Chapter 10 #2
It was heavily shadowed, with a bare sliver of moon illuminating a male profile with an angled chin. The name at the bottom said Erebus. His stomach knotted as he noted that it, too, was upside-down.
“The Page of Swords, reversed, indicates that if things remain the same, you’ll start to question what’s real.
” She reached for the card sitting above his.
It reminded him of Cass—dark hair, golden eyes, and witchy face set against a star-studded sky and surrounded by shadows that could be either grasping hands or feathered wings.
“This is the best outcome if we continue forward without making any changes.”
He read the name at the bottom of the card. “Chaos? That doesn’t sound good.”
That earned him a small smile. “Actually, the Ace of Swords in this position shows you’ll eventually see through the lies.”
“How about not having to deal with them in the first place?”
“Yeah, that would be ideal.” She skipped over the grim visage of the card sitting directly below his, instead picking up the last card of four placed in a column to the right. “This is the Knight of Pentacles, Zephyros, which warns us to move carefully as we deal with all of this.”
This card was done in shades of white, gold, and silver. A man with gold wings faced to the left, his profile lovingly detailed but his body a vague impression of smoke.
“And this one?” He took the card she had skipped over. It showed a black-armored, horned, helmeted warrior holding a three-headed puppy. “Let me guess—Hades is the Devil?”
She nodded as she took the card from him and put it back. What she didn’t do was talk.
“Cass, what does it mean?”
Instead of answering, she said, “I made a call to Des and asked him to do a search on Russ.” She took a deep breath and faced him. Her gaze was worried but steady. “He found out that Russ is an Auctori mage.”
Shock shoved his dull headache aside for a moment. “He’s sure?”
She nodded. “The card that sits below yours—”
“The Devil card,” he said grimly.
“Indicates that there are unknown factors driving the current situation,” she finished.
That would make a sick sort of sense if Russ was an Auctori mage.
This particular mage class was notorious for fucking with people’s heads, and their influence could span from minor influence to almost complete mind control, depending on where they sat on the power spectrum. That made Russ dangerous.
Cass turned back to the spread. “Hades can also symbolize other things, like entrapment, addictions, temptations, and transformations.”
“Transformations?”
“Think of breaking free of bad habits or influences.”
“So, which is it here?”
“I think in this case, it’s saying you’re being manipulated by others, and once you recognize what's happening, it’s going to flip some emotional triggers.”
Every muscle locked as his mind raced, putting the pieces together. He really didn’t like the picture it was forming. “You think Russ’s managed to get into my head and fuck with it.”
Old rage seethed and burned through the locks holding it deep in his psyche. Unable to contain the fallout, he shoved himself to his feet and started to pace the living room, needing an outlet that wouldn’t raze everything in its path.
Cass kept her seat on the floor but watched him. “I think he tried.”
Grayson dragged a hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. “Let’s find out.”
Grayson spun on his heel and stormed to his bedroom, hearing Cass call his name.
He went to his closet and shoved aside a rack of jackets to reveal an in-wall safe.
He undid the wards and then coded in the combination that would release the lock.
Inside was his personal stash of charms, spells that he’d created to counter the shit he dealt with on the regular.
He quickly found the one he wanted, grabbed it and returned to the living room.
Cass was now standing and had moved around the coffee table. She watched him stalk back in. “Grayson—”
He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. “I can’t—not until I know for sure, Cass.”
She studied him for a long moment, her head tilted as if listening to—or for—something. Then she gave in. “Okay, what can I do to help?”
He headed to the squat coffee table. “We need to put this off to the side.”
Together they moved it to the edge of the room, making sure not to disturb the cards on top. Then he had her help him shove his sofa back so that the area rug was clear. They rolled it back, revealing an intricately etched design.
“Here, hold this for me.” He handed Cass the charm bag.
She took it as she studied the markings. “You have a circle carved in your floor?”
“Unlike Miles, I’m not planning on getting my security deposit back.
” He went to his kitchen and began putting together the items he needed.
“Worth it, though, because sometimes I have to work on stuff at home. I didn’t want to have to redraw it every time I need the added protection or power.
