Mirabelle leveled her gaze at me in an expression that felt distinctly like a mother’s reprimand. “And just like all those other times, you come here asking me to just tell you what to do. Just fix it. Poof.” She snapped her fingers.
“Well, no. I mean…” Clearly, I was being baited.
“Did you try using the stone again?” she asked.
“What stone?” Alex asked.
I looked away, thinking of the rock I’d buried very carefully in the bottom of my sock drawer at home.
Mirabelle sighed. “Being tuned in doesn’t mean you know everything,” Mirabelle said. “Just like saying you want something isn’t the same as being willing to do the work. Right, Sam?”
“Um.”
“Sam’s tuned in?” Alex asked.
“To the wrong station,” I muttered.
Mirabelle gave me a wry look. “Anytime you’re ready to listen, Sam, the universe is waiting to talk to you. The Epidote I gave you is proof of that. The Earth speaks to you through whatever medium it can get its hands on and the longer you ignore it, the louder it will get.”
“How do I make it stop?” I asked, earning another reproachful look.
“You can’t make it stop,” she said. “Only make sense. Your memories are still available to you and they are the key.”
I scowled and stared into my tea cup. “Every time you say that it sounds creepier and creepier.”
Throwing caution to the wind, I took a swig of my tea.
Alex turned back to Mirabelle but I could see the storm brewing behind his dark eyes. He was losing patience. “Pretend Sam wasn’t tuned in,” Alex said. “What would be next? What can we do to help?”
Mirabelle pursed her lips and leaned forward. “Keep tuning in to the station. She’ll get it when she needs to.”
Alex blew out a breath and for a split second, his tough guy mask fell away and his shoulders sagged and he looked utterly exhausted. “What about what I need?” he asked, desperation clearly visible.
Mirabelle only patted his hand. “Alex, you cannot do this for her.”
And just like that, the mask returned. I blinked, wondering if I’d imagined it. He was sick—like really, really sick. How had I not seen that?
Alex shook his head, frustration taking over again. “This isn’t a game. Sam was attacked last night—for the second time since I got here. Combine that with these weird handfuls of fur she keeps getting and… well, I don’t know but there’s got to be a connection.”
“What kind of connection?” I asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation.
He looked over at me and said, “I suspect you’re attracting them somehow.”
“Oh.” I stood up straighter. I hadn’t actually thought of that before.
Alex looked at Mirabelle and went on, “She’s agreed to do what it takes, but she also needs to protect herself. I can’t be there all the time. You claim she’s a healer with all the power she needs to heal herself—to remember and all that. What does she need to do in order to, I don’t know, activate it or whatever?”
Mirabelle got up and shuffled to her cabinet. She returned a moment later with a deck of cards. I watched while she unwrapped the plastic and tossed it into the trash before returning and cracking open the box.
“There’s a deck already open behind you,” Alex said, gesturing to the shelf.
Mirabelle waved a hand. “I know. I’ve been saving these for today.”
Alex watched her as she shuffled. “You knew we were coming?”
Mirabelle merely shrugged and continued shuffling.
“Why the new cards?” he asked which was probably the most answerable question.
“New cards are devoid of lingering energy. Unbiased. They must always tell us the truth about where we’re going and where we’ve been. The cards today will tell us your path. Individually, I’ve already done that for you, but since you’re here together, we’ll draw for that. For what comes.”
Mirabelle glanced at me and I shifted uneasily where I still stood leaning against the far doorframe. I remembered what Mirabelle had said during that last reading, how ominous it had felt, how confused and shaken she’d been about drawing those same cards over and over. Had that really been less than two weeks ago?
I hadn’t even let her explain the cards back then, but suddenly I did not want to turn any more of them over.
“Sshh,” Mirabelle said although I was pretty sure I hadn’t said anything aloud. Her brows drew down as she huddled over the table, cards in hand. Methodically, she shuffled and mixed them seven times. Then, slowly she spread them out in front of Alex. “Pick one,” she said to him. And then to me, “You pick two.”
