jealousy ran through him. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t want her touching anyone.
Anyone…but him.
Cursing again, he whirled around and stomped off toward his office. He’d stood by long enough. Tonight, he would talk to the witch and get her out of his life, once and for all.
High above the carnival, crouched down on top of the now still ‘Ferris Wheel’, the Ancient One frowned. He stared down at the retreating figure of the Phoenix , and then at the sweet voiced woman who stood laughing in the light of the sun.
She was a wild card. This woman with her strange powers and wise eyes tempted the Phoenix, but since he hadn’t sent her, Satan was wary of her. She seemed familiar to him in some way, but who and what was she? Her thoughts were unknown to him, hidden by a pure and innocent heart. It was for that reason, she troubled him.
For close to a thousand years he’d succeeded in keeping Milcham distracted by women from all over the world. Satan had tossed dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands his way, but though the Phoenix had enjoyed them, and even loved a few, he’d never made the ultimate sacrifice, and told them who he was.
Satan gnashed his teeth. His plan from the beginning was to tempt the Phoenix with women who were not his twin-flame…not his soulmate. He wanted him to tell these women about himself and maybe even take one of the false soulmates with him to try the renewing fire. He’d used every trick and lure he could, always careful to abide by the agreement he’d made with Yahweh. But nothing had worked. Milcham always stopped short of admitting who he was.
But time was running out. In a month, whether the Phoenix found his soulmate or not, the thousand years would be up and he would return to his nest and gain another millennium of immortality. Satan was determined that wouldn’t happen. He wanted this favorite of Yahweh…to die.
Closing his eyes and snarling words that were black and corrupt, he called on the very powers of hell to help him. The agreement between Yahweh and himself be damned. He would see to it the Phoenix would fail to find his true love. And, he would do everything possible to destroy him, as well.
And woe to the woman who truly was his soulmate. If she ever darkened the Phoenix ’s door, the Ancient One would do what he tried to do when he first knew of her existence.
He would destroy her.
—
Later that night, Aithne stretched tiredly. Even though she usually didn’t open her tent until dusk, the midway didn’t close until midnight, and six hours in a chair made her stiff.
She’d made good money that day. The price of the reading, plus quite a few tips. Aithne’s soft lips quirked. She knew it wasn’t the readings that earned her the extra money. The tips came from young men who wanted her to take notice of them. But she ignored them. She gave the men their readings, and took their money, but they were all like children to her. After a hundred years, they all seemed too young.
She smiled again, this time sadly. Or was it because she was too old? Not in years, but in experience. Would she ever find a man who was wise beyond his age?
Milcham stood in the doorway watching her. His eyes burned when she put her arms over her head and stretched. He fought down the desire to rush over and pull her to the ground. When her mouth tipped in a sad smile, he fought emotion again, but this time he wanted to pull her into his arms to comfort her. What was she doing to him? Was she bewitching him without a single word?
Ignoring the rising heat in his body, he stepped forward into the light. She froze and looked up at him. He felt the same jolt he always did when their eyes met, and he gritted his teeth at the unwelcome sensation.
“Mr. Phoenix,” she said after a moment, her husky voice curling around him like a siren’s song. “What can I do for you?”
He cleared his throat, forcing back his desire. “I thought it was time we talked.”
She inclined her head, never taking her eyes from his. “Please, sit and be comfortable.”
Milcham shook his head. He couldn’t afford to get comfortable around her. “Thank you, no. This won’t take long.”
A perfect ebony eyebrow arched. “Indeed? That sounds most…serious.” She folded her hands in her lap. “What have you to say to me?”
Damned if she didn’t make him feel like a peasant standing before a queen. He laughed to himself. Was she trying to intimidate him? He who had lived for millennia? “I want you to leave.”
“Why?”
She answered so quickly, he knew she wasn’t surprised at his request. “I don’t want your kind here. Rufus overstepped himself by hiring you.” His eyes raked over her curvaceous form. “Though I can understand why?”
She stiffened and raised her chin. “And why do you think that is, Mr. Phoenix? Perhaps, because he felt my readings would benefit this carnival?”
Milcham laughed sourly. “More like he thought it would benefit him. You are a beautiful woman, as you well know.” He was surprised to see a blush stain her cheeks.
“Whether I am beautiful or not makes no difference to how I do my readings. I promised Rufus nothing. I am an honest woman trying to make a living.”
“You’re a witch.”
Aithne’s mouth dropped open and she was shaken out of her calm demeanor. “I beg your pardon?”
His eyes glowed in the darkness of the tent. “You are a witch.”
“I heard you the first time,” she said irritably. “I’d like to know what you mean by that.”
His broad shoulders moved in a shrug. “You tell fortunes, you read cards, you predict the future. You are a witch.”
