“Is Ophelia in?” I asked Ricky.
He waved toward the back room. “She’s in charge of food this week.”
I grimaced, because in our family Glenda was the only one to inherit the gourmet gene. Cassie was a decent cook if it was something simple. Bronwyn had one or two staples she’d managed to get down pat. Adrienne could pretty much only make pie. The rest of us relied on packaged food and carry-out.
“So, what’s on the menu for tonight then?” I shot him a sympathetic glance.
“Boxed macaroni and cheese. I think she’s going to put bacon in it. Last night was tuna casserole.”
“Also out of a box?”
He nodded. “That’s Ophelia. Thursday was chili out of a can, so we’re stepping up in the world tonight.”
I looked through the firehouse to the back room. “Why’s she in the kitchen now? It’s not even noon. It can’t take even Ophelia five hours to cook bacon and boil water for macaroni.”
“Dishes from breakfast,” he told me. “She made pancakes. The kind that come in a bottle where you just add water and shake it up, then pour it onto a griddle. At least the coffee wasn’t instant.”
We could all manage coffee, thankfully. “Too bad Nash can’t cater your food. He’s working at the diner, you know.”
Ricky chuckled. “Nash’s job right now is cutting vegetables and flipping burgers. I’m not sure a reaper’s culinary skills are much better than your sister’s. Next week it’s Brandy’s turn, so we’ll just have to hang on until then and try not to starve to death.”
The sylph was vegan, but she was a darned good cook. And I knew she tried to prepare food that appealed to her meat-loving coworkers. Last time I’d stopped by, she’d made some eggplant dish that was one of the best things I’d ever eaten outside of Glenda’s cooking.
I headed in through the firehouse and found Ophelia in the kitchen, drying a pan. Her smile when she saw me lit up her face. She stuck the pan in a cabinet, then came over and gave me a hug. “What’s up, Syl?”
For some reason, I felt overcome with emotion and hugged her tight, blinking back tears. “I just wanted to see you. Bounce a few things off you. Maybe see if you had any insight into a few issues I’m dealing with.”
She gently disengaged from my hug, her eyes searching mine. “Everything okay? You’re feeling all right? Not pushing it too hard so soon after your accident, are you?”
I’d hid my lingering exhaustion and fears from Cassie and the others, but not Ophelia. There were few things I could ever hide from my twin.
“I’m tired but getting stronger each day. Glenda’s smoothies are helping, and honestly I think it’s good for me to get back to work and be in my own house and bed again.” I headed over to the long table where the firehouse staff ate and sat down, Ophelia taking a seat by my side. “I’m struggling with my magic though,” I confessed. “And I don’t feel…well, as lucky as I normally feel.”
Ophelia ran a hand down my arm and gripped my fingers in hers. “It’s only been two weeks. You almost died. Give it some time and everything will be back to normal.”
“I did die,” I shot back, then gave my sister an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s just that I’m frustrated and scared. What if being dead did something to my magic? What if I’m always tired and weak, and I’ve permanently damaged something in my abilities?”
“You want me to do a reading? Scry? Is that what you came to ask me?” Ophelia gently prodded. “You know my divinations aren’t always clear, but I can try to see what the future holds for you.”
I nodded. “There’s a lot going on, and I’m feeling like someone stuck me in a dryer and turned it on high. The accident. My physical health. My magic. And then there’s this thing with the werewolves. I told Cassie that I want to mediate the meeting on Monday to try to see if I can get them to come to an agreement without us witches needing to play the heavy. Then there’s…” I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to admit that I was considering a fling with Eshu or not. At twenty-nine, I felt like I shouldn’t be contemplating what would basically be a hook-up and talking it up with my twin. Plus, I knew Lucien wasn’t a fan of Eshu, and thus neither was Cassie. Ophelia had never met him, but I was sure her opinion would be colored by whatever Cassie had told her over the last few weeks.