“Mirabelle, I told you, I don’t believe—”
“You do. Or you wouldn’t be here. Pick two,” she said. Her interruption more than anything silenced me. She was right but also she was serious. In the year I’d known her, Mirabelle had never once interrupted me before.
Alex chose a card and Mirabelle set it aside face-down. Reluctantly, I stepped forward. Holding my tea in one hand, I picked out one card and then another, feeling silly at my choices. Was I supposed to feel something? An energy? Hear a voice telling me what to choose? I felt nothing. Heard no one. But I didn’t tell that to Mirabelle or Alex.
My cards were swooped away and the deck disappeared too leaving only the three cards in a tidy row face-down on the table between us. Mirabelle’s hand hovered over them, her brow even more furrowed and her lips pinched together. Finally, she moved the card Alex had chosen to the far left.
“Yes, that’s it,” she mumbled to herself. And then, “Alex. Your card first.”
Slowly, she turned over the first card. As soon as I saw it, I went still. Alex sat up straighter, his chair legs scraping the floor as he scooted in. He looked from the card to Mirabelle and it was clear it meant something to him. All I could think about was what it meant to me.
“Of course,” Mirabelle said, nodding like it was the answer to the Universe’s biggest question.
I looked back at the table and The Fool stared up at me.
Mirabelle’s fingers scooped at the corner of the second card. “Now Sam,” she said. I bit my lip as she turned it over.
“What the hell?” Alex demanded, voicing my exact sentiments aloud as we all stared down at The Magician.
I looked at him for a moment, confused over why he was so worked up. Had I told him about my reading? I found Mirabelle watching me and my pulse sped. She didn’t look surprised or put out. In fact, her smile was secret and satisfying. Two things that were scaring the hell out of me as a combination.
I took another sip of the tea. This time, more of a gulp. The contents settled warm and heavy in my stomach. Or maybe that was my growing sense of dread.
This right here was exactly why I didn’t believe in magic. Because it was never good news. Just once couldn’t I conjure fistfuls of twenties? Or pull a pint of Ben & Jerry’s out of thin air?
Mirabelle eyed Alex and then me. I looked away, pretending to be taken with the inside of my mug. Mirabelle undoubtedly knew better but I didn’t care.
Mirabelle took a deep breath and blew it out. “Here we go,” she chirped.
The last card was turned. Alex spit out his tea. I took a look at the card and even though I’d completely expected it, I still couldn’t believe it. “No,” I said, like that would be enough to negate actual reality.
“What the hell is this?” Alex asked quietly when he stopped coughing.
“You know these cards?” I asked.
Alex looked over at me and nodded sharply.
“How?” I asked, hating the growing pit in my stomach or that I already knew exactly what he was going to say.
“Because. These are the same cards Mirabelle drew for me in my reading. The cards that said I was sick. The cards that led me to you.”
“This is why I used a new deck,” Mirabelle said and for once, her tone was impossible to read. “But it’s no
t wrong. It’s unchanged and that can only make it more true.” She looked right at Alex and added, “One way or another, you will fall.”
“Bull shit,” Alex growled. “Do it again. Or scry or something.”
Mirabelle shook her head slowly. “I have. I’ve done it all and then some. Seeing is what I do. But no matter how often I try to read you two, the outcome is always the same. I can’t see past these cards.”
Alex stared bleakly down at the cards. Despair and fear braided themselves into my gut. I sank into the empty chair between them. Alex took my mug before it could spill. As soon as he did, I reached out and snatched the Death card. At the same time, Mirabelle grabbed my hand and an electric bolt shot through me.
“Oh!” I dropped the card and yanked my hands away, dazed. “What the heck was that?”
Mirabelle didn’t answer right away. I found her staring down at the cards, her lips moving soundlessly as if conversing with someone or something I couldn’t see.
I followed her gaze past The Fool and The Magician and stared at the card that was Death up until a moment ago. Only, now, the picture had changed.