All she could do was stare at him in astonishment. She’d been called a witch before, but not with such a tone of utter disgust.
“I will not have your type of…game in my carnival. I will buy out your contract, but I want you to leave immediately.”
Fury raced through her, pushing out the utter shock. “You dare walk in here and say such a thing? I have a gift I use to help people. What’s wrong with that?”
His eyes flashed. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” he said sternly. “But I will make due with tossing you out. People frown on murder.”
Aithne came to her feet filled with so many emotions she couldn’t name them. He’d threatened her. Actually, threatened her. “You…you,” she sputtered. “How dare you!”
His eyes narrowed. “You said that before.”
She took a deep breath, reining in her temper. She didn’t lose it often, but when she did, even her brother ran for cover. She stared at the handsome man before her. Too bad he was a prejudiced, arrogant, self righteous bastard. She put her hands on her hips and prepared to do battle. “How do you know my gift isn’t from God, himself? That it isn’t in my very blood? There are all kinds of…what you would call witches in this world.”
He growled and stepped towards her. “Do not mock me.”
She stood her ground. She looked into his eyes and was taken aback by what she saw…what she sensed there. They were full of mystery and anger and
sadness. But she saw longing too. Her whole being softened. Suddenly, she knew it was very important to make him understand.
She placed a gentle hand on his arm, and almost smiled when he flinched. “I am no evil witch, Mr. Phoenix. I am a simple woman who has been given a gift. How can I prove myself to you?”
Milcham had to stop himself from jerking away from her. “Do not try and tempt me! I know what you are, and I will not allow you to corrupt my people.”
Her eyes narrowed again, all gentleness gone. She looked like an angry goddess ready to destroy him. “Test me.”
He blinked. “Test you?”
She stepped back and waved at the table. “Test me. Allow me to do a reading for you. If I am accurate, then you know I am truly gifted. If I miss things, you will know I am a charlatan.”
He thought for a moment, and then shook his head. “The evil one could give you the true information to deceive me.”
She rolled her green eyes. “Please. If you are as righteous as you think you are, pray with me for protection. So you will see I am telling the truth.”
His curiosity was peaked, and the truth be told, he was enjoying sparring with her. He almost hoped she could put on a good enough show that he could pretend to be convinced. Then he shook his head. He could not allow her to tempt him into wrongdoing. He must be strong.
“Please.”
Her voice was again, soft and husky and before he could stop himself, he nodded. Immediately, he wanted to kick himself.
“Then sit,” Aithne said, smiling in relief. She walked back to her place and seated herself. When he stood unmoving, she rolled her eyes again. “I can’t do a reading for you if you don’t sit.”
Obviously reluctant, he sat gingerly on the folded metal chair. His big form dwarfed the small table, making everything look smaller.
“I do not like this,” he growled.
Aithne shuffled the cream colored tarot cards, her lips moving in silent prayer. When she was done, she smiled mockingly. “I’ll be gentle with you.” She set them in front of him. “Cut them, please.”
Milcham sent his own prayers to heaven as he picked up the cards. A bolt of heat shot through him, and he shuddered, his body tightening dramatically at the feeling. Quickly, he cut the cards, and pushed them back at her. When she reached to pick them up, she gasped and fumbled them, her eyes lifting to meet his. Could she have felt the same thrill of warmth he did?
“Do you have a question to ask?”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“You may ask a question of the cards and they will answer. Or, you may just allow the cards to speak to you. Either way will work fine.”
His brow furrowed in thought. “I will ask a question.”
She nodded, and fanned the cards out on the table. “Speak it out loud.”
Milcham stared at her. It couldn’t be just anything. It had to be something he alone would know the answer to. After a moment of thought, he smiled. “I wish you to tell me where I came from.”
Aithne tipped her head in thought. “You mean where you were born?”
He folded his arms across his muscular chest and grinned. “Exactly what I said. Where did I come from?”
There was a trick to it somewhere. Aithne knew it immediately. He was trying to trip her up. She took a slow breath to calm her nerves and steady her thrumming heart. She held her hands out over the cards and prayed for guidance. Then, lifting the cards in her hands, she began to deal.
“Since you don’t know anything about Tarot cards…” she glanced up at the silent man. “You don’t, do you?”
“No,” he grunted.
“Then I will make it easy. First off, the cards can’t tell you the exact place you came from. They aren’t created to do that. What they will do is tell you about where and how you came. Do you understand?”
“I thought you could tell me my past and future.”
Aithne shook her head and the tent filled with the sound of jingling bells. “I can tell you only what the cards tell me. But they will speak about your past, and where you came from, this I promise.”
She cut the cards into three piles. “With your left hand, choose a single card and lay it before you.”
“Just one?”
