Secret Worlds (124 page)

Skye saw they were all waiting, watching her curiously.

“The candles are up by the register.” She headed there, picking up a sage smudge stick on the way. After ringing them up, she slipped the stick to Molly. “This is on the house. If you feel uneasy afterwards, burn this in the room.”

Molly shot her a grateful smile and Skye felt reassured at least one of them was level-headed enough to take some precautions.

Skye dragged a box of books from behind the counter and kicked it over to the bookshelf for stocking. Perspiration on her face and body chilled her and she pulled the heavy coat more tightly around her body. The skin around her wings itched mercilessly but she didn’t dare take off her coat and risk exposure. The fairies had to help her get rid of them. She couldn’t live like this, halfway in both worlds.

She split open the package with some box cutters and put up the books, determined to keep busy.

“What are you, sick or something?” Glenna was by her side, arms folded, hair hanging over half her face. “You look ridiculous working in that heavy coat.”

Skye took the excuse Glenna handed her. “Bad cold. Maybe you should stay away.”

“You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to catch your cold.”

“Always sympathetic.” Skye kept stocking, not wanting to look in Glenna’s storm gray eyes. Her lips tightened and she slammed the books into place with jerky motions.

“It’s almost closing time and Claribel and Mama D won’t be back in until tomorrow. I can lock up tonight,” said Glenna.

Startled, Skye almost dropped a book. “You’ve never offered to help before. You must be the one sick.”

“No, just looking out for my health. Go home, Skye.”

Gray eyes clashed with green ones as they faced each other. Skye couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I’m not leaving. I know why you want to stay late tonight.”

“You do?” Glenna uncrossed her arms, leaning forward slightly.

“Pixie killer.” It felt good to get it out in the open.

Glenna’s mouth opened and closed. “Did you call me a pixie murderer? Hanging around Claribel has made you lose your freaking mind. Get a grip.”

Skye walked a step forward, only inches between them now. “I’ve been in the backroom of the basement. I’ve seen the absinthe and I know what you’re doing with it.”

Glenna gasped and slowly stepped back. “How did you know?” Her face flushed in a combination of guilt and anger. “I mean . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” Skye poked a finger at Glenna’s chest. “You’ve been in that locked room with the cases of absinthe. You’ve even worn black gloves and poured some of the absinthe in the carafe.” Skye clasped Glenna’s right wrist. “The bracelet gave you away. I saw it when you put the metal tray over the carafe’s opening.”

Glenna twisted out of Skye’s grasp, taking another step back. “Okay, I admit it. I’ve been down there. But it’s not what you think.” Her eyes darted around the store.

“I don’t care who sees us.” Skye said. “What people think right now is the least of my worries.”

“I was just, you know, doing a favor for someone.” Glenna licked her lips.

“Do the words ‘Dark Fae’ mean anything to you?”

“Huh?” Glenna acted confused. Although,
act
could be the key word here. “Hey, I don’t have to take this from you.” She scurried away, faster than Skye had ever seen her move before.

No doubt about it. After closing, she was going in that basement and making sure the absinthe wasn’t set out. Just in case any pixies with a craving for 150 proof alcohol were still left flying around. And she would definitely have to speak with Claribel tomorrow about Glenna. If she was lucky, tonight was the last time she’d have to deal with her nastiness. No way would Claribel want to keep on an employee who treated the fairies like Glenna did.

She opened up her cell phone again. 8:45 and still no messages. Shoot, tonight would have been perfect for Kyle and Kheelan to meet since everyone would be out of the store soon. She texted Callie, made sure she’d gotten home okay. Seconds later, Callie responded.
I’m home. TTYS p.s. stay strong.

“Yours.” A black velvet charm bag was shoved in her hand.

“Kyle, that’s so sweet to make this for me. Any special reason?”

His eyes slid away as if searching for a far-away place and he rocked bath and forth on his feet. “Danger.” He stated it flatly in his monotone way. “Herbs help.”

Skye opened the bag an inch, sniffed the pungent aroma, and sneezed violently. “What did you put in here?” She slid open the pouch’s drawstring, emptying the contents into one palm. There were several rusty nails, a thimble sized silver bell, herbs and twigs. Her eyes watered from the fumes and her hand itched and burned.