I didn’t want to face her incredulous comments about my thinking of having a fling with a demon that everyone thought was a frivolous screw-up. If I did decide to go there, it would probably end up being just a one-night stand. No need for anyone to know about it. No need for Ophelia to know about it.
Yes, the therapist in me was shaking her head that I was thinking of having a sexual relationship, no matter how brief, with someone that I would be too ashamed to admit having slept with. That was all sorts of wrong, but I had far too many issues going on right now to go into a deep self-analysis on why I was attracted to someone who my family would most certainly not approve of, and why at almost thirty I didn’t have the courage to do what I wanted without worrying about my family’s opinions on the matter.
“My health, my magic, and the werewolf issue,” I repeated. “That’s what I need a divination on.”
Ophelia gave me an odd look, then got up and made me a cup of coffee, adding a little dash of milk, just as I liked.
“Reading tea leaves now?” I joked. “Or coffee grounds?”
“Nope. Just getting you settled in and relaxed while I get my cards.” She slid the coffee across the table to me. “Drink. I’ll be back in a second.”
I leaned back in the chair, cradling my coffee in my hands. The firehouse kitchen was cheery, the walls painted a light blue, the cabinetry a glossy white. The appliances were stainless steel, and someone had purchased towels and dishes in blue jewel tones that tied everything together in a calming palette straight out of a decorating magazine. I breathed deep, exhaling through my mouth and taking the occasional sip of coffee. By the time Ophelia returned, I felt more centered than I had in weeks.
“That’s better.” She smiled and sat across from me, shuffling her deck of cards and handing them to me. I divided them into three piles. With a steady breath, I turned over the first card.
The Tower. I grimaced because this wasn’t my first rodeo when it came to Ophelia’s divinations. I knew this card and I knew what it meant. The only good thing was it was in the past position of my reading and not the present or the future.
“Past events that are still affecting you. These things could be holding you back or providing a foundation that your future will be built upon.”
“Destruction. Chaos. Massive unexpected change.” I reached out a finger to touch the image of a lightning-shattered building, two people falling headfirst from the heights. It wasn’t lost on me that the very force of nature destroying the tower on the card was what had killed me two weeks ago.
“That’s the obvious interpretation,” Ophelia told me. “That your electrocution has been a dramatic and chaotic change in your life and that it’s affecting both your present and your future. But there’s always more to a reading than what’s at face value. The tower falls not just because of the lightning strike, but because it’s built on an unstable ground of false truths and illusions. The lightning serves as a bolt of insight. It levels the tower and provides the space for a stronger and more stable growth. As traumatic as this change is, it creates an environment for equally dramatic development.”
I nodded, understanding what Ophelia was saying, but not sure how my death two weeks ago would lead to something positive. For Ophelia, maybe. My accident had brought Nash fully into her life in a way that he never would have been able to be before. But a clearing to prepare for growth? I just didn’t see that, especially since I was still feeling weak and my magic wasn’t working as it had been before I’d died microwaving hot fudge.
“You have to surrender to this, Sylvie,” she told me. “No matter how hard it is, no matter how impatient you are for things to return to the way they were before, you need
to let it all be. You need to be prepared to accept a new reality and build your life on new foundations, not old ones.”
I sucked in a breath, not liking that one bit. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before the accident. I wanted to not feel like I needed two naps a day. I wanted to have my powers back, to win raffles, and always find a good parking spot at the mall and manage to arrive at the post office right before they closed. I didn’t want my world to change. I wanted it to stay the same. And from all the clients I’d counseled in my life, I knew how sometimes that just didn’t happen.
With barely concealed anxiety, I turned over the next card.
The Fool.
“Beginnings. New opportunities. You’re at a point where you need to follow your heart, to put aside anxious thoughts and both commit and walk forward in faith.”
Ophelia’s voice faded into the background as I stared at the card. I knew what the Fool signified but looking at the cheerful man with his little white dog and his knapsack over his shoulder, with his one foot poised to step over a cliff—looking at that card, all I saw was Eshu.
