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My lips pressed together and I sat on my free hand so I wouldn’t punch him. “That’s frankly none of your business, and I could ask the same. But yeah, what was up with her rhyming?”
“Let me get us more drinks. My treat, I owe you,” he offered.
“Damn straight.”
Vance left to get us refills, and I scanned the room while I waited. Natalie was at another table, doing another reading, but this time the recipient of her so-called expertise was smiling and placing a hand over her heart like she’d just received the best news ever.
My reading was nothing but dark and depressing. I scowled at myself over the words I’d just chosen to describe the experience. What was any of it supposed to mean? The woman made it sound like I was on a crash course with everything bad life had in store. I made a mental note to avoid potholes just as my friend returned.
“Here.” He passed me a fresh bottle of beer and I grabbed it, taking a long slug the second I removed the cap.
As I placed the bottle down, I said, “I don’t think I’m going to have another tarot card reading—ever.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” He shrugged and glanced around the room, his jaw sliding to the side.
The music changed to a slower classic, and the dance floor began to fill some more. “But she did say something about finding something, right? That could be grandpa’s jewelry, so that’s one good thing I guess.”
Vance nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes, for sure. You just gotta watch out for men who look like the devil and dig holes and have daggers.”
CHAPTER 5
Brittney
When I got home for the night, I went straight for the box I kept under my bed and pulled it out. Once I had it on the coffee table in the living room, I knelt and popped open the cardboard flaps.
It had been years since the last time I opened this carton and as I pulled items out, I felt a flush of embarrassment, despite being alone in my apartment. Did I really think this red candle was going to ignite passion in that guy from the gym? I didn’t even remember his name. The last memory I had of him was his face turning red when he looked at me and then him twisting around to drink from his water bottle. I never saw him again.
There was the time I was working at the fast-food burger place and really wanted a raise or promotion, so I did a money spell. I got fired three days later and took the bay leaf and cinnamon stick out of my wallet real quick.
The pungent scent that wrinkled my coworkers’ noses stuck around so long I had to spend some cash I couldn’t afford to lose on a new purse.
Magic wasn’t a talent of mine, going by my track record.
Finally, I found what I was looking for. The five-dollar hobby shop tarot deck was at the bottom of the box, still in its plastic wrapper. After I tore off the covering, I shuffled the cards a few times and spread them across the table. Then, I grabbed some black candles, lit them, and realized I’d probably done everything in the wrong order. Suspecting I should have set up the candles first, I blew them out and scooped up the cards.
After I re-lit the candles, I shuffled the deck once again and set it down in the light. The flames reflected against the glossy top, and I tried to relax and clear my mind. I was going to do a one-card draw.
Should I believe anything Natalie said tonight?
Opening my eyes, I selected a card and turned it over.
The Devil.
The flames of the two onyx-colored candles wavered and then guttered, before springing to life again. A chill crawled down the back of my neck, causing me to shiver and I rubbed my arms, hugging myself.
I held my breath and scanned the room, eyeing the shadows with suspicion. It didn’t look like anything had changed in my room, and there weren’t any windows open. Everything seemed as it should be, but there was a definitive change in the air.
A small thrill went through me when I realized this must have been the energy people talk about when they are into spells and magic. It excited me, but I was also a little cautious because what the fuck? The feeling was brand new to me. There wasn’t a single time in the past I could remember where I’d felt this electric current in the air. Other than during a thunderstorm, that was.
Not one to waste a fantastic opportunity, I sat up on my knees and dug into the box again, grabbing a thick, red candle. Using my fingernail, I carved the word “love” into the wax and then took a small glass bottle from my stash and rubbed rose petal oil into the word.
My anointed candle went onto a brass holder, and I wondered if I should add anything else. My cellphone sat on the floor beside my legs, but I didn’t want to do anything that might disturb the vibe by looking stuff up.
Cloves? Quartz? Maybe some cinnamon to “spice things up”? But it all boiled down to intention, I remembered. People didn’t really need all the trappings; they were just symbols. All the power you could ever need was within you, and the props were purely that—props.
The aesthetics were beautiful, though. Probably my favorite part of the whole thing. A sprinkle of glitter and some tiny pieces of quartz were set on the candle stand, and I shut my eyes, letting the charged atmosphere envelop me.
Words were another thing one didn’t truly need. I didn’t have a written spell or anything, so I focused on what I wanted. Love hadn’t featured predominantly in my life, other than what I experienced through my grandfather.