“Foxglove,” said Kyle. “Birch, nettles.”

The ingredients for protection and exorcism, and the nails, with their iron content, a proven fairy allergen. Which explained her severe reaction to Kyle’s gift.

Fairy repellant. Skye hastily scooped the contents back in the bag and stuffed it in a pocket.

The shop door rang and a perky thirty-something woman, with black, bobbed hair, waved in their direction. “Ready to head home, Kyle?”

He jerked his head in the direction of the coffee shop. “All done,” he said.

“Thanks for coming in, Kyle,” Skye said. “You did a good job today. Mama D will be proud of you.”

He nodded and spoke again. “Count cards.”

Startled, she gazed at his profile, not sure if he was talking to her or Melissa who had come to drive him back to his group home. “Count what cards, Kyle?” But he was several feet away, walking toward his ride.

“Bye-bye,” he called out to Skye without looking back. So much for getting Kyle and Kheelan together tonight. She watched as several of the others made to leave, Glenna at the head of the line. Good riddance.

“Psycho,” Glenna called out before slamming the door shut.

Sighing with relief, Skye locked herself in and took the money into Claribel’s office to put up in the overnight safe.

Count cards. She tapped her lips with her fingers, trying to understand Kyle’s message. Usually when people said ‘count cards,’ it meant cheating at poker. The autistic character in
Rainman
, counting cards at a Vegas casino, flashed in her mind. The only cards Skye had any familiarity with were the tarot deck.

Bingo – the tarot cards. She had once remarked to Glenna that some cards in the shop deck must be missing since Glenna kept picking the same depressing ones all the time. Had Kyle been around that day? She couldn’t remember. But it was the only clue she could grasp from his cryptic words.

The tarot deck was in its customary place, wrapped in purple silk behind the register. Skye set up a mini altar with white candles anointed with frankincense and cinnamon oils. After lighting the candles, she rubbed her palms together to raise energy and chanted:

She flipped cards, first separating out a pile for the major arcana. All accounted for. She took the remaining cards of the minor arcana and made a pile for each of the suits: wands, cups, swords and pentacles. Only one card was unaccounted for: the Queen of Swords.

An odd card to be missing. Not a particularly important one. Truthfully, if all of the sword cards went AWOL from a deck Skye wouldn’t complain. Swords represented conflict, challenges, and the winter season when death, hardship and struggle reigned. No one wanted cards like that. Unfortunately, Skye drew those quite a bit. Which is why she hardly ever did tarot spreads anymore. Life had enough conflicts and challenges without the reminder.

Skye gathered the cards in a single file and shuffled the deck, trying to figure out the significance of the missing card. Court cards, like the queen, often represented real people in your life. The Queen of Swords was traditionally an assertive, commanding woman with bold ideals shown symbolically through the upraised sword in her firm grip. A woman who ruled with an iron fist . . . Skye drew in her breath sharply . . . Mom?

She certainly fit the profile. She had high expectations of others, especially her children, and kept a vigilant eye for any perceived wrongs or slights. A woman with a strong sense of dignity and purpose. Not to mention highly critical.

Why was it missing? Maybe it meant she was supposed to call Mom. Skye had been meaning to call her, really, but kept finding an excuse to put it off. The thought of Mom having a fairy fling . . . gross.

Don’t be a wuss
. Just call her. Skye took out her cell phone, started to dial, then snapped it shut. She would do a reading first, sort of a preparation.

She selected three cards and laid them face down on the counter. The first card she turned over represented her past.

Four of Pentacles. Skye thought of it as the three ‘i’s card – isolation, insecurity and incompleteness. All fit. Being Rowena Watters’ child was no cakewalk. Skye knew she was a constant source of disappointment to Mom. There was nothing talented or special about her. The muscles in the back of her spine twitched and her wings beat in a futile attempt to escape the binding. Well, she did have one thing special about her now.

Skye flipped the second card, which represented the present.

