Palm of Destiny (9 page)

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

“We should
not
be here. This was a stupid idea, Elijah.” Rosalie’s lips were pursed as she glared over at Elijah. They—well, Elijah—had broken into Morgan’s Magic Shop a little over a day since their insane teleportation trip. It was almost one in the morning, and the rain outside was pattering lightly on the pavement. Only Elijah was carrying a flashlight, both having decided that the smallest amount of light possible was the safest way to go about doing this.

As they moved together down the middle of the shop toward the desk and cash register, Elijah waved a hand at Rosalie in a ‘be quiet’ gesture. She shot him a second glare, but remained quiet as they closed the distance and finally arrived at the desk.

“You look in here,” he whispered, patting the top of the desk. “I’m going into that room he took us into when I got my cards read.”

“Wait,” she hissed. “How am I supposed to see?”

Not speaking, he pulled a small thumb-sized flashlight from one of his pockets and handed it to her. Before she could even open her mouth to protest, he was already moving, creeping quietly toward the room. When he got to it, he tested the doorknob. To his pleasant surprise, it turned under his hand. With a small smile of victory, he pushed the door open but didn’t go in. His flashlight danced along the floor and over the long table and chairs that filled the room.

The table was empty, smooth and clean, and the chairs were all tucked neatly under it. Barely breathing, he edged into the room, and then half turned back toward the door so that he could pull it closed behind him. As he let out a quiet sigh, he turned on the lights. A beautiful chandelier style light threw the room into brilliance.

“Whoa,” he whispered. Glancing down, he noticed the faint remnants of salt on the floor. There wasn’t enough to determine anything, but Elijah knew that salt was a popular ingredient in the use of magic both dark and light. “She really was right.”

* * * *

“This flashlight is so stupid. Why did he have to give me the one the size of his dick? It’s not like he has anything to prove anyway, I already know everything there is to know about him. Stupid bastard, I hate this….” Rosalie muttered and grumbled in low whispers and hisses.

She barely knew what she was saying, uttering words just to make herself feel more secure. Ever since the death of her father, her emotions had been so up and down and all over the place. At one point she had thought that she was going crazy, but after Angelique had been killed, it had driven a strange sort of clarity into her. She felt more stable emotionally, but now she was just…angry.

Teeth clenched, Rosalie continued to gripe while she used the tiny flashlight beam to search the little alcoves and drawers behind the desk. She found receipts, day books, notepads, pens, erasers, and all of those other usual things a shopkeeper had close to hand. As she was starting to open the bottom drawer, something jiggled inside. It sounded hard and maybe even metallic. Her eyes widening in interest, she crouched lower and pulled it all the way open.

There was nothing in it.

“What on earth…?” She shone the flashlight across the smooth wood of the inside of the drawer. With her other hand, she pushed on the wood, sliding her fingers over the surface. She felt all over the drawer, even on the outside of it, but she couldn’t figure out where the sound had come from. Then, as she was drawing her hand back from underneath the drawer, she felt something. It wasn’t much, just a slight bump.

For all she knew, it was nothing more than an imperfection in the wood; but she had to know. Dropping down to her knees, she pulled the drawer all the way out of the desk. She turned it over and laid it down on the floor. Leaning over it, she moved the light over the bump that she had felt and ran her fingers over it again. As she pressed, the bump gave way and several small cracks formed around it. With a quiet gasp, she pulled her hand away. When nothing else happened, she placed the flashlight between her teeth so that she could use both of her hands and started pulling the wood away.

“Rosalie, there’s nothing back in that room except for some salt.”

She let out a shriek, dropping the flashlight, then clapped one of her hands over her mouth and twisted herself around to face the owner of the voice. “Elijah!” She hissed. “Don’t
do
that, you scared me to death! And what about salt?”

“Sorry.” He frowned slightly, then gestured. “People who are into magic…witches or whatever you want to call them…use salt a lot in their rituals. It’s a cleansing ingredient.” He paused, his brow pinching together. “Er…what are you doing?”

When she felt like her heart wasn’t going to explode out of her chest, Rosalie swept some of her black hair away from her face and looked back to the overturned drawer and grabbed the little light from the floor. “I just found this bump underneath this drawer. Something was making a sound, but nothing was actually in it. I guess we’re about to find out what it is.”

I hope
, she thought.

Ignoring Elijah as he leaned over her, Rosalie continued to pull away the cracked pieces of wood. The more she pulled away, the lower her heart sank. And then, just when she was about to give up, something glistened. Gasping softly, she leaned closer and pulled more of the wood away. She was creating a small pile of dark chips beside her, but she didn’t care. Her only focus was on that glint. When enough had been pulled away, she was able to grab whatever it was between her thumb and index finger. With a few wiggles, it finally slid free.

