Chapter 4 #4
“Dosia was his mystery lady. She knew nothing about the pumpkin. That was an odd coincidence. She thinks she bumped it when she was leaving and somehow Pumpkin ended up cuddling with that instead of her.” Calliope paused, taking a sip of her tea.
“Anyway, I knew that it was time for Dosia to return to Mount Grove last month. This place was up for rent and it felt like the right time. Dosia and her daughter, JJ, came back—and bumped right into Pumpkin.”
My brain felt like it had just been dunked in a vat of whiskey. “What?” I repeated. “Wait, wait, wait. Is JJ Pumpkin’s daughter?”
She nodded. “Pumpkin’s going to be introducing them to the club this afternoon after JJ gets out of school. He proposed Saturday night.”
Pumpkin was not only in a relationship but had proposed?
What the fuck? Although, that would explain his words with me this morning when I’d called Calliope ‘the witch’.
I internally winced. That had definitely been wrong of me.
Calliope certainly didn’t seem like she was bothered by the term, but I was bothered by my usage of it.
Any word could be harmful when said in a derogatory way, and that certainly was how I had meant it at the time.
Fuck. Pumpkin had been right to scold me, and I was a fucking dumbass.
Calliope reached over, grabbing my wrist and turning it so she could look at my watch. “Actually, they’ll be heading that way soon. I didn’t think about the fact that you’re here and they’re there. Did you want to go so you could meet her?”
Fuck no. I didn’t dare move my arm, hoping she wouldn’t notice that she still gripped me. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assured her. I could meet Pumpkin’s woman and daughter another time. This time here, with Calliope, was precious, and unfortunately, fleeting.
Christ, I loved her smile. It was so pure, genuine.
Those words made me wonder something. “Not all men are as…” I fought for the right wording and really came up with nothing good.
“Not all men have the same intentions as me,” I reworded.
The statement left a sour note in my mouth.
“Surely you’ve dated before, or had a relationship with someone who was honest.”
“You say that like you’re not?” she shot back at me. “You are honest, Quinten. You’re good and loyal.” She squeezed my wrist when I made to argue, and then let go of me. Damn it. “We haven’t talked about this yet. I told you I’m Wiccan, but not what that means. Are you familiar with Paganism?”
I shook my head.
She gestured to the shelf I was not building. “You build, I’ll talk.” I was very fucking okay with that. I took another gulp of coffee before I picked up my drill again.
“In the simplest of terms, all Wiccans are Pagan but not all Pagans are Wiccan. It’s like the whole Kleenex versus tissues thing.
Being Pagan is very broad and each person practices differently.
Some are more spiritual while others worship specific gods or the entity of nature.
There are even some Pagans who worship the Christian God and Jesus Christ.” I continued working, not wanting to interrupt her, though I found her words fascinating.
“Witchcraft, or Wicca, is a practice, not a religion. We take part in rituals, cast spells, and share in the magic that is within each of us. My coven is small, but also unique in that I have an active power. There are many with a specific skillset, like me, and many who don’t.
I was born with my gift, blessed by the Goddess and the God to see the future.
“Trust me,” she added with a bit of a self-deprecating smirk, “it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
I can’t see the lottery numbers, as I’ve said, and I take no personal gain in my craft.
Things come to me without my seeking them, and there’s a lot that I know that I wish I didn’t.
But I am grateful to them. I was granted what few are, and I honor that by being true to myself and my gift. ”
I kept working. “I have questions.”
She finished her tea and put the mug down. She picked up the other drill and started at the other end of the shelf as she had before. “Ask away.”
“Did you see all this happening today already? Like do you see the future and the present at the same time?”
She shook her head. “Goddess, no. I’d go mad if I did.
I see glimpses, and as you learned, intentions.
Snippets, if you will. It’s rare that I see an entire event all the way through.
And there’s still a level of interpreting.
For example, sometimes I’ll see a butterfly and know a change is coming.
Or a snake and know that someone means harm to either myself or a loved one.