He was the embodiment of The Fool—a being that lived strictly by intuition, that enjoyed and relished every moment of life. He was someone who took life’s bumps and treated them as if they were a thrill-ride, a rollercoaster. My present card might have signified new beginnings as far as Ophelia’s interpretation was concerned, but I knew that this card meant that whatever my future held, Eshu in my present was instrumental in bringing that future to fruition.
My hand hovered over the third card—my future card—and I hesitated.
“This is the outcome of your present. It’s what the clearing of your past and the new beginning of your current state will bring about,” Ophelia told me.
Still I hesitated. “I’m hoping it’s not the Death card. I’ve had enough of that to last me for five or six decades.”
“The Death card doesn’t mean actual death,” Ophelia scolded. “It’s a card about transformation. It’s about shedding your past life for a new life. Given what happened, I think it would be logical for you to draw that card.”
Maybe in the past. Or in the present. I didn’t want death in my future, even if it was about transformation and new life. I was done with that shit. Right now, I wanted the calm comforting familiarity of my old life, my routines, and daily habits.
Exhaling, I turned over the card. And blinked.
“Oh, that’s an excellent omen, Sylvie! Your future is all about finding balance within yourself. You might be uncertain about a direction you might take but trust yourself to make the correct decision. Sometimes the difficult path is the right one, so choose with your heart and you’ll find your joy.”
I was only half listening to her reading because I was busy staring at the card and making my own interpretation of its meaning.
The Lovers. Kindred spirits. Soulmates. Romance, passion, an intense bond with deep connection. That all sounded awesome, especially to a woman whose romances to date had been best summed up by the word “meh.” I couldn’t see all that in my near future, but I could see some of it.
Passion. Lovers. The moment I’d turned the card over, my thoughts immediately went to Eshu. I was attracted to him and more than just physically. He was fun, exciting. Everything inside me came alive when I saw him. For two weeks, I’d been wondering if sex with him would be as electrifying and entertaining as just being near him. I knew he would be up for that sort of thing, but I’d held back, fearing I would end up far too attached while he remained The Fool, the fun and frivolous guy who never thought past the next day.
Maybe it was time for me to take a chance. Maybe I needed to go down the difficult but ultimately rewarding path and screw this demon’s brains out. I’d died. Surely that meant I had full karmic permission for some amazing no-strings-attached sex.
And maybe, just maybe, I was wrong about Eshu and he wasn’t as frivolous as I’d assumed.
“You okay, Sylvie?”
I looked up to see my twin regarding me with a concerned frowny-face.
“Ophelia? Have you ever said, ‘screw it’ and had sex with someone who was so very wrong, but who you knew would be an absolute amazingly fun lay?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You mean like doing it with a reaper less than twenty-four hours after your twin sister nearly died? A reaper you pretty much just met? One who killed your basil plant and spent the night on your couch watching infomercials and porn?”
I laughed. “Point taken, but at least you knew Nash loved you. He saved me. As long as you were willing, he was going to be right there by your side forever. He wasn’t some crazy silly make-you-laugh playboy who might be gone the next morning without even a thank you.”
Ophelia sucked in a breath. “Oh, God. Please tell me you’re not thinking of sleeping with Marcus?”
“No!” I actually recoiled at the suggestion. Cassie’s ex was a panther shifter, totally hot and totally unfaithful. Yes, he’d hit on all of us, and yes, we’d all turned him down even after they’d broken up.
Ophelia peered at me, and I could tell by the odd haze over her eyes that she was using her magic. “Seriously? Not that idiot demon that Cassie and Lucien complain about all the time.”
“He’s not an idiot,” I protested. “Have you seen him? He’s totally hot, and he makes me laugh. Don’t I deserve a little fun?”