It was a key.

“Why would he hide this in here?” As a pensive expression overtook her face, Elijah crouched down beside her and took the key. It was an old style key and looked older than Morgan’s shop. Covered in a thin layer of green, it was obviously copper, bronze, or some similar type of metal. “What do you think it opens?”

“I don’t know,” Elijah answered. “Maybe a box or safe of some kind, if it’s that important.”

“Maybe the pendant?” Rosalie’s brown eyes shone with hope. Then that hope dimmed, and she looked away from him. “Elijah…how are we supposed to figure any of this out? I mean, all of this started because of a vision. And you haven’t even told me all of it.”

A haunted look crossed his face, and he looked away from her. He shifted, swallowing the hard lump trying to form in his throat. “I know…but…” He chewed on his lower lip and shook his head. “We should go. Put the drawer back, and I’ll help you clean this up.”

“To my place?” she asked as she flipped the drawer back over. She didn’t try to push him, hoping that he would come around on his own. The lord knew she had pushed him enough as it was and she didn’t want him to break or shut her out; but he didn’t have anywhere else to go now.

When he didn’t answer her question, she glanced in his direction while she slid the drawer back into its proper place. He was busying himself with the wood chip clean up, putting it into one of his pockets rather than into the trash. That was smart, she decided. They didn’t want Morgan to know that they had been in here.

“Elijah?” Reaching over, she placed a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, your place is fine.”

“I’m…” She sighed because she didn’t normally stumble over her words. It was like they had switched places. “I’m really sorry about your place. And still really confused about how we got there from here…”

“I know, I am, too. But we’ll figure everything out. We have thus far.”

She took in a deep breath and nodded, trying to calm her nerves. “All right,” she said, letting out that breath. “My place it is.”

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

Morgan’s Magic Shop was always open at exactly 9 am on Mondays. It had been that way since he had started the business. He had never missed a day of work, not even when he had been so sick he could barely stand. Today, however, he hadn’t turned the Closed sign around to Open. The door was still locked. It was 9:03 am, Monday morning.

“Where is it? Damnit, where is it? Where, where, where?” Morgan was behind his desk. Papers were scattered all over the floor. Pens and pencils were everywhere. All the drawers from his desk had been removed and emptied. When he turned the bottom drawer over to get the key, he had found the hole. But there were no remnants of wood anywhere on the carpet. All Morgan knew was that someone had been in here.

Someone had taken the key he had hidden months ago when he’d first heard about the pendant. The box he had created for it couldn’t be picked or opened in any other way except for the key. Of course, the box now housed the pendant, which he wouldn’t be able open anymore.

“Shouldn’t have hidden it there,” he murmured.

After wiping his hands slowly down his face, he turned around to stare at the mess he had created. It took him only minutes to clean up. Several minutes more had him headed through one of the more private doors in his shop. His destination: A secret space he had created for the purpose of the amulet itself.

The room itself was an offshoot from the room where Elijah had had his tarot reading. Small and full of character, it pulsed with weird and unnatural energies. A brilliant ball of flames, hovering on its own, lit the room into brightness. Half-hidden in an alcove directly across from the doorway was a beautiful and ornately carved box. In the middle was a stone table with a beautiful silk sheet over it. Beneath that sheet was the shape of a body, feminine in form.

“You’re an idiot, Morgan. A spineless, pathetic ingrate who doesn’t deserve the position you have been ‘granted’.” The voice didn’t seem to come from anywhere. It filled the room and had no true direction. Each time that voice spoke, however, the flame ‘chandelier’ above the table shivered.

“Not an idiot.” Morgan glared at the motionless figure on the table. “I was unprepared for two incredibly resourceful—or lucky—individuals. I promised you, Sela, I would bring you back. And I will.” He moved over to the table, one of his hands reaching out to draw the sheet back. A woman’s face was revealed, porcelain smooth and paler than ivory. Her hair was deep auburn, drifting against her skin. Around her neck was a deep wound, crusty with dried blood and gore.

“When? Twenty years from now? You’ll be half-dead and I’ll be beautiful. I am in love with you, Morgan.” The voice reverberated throughout the room. “I want to be with you.”

