by A. C. James
“What are your plans for the day?” he asked.
“I have to head over to the club. I’m supposed to help Victoria with the gala.”
“I don’t like you going there without me.”
“Why?”
“Holly, it’s hard enough to keep you alive but if you’re willing to throw yourself in harm’s way, I don’t know why I bother.”
I gulped. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be with Victoria.”
Arie sighed. “I’ll drop you off then. I have some things to do for Tessa. She’s put a deadline on finding Katarina. Or rather, the Legacy has put a deadline on finding Katarina. They want this resolved by the night of the gala. I’d like to find her before then and give her the opportunity to leave. Are you going to eat breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat, Holly.”
I ignored him and continued to drink my coffee. I knew he was scowling at me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. Finally, he took his coffee and walked out on the balcony. It seemed silly to disagree with him over something as insignificant as breakfast, but it made me smile anyway. Something about it seemed normal even if it was petty.
I curled up on the sofa with my coffee and a book. Hours passed and still he stood out in the cold. My feet had fallen asleep, curled underneath me as they were. So I stretched my legs before standing and headed to the kitchen. I nuked some bacon and threw slices of bread into the toaster. BLTs would be a quick lunch to assemble for a peace offering.
Without making a sound Arie entered from the balcony and when he seated himself on the barstool, I startled. I had my back to him while slicing the tomato and the knife slipped, cutting into my finger. Drops of blood oozed from the nick. Arie’s eyes darkened at the sight of my blood. I blinked and suddenly he was standing beside me.
“Here,” he said, taking my hand. He placed my finger to his lips, kissing the wound before sucking it. My intake of breath was sharp. Arie let my finger go and he bit his lower lip, drawing blood. “Kiss me.”
My mind stuttered like it always did when he looked at me. All I could think of was how hot his kisses made me, regardless of the blood dotting his lip. Standing on tip-toe, I touched my lips to his and he tangled his hand in my hair. The metallic taste on my tongue wasn’t as gross as I’d anticipated it would be. Feeling dizzy and breathless, I pulled away and when I looked down at my finger it had healed.
“You could have just given me a Band-Aid.”
Arie laughed. “What would be the fun in that?”
“Your blood healed me.”
“It can do more than that if we’re not careful.”
I nodded.
I finished putting together our sandwiches and we ate them. It seemed to make him happy that I ate. After lunch he drove me to the Hellfire Club and didn’t drive off until I’d walked inside. Victoria sat at the bar with her laptop open in front of her, and Luna, the moon faerie, sliced limes behind the bar, watching Victoria while she worked.
“Hey, Tessa told me to stop by and help you get ready for the gala.”
“I have to do an email blast and update the website. If you want to help, take these flyers and highlight the ticket price,” Victoria said, handing me a purple highlighter and a stack of papers.
I slid onto a bar stool and began marking the papers. The click-clack of Victoria’s fingers flying over the keys seemed impossibly fast. Her fingers moved in a blur. I couldn’t see how she needed my help, but I suspected that Tessa had given her the task of babysitting me.
The smell of heavy cologne made me lift my head. A man who looked like Tony Soprano walked across the black marble toward the three of us. Gray hair encircled his head, but other than that he could have been his older brother. He wore a collared shirt with black slacks molded to his hulking figure. Jesus hung from a gold cross around his neck; rubies marked the arms and feet of the cross in bloody symbolism. I blinked. A ball of red light seemed to flicker behind him, but it could have been my eyes playing tricks on me.
“Luna, I need to have a word with you in private.” Luna frowned at the man but she followed him out toward the lobby.
I turned toward Victoria. “Who is that?”
“That’s her father. He’s a fire faerie and founder of the Chicago Crew, mafia bootleggers dating back to 1910.”
I laughed. “You seriously expect me to believe that the mafia is controlled by a bunch of faeries?”
“No, not controlled by faeries. They are faeries. At least in this city.”
“And he lets his daughter work for Tessa?”
“I don’t think he has much choice in the matter.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know the whole story, but rumor has it there was a feud between the Crew and the regent in charge of the Hellfire Club back when bootleggers controlled the flow of alcohol. This place used to pass for a jazz club downstairs. Granted, it was still a sex club upstairs. I don’t know what started the feud but the Crew cut off the supply of alcohol. Her father used her as a bargaining chip when we retaliated and now she’s responsible for paying off her father’s debt.”
“These kinds of stories make me glad that I never met my father. But don’t you think she should be about done paying off his debts by now? That was a long time ago.”
“That’s not for me to decide, and besides, time passes differently for them.” Victoria shrugged.
“Well she didn’t look very happy to see him.”
“It’s none of my business,” Victoria said. “Are you about done with those?” She nodded toward the flyers.
I only had two more flyers to highlight. “Yeah.”
“Good. We have to take care of something. Set them on the table in the lobby when you’re done.”
“Sure. Victoria, can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“I noticed Luna has sliver beams trailing her and a ball of red light follows her father. I thought faeries would have wings.”
“Those are their wings. The light forms into wings only when they fly. I can’t believe you can see that; only the supernatural can see fae.”