Ophelia held up her hands. “Of course you do. It’s just that Cassie says Lucien hates him, and she doesn’t seem to think very highly of him, either. You’ve had a really rough couple of weeks, Sylvie. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”
I rolled my eyes. “First, Lucien hates Hadur as well, and everyone told him to just deal when Bronwyn brought him home. As I remember, he wasn’t too fond of Nash, either. His opinion shouldn’t weigh too heavily in my choices of a romantic partner, in my opinion. Secondly, weren’t you just doing a reading for me, telling me to take the path my heart wanted, and that although it might be a difficult path, it was the right one?”
My sister stared at me for a moment, then laughed. “Okay. You’re right. Screw the hot playboy demon and have an absolute blast doing it. Please know that I’m here with ice cream, wine, and boxes of tissues if it all falls apart.”
I knew she would be—all my sisters would be, but especially my twin Ophelia.
“Is that a vision? The falling apart thing? Or just you worrying over me in a similar but different way than Cassie worries over all of us?”
My twin grinned. “The latter. I’ve got no idea where this thing is going. My love-dar doesn’t seem to be working right now, so I can’t give you my magical intuition about it all. But I’ve seen how things go with these fun-frivolous guys, and I know you, Sylvie. I know you love guys who are little boys at heart, who make you laugh. I also know that those guys have never stuck around the way you’ve wanted them to. I worry this is going to end up the same.”
She was probably right, but at this time in my life, I needed to laugh, to forget about my death and the shit-show that was the werewolf issue in our town. And I needed some crazy, fun sex to lift my spirits. Eshu offered both, and I was really wanting to take him up on that offer. I was going to do it. The next time I saw him, whether it was in two days, two weeks, or two months, I was going to get that demon into my bed.
I thought of the reading, then I thought of what I did in my therapy practice. Maybe Ophelia and I weren’t so different after all. Twins.
I thanked Ophelia, gave her a hug, and walked through town to my house. Back home I took a nap, then, feeling a bit more energized, I sat down to work on luck charms to give a little help to the mediation on Monday.
There’d been a few months when I’d been all about four leaf clovers cast in resin, or dyed rabbits’ feet keychains that I used to buy online in bulk. I’d gone through a phase where I learned metal casting and made coins to use as my charms.
Lately I’d been into buttons. I haunted online yard s
ales and flea markets where people were trying to unload cigar boxes full of buttons that they’d found after their grandmother or aunt had died. There was something magical about running my fingers through all the different sizes and colors and selecting the ones I wanted. The luck charms I was going to work on were to be for the mediation between Dallas and Clinton, so I searched my boxes of buttons for ones that inspired understanding, affection, and a sense of calm. I intended on putting these charms at the four corners of the room, suffusing the whole area with my magic rather than targeting the individuals.
Plastic buttons with four holes called to me. I selected six for each charm in shades of blue and green, adding a yellow button at the end to inspire creative solutions. Then I strung them onto fine wool yarn, chanting as I worked. When they were completed, I surveyed my handiwork, pleased at the result. They were perfect in every way except for one—they lacked power.
As they were, someone would practically have to hang them from their forehead to get even a minimal bit of the desired result. They needed to be energized with my magic, but that was something I’d lacked since my death. I was exhausted just from putting the charms together, and I knew I was magically tapped out. Was this the way it would always be? I had the skill, the talent, but not the strength to really work my magic? I looked over at a handful of charms I’d been working on last month. They were faded, almost spent. But even month--old charms had more power to them then these ones I’d just made.
What would I do if this was my new normal? My clients relied on my charms to come and go discreetly. What if I could no longer provide that? I was sure some of my clients would stop coming to therapy rather than risk being seen.
And what would I be without my magic? I was still a witch, but I’d be useless. My powers would be so faint that they’d not be of value at all.
It scared me. Setting the charms aside, I packed up my supplies and decided to put the issue in the back of my mind and enjoy myself tonight. It had been weeks since my friends and I had our last game, and I missed it. I wanted to just have fun, eat pizza, hang out with everyone, and worry about my magic later. I’d try to power the charms again tomorrow morning, and if I still couldn’t manage, then I’d need to talk to my sisters.
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