I was wasting time. I swallowed my fears and headed to the staircase on the other side of the warehouse.
By the time I reached the second floor, Bartholomew was back at his computer station. Constantine was napping on top of the couch. I started talking even before I reached them.
“What have you done to me? I’m broken. For the past four hours, I’ve been seeing things. The world looks weird. This headache won’t go away. This is all your fault. I was fine before I got here last night.”
Constantine jumped up. I guessed he wasn’t used to waking up to screaming girls.
“Wow. Do you normally talk that fast?” He yawned lazily.
Bartholomew just looked over his shoulder and kept working.
“When I’m mad or nervous.” I sounded like a five-year-old. It was unnerving, but I was sure Constantine could see into my soul.
“Good to know. Now, one more time. This time slowly, and from the beginning. What’s going on?” He laid his head on his paws and stared at me very closely. Note to self: never get into a staring contest with Constantine—I would lose badly.
“I’m going mad. I saw a guy with wings. Not the fake kind but honest-to-goodness wings.”
At that Constantine’s head snapped to attention, and this time he was fully awake. Bartholomew also stopped what he was doing and was staring at me.
“Constantine, is that possible? It’s way too early.” Bartholomew sounded worried, and Constantine looked at him in silence. It’s really hard to read emotions in a cat.
“Where were you, Isis?” Constantine was back to staring at me with those penetrating eyes. I hadn’t noticed, but Constantine had a blue eye and a green eye. At least he wasn’t a black cat. I would bet money that he thought his stripes made him a tiger.
“I was working at Abuelita’s.” Didn’t they know I had job?
“That explains it. Abuelita’s is the Starbucks of the supernatural community in this area, without the coffee.” Constantine was nuts. That did not explain a thing to me.
“OK, little Yoda, what are you talking about?” I was not a patient person at times.
“Your third eye has opened. It didn’t help being around so many magical beings all at once. But Bartholomew is right—it is very early.” I probably looked totally lost, because Constantine kept talking. “When Death kissed you, she transferred some of her powers to you. Typical part of the process. A very small amount, nothing major. But now you are able to see the other side. It should have taken weeks, if not months.”
“Constantine, Death marked her the night she killed Teck. It’s been six months.” Bartholomew delivered that line very seriously. It sounded like a death sentence, no pun intended.
“Third eye, like in the chakras’ third eye? Never mind; it doesn’t matter. I haven’t agreed to any of this. Can you just make it go away?” I was ready to beg.
“You are correct. It is your frontochakra. One of the seven main ones. Unfortunately, no. Once it’s open, you can’t make it go away. I can help you control it.” Constantine was looking up at me from the couch.
“It sucks. When you see them, they acknowledge you as well. I avoid the outside world as much as possible for that reason. Besides…” Bartholomew’s computer beeped, and he turned back around without finishing his sentence.
“OK, let’s get this lesson going. Sit over here and face me.” Constantine took on a very authoritarian air.
I had nothing to lose, so I followed orders. At times I could still do that very well, just not as often as I should have.
“So why are you two not glowing?” I asked Constantine after I settled down.
“I’m a talking cat. What else do you want to see?” He did have a valid point.
“A very old, talking, magical cat, for that matter,” muttered Bartholomew from his seat.
“OK, you’re right about how impressive a talking cat is. But what about Bartholomew?”
“You haven’t actually looked at him. Go ahead and do it.” I was starting to dislike that he was right so often. “Isis, it’s going to be OK. Just look at him.”
I took another deep breath and looked up. He looked the same. He had a slight blue glow around him, but other than that, he looked normal.
“What do you see?” Constantine asked, fairly patiently for a cat.
“Just a blue haze over him.” I looked at Constantine for confirmation.
“Good. All you’re seeing is his aura. Most of Death’s interns and the guardians he chooses have a bluish aura. Around other interns, guardians, and Bartholomew, you will see only auras. Same as most humans.” Constantine scratched his ear. It was creepy how normal he looked at times.
“Wait—Death is a woman.” I was pretty sure it had been a woman who had completely messed up my life last night. Why was that such an important fact for me, above all things?
“Death is whatever your mind and soul decides it is. You’ve spent a long time courting death. Death to you looks like an old friend.”
My mouth was hanging open.
“Death is a woman for me, too, Isis. I think it’s because we’re both orphans. We see her as a parental figure.” Bartholomew’s explanation was even more disturbing than Constantine’s.
“You’re procrastinating. Can we start?” Constantine was annoyed.
“Is it going to hurt?” I was stalling. But hey, this was scary stuff.
“Did it hurt when it opened?”
I gave him a confused look.
“If you can’t remember, then probably no. Pay attention now.” Not the most convincing argument, but I stopped fighting. “OK, close your eyes and visualize a window between your eyes. This window has large curtains on either side. You want to mentally close