“What the actual hell?” Alex muttered, leaning close to peer down at the new card. “Is that a real card?”
“None I’ve ever seen,” Mirabelle said.
My stomach flipped and I gasped.
A woman with long, dark hair dressed in a flowing, black gown stood tall and gazed up at a hawk perched in one hand. The bird was lifted high as if about to take flight. With her other hand, she patted the head of a wolf that sat at her feet. Its third eye looked up at the woman. The world stretched out behind them, far-off mountains rising into a cheerfully sunny sky. Every stroke of color was vibrant to the point of painful.
Alex was right. The card didn’t exist. The coloring was completely different than the rest of the deck Mirabelle had used. Hell, the coloring was different from reality. And to top it off, the woman looked a hell of a lot like me. I was very glad no one had pointed that out aloud.
“She looks like Sam,” Alex said.
Dammit.
I wrenched my gaze back to Mirabelle and found her watching me. Something about her expression—not to mention the unmistakable resemblance I had to the woman on this new card—finally made its way in past all my disbelief.
“Mirabelle,” I pleaded, suddenly overcome by it all. Tears sprang up, filling my eyes and spilling over onto my cheeks.
She shook her head like whatever I was about to ask, the answer was no. “This is your path,” she said softly. “You have the goddess inside you—a second spirit that werewolves and hunters alike must yield to. You are the goddesses incarnate. You have come to right the balance.”
Chapter Thirty
Sam
“I thought that’s what Hunters were here for,” Alex said, and there was no mistaking his skepticism. “You know, keeping the balance?”
Instead of responding, Mirabelle looked at me and held out her hand. When I offered her mine, she grabbed it and turned it palm-up in her own. She traced the largest line first and then the smaller ones with the tip of her finger. I shivered, a strange sort of awareness zinging through the lines she traced. It made me think of what Dave had described: the dark lines Bernard had worn; a map leading to his chest—decorated with my face.
I shuddered and tried to pull away but Mirabelle wasn’t done with me yet. “You have forgotten,” she murmured.
“Forgotten what?” I asked. Rhetorical question but I couldn’t help myself. Everything felt different now after that Tarot card had morphed into what was quite possibly me. I felt different. Maybe Mirabelle knew more than before.
“Everything. Magic. Energy. Who you are. Where you come from.” She looked up at me and her anger had turned to desperation. Passion. I’d never seen anything like it in her before. It made me want to figure out the answers just so I could help ease her.
“You must remember, Sam. You must find yourself. It’s the key.”
“How do I do that?” I asked, the urge to figure it all out suddenly belonging only to me. Finding myself sounded exactly right for … everything wrong.
“You must start by finding the energy. Find her. The Goddess. Then you will find you and with that will come the power to heal.”
“To heal Alex?” I asked.
Her gaze flicked to Alex. “Him. You. Them. Anyone. You must find the goddess inside you and to do that you must complete The Remembrance.”
“The remembrance? Is that like finding a memory?” I asked.
“It’s finding the Knowing. The place inside you that knows all the questions and the answers to them.”
“But how or where do I find it?” I asked, leaning in.
“It’s different for everyone.” Mirabelle shook her head and eased our joined hands back down to the table. For once, she looked just as frustrated as Alex. “I’ve been trying and … I can’t see for you. I’ve done drawing after drawing. Moon ceremonies. Meditations. Scrying. And I get nothing more than these three cards.” She gestured to the cards still laid out on the table. Now, technically four. “Well, and the stone, of course. Whatever is blocking you is blocking my sight of you.”
“Okay,” I said, more determined than ever to understand all of this. “Let’s start there. Tell me what the cards mean.”
Mirabelle paused. When Alex didn’t argue, she let go of me and turned her attention back to the cards. “All right. First is the Fool, which I suspect is Alex’s card.” Alex snorted. “Although not in the way you might think,” Mirabelle added. “It symbolizes endings and beginnings in the larger aspects of one’s life. Almost like death…and rebirth,” she said and Alex’s silence suddenly felt heavier.
