04 Sphere Song - The Isle of Destiny

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Come, my beautiful birds. It’s time to dance with the fae.” Maddox clapped his hands. “You get to meet more of my people. What fun!”

  They all followed him down the steps of the apartment and into the pub.

  “Are we the first ones here?” Sasha wondered, tugging at the deep red gown that hugged her slim curves like a glove.

  “They must be out back,” Maddox hummed, and they followed him. Neala knew something was up when he paused and threw the door open dramatically.

  Instantly, Bianca began to cry.

  The courtyard was lined with hundreds of candles, and magickal fairy lights hung suspended in the air. The tables had been removed and nothing remained but rows of chairs with an aisle leading to an altar. Flowers climbed the birch branches that created an awning sparkling with gold and magick, beneath which Seamus kneeled, a ring box in his hand.

  “Ohhhhh,” Neala breathed, and Gwen squeezed her arm. Clare wiped tears from her eyes and they all waited on Bianca.

  “Bianca,” Seamus said and Bianca rushed forward, barreling past the surprised people sitting in the chairs who laughed at her enthusiasm.

  “Seamus! You didn’t!” Bianca gushed, wiping her tears.

  “You’re it for me, my love. I’ve wanted a life with you since the moment I saw you. I’ve bided my time, but I don’t want to wait a moment longer. Will you make me the happiest man of all time and be my wife? Will you light up my life for all eternity?” Seamus asked, still on bended knee.

  “Of course I will. I didn’t even understand what love was until I met you,” Bianca said, and Seamus stood, capturing her lips in a kiss.

  “Ahem. I didn’t say to kiss the bride yet.” Fiona stood there, regal in a deep blue gown with flowers pinned to the bodice.

  “We’re getting married!” Bianca squealed, turning to wave to the girls. Maddox dutifully handed off bouquets of flowers, and before she knew it, Neala was standing as a bridesmaid at one of the prettiest and most loving weddings she’d ever had the privilege of attending.

  And when it was over, they danced into the wee hours of the night, the fae singing a merry tune, the pints flowing. The music carried outside to where Neala had paused to catch her breath and look up into the starry night sky.

  “There you are,” Dagda said, coming forward, a pack on his back.

  “What’s the pack for?” Neala said, straightening her shoulders, and preparing herself for a goodbye. She should have known. The man was a wanderer and always would be.

  “For us,” Dagda said, bending to kiss her lips.

  “Us?”

  “I promised you a date in Greece, didn’t I?” Dagda demanded.

  “I… you did at that,” Neala said, and found the light inside, brimming over until she laughed in complete joy. “We’re going now?”

  “That we are. I wouldn’t let my woman down.”

  So saying, he swept her into his arms and Neala gasped as they winked out of sight, Dagda employing the fae magick she’d seen him use once before. Hanging on, she let her head rest on his chest and listened to his heart, knowing that what the goddess had said was right.

  Look for the light, for love is always the answer.

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  The following is an excerpt from One Tequila

  Book 1 in the Althea Rose Mystery Series

  Chapter 1

  “But I'm quite certain Bitsy would wish to speak with me,” the woman across from me sniffed and clutched a folded silk handkerchief with a perfectly monogrammed E on the corner. The point of her chin rose as she looked down her nose at me.

  “Mrs. Evanston, I've already explained this – I'm a psychic – not a medium,” I sighed as Mrs. Evanston's eyes steeled up and her shoulders braced.

  “Well, I'd say that you're certainly misleading people with your little psychic shop if you can't even talk to Bitsy for me.” Mrs. Evanston narrowed her eyes at me. I could already read the threat in her mind: she would be contacting the Better Business Bureau and by lunch, she'd be tearing my reputation to threads with her Ladies Who Lunch club. Mentally rolling my eyes, I plastered a smile across my face.

  “The reason that I don't advertise being a medium is because it's so incredibly draining for me,” I began, lying through my teeth. “However, for you, I'll make an exception.”

