CHAPTER TWO
Charles Montgomery didn’t react to my rudeness. “How lovely to see you too,” he drawled.
I blew my bangs out of eyes. “What brings you to Five Point South, Mr. Montgomery?”
“I’m here to speak to you of course,” he said, his expression remaining composed.
He was immaculately dressed, sporting navy slacks and a white dress shirt open at the collar with a long dark trench coat over it all. Topping off the look, his hair was brushed back from his face and cut short on the sides, highlighting an intriguing mixture of silver and brown.
The man was elegant, handsome, and more importantly he carried an energy with him. A mundane wouldn’t know what that energy was—but a magickal practitioner would recognize it as power.
Raw power.
Charles Montgomery was a ceremonial magician and one of the more potent I’d ever known.
I’d never liked him. He was arrogant, snobbish, and consistently looked down his nose at the Witches of the Southside.
But I wasn’t just any Witch—I was the Magistra, and I could more than hold my own against him, or any other practitioner.
To prove it, I sent lightning flashing across the sky and the following thunder cracked loud enough to have the building shake. Outside, the rain began to pour, suddenly heavy once again.
He acknowledged the display of my power—the lightning and thunder—with the slightest nod of his head. Silently he continued to stand in my bookstore, studying me with his electric blue eyes, as if he found me amusing. Which was seriously starting to piss me off.
“Did you not receive the text messages I sent you this morning?” he finally asked.
His voice was a weapon in and of itself. It was low, cultured, and had the slightest of southern drawls. It damn near made me shiver.
I shrugged off my visceral reaction. “It’s been a busy day.”
He glanced around the sales floor. There were two women browsing the stacks and a college student leisurely flipping through the pages of a book in a chair by the window.
“Clearly,” he said, with one side of his mouth kicking up in an almost smile.
“Well, perhaps you could find it in your heart to spare me a moment of your valuable time.”
He was baiting me. I recognized it even as I struggled not to react. “Mr. Montgomery,” I began, keeping my voice down, “I make it a rule to never conduct community business during bookstore hours.”
“Then let me take you to lunch, where we would be free to discuss it.”
“I’m afraid I’m too busy today to—”
“Lorna Southern, afraid?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
I was saved from answering—or more likely saying something extremely rude—by the arrival of Dex. He’d carried a milk crate full of new books up front to be shelved, but when he saw Charles Montgomery at the counter, he paused.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Dex asked.
“Hello, Poindexter,” Charles said in a completely different tone.
His greeting to Dex had been delivered in a way that I could only describe as hostile, which surprised me.
Charles Montgomery never raised his voice.
I’d once heard him reprimand one of the members of his lodge and knew he could indeed be harsh.
Yet right then, his inflection and intonation had subtly shifted. He sounded almost angry.
Dex stayed at my side, his shoulder brushing mine, and I suddenly realized he was doing so on purpose. Charles Montgomery shifted his gaze from Dex and back to me, his eyes narrowing in concentration.
The man was wondering if Dex and I were lovers.
I almost smiled.
From the right, Kate popped her head in from The Apothecary Shoppe. “Hey Lorna, did that new book I’ve been waiting for on herbs come in with...” She trailed off when she noticed my visitor. She frowned and then walked right over to stop beside Montgomery.
“Hello,” she said. “Have we met?”
He acknowledged Kate with an inclination of his head, but he did not offer his hand. “Charles Montgomery, Miss Weaver,” he said. “I am acquainted with your mother’s family.”
“How nice,” Kate said. And despite him knowing her last name, she did not extend a hand either—it wasn’t uncommon for magickal users to avoid touching each other. Especially when they were unsure of one another.
Montgomery stepped back from the counter. “Meet me at one o’clock for lunch,” he said to me. “This isn’t a trivial social matter. And we do need to talk.”
“It will depend on how busy we are this afternoon,” I replied, giving him the most polite excuse I could come up with.
“I’ll text you the address,” he said as if I’d already agreed. He then walked to the door, pushed it open and stood for a moment silhouetted by the rain. Charles Montgomery’s eyes met and held mine for a long moment...almost as if he were daring me to refuse his invitation.
Then, he popped the collar of his coat against the rain and ducked out into it. A moment later he was gone.
“What the hell was that all about?” Kate asked me.
Dex scowled. “Never could stand that arrogant motherfu—”
“Dex.” I cut him off, before he swore on the sales floor.