“The Fool also portends important decisions ahead which will not be easy to make and involve an element of risk that is not what you might think,” Mirabelle said.
“Helpful,” Alex muttered.
“What about the Magician?” I asked, not wanting to continue down the road of whatever all that meant.
“The number of the Magician card is zero, also for new beginnings,” Mirabelle began. “It symbolizes the bridge between the world of the spirit and the world of humanity. See how he holds the staff?” She pointed. “He takes the power of the Universe and channels it through his own body, directing it to the physical plane. His table holds all four suits of the Tarot, representing the elements: air, fire, water, and earth.”
“Like a witch?” I said, regretting the words the moment they were out.
Mirabelle sat back and took a swig of Alex’s mostly untouched tea.
“Nice,” Alex muttered.
“Eh. I’ve been called worse,” Mirabelle said. “And yes, our culture attributes the use of these elements to witches. You can call it whatever you want. It’s the work of directing energy, nothing more. Very scientific and logical.”
“Okay, so if it’s all scientific and logical, what does the Death card mean, logically?” Alex asked.
I swallowed hard. Even the body high from the tea didn’t make it easier to consider the implications of that card.
“The Death card is actually the least threatening card when it’s upright. At that point, it symbolizes beginnings and transformation. The problem is that it was inverted before it….” Mirabelle tapped the corner of the new card with her finger thoughtfully.
“Which means?” Alex prompted.
Mirabelle blinked at him. “Right. So inverted, it means that you’re resistant to change. Stuck. Unable to move on.” She sighed. “That one is the problem, I think. For you both.”
“Even though it changed?” I asked.
“Yes, even with the woman in black…” Mirabelle traced the edge of the card thoughtfully. “With the hawk on her arm, symbolically, she has the power to set you free but… With the wolf at her ankles and the third eye and considering how it appeared here … there is still a lot at work here. A price to pay for being awake.”
Alex’s head shot up and he stared har
d at Mirabelle. Her words clearly meant something to him but he stayed quiet.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I’d rather not speculate on that yet,” Mirabelle said finally, biting her lip and exchanging a strange look with Alex before he looked away.
“So the only thing we can really use is the Death card which symbolizes being stuck,” I said.
“For now, yes,” she said.
Alex glared at the cards and then away, staring out the window in moody silence. He didn’t argue her point which made me wonder what he felt so stuck about.
I already knew my answers. In this case, knowing it didn’t help set me free.
Chapter Thirty-One
Alex
Edie answered on the first ring. I almost wished she hadn’t. Part of me wanted her to never answer her phone again. If she didn’t answer, I couldn’t tell her what I’d decided on back at Mirabelle’s before dropping Sam off at home.
“It’s time,” I said, skipping the pleasantries as I paced the living room. RJ had given up trying to calm me down with bland assurances and was in the kitchen trying to cook something. Probably eggs.
“What time is that?” Edie asked. There was a fair amount of background noise on her end but I tried to ignore it. Still, my heart was pounding.
I took a deep breath and said, “Time to bring in the rest of them. We can’t avoid it anymore. St. John needs to undo what he did.”
She paused and then suddenly the background noise quieted as she must have stepped into another room. “Tell me what happened,” she said.
Haltingly, I told her everything about Sam’s condition and all the things happening here. The sunlight waned around me. I continued to pace over the living room floor as shadows lengthened where I stepped. My voice grew hoarse as I told her about the Tarot reading Mirabelle had done earlier. The changing card.
I left out Mirabelle’s words still echoing in my mind: A price to pay.
“Mirabelle could be wrong,” she said when I was finished.
“Did you hear what I said?” I demanded, a little louder than I’d intended because panic was edging me toward admitting the only secret I still had left about Samantha Knight. But I wasn’t ready to share that one. Not today. Maybe not ever. “She gets handfuls of fur and then rabid werewolves show up trying to kill her.”
Remembrance: (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 1) Page 19