” Hands full, he came back to where she stood and set the chosen items on the coffee table next to the cards they hadn’t finished reading, before taking the charm from her.
“Do me a favor—set up the four points for me?”
She nodded and picked up the salt, athame, unlit candle, and roughhewn crystal. He moved to the circle’s center and sat, crossing his legs lotus style. He waited as Cass finished positioning the items and stepped back.
Grayson loosened the leather cord holding the deep-indigo bag closed and spilled out the combination of bones, stones, and dried herbs into his palm.
He closed his eyes and breathed, forcing his thoughts to slow and finally still.
Only then did he reach for the magic that lived in his veins, pulling it up and wrapping it around him like a blanket.
He let it grow until it lay thick and heavy around him.
When it was bucking at the reins, he opened his eyes and whispered, “Ignis eum.”
Power ran through him and spilled into the circle.
With an ease born of years of practice, he wove his magic through the lines of the complex spell that would warn if someone was fucking with him.
Reddish-gold threads of fire ripped through the runes on the floor then swept back to curl around him as if directed by an invisible hand, until he was wrapped inside a glowing cocoon.
Power washed through him and lapped at the edges of the circle before sweeping back toward him.
With each pass, the magic grew until the force of it tangled his hair and scoured his skin.
He was busy taking stock and only vaguely noted that Cass stood still and wide-eyed as he worked.
It didn’t take him long to identify the markers Russ had left behind.
Auctori mages were known for being sly and tricky, part and parcel of wielding a magic that relied on manipulating a person’s perception until it matched what the mage wanted their victim to believe.
Their initial cast could easily go undetected, but once it found an anchor and went to work, a skilled Key could spot the differences.
Grayson pinpointed the small dark knots currently fucking with his head.
Either Russ had been rushed, or he was a half-assed mage.
Either way, the magical lines of influence scraped across Grayson’s nerve endings, and outrage at the blatant violation surged, turning the flickering red of his protection spell into a pulsating deep ruby.
As a Key, this kind of thing shouldn’t happen to him, but there had been other things on his mind, so he hadn’t noticed the insidious tendrils setting up shop.
He shoved down his anger to deal with later and concentrated on unraveling the lures Russ had set.
They weren’t deep and were barely holding on, which explained his headache and prickly attitude with Cass.
He made quick work of unraveling the distorted knots before incinerating them to nothing.
Only then did he go in and reinforce his personal protections, determined not to give the asshole another shot.
When he was done, he opened his eyes and found Cass sitting outside the circle across from him, her expression serene as the glow of magic danced between them. “Everything okay?”
“It is now.” The dull ache in his head was gone, and so was his earlier irritation. In its place was a grim determination fueled by an underlying fury that wasn’t going away anytime soon. “You were right.”
He expected a flash of satisfaction at his admission. Instead, her expression didn’t change. He touched a rune by his hip and pulled his magic back. The lines of power faded and then winked out, but he didn’t move from his position. “What does he gain by turning me against you?”
A frown marred her brow, and she tapped her fingers on her knee. “Distraction. If I’m busy arguing with you, I won’t keep pushing Sofia.”
“So if he’s arrogant enough to try to manipulate a Key, why wouldn’t he just cut out the middleman and go straight to fucking with you?”
Her lips curved, and her eyes hardened, giving her face a merciless cast. “Because Oracles have a natural resistance to magical manipulation. Fate’s a bitch, and She’s not inclined to bend for anyone, nor does She like people interfering with Her mouthpieces.”
Uh, learn something new. “And you’re sure he didn’t mess with you?”
Warmth chased away Cass’s cold edges, leaving a genuine grin in its wake. “I’m sure.”
Not fully convinced, Grayson held out his hand in silent invitation.
She shook her head but got to her feet and took his hand.
He kept hold as she stepped carefully across the lines until he had her where he wanted her.
He pulled her down so she was sitting in front of him, their knees touching as they mirrored each other.
He claimed her other hand and then held both as he unfurled his magic, reigniting the lines. “Ready?”