Kate crossed her arms over her chest. “Why does he want you to meet him for lunch? It’s not like a date or something, is it?”
That made me chuckle. “Lord, no. I would never date Charles Montgomery.”
“Then why was he here?” Kate wanted to know.
Dex adjusted the crate of books he still held. “As much as I dislike Montgomery and his lodge—he’s texted you twice already, Lorna. And then he followed that up by coming in here in person to see you.”
I didn’t bother asking how Dex knew. Dex was a postcognitive psychic and his abilities specialized in seeing events that happened in the past—which was known as retrocognition. Still, I blew out a long, annoyed breath.
“You know, Dex,” I began, “there are times when your retrocognition comes in very handy. Today, I’m finding it a tad annoying.”
“It’s only annoying when I’m right,” Dex said.
Damn it, I thought. Dex was right. Montgomery coming here to the bookstore to see me was highly unusual… Typically if we had to meet publically, it was somewhere neutral.
Dex patted my shoulder. “Whatever the problem is... I feel that it is important.”
“So you really think I should meet him for lunch?” I asked Dex.
He nodded. “I do.”
“I don’t want to mess up your afternoon off,” I said.
Dex smiled. “And you’re looking for any excuse not to go.”
“Too bad you can’t see the future.” I gave Dex a friendly elbow jab. “It would save me the trouble of finding out what’s going on.”
“We could ask Circe to throw a few Tarot cards for you,” Kate offered. “That way you’re not walking in blind.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” I said to Kate. “I’m terrible at reading for myself.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Kate said, crossing her heart.
“I’ll man the counter,” Dex offered. “Go pop over to Circe’s and have her do a quick reading for you.”
“I think I will,” I said, walking out from around the counter.
“See you later.” Kate blew a kiss to Dex as we left.
I crossed from my bookstore through the connecting door to Kate’s apothecary—which was between my shop and Circe’s. Kate left me to go wait on a customer, and then I passed through a second sliding door into the candle store.
The shop was beautiful, with a sales space that had been color-drenched in a deep rosy-purple hue. All sorts of candles filled the shelves, as well as magickal accessories and supplies.
Circe was unpacking a shipping box as I approached, and she glanced up and waved.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I’ve been invited to a meeting today,” I explained and filled her in.
Circe blinked in surprise. “You’re telling me that Charles Montgomery actually came down to Five Points South?”
“He did.”
“The grand high poobah decided to go slumming, eh?” Circe asked.
I chuckled at her description. “I’m not sure what he’s up to, Circe,” I said quietly. “That’s why I’m asking you to take a look for me.”
With a nod, Circe reached under her front counter and drew out a purple velvet bag that held her tarot cards. Deftly she pulled the cards free and shuffled them. Then she divided the stack of cards into three piles and placed them face down on the counter.
“This is the fastest way to find out what we most need to know,” she said, flipping over the top card from the stack on the left.
Circe used a different deck and card spread than I, but that was fine with me. I preferred getting her insight, not arguing against my own intuition and what I wanted to see as opposed to what was. Reading the tarot for yourself is never easy.
“Eight of Swords,” she said, pointing to the first card that showed a woman standing within a circle of swords that were thrust into the ground. “Restriction or feeling trapped is the classic definition of this card. However, see how the woman has her arms bound behind her back and is blindfolded?”
I leaned closer to study the image. “Yes.”
“Well in this deck, the Eight of Swords also can mean fear of initiation or the unknown.”
“And in traditional Wiccan initiation ceremonies,” I said, “the dedicant is led to the edge of the ritual circle, hands bound, blindfolded, and challenged.”
“It is better to rush upon this blade than enter the circle with fear in your heart...” Circe repeated the Wiccan initiation challenge.
“Okay.” I nodded.
Turning over the next card from the center stack, Circe continued. “Here we have the Three of Pentacles. Which symbolizes hard work and success through dedication. For me this card typically represents an apprentice of the occult.”
I considered her words. That tracked. Montgomery did run a lodge of ceremonial magicians. “Go on,” I told her.
Circe flipped the final card which was The High Priestess.
“Why am I not surprised?” she said with a half smile.
“The High Priestess, a woman of magickal power and wisdom. She sits dead center between a dark and a light pillar not leaning toward either. She is neutral, calm and clever.” She tapped the card with one long dark fingernail.
“Obviously this is you, in your role as the Magistra.”