“No, I’ve got class. Ivanka’s there.” Faron hiked his backpack up, redistributing the weight of the books and computer wedged in it.
“Picking up some paint brushes. Bastards.”
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked into the Faculty of Arts building. It was going to be hard to focus on the history of the southern Slavs this morning. Maybe the lecture would be short and he could skip his lit class in the afternoon and go back to the teahouse.
——
Vesna wanted to call Jo, but her friend’s phone was still going straight to voice message. Vesna called her uncle instead.
“Are you going to go or not?”
“Good morning to you, too, Vesna.”
“Sorry. Can you come to the shop? I think we could use some spiritual advice this morning.” Her uncle’s gentle reproach rankled against her ungentle mood.
“That doesn’t sound like you. What happened?” His concern drifted through the connection, as diaphanous as his aura.
“You’ll see when you get here.” She tapped the screen to hang up. She had hoped he wouldn’t answer because he was already on his way to see Jo.
Gregor knocked on the frame of the office door. “The police are here.”
She nodded and shuffled some random papers together on the desk. The police weren’t going to be able to do much, take some pictures and add it to the list of hateful graffiti she’d seen around town. Frédéric was hardly a threat to the hegemonic whiteness of Slovenia, as if that were even a good thing, but nationalism wasn’t rational by nature. She followed Gregor out into the shop and grabbed her coat off the hook. Gregor held the door for her while she struggled into the sleeves.
Investigator Marta Klančnik stood with her hand on her hip, watching a uniformed officer take photos of the graffiti and the damage to the door and planters.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Gregor reached out to shake Marta’s hand.
“Anything at this address gets forwarded to my desk.” She grunted. “Is Lichtenberg around?”
“I haven’t seen him this morning, but that isn’t unusual.” Vesna shook the investigator’s hand. Marta had been lead on the investigation into Helena’s death and the events that followed. That she was aware of the goings-on behind the Veil had come as a surprise to both Vesna and her Uncle Leo.
Marta nodded. “Do you have CCTV set up?”
Gregor shook his head. “Jo doesn’t want it.”
“She might change her mind after this.” The investigator toed an uprooted rosemary plant on the cobbles.
Vesna laughed. “I doubt it. It’s a bit too Big Brother for her.”
“Where is she?” Marta looked up and glanced from Vesna to Gregor.
“Not here. Up in the mountains for a few weeks.”
Marta smirked. “Must be nice to be able to take off for awhile.”
Gregor arched his eyebrow at the investigator. “I doubt Jo sees it as nice. The rest of us saw it as necessary.”
“Is she up there alone?”
Gregor and Vesna both nodded.
“You think it’s a good idea?”
“I think it’s what Jo needed, and she’s an adult.” Gregor bent over and righted one of the unbroken pots, spilling more dirt onto the cobbles.
Marta harrumphed at them. “I take it your chef has already seen this?”
Vesna nodded. “Fred’s inside doing the prep.”
“You aren’t going to close today?” Marta looked both surprised and impressed.
“No. Fred says no. Gregor and I say no.”
“I’m finished, Investigator Klančnik.” The uniformed officer held out a small digital camera to Marta.
She took it. “Good. I’ll take the statements. You can head back.”
He looked at her with uncertainty. Vesna guessed it wasn’t how things were usually done, but it was already clear most vandalism incidents didn’t merit attention from the Homicide and Sexual Offense Division.
“It’s okay. You can tell Primož to call me if he has a problem.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The officer nodded at them all and disappeared through the arched door onto Zajčeva.
Marta leveled her gaze at Gregor and Vesna. “Is there anything else going on I should know about?”
“No. I think it’s asshole kids or something.” Gregor didn’t sound as certain as his words indicated.
“Maybe.” Marta didn’t look or sound reassuring. “We’ve got photos. You can clean up.”
“I’ll talk to Jo again about cameras.” Vesna already knew how that conversation would go. She could see her friend’s lowered “you’re kidding, right?” gaze as clearly as if she were standing in front of her.
The investigator shook their hands and left.
Gregor looked at Vesna. “Do you think we need to be worried?”
“Not worried. But cautious.”
“Aren’t we always.”
Gregor still didn’t like knowing there was anything beyond what he could touch and see. Vesna and Jo both attempted to shield him from what they could, but nationalist vandalism was beyond even her best efforts.
“Yes. But this is much more of-the-world. Are you going to hang out here for a few minutes? I need to run a quick errand.” Vesna shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets.
“Of course. I think I could use a cup of Frédéric’s tea.”
She smiled. “It’s definitely bracing.”
Gregor went back inside, and she crossed the courtyard to Goran’s. When she pushed the door open, a chime sounded in the recesses of the antique shop. Goran’s salt-and-pepper head poked out from behind a partially opened door that lead to the private area of the store.
“Ah, Vesna, come on back. I was just getting set up.”
“Set up for what?” She’d only come to ask if he had a charm or something for the shop.