  A muffled snort from a screen to my left almost had me cracking a smile but instead, I stayed focused on my client. Hope had dawned in Mrs. Evanston's eyes as she leaned forward, hands pressed into the purple velvet of my table.

  “You can? Oh, oh, just...can you tell me if she is safe?” Mrs. Evanston breathed, staring into my glass scrying ball on the table.

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten, doing my best to get an image of Bitsy from Mrs. Evanston's thoughts. A puffball of a white cat popped into my head, so I went with it.

  “Her coat is just as stunning as it was in life – I see her walking proudly,” I said, keeping my eyes closed and praying that I had hit the mark.

  “Ohhhh,” Mrs. Evanston breathed and I snuck a look to see her with a hand over her mouth, a sheen of tears making her eyes glint behind her glasses. Her hair, the perfectly blue-gray rinse favored by the elderly set on Tequila Key, bobbed as she nodded.

  “She was really proud of her coat. Bitsy was a show cat, you know,” Mrs. Evanston said.

  “I can see she carries herself as such. She is wonderfully happy and has told me that her only concern is for you to find peace with her passing,” I said gently, using my de rigueur explanation when clients insisted that I contact a loved one.

  No matter what, it seemed that when people heard psychic, they thought I could do anything.

  Magic even.

  I'd leave that to my best friend and business partner, Luna Lavelle, the one who had so gracefully snorted from the other room of our Luna Rose Potions & Tarot Shop tucked on a sleepy street in Tequila Key, Florida.

  “You know, Althea Rose, your mother may be the famous one, but I think you've inherited her gift,” Mrs. Evanston said, rising to shake my hand with a smile. I scanned her thoughts and all I got was pleasure, so as far as I was concerned, the reading had been a successful one.

  I checked my moral compass and decided as white lies go, it was a minor one. People only come to psychics for two reasons – to find out if they will be okay and to find out if someone they love will be okay. I turned my palm over to look at the $1 tip she had pressed into my hands. I had to laugh. Though the rich in this town liked to flaunt it with country club passes and fancy houses, in all reality they were stingy to the core.

  Pressing my hands to my eyes, I willed back a headache that threatened to dull my thoughts.

  “Drink this,” Luna said, interrupting my brief debate over closing shop for the day or not.

  I smiled at her as I took whatever potion she had mixed up for me and held it to my nose. Luna slipped into the chair across from me and waved an impatient hand at the drink.

  “Althea, I know your tastes by now, you'll like it.”

  Vanilla mint soothed my throat as I sipped the cool liquid and my head cleared instantaneously. I tilted the now empty glass at her in a salute.

  “You should sell this.”

  Luna sighed and tucked her stick-straight blonde hair behind her ear. My best friend and business partner was my antithesis in every way. Airy, elegant, with a sharp business mind and mile-long legs, Luna made her living breaking men's hearts and helping the down and out of Tequila Key.

  That whole white witch thing didn't give her much room on the “bound to help” area of her life, I thought. Much like the Hippocratic Oath – when Luna saw suffering, she sought to fix it.

  And didn't that just make her a better person than I?

  Annoyed with where my thoughts were going, I refocused on Luna.

  “Bad day?” she asked.

  “Could be bet
ter. Drinks on me tonight!” I sang, holding up the dollar bill that Mrs. Evanston had left me with. Luna's warm chuckle flowed across the table – a light and lilting sound. I’d seen men turn at thirty paces and backtrack just to meet her after hearing Luna's laugh.

  “Oh, like Beau ever makes us pay,” Luna said with a smile, speaking of Beau Redford, our mutual best friend and owner of Lucky's Tiki Bar.

  “It scares me to think what our tab could be.” I pushed away from the table, unaccountably antsy, and paced my side of the store.

