Chapter Eight
“What have you got, Rhonda?” Bradley crossed the room in front of the projector, body briefly carrying the concepts already shown on the screen. He leaned against a windowsill, surveying the team as Rhonda handed out copies of her proposal to the six others at the table.
“SinCorp has three night clubs already; Envy, Wrath and Lust. It makes sense to continue the trend with Pride, Greed and Gluttony. Of course, we miss out on Sloth, but with their projected growth, it’s likely that they’ll open more clubs in the future.”
Some of the others nodded their agreement to the plan. It made sense. It was safe and followed a theme SinCorp already had in place. But it was predictable. In her effort to be more professional, Soph tried not to roll her eyes. This was a two million dollar project. Possibly more. And Rhonda wanted to call a nightclub Gluttony.
Rhonda talked through the mock ups as Soph’s phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket and read a text from Marco beneath the table.
- Good luck with your proposal.
- Thanks, I’ll need it x
“Soph?” Bradley said as Rhonda finished and she quickly set her phone aside, handing out her own proposals. Pushing aside her nerves, she rose. She was, first and foremost, a graphic designer, but the Head of Design role was on the line here and she wanted it as she’d never wanted anything in her life. And the Head of Design role meant she’d be presenting concepts more often, so she wiped her clammy hands against her skirt and plunged right into it.
“Previously, SinCorp had kept their HQ separate from its subsidiaries, but in the past five years, they’ve actively been putting their parent company out there. You see it in SinCity, their casino in Hamilton, and in Sinatra, their chain of hotels across Europe. I propose we bring the new nightclubs under the same banner.” She lifted the remote for the projector and turned it on. Her designs flashed up on the screen.
“Let me present, Sincere, Sinners, and Sinister. City Central’s newest entertainment destinations.” She sat down again as her designs continued to roll over on the screen. She’d spent a lot of late nights over the past week working on them, as well as researching SinCorp’s previous business strategies and campaigns. In particular, she’d paid attention to the years since Eli had purchased controlling shares in the company and the changes that had happened in that time. Secretly, she also hoped that he would like her ideas, even if he didn’t know they were hers when they were presented under the Paxus brand.
“Bold,” Bradley told her with a nod. “And logical,” he added to Rhonda. “I’ll take them both to SinCorp and see what they say. Thanks team,” he pushed away from the windowsill, “I’m impressed with the effort you’ve all put into making this work.”
The others left the meeting room - Bradley giving Soph a pat on the shoulder as he went - and Soph sat back, watching her designs play over on the screen. She picked up her phone and wrote a text to Marco.
- Presentation done. Fingers crossed for results tomorrow.
- You’ll smash it, I’m sure.
* * *
“So you’ve been hanging out with Marco?” Luie teased as she poured them both a vodka slushie from her freezer. Nona was out with a friend that night, so blessedly, Soph and Luie had the house to themselves. Whenever they managed that, they had home-made cocktails instead of wine.
“He’s surprisingly nice,” Soph said. “And normal. But we’ve only been on one date.”
“And texting, I heard.”
Soph narrowed her eyes at her cousin. “Who’s your source?”
“Oh, I’ll never tell,” Luie laughed. She patted her leg and Hash jumped up on the lounge beside her.
“It’s Stefan, isn’t it?” Soph guessed. Stefan was Luie’s fiance. Her cousin tapped her nose but said nothing. “Well, anyway, he’s fun. And hot. I doubt it will lead to anything serious.”
“And that’s all on you and your commitment issues,” Luie told her. Soph shrugged, though Luie spoke the truth of it. She liked Marco. The way they talked and texted was as if they’d known each other for years and yet getting comfortable like that had her on edge. She didn’t like getting comfortable because the next expectations her family would have were marriage and children.
A small part of her wondered if that would be such a bad idea. Getting a promotion at work, pleasing her grandmother by shacking up with the right man… It would certainly make life easier.
“I enjoy being a loner. Anyway, what are we doing for your birthday in a few weeks?”
“Stefan wanted to take me out in the city. Some club he enjoys going to… Envy, I think?”
“I like Envy. I’m sure he won’t mind if I tag along?”
Luie smiled coyly. “Only if you bring Marco.”
Soph glared at her. “Fine, I’ll invite Marco.” she turned aside to avoid Luie’s gleeful smirk, and a magazine cover on the side table caught her attention. “What’s this?” She lifted it up to get a better look.
Dressed in an open shirt and a leather jacket and arms crossed over the slither of bare torso, Eli Damiani looked back at her with tousled hair and smouldering gaze. Splashed across the page were the words ‘This year’s most eligible bachelor: Eli Damiani tells all’.
“It’s a rubbish article,” Luie informed her. “He basically talks about all the women he’s fucked and how he got super rich super quickly. But the pictures are to die for.”
Soph resisted the urge to open the magazine and read more. Instead, she satisfied herself by looking at his face on the front cover. His grey eyes were cool, as if he wasn’t quite sure how he’d been roped into being an eligible bachelor and though his hair was supposed to tease at a romp between the sheets, it reminded her of the night he’d showed up at her door, begging for help.
“Are you going to look?” Luie asked.
“No,” Soph replied firmly, setting the magazine aside. She could always buy her own copy later. Luie huffed and sipped her drink. She had a devilish look in her eye, however.
“If you won’t look at hot guys in magazines, it seems like you might be more into Marco than you’re letting on.”
Soph suppressed a sigh. Only Luie would come to such a conclusion. But if it took the focus off Eli and the guilt Soph felt at knowing him in secret, then she’d play along. Still, she couldn’t deny the way her stomach fluttered when she thought about him.
