by Noree Cosper
Her gaze met mine with a deep frown before looking back down at the card. This one I knew personally, though the picture was unique. A woman with hair blacker than a starless night and goat legs perched on a pillar. Her breasts were bare and bat-like wings spread out behind her. In her hand, she held two chains connected to a man and a woman. I shivered at the purple flames in her eyes as she stared up at me with pouty, sensual lips. Lucy had drawn this card on the first reading she ever gave me. It spooked her enough that she refused to do another.
“A lot of fortune tellers say this represents the base desires we must break away from,” Lucy said.
“But?” Marge asked.
“But we are all hunters here. I think we all know that real evil affects our lives. I’m getting a feeling that this represents that more than anything else.”
“Right, so what does that mean?”
“This demon is going to do everything in its power to stop you.”
The next card was a picture of a skyscraper with a cloudy night sky behind it. Flames leapt up from the base of the building and lightning struck the top.
“We are still dealing with your past. This time it’s the distant past,” Lucy said. “The Tower represents a time of turmoil. Your father’s abuse and what your mother did puts us in this situation.”
Marge’s eyes narrowed at her. “How the hell do you know that?”
“It’s my job to know such things.”
“Bullshit. You’re just some party bimbo who thinks she can see the future.”
Lucy chuckled and raised her hands. “You’re still sitting here. Where else do you have to go?”
Marge clamped her mouth shut and glared down at the table. Lucy turned over the fourth card. A young man with red brown hair held a wooden staff. His face held a youthful mischievousness.
“The Page of Wands,” Lucy said. “This is what is in your recent past and how it influences you now. I would say that meeting the Van Helsing brothers and Gabby will bring you closer to your goal. It already has, right?”
“This isn’t shit I don’t know,” Marge snapped.
“Listen, the first of these cards set up your question. Besides, I get the feeling that your demon is deeply connected to Gabby and the boys.”
Connected to me? How was that even possible? It wasn’t like I knew every demon in Hell. The only one I knew that would be connected to me and the Van Helsings was Ose, but he was dead. As far as I knew, the few lackeys he had were with him in Texas, and they had perished by the edge of my sword.
“Let’s continue,” Lucy said, cutting me off as I opened my mouth.
Marge rolled her eyes, but this time she kept control of her tongue. Lucy flipped the next card. A female angel wearing a golden helmet held a trumpet to her lips.
“Judgment,” Lucy said. “Which is apt because that is what you want, freedom from not only the bonds holding you but from your past. The problem is we can never be truly rid of our past. It shapes us.”
The sixth card was of five people: a woman with dark hair, a woman with strawberry blonde hair, and three men with cinnamon colored hair. They held staffs which crossed in the middle of the picture.
“This card is what the future holds in store for you. The Five of Wands shows there’s going to be a lot of conflict. I see several different entities in competition with one another.”
“Like others after my demon?” Marge said.
“Or others demons that want you.”
“I’m getting tired of all the possibilities.”
Lucy shook her head and moved to the next card. It depicted a woman in a chariot driven by two lions. Her blonde hair whipped out behind her. A crazed look filled her face.
“The Chariot. You want this badly, but you need to be careful your ambition doesn’t impede you.”
“My ambition is to kill this demon. How the hell am I going to fuck that up?”
“You’re so busy thinking about killing, you will miss the clues around you. Like this reading.”
“I haven’t seen shit useful in this.”
Lucy folded her hands in her lap. “If you’re going to act like this, we might as well stop now.”
“You have three cards left,” I said. “What could it hurt to finish it? Less time than wandering the streets.”
Marge grumbled. “Fine.”
The eighth card was a man with a reddish brown beard and an eye patch over one eye. He wore a dark, hooded robe. Goose bumps rose over my arms as I stared at the card.
“Lucy, what were you thinking when you drew these?” I asked.
She smiled mysteriously and turned back to Marge. “The Hermit. You also try to keep yourself apart from those who can help you. Remember your cause is their cause.”
She turned over the next card and stared at it intently. It was of a wheel divided into quarters. Ringed around it in two circles were the same angelic and demonic symbols as on the backs of the cards. It was reversed.
“There are situations in your life that are coming to a close. I see major changes coming, and not all of them in you favor. Remember that you have weathered other storms, you can weather this one,” she said.
“What events?” Marge asked.
Lucy just shook her head. “I’m uncertain exactly what, dearie, but they are major.”
The last card was of a tall figure in a black cloak holding a scythe. On the scythe was one of the angelic symbols. It looked like an hour glass with two sickles extended from the middle on each side. One skeletal wing extended from the figure while a white, feathered wing curled behind him.
“Death,” Lucy whispered. ”Whether you fail or succeed, you’re in for a transformation, and it’s going to be a difficult one.”
Marge stood up. “What kind of bullshit was that? How was that supposed to help?”
“It’s supposed to give your insight on what you are up against and what you have aiding you,” I said. This was turning out to be a mistake.
“How about giving me a straight answer?”
“Fortune telling is rarely straightforward,” Lucy said. “From what I read, your best bet to your demon is connected with Gabby and possibly the Van Helsings. From what Gabby has told me, it probably has something to do with how you met.”
