“Where’s your cauldron and broomstick?” He winked again, diffusing some tension while stirring a different sort between her legs.
“Who knows? When it comes to domesticity, I’m pretty much trash.” A well-timed joke had its place, such as strategic application of self-deprecation used to lighten an encounter.
He chuckled, tipping a finger at her. “You can take the piss. I like you. Do you believe her claims?”
“About being a witch?”
Brian nodded, slipping back into his practiced countenance of neutrality.
“Yes. I’ve had visions for most of my life. The woman I saw seemed to know about them and proved she could read my mind. She convinced me.”
Brian set his cup down and ran the tip of his tongue back and forth over his top teeth. “What do you see in the visions?”
“The ancient past, like the European witch hunts. I’ve flown through air and seen what seems like different parts of the country or world. It’s hard to explain. Like an out-of-body experience, I guess.”
“Flying through the air. So you’re familiar with remote viewing I take it?” His question was pointed.
She’d heard of the phenomenon but hadn’t studied remote viewing with any sort of intention or dedication, which he seemed to insinuate. And more to the point, why did the subject of remote viewing pique Brian’s interest? “Somewhat. Why?”
“What’s about to happen that’s so terrible?” His syllables crisped. Brian searched behind her eyes. She didn’t blame the man for his directness, straightforward questions, or hesitance.
Others would have laughed and dismissed her as a nut. Still others would have reacted with fear and told her to get lost. Brian, on the other hand, sought facts and information from a level-headed, calm place. Suited him, or what she knew of his personality. He’d steered the conversation away from remote viewing for a reason. She ought not to press the issue and risk alienating him. They already treaded tricky ground, maneuvered around land mines.
“After I gave you that first clear crystal, I saw a cloud of smoke I’d seen before. I think there might be a force attached, an entity without the best of intentions.” She didn’t need to spill every single detail. Not yet, at least. Best to keep Brian close, and an excess of alarming information about hexes and voices in her head could backfire.
He knocked back what remained of his drink, walked the glass to the kitchen, and set it down. Bracing his hands on the counter, Brian sighed. “The thing I don’t understand is why, as you say, you gave me the stone for positive energy and a good show, but then a bad entity shows up.”
“I don’t fully understand either.” Fully was such a weasel word. She was holding back big chunks of the truth. But what would unfiltered honesty accomplish? If she freaked Brian out, odds were she’d never see him again. He had to be a difficult man to get to, and she wasn’t tight with his staff by any means. “Do you have any idea where the first one might have gone?”
“Do you?” he fired back in less than a second, his reply not aggressive but toeing the border of an accusation. Brian wasn’t dumb. He knew she was hiding things.
Sensing she’d been moved to some category designated for suspicious people, Helen loosened the reins on a bit more of the story and proceeded with caution. “I think so. Earlier at the fair I overheard Joe on the phone. He mentioned summoning and forces, energies, and Wyoming. A book and a vessel came up as well. I think the vessel in question might be the original crystal.”
“You just so happened to stumble across Joe saying all of this?” Dragging out the syllables of his dry speech, he rinsed his glass and set the tumbler in a rack.
“Yes. I did.”
Brian stood still, his stare distracted. The effect was uncanny and sad, like his outward expression resulted from inner labor to spackle over whatever machinations went on in his head.
Watching Brian Shepherd locked in a struggle with whether to open or close, whether to lower his wall or buttress his defenses, she connected with how weird, how squirmy in the most existential of ways, being famous must feel.
Plenty of creeps angled and leveraged and schemed to exploit the celebrity of others for personal gain. In her estimation, having to forsake the ability to let one’s guard down would be crazymaking. Especially with someone like Joe having breached Brian’s inner circle.
She took her peace and relative invisibility for granted and wouldn’t trade it for all of the Yogi Tea in Whole Foods. “What are you thinking about?”
“I don’t buy it.” His response popped out in a snap, though his voice trembled. “You want him out of the picture for some reason. Why? To assume his place at my right hand? Easy access to whisper influence in my ear? Put spells on me?”
Shit. He was degenerating into paranoia, some self-defense mechanism. Concern for Brian trumped any impulse to get annoyed or offended by his implications, though. Over the course of his life in the spotlight of fame, he’d no doubt been burned by many a malicious goblin.
She joined him behind the kitchen island and offered an assuring touch above his elbow. “No, I’m not gunning for leverage over you. I’m going to figure out more, but if I had to guess, I’d say he knows the same witch I went to. Or he’s a member of a coven with a big tent, one that’s connected to her. I know it’s hard, I know I sound like a lunatic, but please believe me when I say I care and want to help. And to do so, I need that first clear crystal. Can you work with me to help us recover it from Joe?”
Brian lobbed