Focus on Marco, she berated herself, but she couldn’t help a last glance at the magazine cover where Eli stared back, gaze so piercing it was like he could read her mind. Marco was the right thing to do, but Founders she wondered what Eli would be like instead…
* * *
When she got home that night, she couldn’t get her mind off Eli. It had been exactly a week since he’d shown up at her door with two predator vampires on his tail, begging her to let him in. She almost wished it would happen again so she could see him.
She was fascinated. He was nothing like the vampires she’d read about in stories as a child, or the ones she saw in the news as an adult. Hell, he didn’t even seem like the vampires who owned up to the title in the public eye, shifty characters that they were.
She opened the door to her apartment and while her eyes adjusted to the dark room; she imagined him standing there, waiting for her.
But he wasn’t. The room was empty. She stepped inside and felt a crunch under her foot. Flicking on the light, she stooped to pick up the envelope that had been slipped under the door.
It was black, the paper thick and velvety. On the front - in red ink - her name was elegantly scrawled. Sophia Giannopoulos. She turned it over to find it sealed with wax. Dumping her handbag in its customary spot on the lounge, she sat down.
“A bit over the top,” she muttered to herself as she ripped it open. The letter inside was made of a similar black card and written in red ink. Soph squinted as she read it.
Dear Sophia,
We, the Night Queens, invite you to a Wiccan gathering that will blow your mind and enlighten the powers hidden within you.
No tutelage is offered, and no hoops are held to jump through, for we know you know the magic of your heart.
We offer a greeting to you, Sister, at Bangalow Cafe on Wednesday at 8:00am for breakfast.
Adriana, Darcel Sierra.
Soph snorted with laughter and set the letter aside. As an unattached witch with no coven to claim her, she often got invitations such as this to join others. Nona was a powerful witch and well connected. It was only natural for Soph, as her descendant, to be a coveted item. Still…
She glanced at the letter again. Most covens expected her to go through a rigorous training process and levels of initiation to get ‘in’ on the coven secrets. She hated the superiority of those in the know, which was why she never lasted long being attached to any group. This letter spoke directly to her. How did the Night Queens know she hated the formality of initiation? How did they know that a breakfast invite was the quickest way to get in her good books?
She sighed and slouched down on the lounge. It was late. She’d think about the invitation in the morning.
* * *
“Adriana, Darcel and Sierra, I presume?” Soph said when she approached the only table with three women at it. Not that the black crystal sitting on the table was a dead giveaway or anything.
“Sophia.” One of them stood and greeted her warmly. She had auburn hair that fell over her shoulder in delicate ringlets and she tinkled as she moved with the charms and beads that adorned her neck and wrists. “I’m so glad you decided to meet with us. I’m Adriana, and this is Darcel and Sierra.” She pointed to the other two witches. Darcel had black hair cropped into a pixie cut and dark, heavy makeup on her eyes. Sierra looked a little like Adriana, with reddish hair, though not as long, and wide blue eyes. Surprisingly, Sierra was dressed in corporate attire.
“I work nearby as a typist,” Sierra offered when she noticed the way Soph appraised her.
“I work nearby too,” Soph replied, sitting in the only remaining chair as Adriana offered it to her.
“We know,” Darcel said, and her tone was dry. “That’s why we picked this spot.”
It didn’t surprise Soph that they’d looked her up before inviting her to meet. She would have done the same thing. Normally she would have had to be at work by this time, but after her nightclub designs had been a hit with the marketing team over at SinCorp, Bradley had been more than willing to let her take the morning off. “Anything for my new Head of Design,” he’d told her.
“So you probably know that we got in touch because we’d like to invite you to join our coven,” Adriana said with a smile. Soph nodded along with her.
“The Night Queens?” Soph guessed their coven name. Adriana gave a tinkling laugh.
“That’s us. We’re the founding witches, but our coven is growing every day, swelling with other daughters of darkness.”
Dramatic, Soph thought, though she said nothing aloud. Witches were odd creatures. She was used to it. Adriana continued.
“We have thirty beautiful queens in our coven, all of us like sisters. That’s because we don’t run our coven like a sorority house, as many other covens do. We want our witches to give in to the temptations of magic, to explore all the possibilities and to grow and nurture each other with our shared passion for heart magic.”
“Heart magic,” Soph echoed. She’d heard of it before. It usually referred to using one’s own energy to execute spells. It was frowned upon by most covens, but Soph had used it without problems before. “Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t dedicate a lot of time to witchcraft. Certainly far less than my grandmother would like. I like the idea of your coven, but do you have high expectations of my attendance?”
“Of course not,” Sierra piped up. “We’re all busy, modern women. We work. We have families. Often we catch up in smaller groups, having coffee when we can and touching base. Only about once a month we like to meet as a full coven and explore rituals together.”
“Seems fair,” Soph said. Almost too good to be true. “Do I have to pay a joining fee or something?”
The three witches laughed. “Certainly not. You don’t even have to commit to joining the coven until the first monthly meeting, and that’s not for another three weeks,” Adriana told her. “Sierra will keep in touch with you in the meantime, though, as she works nearby. She’ll answer any questions you have about the Night Queens.”
Soph sat back and surveyed them. It all seemed so reasonable that she didn’t know what to think. It wouldn’t hurt, she decided, to play along with them for a while and see if any loopholes came up. The amulet around her neck certainly wasn’t warning her of any danger.
And joining a coven would make Nona happy. Another rung on the ladder in her eternal quest to impress her grandmother.
“Okay,” she said, and the three witches grinned. “I’ll bite. Sign me up.”