“Ose?” Marge frowned. “He didn’t have anything to do with my contract.”
“But you were still there.”
“I was chasing down a lead from that biker gang. A lot of good it did,” Marge muttered. “They didn’t give me shit useful.”
“But you met Gabby and the Van Helsings. Even though you were chasing different demons, or a devil in Gabby’s case, you still ended in the same town.” Lucy looked at me. “Why don’t I do a reading for you to see if we can get a clearer picture?”
My eyebrows rose. This was a change. “You’re sure?”
“It’s been years. I think I’m better. Besides, these are my special cards.”
I took Marge’s place as Lucy shifted the cards. Marge paced behind us, muttering to herself. This time, Lucy laid out the cards in a horseshoe pattern from left to right. She flipped over the first card, and a shiver ran through me. The Devil. The image forever haunted me. She frowned at the picture and shook her head.
“Your past. Brought upon by evil,” Lucy said.
“Allegra,” I said.
“Maybe, there are a lot of others. You’ve led a life of bloodshed. It still drives you.”
“How much of that is from the card.”
She chuckled. “I know you. Part of my job is reading the people as well as the cards.”
She flipped the next card. It depicted a sword surrounded by rays of light. It was reversed.
“This is your present. The Ace of Swords,” she said. “There are a lot of illusions surrounding those around you. You’re being played.”
The next card depicted a dark-haired man on a throne with a sword in his hand. His face was blurred that I couldn’t quite see the features.
“King of s
words,” Lucy said. “There appears to be a strong forceful man in your life. The two of you may be at odds, but he could be a foundation for you.”
An image of John came as did, strangely, Adrian. “Great. Which one?”
Lucy laughed as she turned over the next card. A werewolf in a half-man, half-wolf form howled at the giant moon in the sky.
“The Moon,” she said. “Your situation is steeped in deception. This is the second card that has talked about trickery in this reading. You need to be careful. Nothing is as simple as it seems.”
The fifth card was of a dark-haired woman crowned with stars and seated on a throne, holding a scepter.
“The Empress,” Lucy said. “Others are going to look to you for guidance on this.”
She flipped the next card. A holy woman in robes sat holding a scroll. A pair of ghostly white wings floated behind her.
“The High Priestess.” Lucy’s hand hovered over the card. “Have you had any dreams recently? Different from usual?”
I bit my lip as my child’s screams and Allegra’s laugh echoed in my head. My dreams never really changed. Almost every night, I saw my husband’s and child’s death at the hands of the demon who cursed me. I shook my head.
“Well, you may start. Pay attention to them. They are going to reveal something necessary.”
The last card was Death.
“Again,” Lucy whispered.
“So, I’m going to die again,” I said.
Lucy shook her head. “No, maybe. Death represents a major change. The status quo is about to break.”
I rested my hand on my chin, frowning down at the card. “What is that symbol?”
She peered at it. “That’s a representation of Sariel, the Archangel of Death.”
Marge turned back to us with her arms crossed. “Great, but what did any of that have to do with my reading?”
I stood and stretched. “I think we’re going to have to figure that out ourselves.”
“Again. What was the point?”
“Insight,” I said. “We have a few more clues.”
“No, we have a whole bunch of vague bullshit.” Marge threw her hands up. “How did this get us any closer to finding out the name of the demon or where it is?”
“It was more preliminary,” Lucy said. “However, with your attitude, I’m not sure I want to go ahead with the ritual planned.”
A shiver ran up my spine. There was only one ritual that I knew of that Lucy would use. “That’s highly dangerous. Lucy, it could hurt even you.”
“Which is why I’m not going to risk it if all she’s going to do is rant like a spoiled brat.”
Marge’s fist clenched. “You’re one to talk. I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“The Ritual of Delphi will allow Lucy to be an Oracle for a brief time. She can answer three questions you have. But you can only have the ritual performed for you once. Ever.”
I knew from experience. I’d had my own moment in front of the Oracle. With her help, Dimitri and I had found Allegra. Unfortunately, I’d failed to kill her, and Dimitri had been injured. I sighed.
“So, I can ask anything, and I won’t get this vague bullshit?” Marge asked.
“It won’t be like the Tarot cards. Though some of the other things she says may be a little weird,” I said.
“This is what I came here for.”
Lucy crossed her arms and sucked the inside of her cheek. “All right, but after this I don’t want to hear anymore bitching.”
“If I get the name of my demon, sure.”
Lucy turned toward the bedroom. “I need to get the supplies. Move the tables and couches. We need all the room we can get. And someone turn off the smoke detectors.”
Now was the first and probably only chance I had to talk to Lucy alone. I followed her into the bedroom and shut the door behind me. I turned the volume up on the television. She glanced at me as she dug through her suitcase and pulled out a small plastic bag filled with black rocks.
“You need to tell the van Helsing brothers you’re a nephilim.”
Chapter 4
Lucy scrunched her nose; her eyes filled with confusion. “Why would I need to, dearie?”