I shrugged. “I’ve seen plenty, far more than I’ve wanted to.”
“Hmmm… Maybe because you’re clairvoyant.”
“Or maybe because I’m a witch.”
I’d been trying not to think about it because it was a lot to take in. I’d wanted to ask Arie what he knew about witches, but by the time he got home I was too exhausted to care about anything other than sleep.
“You’re a witch?”
I nodded. “Apparently.”
“Try being albino and a witch. They burn you at the stake for that one. Arie saved my life. They used to called me a phantom, a demon, evil,” Victoria said with a harsh laugh. “I’m more of a demon now than I ever was.”
A haunted look shimmered in her eyes. Something disturbed her and I felt bad for her. I understood better than anyone what it meant to be different.
“You’re not a demon.”
She looked away. “That doesn’t matter in minds filled with intolerance.”
“I think you’re nice.”
Victoria smiled. “You would have been burned at the stake too, you know. You’re way too pretty and you don’t hide your visions like you should.”
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose. “I’m not, but it’s nice of you to say.”
“I like you. I think we would have gotten along smashingly if I had met you in 1763.”
I laughed. “So what do we have to take care of?”
“Let’s just say it’s the spring cleaning of a century,” she said with a smirk.
I could only imagine.
***
We both stood there staring at Katarina’s picture for a long time. Victoria and I were standing in the living room of Arie’s old apartment. He told Victoria he wanted it to be donated to the Chicago Institute of Art and to handle the details. I guess he meant to get rid of it a long time ago but
hung on to it like he did the mounds of baggage that got in our way. Holding on to something that isn’t meant to be doesn’t make it any easier to let go. I figured that’s how we ended up with the job of donating the damn thing rather than him doing it himself.
I remembered a superstitious story that said if a dead person appeared to you in a dream or if a picture of the deceased falls off a wall, there will be a death of someone you know. As I looked at the painting it seemed like she was sneering at us. And I kept waiting for it to fall off the wall and then for me to drop dead. Victoria and I looked at one another as if to say, “You do it.” Our unspoken conversation made it clear that neither of us wanted to touch something that didn’t belong to us. I think we hold on to something so tight because we fear it won’t happen twice, or worse…we fear that it will, and history is destined to repeat itself.
Part of me felt a sick satisfaction that he wanted to get rid of the painting. Still, those moments that you wish you could erase and forget have a dangerous way of forcing themselves back into your life. Her outstretched hand appeared as if it would grab me by the shirt and pull me into the painting. She looked beautiful, like there was nothing wrong with her, and if I didn’t know better I would never know she was completely psychotic.
But growing up in the foster care system gave me a bird’s eye view of damaged. It didn’t matter to me how twisted someone was, as long as they were honest about it and had a fragment of sanity underneath the broken bits. With Katarina there was nothing left under the broken pieces.
“My car doesn’t have a backseat. You?” Victoria asked.
“We can take the BMW, but maybe we should wrap the painting in something first, like a sheet.”
“Hold on. I’ll get one from the spare linens in Tessa’s dungeon.”
Before I could say I would go with her, she was gone. The time-bending trick could be maddening at times and I didn’t want to be alone with the painting. In the logical part of my brain, I laughed at myself. Yet it didn’t seem silly in the eerie silence with Katarina staring at me. I could almost hear her menacing threat. Leave here. A chill ran through me and I jumped at the sound of the radiator letting out a loud whistle.
“Are you okay?” Victoria asked from the doorway, holding a sheet.
“I’m fine.”
“Let’s do this.” She grabbed the painting, lifted it off the wall, and wrapped it in the sheet.
“Do you think they’ll take the painting without us making arrangements ahead of time?”
“I think they’ll be grateful to procure something of this age and condition without having to pay a dime. But if they don’t I’ll just dazzle them into taking it or dump it on their doorstep.”
I felt like an idiot for even asking. We walked to my car and strapped Katarina into the backseat. Now I was glad to have suggested a sheet, if for no other reason than to keep from seeing her sneer in my rearview mirror as I drove. We passed the two lion statues flanking the main entrance to the museum on South Michigan Avenue. I pulled the BMW into an empty space down a few blocks and around the corner. Victoria exited the vehicle and eased the painting out of the backseat while I followed behind. Since we had to park so far away, I felt relieved that Victoria carried it.
The pair of us climbed the steps and crossed the threshold into the entrance hall. Victoria approached a man wearing a name badge.
“Sir, we’d like to donate this to the museum.”
He regarded the sheeted painting with suspicion. “Have you been in touch with someone regarding acquisitions?”
“No, but surely even if you don’t have room in your permanent collection, it can be auctioned off to raise funds at your next charity event,” Victoria said.
“What is that you have there? A painting?”
“Yes,” Victoria said, pulling off the sheet. “As you can see it’s in excellent condition.”
“Lady, I don’t know about these things. Just give me a minute.”
The man walked over to a desk and picked up a phone but I stood too far away to hear him. He hung up the phone, waving us over. I followed Victoria, who carried the painting.