  The Luna Rose Potions & Tarot Shop was a combination of our names and a clash of our personalities. From the outside, a whimsical coastal cottage with two front doors welcomed our clientele. The weathered white siding with stars and moons painted across the wood just added to the charm that was peculiar to this section of Tequila Key. But – depending on which door a client chose to walk through – two different worlds awaited.

  My side, the Tarot & Psychic shop, was set up precisely as one would expect a tarot shop to be. A few years ago, I'd gotten a bee in my bonnet about dispelling the myth of un-professionalism in the tarot world and had transformed my shop into a waiting room similar to a lawyer's office. Soothing gray tones with light pink accents, a potted plant in the corner. Luna had scoffed at it and to my surprise, my business had all but dried up.

  I've since learned not to mess with people's expectations.

  Now, my side screamed “PSYCHIC! LIVE READING!” louder than a flashing neon sign on the window. Miles of red and purple crushed velvet was draped across the tables and chairs, while crystals, statues, and incense cluttered the shelves that lined the room. A privacy screen blocked my clients from the other side of the shop and a combination of Luna's new age music and her magic kept clients in the potion shop from hearing the dark secrets shared in mine.

  I loved my little shop, I thought with a smile. A skeleton in the corner sported a Ramone's t-shirt and Day of the Dead candles lined my altar. It fit me to a T.

  I flipped my hand over to check the time on my watch, the face turned inside my wrist so as to allow me to discreetly check the time during my readings. Below the watch, an intricate tattoo wound its way up my inner arm, holding both an evil eye design and Celtic warrior protection symbols.

  One could never be too safe.

  “I like your color this week,” Luna said, gesturing to my hair. I stopped my pacing and turned to stand in front of a small ornate mirror to study my reflection. Curls in every shade from deep brown to neon pink rioted around my face, subdued only by a jeweled headband with a skull that I'd tucked in there earlier in the day. Reaching up to fluff my curls, I tilted my head.

  “The pink does pop my eyes a bit,” I said.

  “Those cat eyes of yours pop no matter what,” Luna said dryly.

  I suppose they do, I thought as I widened my green eyes that naturally slanted at the corners. A flowing silk maxi dress, the color of the sea at dawn, covered my body and made me look like one tall cool cylinder of water. Well, water with a few ripples, I thought, eyeing a generous butt that the flowing dress didn't fully conceal.

  “I love this dress,” I decided and turned back to smile at Luna.

  “You say that every time you wear it,” Luna said with a smile, standing and stretching. A dainty white camisole and white linen slacks covered her thin frame. White linen slacks that didn't dare wrinkle, I might add.

  “I have my ways,” Luna said, reading my thoughts.

  “I can't do white. I never understand how you can wear white every day and not get stains on it,” I grumbled.

  “Maybe you should try paying attention to where you are going and you won't end up with stains so much,” Luna said gently and motioned for me to follow her to her side of the shop.

  “We closing out for the day?” I asked, and turned to switch a small beaded lamp off behind my table.

  “Unless you have any more appointments?” Luna's voice floated back to me.

  “Nah, and I doubt we'll get a walk-in today. Tuesdays are typically pretty slow,” I murmured as I went around the room clicking off lamps and throwing the bolt in the front door on my side. I stood at the window for a moment, peering out into our sleepy street, my anxiety still high.

  “It's nothing,” I reprimanded myself and slid the blinds closed, grabbing my beaded, fringed, slouchy boho bag.

  Stepping from my shop to Luna's was like going from Walmart to Neiman Marcus. Elegance oozed from every whitewashed corner. Luna had gone with upscale beachy, with a predominant theme of white, gray, and gold showcased throughout the room. Large reclaimed wood tables and shelves held hundreds of bottles, each with a gold top and a fancy white-and-gold label. Luna believed that presentation was everything and I couldn't argue with her, as her potions and elixirs were in demand around the world. At times I wondered if she thought my side of the shop was dragging hers down.

  “Why do you have that look on your face?” Luna asked, squinting her blue eyes at me, one small line marring her perfect forehead.