It’s rare that I have a strong vision, and usually that’s only when I am very familiar with the person it’s about. ”
That made sense. If she saw everything about everyone life would be fucking miserable. I didn’t envy her abilities, that was for sure. “Do they hurt? Do you get migraines or headaches?”
She stopped what she was doing to look up at me, shock clear on her face. “You’re the first person to ask me that.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. Didn’t her family watch out for her? “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No.” She smiled at me. “No migraines, headaches, or nosebleeds. But sometimes I do things and I have no idea why until later.”
“Like buying a litter box when you don’t have a cat?” I inquired.
Her cheeks darkened. “Like buying a litter box when I don’t have a cat.”
“Is Oolong your familiar?” I picked up another screw.
“He is,” she confirmed. And then she giggled.
I lifted an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’m the witch but you’re the one with a black cat,” she giggled.
I shook my head, smirking. “Touché.”
“Can I ask you questions now?”
I was surprised she’d want to know anything about me. My life certainly wasn’t exciting in comparison. “Ask me anything.”
“Are you happy here, in Mount Grove?”
That wasn’t what I’d expected her to ask, but then again, I was coming to realize that Calliope was anything but predictable. I supposed I should get used to expecting the unexpected with her. Witch, beekeeper, siren… There wasn’t anything normal about this woman, and I was her willing captive.
“I am,” I answered. “I found my people again. My club is my home and my family.”
“I’m glad.” She rolled a screw between her fingers for a moment before saying, “I have to confess: I’ve seen your videos.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Hate to break it to you, Winnie, but that’s not a surprise.”
The screw in her hands went flying across the room as her hand jerked. “What did you call me?”
“‘Winnie’,” I repeated. “Too corny? I thought it appropriate because you love honey so much, but I can change it if you prefer something else…”
She shook her head as my voice trailed off. “No.” She seemed to need to catch her breath for a moment. “No, it’s fine. It’s…” She turned her head, as if seeking the wayward screw. “It’s fine.”
Calliope scampered to her feet, chasing after the screw she’d accidentally thrown. I didn’t understand why my nickname for her flustered her so, and damn, I was kicking myself for using it. I should have just stuck with her name.
When she came back, kneeling down, I reached over and took the screw from her hand.
She was practically shaking. I leaned in.
Unable to stop myself, I pressed my lips to her temple.
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her against me.
There was nothing in that moment that I wanted more than to offer her my comfort, but if she asked me for the moon, I’d have given it.
I ridiculously realized that I wasn’t a metamorphosing caterpillar, but a falling Star. Quite literally, in fact. Why couldn’t today be tomorrow?
“What is this?” I asked softly.
She gripped my arm with both her hands, leaning heavily into me. I barely heard her words as she said, “The start of us.”
Fuck, I should not have found that so alluring. I should not be terrified of letting go of this woman and never being able to hold her again. I should be running from this place, not gripping her tighter.
I dipped my head, nuzzling my nose into her hair. She smelled sweet, like honey. “I’m going to say something crazy, but will you go out with me tonight? Will you let me take you on a proper date?”
She turned her face slightly, and I wished I could see her expression. “No.”
My heart sank. At that single world, it turned to stone and dropped into the open abyss that was my broken soul.
Calliope sat up, shifting to face me. Our knees were touching as we stared at one another. “You can’t tonight,” she told me. “You have a previous engagement, remember?”
It took me a solid five seconds to figure out just what the hell she was talking about. “Oh shit.” The heist to get back the shell casing with Ranger. I’d completely forgotten. “Wait, you know about that?”
Did it count as breaking club bylaws if I hadn’t told her club business and she’d psychically known it anyway?
She shook her head. “Not specifics, but I know you’re doing something dangerous tonight.”
“It’s not dangerous.”
Her brown eyes bore into mine. “It is,” she insisted. “I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t want to know. I just need you safe. Please.”
I ran my fingers through her long hair. “I promise.” Ranger and I were both professionals. We knew what we were doing.
She put her hand to my chest. “But my answer still stands, Quinten. I can’t go out with you.”