Four of Swords in the reverse position. Damn those swords! Skye concentrated on the meaning. Reversed, it meant the need for immediate action and to break out of the death of isolation. Problem was, she wasn’t sure of her next move. Maybe the third card, the future card, could help. She placed her hand on the final card, held her breath, and closed her eyes. Her mind’s eye formed an image of a man in armor riding a black horse, eyes ahead, unwavering in his mission.

Knight of Pentacles. She knew it before her fingers fully turned over the card. Kheelan, a man of action, a strategizer working relentlessly to make a dream come true. Her future was bound to his but in what way she didn’t know. The only thing she knew with certainty was that she was the key for Kheelan to reach that dream of freedom.

Time for some action of her own. Skye blew out the candles and put the tarot deck back in place. When she lifted her cell phone, she hesitated before stuffing it, unused, in her coat pocket. There was something she needed to do more important than calling Mom. She had to make sure Glenna hadn’t set a final trap for the pixies on this Samhain’s Eve.

Best to get this next part over with quickly. Kheelan was probably waiting at her apartment now.

Skye grabbed a flashlight from the counter and went downstairs to the basement.

It was cold down there, almost as cold as the fall night outside.

Skye reached the bottom stair and flipped on her flashlight. The existing light fixture in the basement barely illuminated anything but the center of the room where the bare bulb hung on flimsy wiring.

Jiggling her keys and humming loudly, Skye strode to the back storeroom. The noise helped give her a false sense of bravado. Just a quick look in the storeroom to make sure the absinthe wasn’t set out to hurt the pixies, and she would be on her merry way home.

The smell of licorice, strong as an opened, ton-sized barrel of crushed star anise, assaulted her senses before she pulled the light chain. More pungent than ever, the aroma alerted her to the presence of evil. Skye gripped the flashlight like a weapon.

On the metal counter by the back wall, the absinthe fountain, carafe, and a set of crystal drinking glasses all sparkled with The Green Fairy. It fizzed and bubbled like just-poured ginger ale spiked with crushed emeralds.

Skye licked her lips. Her throat and mouth were as parched as if they had suffered through a season-long drought. She stepped forward, imagining the cool, bittersweet liquid trickling down her throat in waves of refreshing pleasure.

She had to have it. She would die of thirst if she didn’t.

Another step forward. Her stomach tightened and ached with need. Only the absinthe could quench that gut-wrenching ache.

Yet another step and Skye’s fingers curled around the stem on one of the sparkling goblets. Not even the sight of tiny fairy remains, floating in the pool of absinthe like drowned flies, could stop her. She raised the goblet toward her mouth. The cool rim of the glass touched her lips. A stirring in the air, a brush of movement against her cheeks caused her numb fingers to loosen their hold on the goblet’s stem. It crashed onto the concrete floor sending glass shards everywhere. Something else fell too, the thing that had come out of nowhere and brushed by the front of her face. A tarot card landed face up in the splattered, green muck.

The Queen of Swords. Skye lifted it out of the spilled gunk with trembling fingers and studied it in bewilderment, uncertain if it had materialized as a warning or a threat.

Get out. Now.

She dropped the card. It was the same voice that had told her to fly last night when she had awakened from a dream to find herself perched on a treetop sporting a pair of brand spanking new fairy wings. A whirring hum between her ears made her heart pump furiously, sending adrenaline spikes pounding through every vein in her body. Skye’s vision tunneled, the peripheral sight coated in blackness. The remaining pinpoint of light illuminated only the fallen Queen of Swords at her feet.

Impossible to think. It took all her mental energy and physical strength to stand upright and remember to breathe. Skye frantically searched her coat pocket, then jeans pocket. She needed a grounding crystal and she usually kept one on her at all times. Her fingers explored her back hip pocket and felt the smooth, hard surface of a stone. She pulled it out, placing it between her two palms, closed her eyes, and drew on its energy.

The coolness of the crystal warmed under her hands, sending waves of calm in every vibrating cell of her body like an injection of peace. Skye took several deep breaths until steady enough to open her eyes again. Unfurling her closed palms, she focused her gaze on the silver hematite shining so bright it lit the skin of her hands, revealing the delicate spider web of veins.