“You’re not selling it, you don’t want anything for it?” he asked.
“No.” Victoria shook her head.
“Then we’ll take a look at it. If you wait here the director will be right down.”
“Keep it.” Victoria handed him the painting, turned on her heel, and headed for the entrance. I could barely keep up with her brisk pace.
The truth about being free doesn’t mean you stop caring about something. It only means you’ve finally let it go. I hoped that was what this meant—that Arie had finally let her go.
CHAPTER 19
I drove Victoria back over to the club and dropped her at the door. The colors and intensity of the light in the sky as the sun went down soothed me. Rue’s Attic might not be open. There were no hours listed on the business card she gave me, but I wanted to stop anyway. If I was being perfectly honest, shopping for the dress was just an excuse to see her again. Even though the idea of family felt foreign, I liked it, and I wanted to know about being a witch.
Through the glass a dim light shone toward the back of the store, but it didn’t appear to be open. Movement near one of the racks drew my attention. Rue was stooped next to a bin, re-stocking incense. Her mass of blonde hair spilled around her shoulders, hiding her face. I tapped on the glass door and her head popped up. A wide smile spread across her face. Rising slowly from her crouched position, she lumbered across the store and unlocked the door to let me in.
“Oh, come in, come in. I was just finishing up.”
She closed the door behind us and wrapped me in an enthusiastic hug. I couldn’t help but beam at her when she released me.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“In the back there’s another box. I left it on the table.”
I trudged through the store and passed through the curtain of beads, finding the box precisely where she said it would be. It wasn’t too heavy but Rue seemed to be moving slow. I brought the box up front and set it on the floor next to where she sat. Sitting Indian-style next to her, I opened the box, and we began filling the large tote with long rectangular boxes of incense.
“This incense smells divine,” I said, holding a pack under my nose as I took a whiff.
Rue smiled. “Take some home with you. It’s my gift.”
“Thank you… Rue, you said that I’m a witch. You’re one too.”
“What were you expecting, a pointy hat and a broomstick?”
I laughed. “Well no, it’s just a bit of a shock. But it certainly explains the clairvoyance and why I see things.”
“Not all witches are clairvoyant, dear.”
“Tell me what it’s like, what it means…”
“It’s really different for everyone.”
“How?”
“Some of us are good with herbs, some of us are good in the kitchen, and others are better with stones or energy or healing.”
“And I see things,” I said with a sigh.
“And you see things.” Rue put the last box of incense in the tote.
“Is there anything else you need help with?” I asked.
“No, I think I’m about done for tonight.” She grimaced and her crow’s feet crinkled as she pushed herself to standing with her hands on her knees.
“Are you all right?”
“It’s just my ACL—old sports injury. We’ve had so much rain lately. I can almost predict the weather better than our local news.”
I laughed. “Maybe I could make us some tea.”
“That would be wonderful. There’s still some in the kettle on the stove.”
We went to the back room and she sat at the table while I poured our tea. I brought the mugs over to the table, setting them on the tablecloth. The fragrant smell of herbs rose from the steaming mug. It warmed my hands as I held the cup, taking a sip.
“Thank you for helping me unpack that ca
rton of incense and for the tea. I’m so glad you stopped by.”
“I am too.”
“So to what do I owe this visit?” she asked with a smile.
“It doesn’t have to be tonight. You’re closed. And I don’t even know if you have anything appropriate. I have a gala to attend and I need something formal but Gothic.”
Rue frowned. “It’s a beautiful dress I saw you wearing in my vision. But do you really have to do this?”
“Something tells me I do. There’s someone after me, but at least this way I’ll be surrounded by those who can protect me.”
“What if they can’t?”
“I know it’s a risk, but you have to trust me.” Even if I wasn’t so sure I trusted that everything would work out, I kept my voice level to hide my uncertainty.
“And I know what I saw. You died.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.” Will you…? Will you really be fine? Still, Katarina had to be stopped, and it killed me to think that something might happen to Arie or any one of them if their world was discovered. I didn’t believe in fate being concrete or out of my control. I knew what could happen, but I also felt I had the power to change it. Visions were blurry places in space and time that only showed a very small part of a much bigger picture.
Rue sighed. “Then I guess we should see about getting you a dress.”
“Just something basic, something black.” And not too expensive.
“I have plenty of that, but nothing formal enough to suit this occasion.”
“Oh, I don’t care, a dress is a dress. It’s just one night.”
“Come with me.”
Rue pushed away from the table and walked to the kitchenette in the break room. She opened a cupboard and grabbed a container of salt from the shelf. I followed her through the beads, which clanked together. A good ten feet stood between the glass case which housed the cash register and the wall with the life-like tapestry.
We came to a stop in the space in between. Against the wall under the tapestry a small cabinet had a cloth that covered the top. It had a triple moon with a pentacle in the center of the full moon. Around the edges were endless Celtic knots, almost like my mother’s necklace. Two statutes, one masculine and one feminine, were positioned next to tall candles. In a circle were two small bowls, a candle, and a feather. A wine goblet stood on one side of the circle and an incense burner on the other.