cross,” I whispered.
“It’s going to tell us your story,” she said, her black eyes glowing like hot coals. “There is so much to learn.”
She studied the configuration for a moment. Her mouth began to harden, and the faint bit of color she had in her cheeks drained away. “This can’t be right,” she muttered, and picked up the deck to reshuffle. She laid the cards again to the same outcome.
“Who are you?” she demanded, grabbing my hands. “The center is yours but the rest are mine. I did the same reading earlier.”
I tried to yank my hands away from her but she held fast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“I’m going to ask you again,” she said, her voice holding an unspoken threat. “Who in the hell are you?”
“Breeda Fergus.”
“You’re looking for him, too, aren’t you, Breeda Fergus?” She clutched harder, her nails digging into my skin. “The question is, have you found him yet?”
The magic leapt within me, fear and anger prodding it to act. “Please release me,” I begged.
“You will tell me!” she shouted.
The last bit of hold I had on the magic broke. I felt a rush and the flames lifted from the candles, gathering into balls of fire. They careened wildly around the room, my control completely gone.
Seralina dropped my hands and screamed, covering her face. I tried to focus, tried to ignore the knifelike pains stabbing at my lungs, but I couldn’t. My limbs went numb and I fell forward, hitting the coffee table with a thud and sliding onto the pristine white carpet.
“Let it go, Breeda.” Shelley’s voice. She stood on the marble platform, her right hand grasping her talisman. Ion’s gaze darted about, following the smoky trails left by the ricocheting balls of fire.
“Clear your mind,” Shelley said, her voice oddly calm. “Please. I can’t fight you.”
I couldn’t do what she’d asked. Images stampeded through my brain like a herd of wild bulls. I caught one—my mother singing while she did the spring planting—and held it, living in the peaceful slice of my past for one brief, glorious moment.
“That’s it,” Shelley said. The flames separated, hovering for a moment before returning to the candles. Tendrils of smoke wafted toward the open balcony door and disappeared into the late-morning breeze.
I took in the shocked faces around me. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Don’t be,” Seralina retorted after composing herself. “At least now I know you aren’t totally defenseless against Gavin.”
I glanced at Shelley, whose mouth dropped open like a hatch door. With difficulty, I forced myself to focus on the tarot cards. “So you’re after Gavin, too?”
Seralina nodded. “For some time now.”
Ion slammed the door to the balcony shut. “Why does he have to ruin everything?” he asked his mother. “Why is he punishing me?”
“Because he only thinks of himself,” Seralina answered coldly. “You know that.”
“Ion?” Shelley asked, saying his name gently. “What’s going on?”
“My father is an asshole,” Ion answered, his voice cracking. “Which is why I can’t transition.”
“I’m confused,” I said. “Could you explain—”
“We can,” Ion said. “But only after you tell us how you sent that fire flying around without touching your talisman.”
All eyes froze on the useless stone hanging from my neck.
Seralina smoothed down her kimono. “Darling,” she said, turning her intense gaze to me, “we obviously have a lot to discuss.”
Chapter 8
“P oint me toward the kitchen,” Shelley said quickly. “I need to make her a tisane.”
“I’ll show you where it is,” Ion said. “Not that I could help you with anything, being totally useless and all. I’m like a witch eunuch, an empty—”
“You are acting like a child,” Seralina said sharply. “Just take her to the kitchen.”
Ion led Shelley down a narrow passageway at the far end of the room. He looked back at me
“It’s going to tell us your story,” she said, her black eyes glowing like hot coals. “There is so much to learn.”
She studied the configuration for a moment. Her mouth began to harden, and the faint bit of color she had in her cheeks drained away. “This can’t be right,” she muttered, and picked up the deck to reshuffle. She laid the cards again to the same outcome.
“Who are you?” she demanded, grabbing my hands. “The center is yours but the rest are mine. I did the same reading earlier.”
I tried to yank my hands away from her but she held fast. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“I’m going to ask you again,” she said, her voice holding an unspoken threat. “Who in the hell are you?”
“Breeda Fergus.”
“You’re looking for him, too, aren’t you, Breeda Fergus?” She clutched harder, her nails digging into my skin. “The question is, have you found him yet?”
The magic leapt within me, fear and anger prodding it to act. “Please release me,” I begged.
“You will tell me!” she shouted.
The last bit of hold I had on the magic broke. I felt a rush and the flames lifted from the candles, gathering into balls of fire. They careened wildly around the room, my control completely gone.
Seralina dropped my hands and screamed, covering her face. I tried to focus, tried to ignore the knifelike pains stabbing at my lungs, but I couldn’t. My limbs went numb and I fell forward, hitting the coffee table with a thud and sliding onto the pristine white carpet.
“Let it go, Breeda.” Shelley’s voice. She stood on the marble platform, her right hand grasping her talisman. Ion’s gaze darted about, following the smoky trails left by the ricocheting balls of fire.
“Clear your mind,” Shelley said, her voice oddly calm. “Please. I can’t fight you.”
I couldn’t do what she’d asked. Images stampeded through my brain like a herd of wild bulls. I caught one—my mother singing while she did the spring planting—and held it, living in the peaceful slice of my past for one brief, glorious moment.
“That’s it,” Shelley said. The flames separated, hovering for a moment before returning to the candles. Tendrils of smoke wafted toward the open balcony door and disappeared into the late-morning breeze.
I took in the shocked faces around me. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Don’t be,” Seralina retorted after composing herself. “At least now I know you aren’t totally defenseless against Gavin.”
I glanced at Shelley, whose mouth dropped open like a hatch door. With difficulty, I forced myself to focus on the tarot cards. “So you’re after Gavin, too?”
Seralina nodded. “For some time now.”
Ion slammed the door to the balcony shut. “Why does he have to ruin everything?” he asked his mother. “Why is he punishing me?”
“Because he only thinks of himself,” Seralina answered coldly. “You know that.”
“Ion?” Shelley asked, saying his name gently. “What’s going on?”
“My father is an asshole,” Ion answered, his voice cracking. “Which is why I can’t transition.”
“I’m confused,” I said. “Could you explain—”
“We can,” Ion said. “But only after you tell us how you sent that fire flying around without touching your talisman.”
All eyes froze on the useless stone hanging from my neck.
Seralina smoothed down her kimono. “Darling,” she said, turning her intense gaze to me, “we obviously have a lot to discuss.”
Chapter 8
“P oint me toward the kitchen,” Shelley said quickly. “I need to make her a tisane.”
“I’ll show you where it is,” Ion said. “Not that I could help you with anything, being totally useless and all. I’m like a witch eunuch, an empty—”
“You are acting like a child,” Seralina said sharply. “Just take her to the kitchen.”
Ion led Shelley down a narrow passageway at the far end of the room. He looked back at me
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