“And you will be.” Leaning down, he placed a kiss against her forehead. “Need some more time, though, love. We’re almost there. Once I get the key back, it will all be perfect. It will work this time.” He smoothed back her hair, letting out a gentle sigh. The last time he had tried to resurrect her with the amulet—nearly a week ago now—nothing had happened. While neither of them had had any sort of understanding as to why, Morgan theorized that the moon needed to be full in order to trigger the magic of the amulet. It had been nearly full the last time he had tried; focusing on the cycles of the moon was the only thing that he had at this point.

“Be patient, love.” With a sigh, he drew the sheet back over her face. Then he turned and headed back for the main area of his shop. It was time to face the day.

* * * *

“Morgan, are you all right?” One of his more regular customers moved over to the desk. There was a frown on her lips, and concern made her eyes look more brown than hazel.

“Good morning, Katria. I’m all right, thank you for asking.”

“Okay. It’s just…“ She looked ready to turn away, but hesitated. “You’re never late opening this place up.”

“Always a first time for everything.” Morgan offered her a small smile.

“I suppose so. Though that’s twice now” She gave him one last worried glance before moving toward the stairs leading into the antique section.

Morgan tilted his head up and looked at the clock. It was just after 10 am, and he had opened the shop at 9:13 am. That was more than ten minutes late. As he looked down toward the lower drawer in his desk, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. The only thing he could think of was that Rosalie and Elijah had come here looking for the pendant. They seemed as determined to get it as he was to keep it. Then again, he couldn’t blame either of them.

“How did you know?” he asked himself.

* * * *

“After the explosion of light, there’s this weightlessness. Like…I’m floating. And it’s really bright all around me. I can’t tell if anyone else is there because there’s just so much light. I’m looking around, and the light starts getting darker. Pretty soon it’s all gone, and I’m surrounded by darkness. Then I see these figures coming toward me. They’re all hunched and grotesque looking. Some have big spikes coming up from their backs, some have five eyes, and some of them have skin that’s all… sloughing from their flesh and bones. I turn to run, and then you’re standing there. You have a gun, and you’re pointing it at my face. You say that I’ve been corrupted, and that you need to save me…and then the pendant is there again…right in my face.”

Rosalie sat in stunned silence as she listened to Elijah. They were sitting on her—Angelique’s—king sized bed, which was a beautiful and expensive designer piece, custom made to match the carpeting and walls. It had taken some string pulling and a lot of elbow twisting, but with the money left to her by her father and Angelique, her deceased best friend’s home now belonged to her.

She still couldn’t believe that both of them were gone, but she vowed to herself that she would never sell this place if she could help it. Money had always an issue for her, but if she kept herself to a strict budget she would probably never have to work again. Licking her lips, she reached out and gently placed one of her hands on Elijah’s arm. She barely understood what he was telling her.

“Do you think that what you saw will come true exactly like you saw it? Or is it more symbolic? Do monsters like that actually exist, Elijah?”

“I have no idea. The pendant thing wasn’t exactly like I saw it, but then again it was.” He leaned back into the couch and slowly closed his eyes. “I didn’t see the apartment thing, though. Or that it would burn. And I have no idea what the creatures are or if they mean something else…all I know is…you kill me.”

“But I would never do that.”

“Maybe you would.” As he opened his eyes, Elijah looked over at her.

“No, I lo….” She felt color rising to her cheeks, but she didn’t know if it was because she felt embarrassed or if it was because she felt angry at him. “I love you.” Swallowing hard, she nodded. “I do. I know it’s stupid, but after everything we’ve been through…“ Biting down on her lower lip, she dared to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not stupid.” His voice was soft and gentle. There was none of his usual awkwardness in it.

“Know what
is
, though? I mean, really stupid?” When he said nothing, she raised both of her eyebrows. “That you are convinced that I am going to kill you. You’re one of the only people in my life who haven’t abandoned me. Sure I stalked you to the point where you nearly got a restraining order on me, but you never let me go.”

“I saw it.” Elijah’s mouth formed into a tight line.

“I’m not going to kill you.” As his lips parted to argue, she shook her head and placed a finger over his mouth. Reaching to support herself on his shoulders, she pulled herself over him and settled over his lap. Sliding her fingers around to the back of his neck, she pressed her chest against him and captured his lips in her own. A hesitant sound of pleasure was her reward, and she found herself smiling.

Her hands moved down his chest and then under his shirt, pressing and gliding across his skin as she teased him with the tip of her tongue. He responded with less hesitation this time, tangling them together. He grabbed the back of her head with hands that were only partially gentle, pulling her closer.

“This time,” he whispered against her lips. “You can be on bottom.”

Her eyes widening in pleasant surprise, Rosalie allowed Elijah to push her onto her back, nestling her into the warmth comfort of the mattress.