She walked through the orderly tangle of furniture and home goods to the back of the store. The smell of beeswax from the wood polish and from freshly lit candles mingled at the threshold to the back room.
He closed the door behind her. The back of the shop was a completely different world. Heavy black drapery covered the walls and could be pulled over the door. Standing candelabra filled with long tapers whose flames licked at the darkness ringed the room. Goran’s altar was centered inside a painted circle and pentagram on the floor.
“Would you like to join me? I’m going to do a stronger protection spell for the building. Jo’s wards are pretty good for a novice, but they are only against malevolent spirits — not malevolent people.”
Vesna nodded. “Good idea. But I wouldn’t know where to start. It’s not my thing.”
“I’ll walk you through what you need to do. You live here, too, and adding your energy will strengthen the wards.”
“I guess.” It wasn’t the strangest thing she’d been asked to do.
He fanned incense smoke over her and had her step inside the circle on the floor. He invited his ancestors and the elements of the cardinal directions to join and protect them as he lit candles clockwise around the circle at the points of the star. He chanted as he poured a thin line of Piran salt over the painted circle and took her hand when he finished.
“Here we go, dear. Nothing to worry about.”
Vesna blinked against the dull winter light when she walked back into the courtyard. Her arms and face were still tingling from whatever energy Goran had called up in his circle. He followed her out onto the cobbles with a hooked stick and a string of brass bells on a red cord.
Ivanka and friends of hers and Faron’s from the Zombie Church were using razor blades to scrape spray paint off the windows. Two other Tuesday night regulars, Marko and Aleš, were replanting what was left of the winter herbs that had been scattered on the cobbles into new pots.
He dusted his hands when he’d finished and whispered to her. “That should keep the bastards out.”
“I hope you’re right. Should Jo continue to do her thing for the bad spirits?”
“It can’t hurt. The wards will only strengthen each other. You should eat something to ground you.” Goran waved and disappeared back into his shop.
Vesna thanked the Zombie Church folks for helping and asked them in for tea and lunch when they finished what they could do. One of them had taken out the broken pane of glass in the front door and replaced it with a piece of plywood.
Leo was camped at a table with Gregor at the back of the teashop. She hung her coat on one of the hooks by the door and joined them.
Fred must’ve heard the bells strike the wood when she’d come in and stepped out of the kitchen. “Would you like some tea?”
“Thanks, I can get it myself.” She stood back up and walked to the orderly tea station. Jo had been insistent on keeping it stocked and arranged in a way that made it easy to have multiple pots brewing and have access to all the teas, not only the brews for the day. Vesna’s heart stung at how little she’d been able to help her friend arrange her life back into some orderly fashion. At least she’d introduced her to Leo, but maybe that was its own complication. She’d watched Jo’s aura swirl out and back around her uncle when they spoke. It had been unlikely her friend would let herself fall for someone before, now it seemed impossible.
“Fred, do you need some help?” She watched as he stirred the day’s soup. The smell of cumin and turmeric filled the small kitchen.
“Everything is in the oven or needs to be prepped closer to opening. Ivanka will finish the sandwiches when she’s done out front.” He wiped his hands on the towel he kept tucked into the top of his apron.
“I’m really sorry this happened.”
He nodded. “But not surprised. I’ve seen the other graffiti. I am angry the shop got vandalized, though.”
“That can be fixed. Goran put … Goran said to let him know if you need anything.”
“Is Faron coming back to wash dishes tonight?”
“As far as I know. Why?”
“Worried about him. Having your father show up unannounced …” He pursed his lips.
“I think he has his head screwed on pretty straight. He’s unlikely to be dazzled by Dušan after being ignored by him for his whole life.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Me, too.” She poured the last of Fred’s builders’ special into a clean cup and walked back to the table.
Her uncle looked up at her. The turmoil in his aura was reflected in the dark circles under his eyes. He had fallen hard for Jo, just as she predicted he would. She wished she could be wrong about these things.
“So, I think we need to tell Fred what’s going on with Jo and the neighborhood he works in. I nearly spilled the beans about Goran.”
“Goran?” Gregor looked at her, his eyebrow arched.
“Yeah. About Goran.” She flicked some lint off her pants. “He’s a witch.”
Gregor continued to look at her, both eyebrows now closer to his hairline. “Jesus, is there anything in this town that isn’t supernatural?”
“A few things.” Leo took a sip of his tea.
“Like white supremacists who trash shops because brown people work there?” She wasn’t smiling.
“Yes. That is something to be concerned about.” Gregor set his cup back on the saucer.
“Well, doubly so. The new girl starts Monday, and she’s Romani. Goran put improved wards on the building. He said Jo’s were only for ghosts, but his were for malevolent people.” Vesna looked down into her tea but had no desire to see if it held any of their fortunes.
Gregor laughed. “Maybe that will keep Dušan out. I can’t believe he was brave enough to show up here.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised. Dušan pretty much does whatever the hell he wants.” Vesna had been witness to that from the beginning of his relationship with her friend.