  “I just am always amazed that you're willing to slum it with the likes of me,” I said, gesturing to the beautiful display of crystals on a table in front of me.

  “Knock it off, you bitch,” Luna swore, knowing that curses coming from her delicate mouth would get me chuckling.

  “You're the bitch,” I said, cracking a smile at her.

  “See? This is why we are best friends and perfectly suited to do business together,” Luna said, pointing a finger at me as she moved behind her counter and began to total her receipts.

  I traced my hand over a chunk of amethyst on the table.

  “Our shops are just so different,” I said, unable to drop it for some reason.

  “Which is why they work. They are complementary to each other,” Luna began, sighing as she put the receipts down and waited for me to finish, knowing that I would keep interrupting her math until I got it out.

  I shrugged, and picked up a small citrine crystal and held it to the light.

  “I know. I guess sometimes I just feel like I'm dragging you down. You've got all this beauty and light over here,” I said, gesturing with the citrine, “and I'm all dark and crushed velvet over there.”

  Luna crossed her arms and studied me more carefully.

  “What's really bothering you? This has never been an issue before.”

  “Nothing, I don't know, I…” I shrugged and put the citrine down, unsure why I was feeling insecure, unsure of where these emotions were bubbling up from.

  “Althea. We can't be the same. We should never be the same. It isn't light and dark. It's just that our powers and our very essences are so different. This…” Luna swept her arm out to the shop, “would be nothing without you. You are one of the top psychics in the country. You bring in as much business as my light working and potions do. And don't even get me started on your beautiful art,” Luna said, gesturing to where my underwater photographs lined her walls. “We're a team. And in more than just business. This isn't like you at all to question that,” Luna said, her head tilted, receipts forgotten as she studied me. I could feel her mental probe as she tried to get a reading on my feelings.

  “I'm worried,” I blurted out and then stopped, wracking my brain for why.

  “Why?” Luna crossed her arms and watched me, taking my concerns seriously.

  “I don't know. I've been anxious all day. But when I try to get a grasp on what or why…” I spread my hands in front of me and raised my shoulders, “nothing. I see a gray mist of nothing. I don't know what that means.”

  Luna came around the counter and began to pace her shop, mimicking my moves from a few moments before.

  “That's highly unusual. Now I'm worried. Can we call Abigail?”

  Abigail Rose is my mother, one of the most sought after psychics in the world, and currently tucked away in Greece doing a reading for a dignitary. Or was it a movie star? I could never remember.

  “You know how they are when they travel,” I
said, thinking with love of my parents.

  “Yes, completely off the radar,” Luna murmured, wrapping a strand of her hair around her finger and tugging it.

  “I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe just that time of the month.” I shrugged, wanting the conversation to be over.

  “Nice try, Althea, but I know you,” Luna said, picking up the receipts again. “Let's meet at Lucky's in an hour. It'll give you time to feed Hank.”

  Hank, my parents' Boston terrier, had become a fixture in my home as they traveled the world.

  “Yeah, he's probably getting antsy by now. I'll give him a quick run and then meet you over there. Um…just call me when you leave here, okay?”

  Luna paused.

  “Now you really have me worried.”

  “It's fine. I swear it's fine. But until I know why I'm feeling this way…just…put your protection spells up. And carry your knife,” I said, reluctant to leave.

  “Great, Althea. Now I'll never finish these receipts. You know what? I'll count them tomorrow. You can bike me past my place. Okay with you?”

  I blew out a breath and nodded, feeling the tension in my shoulders relax.

  I held up the citrine again before slipping it into my purse.

  “Add this to my tab.”

  The Althea Rose Mystery Series

  One Tequila

  Tequila for Two

  Tequila Will Kill Ya

  Three Tequilas

  Tequila Shots & Valentine Knots

  Tequila Four

  A Fifth of Tequila

  The Mystic Cove Series

  Wild Irish Roots (Novella, Prequel)

  Wild Irish Heart