She nodded.
The red tendrils curled around her with a slow grace, and he sank into his power, studying the woman before him.
Searching another person for possible curses meant studying their magical fabric for any unnatural imperfections.
In the simplest terms, it was like examining a unique coat for tiny rips and tears, but first, you had to learn what the coat was supposed to look like.
He let go of her hands and lifted his to hover just above the crown of her head. He watched her intriguing eyes widen.
“Your eyes…” she said.
They were probably glowing in that freaky way they did when he opened the throttle on his magic. “It’s all good,” he reassured her. “Ready?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed, but she gave him a decisive nod.
He moved his hands apart and swept them down either side of her at a slow, steady pace.
Cass’s coat came together in his mind with a wash of silver, gold, and stormy white gray.
The colors were ever shifting, like a churning sea.
The constant movement made it difficult to find things that didn’t belong.
Absently, he noted a few spots where her magical material appeared to have been mended.
He gently brushed a metaphoric hand over those imperfections, testing them even as Cass’s breath hitched.
When they resisted his touch, he moved on, searching intently, but nothing appeared out of place.
When he was sure she was clear, he pulled back, his power once again draining away.
He sat there, holding her hands in his, as they stared at each other in the quiet.
She was the first to speak. “You feel better now?” The question carried a gentle tease.
“I do.”
She squeezed his hands. “Good.” She let him go, got to her feet, and held her hand out. “Come on. Let’s clean this up.”
He let her pull him up, and they cleaned up the circle and put the living room back together. Cass was preparing to gather up her cards when he stopped her. “You didn’t finish telling me the rest of the reading.”
“There’s not much left to share.” From the top of the four-card column, she picked up a gold-washed card of a man in chains, hanging upside down. “The outcome. Prometheus, the Hanged Man. Basically just confirms that the future is uncertain and we need to watch for a new path to present itself.”
Not exactly helpful, but then again, divination never offered clear answers. He touched the card now topping the column. “This one?” When she shot him a worried frown, he asked, “What?”
“Out of all the cards, this tends to be the most challenging to read.”
“Why?”
“It’s supposed to address the hopes or fears surrounding the question, but sometimes it can represent both.”
He studied the gold-laced full moon that rose behind a white-haired woman, her face half shadowed, her gaze contemplative. “Selene.”
“The Moon card.” She picked it up and studied it. “Considering all the other factors at play, my guess is she represents the fear of losing the ability to choose.”
He didn’t like how his stomach tightened at the implication. “That makes sense, especially if Russ has no issues about exploiting others.”
“No wonder Mother and Father like him,” she muttered as she tucked the card into the deck. She reached for the last card sitting above the Hanging Man, but he got there first.
“What about this one?” He picked up the card showing a blond woman crowned by black roses, her arms filled with pomegranates and roses.
Cass cleared her throat. “Persephone, the High Priestess.” She went to take the card from him.
He held onto it and took in Cass’s flushed face as she avoided his eyes. “And in this position?”
“She represents the external influences.” She tugged on the card, but when he continued to hold it, she finally met his gaze.
“She’s you,” he guessed.
Cass gave him a small, hesitant nod.
The flash of vulnerability tugged at him. “Tell me about her.” It was a gentle demand, but a demand nevertheless.
She dropped her eyes to the card he held, her thumb brushing over the image.
“She’s the epitome of duality, representing a highly intuitive person, someone who offers whispers of wisdom to guide others.
She’s more than she appears.” Cass met his gaze and held it, a war brewing in the depths of her gold-shot eyes.
“She can also be someone who is emotionally cold, unable to maintain deep connections for fear of being hurt, and she can easily disconnect from the world around her.”
He understood her warning, but no one got to their age without picking up a few dents and dings. “No one is all one thing, Cass. That’s the beauty of personal choice. We get to choose who we are and how we move through this world. Not everything is set in stone.” He let the card go.
“Oh, trust me, I’m well aware of that.” Her admission was weighty with experience. Cass tucked the card into the deck. “But sometimes those choices only lead to one end, no matter which road we take.”