Gregor sighed. “True.”
Leo looked at both of them. “So who is going to tell Fred?”
“Tell Fred what?” Fred stood behind Gregor with a plate of scones. He set them on the table. “I thought you all might want something with your tea.”
Leo took a scone and set it on the edge of his saucer. “You might want to go get your cup. This is going to be a long story.”
Frédéric looked at all of them in astonishment and swore in French and then Arabic for good measure. “Is there a reason you waited this long to tell me? And did you honestly think I didn’t know anything was going on?”
Vesna took a sip of tea. She’d never seen their Algerian friend so upset. “I knew you were observant, and Jo is a poor actress and a worse liar. She wasn’t ready for everyone to know she was a ‘freak.’ Her word.”
Fred laughed. “I work in a den of alsahara. It explains a lot.” He stood up.
“Are you angry?” Vesna watched his face and the swirl of color around his crown to see if they matched.
“No. Hurt perhaps, if Jo and you felt you could not trust me.”
“It wasn’t about trust.”
Fred nodded. “Since we are all sharing, you must know that Dušan Črnigad is also sahira.” He walked back to the kitchen.
Vesna looked at Leo. “Did you know this?”
“I have never met the man.” Her uncle looked uncomfortable at the mention of the name.
She put her head in her hands. “I’ve met him, several times. The first time was a million years ago at ŠKUC.”
“Could you not tell anything about him from his aura?” There was an accusation in Leo’s question. She had failed to protect Jo from Dušan, whatever he was.
“I was very drunk, and he and Jo were talking and standing so close together that their auras were all entwined. I thought it was just lust.” Dušan’s intellectual bad-boy routine had been like catnip for Jo.
Gregor patted her hand. “This is insane. You can’t possibly blame yourself for Dušan, and without him, we wouldn’t have Faron. And you.” He turned to give Leo another of his perfectly arched eyebrow glares. “Surely you’ve figured out by now that Jo keeps her own counsel in that arena, and no amount of advice from Vesna or me would have changed anything she did then. Or now.” The now was rather pointed.
Leo looked properly chastised. “I didn’t mean to imply–”
“You did, but I understand. I have work to do, as does Gregor, I assume.” Vesna stood and put her hand on Leo’s shoulder. “You have a rental car to pick up.”
Chapter 7
Jo was pissed. She had told Gregor and Vesna no one should come to the house. The black car was a rental, so it could be anyone, but she suspected Gregor, or maybe Leo. They had both clucked over her like hens the week before she left.
She opened the door expecting one of them to jump at her return. She was the one who jumped.
“Only milk, as I recall.” Dušan stood in the small living area holding a cup of coffee out to her, looking almost exactly the same as when he’d walked away from her more than two decades before.
She took the cup and stared at him.
“I thought you would be surprised to see me, but not enough for you to be at a loss for words.”
She took a deep breath. “How the fuck did you get here?”
“In the car outside, of course.”
“Amusing. How did you know where I was?”
“Does it matter? I am here because we have much to discuss regarding our son.”
“Now he’s ‘our son’? I thought he was just a line item on your monthly expenses.” Being in a room with Dušan was like having a b
ucket of ice water poured down her back. She could barely breathe, but she was not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing how upset she was.
“You should drink that before it cools. Would you like to sit at the table or would you be more comfortable on the couch?”
His calm was infuriating and calculated. Dušan never did anything by half measures, not even being an asshole. He went in full-bore on that. “The table.” She’d have a better angle for kicking him.
He started to take the cup from her. “Take your boots off. You’ll track snow through the house.”
She pulled her arm back and threw the cup at him. He put his hand up, and the cup and the coffee stopped in mid-arc on its way to his face. He turned his hand and flicked his palm toward him and the coffee went back into the cup. He plucked it from the air. “You’re angry, but that was unnecessary.”
“How dare you let yourself in and patronize me.”
He laughed. “Jo, you have not changed. Anger still registers before surprise.”
“There’s little left to surprise me.” At least his intentions had been revealed. He knew what she was. She kicked her boots off and shoved her feet into house shoes. Dušan’s boots were lined up against the wall, immaculate next to her snow-caked ones.
“Sit. We do have much to discuss.”
She sat and took a sip of the coffee. It was fresh and tasted better than the pot she’d made that morning.
“I brought my own.”
She looked up at him over the edge of the mug then set it down. “It is good. Can you read minds, too?”
“Only faces, and yours was always and remains an open book to anyone who can see.”
Was she so transparent? “Why are you here?”
“I am here because you and Faron have no idea what is coming for you.”
“You mean it isn’t sitting across from me smirking like a jackass?”
“I am the least of your troubles. Does that hideous hat actually work? Have you spoken with Helena since you have been here?”
“It isn’t ‘hideous,’ and yes it works. Though–”
“I am not worried about your companion. I do not think he is involved or of much consequence.”
Our Lady of the Various Sorrows (Voices of the Dead Book 2) Page 6