She nodded. “We will start with a simple single card spread. If you want to continue after that, we can do another.”
He smirked and leaning forward, picked up a card. “There will be no need.” Tossing it down in front of him, he frowned. “So…what is it?”
Chapter Two
Aithne stared at the card before him. A tiny shiver went up her back and she took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she tried to listen to the voice inside her that helped her read the cards. “It is The Judgment card. It symbolizes many things.”
“Like what?”
Her eyes opened and they were very green in the low candlelight. “You have placed the card in an upright position so they represent awakening, renewal, a well lived life, better health, or a quickened mind.”
She touched the card gently. “In your case I see long life and renewal. A rebirth if you like.”
Milcham was shaken by her words. To cover, he cleared his throat. “What does that have to do with where I came from?”
She licked her lips, causing his body to tighten again. “I believe…where you came from has to do with the journey you are on. You look for renewal…for your body and your…heart. Where you came from is tied up in this.” Her eyes met his. “I am correct, am I not?”
“I don’t believe any single card,” he bluffed, uncomfortable with how accurate she was about him. “Do another.”
He could tell she was suppressing a smile, but he was very curious now. He leaned forward and waited while she shuffled the deck. At her nod he reached out and picked another card, setting it gingerly in front of him. His neck prickled as he looked at the picture. “What is this one?”
Looking up at him, her face was a study in amazement. “It is The Six of Swords. It represents a journey, a passage away from sorrow where harmony will prevail.” She caressed the card with one long fingertip. “Basically, it is saying the same thing to me. You are on a journey to find yourself. Where there once was sadness, soon you will find joy.”
Milcham’s throat closed up. Could this be true? Was this witch speaking the truth? How else could she know this?
Aithne gathered up the cards quietly. “I will do one more reading for you. Then you will tell me if you think I’m still evil.” Without waiting for his answer, she shuffled the cards again and with her left hand, she laid them out in the same three piles.
“Use your left hand and choose three cards, from any pile. Lay them in front of you left to right, one at a time.”
Silently, he obeyed until three cards stared up at him. “Tell me what it means.”
“This spread represents your past, your present and your future,” she said tightly. Looking at the cards made her somehow frightened. “I can tell you the meaning of each card, or I can tell you what I see in them.”
“Both.”
She sighed. Her heart was beating very fast. She tapped the first one with her finger. “This is your past. You have chosen The Sun card, but it is upside down. It can mean loneliness and unhappiness, lack of friends or loved ones. What I see is you…on your own. Not just once…” she frowned at the card. “But over and over again. As if you lived many lifetimes, yet always alone.”
“The next one?” His voice was hoarse.
Aithne swallowed. She smoothed her thumb over the next card. “This next card is your present. This is The Eight of Cups, and it is also reversed. It is another card that signifies journeys. More specifically, it speaks of a search for pleasure, seeking joy or success, anew love interest.”
She glanced up at the big man and blushed. “You seek a woman. But, not just any woman. She is special. And you will search until you find her.”
Milcham’s body was so tight, it hurt. He stared at the small
woman before him, not knowing whether he should curse her or kiss her. He stared at the last card and a tingle went up his spine. “And this card?”
She bit her lip again, but this time he was concentrating on the cards too much to notice. “This is your future, and this card is The World. It is a good card to get, Mr. Phoenix.”
“It is?”
She nodded, pleasure in her voice. “It means completion, perfection, recognition, success, fulfillment, triumph, and eternal life.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I see…” her voice became very low, yet it kept its husky musical tone. “I see you are from a far away place. I don’t understand why, but, this place is your home, and you love it, yet you feel trapped. I see you there again and again. It’s like looking at the same picture superimposed on top of itself.”
She tipped her head, as if waiting for something. “You are sad and alone, and then you are allowed to leave to travel the world on a quest for…for love.” Her eyes popped open and met his. “You seek your soulmate,” she said in an amazed whisper. “Your twin-flame.”
Milcham jumped to his feet. “How do you know this?” He leaned over and grabbed her by the arms, jostling the table as he did so.
She stood very still, her eyes wide in her exotic face. “You’re hurting me!”
Immediately, he let go of her. In all his life, he’d never used force with a woman. “I’m sorry, I…” he trailed off when he saw her look down at the table and the color in her face drain away. Without thinking, he grabbed her again, this time to steady her.
“Aithne,” he urged, his hands running up and down in an unconscious effort to steady her. “What is wrong?”
Freeing herself, she pointed to his cards. The jostling of the table revealed a second card beneath the card marking his future. Milcham frowned. “They must have stuck together. So what?”
Aithne sat down hard in her chair. Shakily, she touched the card. “A second card means your future is unsure. Your destiny is still to be written. The first card in this pile speaks of success, of triumph and eternal life.” She hesitated.