“Esais came across a nephilim last night. It’s only a matter of time until he knows,” I said.
Lucy pulled a large black bag on the bed and took out a stack of bronze braziers. “I don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”
“Your power isn’t the most inconspicuous. If you get injured once, they will know.”
She shrugged and set a large plastic bag filled with herbs on the bed. “So, I won’t get hurt.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Look, you really need to tell them. If they find out on their own, there will be conflict. I see a lot of arguing and pointing fingers. Adrian especially won’t like it.”
“It’ll be fine. You shouldn’t worry so much. I’ve known the boys their whole lives. We’re pretty much family.”
And I wasn’t. I was just a stranger who barged into their lives a few months ago. A relic from their family legacy. Still, I got to see the fallout from the brothers keeping secrets from one another. Adrian hadn’t known about Esais’s telepathy or Tres’s power to heal. To say he’d been a little upset when he did find out was an understatement. I sighed. Perhaps Lucy knew better, though. It was more her business than mine.
“Let’s concentrate on getting this ritual to work,” Lucy said.
“How many times have you been successful?” I asked.
“Including yours, once. I’m hoping for my second success tonight.”
I blinked at her. “Let’s not tell Marge we’re pinning all her hopes on a mostly untested ritual.”
She grinned at me. “Understood.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Take the braziers and set them up in a circle around the center of the room. Pour the herbs in each one.”
I carried the braziers into the living room. Marge crouched on the floor, gathering the stack tarot cards that must have fallen while I was in the room with Lucy. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line and she held one of them up. The front was white with a gray symbol painted on the background. A stick figure stood in the center holding a scepter. Long strands stream from under a crown on its head.
“Wasn’t this one of your cards?” she asked.
I took the card. Color began to fade in the background. The arms of the stick figure fleshed out. The skin turned a rosy peach and the hair thickened to black locks.
“Interesting,” I said.
“Is this some sort of sick prank with you two?”
“No. Lucy’s turned her deck into a talisman. It reacts to the person she is reading for.”
“Like those necklaces that you made for us in Texas?”
“Yes, but those protected us against Ose’s madness.” I handed the card back to her and placed the braziers on the floor in a circle. “A Talisman depends on your intent upon its creation.”
“What are those for?”
“The circle for the ritual. It’s to keep the power she’s manifested inside.”
Marge snorted. “Why? She’s just going to spout some mumbo jumbo.”
“It’s a little more than that. Lucy’s going to call on the power of Apollo. It should give her the ability to answer your questions.” That is, if Lucy could pull this off.
“And those bowls are supposed to help.”
I poured the herbs. “Braziers. And Lucy needs to empower it.”
“Why won’t it work like that binding circle you taught me to trap demons?”
I emptied the bag into the last of the braziers. “That was a symbol. The pattern and the writings powered the whole thing. At least enough to keep demons bound and powerless.”
Lucy stepped out of her bedroom, carrying a large box with a bowl balanced on top of it. She wore a red shawl draped around her shoulders. “Are we ready, dearie?”
“Yeah. I’m not here for a tea
party.”
Lucy set the chest in the middle of the circle I made and picked up the bowl. She pulled a knife from her belt and held both out to Marge. “I need some of your blood for this to work.”
“What?” Marge said the word like she wanted to hurt Lucy with it.
“It’s to attune the ritual to you. Otherwise it won’t work.”
“This better not be a curse.”
Lucy smiled. “Why would I need that? You’re already living on borrowed time.”
Marge let out a half growl. “How much?”
“Just a few drops.”
Marge raked her finger on the point of the blade and let the blood drip into the bowl. I handed her a handkerchief as she stepped back. Lucy took the bowl back to the chest and set it on the floor. I sighed, sat on the desk, and crossed my arms. There wasn’t much for me to do now but sit and watch. I had to be here just in case something went wrong.
Lucy pulled out two candles with holders, a long wooden stick, and a lighter. She placed her bowl and the two candles back on the chest and lit the stick. She lowered the stick to the brazier sitting in the East and lit the herbs inside. She followed the circle clockwise, chanting softly as she lit the rest of the herbs. Smoke rose from the braziers and intermingled, creating a hazy veil between Lucy and us. A musky scent filled the air.
For a moment, I closed my eyes and allowed my second sight to take over. The room became a misty gray. Mage sat on the pillow, her impatience and anticipation flaring. She wanted this so much that it buried the disbelief she had. I turned my gaze to the circle and saw nothing but a thick gray curtain. I blinked and let my vision return to normal. Lucy sat before her chest and lit the contents of the bowl in front of her. She raised the veil above her head and leaned over the bowl.
“The Arabian vapor rises toward Olympus,” she sang in a light, breezy voice. “The shrill rustling lotus murmurs its swelling song, and the golden kithara, the sweet-sounding kithara, answers the voice of men.”
She inhaled loudly, and her voice gained a slight burr to it. “And all the hosts of poets sing your glory, Apollo, famed for playing the kithara, son of Great Zeus. Beside this snow-crowned peak, oh you who reveal to all mortals the eternal and infallible oracles.”