If I did, and they did manage to make it through the night, I could never face them again.
Fear warred with my resolve. I’d never done anything like this; had never killed anyone before yesterday. But I had to make a choice. Did I sit here, regret it, and wallow in my self-pity?
Or did I move the fuck on?
Did Cian care if he killed someone? Did Yuna? Merric obviously did not, and apparently didn’t see why I did either.
He was right, I reasoned. My wolf hadn’t just decided to crunch their bones for no reason. They’d kidnapped me, with intentions of keeping me there against my will. I hadn’t been convinced I’d ever be able to leave, with Colette in charge. What was to stop her from keeping me in the coven?
The memories from my tantrum in the forest were hazy and rushed; it was difficult to remember everything when my wolf took over.
Ideally, that part of me never took over.
But hadn’t that helped me? Hadn’t the white-hot rage of my werewolf gotten me out of the witches’ lair and back home so I could warn-and help-my friends?
Maybe the iron control I held over my wolf, enough to push her down at most times and keep those emotions carefully in control, wasn’t the right way.
But that was another problem for another day. I wasn’t going to consider any lifestyle changes until this crisis had been averted.
I could hear Aveline in the kitchen rustling about the cabinets and banging a few of them. As she seemed pretty immersed in whatever she was doing, I was able to pad quickly back to my room. The tv volume blared, a weather reporter talking about strange weather patterns of the northeast. What was with all the weather reports recently?
Aveline didn’t approve of my actions. It stung, but at this point was reasonable. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t work for me. She didn’t need to help, I supposed, but she wasn’t going to stop me.
Once I’d toweled off, I pulled clothes from my closet: snug jeans, a loose tank top, and flat boots that laced to my knees.
I wasn’t trying to ‘stick to theme,’ as Cian had called it, but as most of my clothes were black, it was hard to put much variation in my outfits. Finally I pulled on fingerless gloves and a scarf that fit snugly around my neck and could be pulled up over my mouth and nose.
My still-wet hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail. I hated the feeling of it brushing my shoulders, but It didn’t matter; this was the most convenient and I didn’t want to spend time drying it.
I grabbed my thigh bag from the bedside table and dumped the contents onto the floor before sinking down next to its contents.
Both decks fell out, and I shoved everything else to the side before snatching my favorite.
After a brief hesitation, I picked up two crystals and dumped them on the floor in front of me.
Pulling the deck from its box, I tapped my fingers against the heavy cards, doing so pointedly and channeling my magic into them.
I needed them to be as accurate as possible today.
Next, I put my hands over the crystals. While I was no geomancer or particularly skilled using crystals, I knew how to use them to channel.
I flooded them with magic, feeling the power leave my hands in waves of small, pulsing shocks across my skin.
When I put them on the floor on either side of my deck, they resonated with each other, the amethyst mineral lit from within.
Between them, all magic was caught and sent back into the spell I was working. Or, in this case, the reading.
Next, I shuffled my deck. First the mortal way, then I held my hands to the side, movements careful, and drew the cards between them, overlapping, and shuffled them again.
While I was not telekinetic, these cards held so much of me in them that I could call them to my hand, just like calling back a piece of myself. Any experienced reader with a favored deck could do the same.
Biting my lip, I spread the cards in an arc in front of me and focused on my question; pressing it to the forefront of my mind and envisioning my request just behind my eyes.
There were many three card spreads in Tarot that I had learned. Past, Present, Future was perhaps the most known and the most practiced, but it wouldn’t serve me here.
Instead, I had another in mind. One where the three cards represented where the universe wanted me to be, the personal qualities required, and what awaited me at my destination.
Unfortunately, Tarot readings weren’t an ask and ye shall receive step-by-step-instructions deal. This kind of magic, or any magic really, didn’t operate in such black and white terms.
I would have to bend the reading to suit my needs, and work to see what was important, and what was not.
The card backs were plain in my sight, for the most part. Normally I was content to pull something that piqued my interest and go from there, but this time I focused on Cian’s smile, on Akiva’s laugh, on Indra’s kindness. I willed thoughts of them into my cards as if to impart their importance on the faceless objects.
A long, slow breath left me.
Where the Universe wanted me to be.
The card backs stared stoically up at me, patterns of moons and stars swirled over the dark surface. Except one. One of them, to me, seemed to just be a bit more present. Like it was pushed out of my relatively even spread suggestively.
I don’t belong here, the card seemed to whisper to me as I turned my gaze to it.
Immediately I slid it out of the pile and to a spot above the left side of the spread.
What personal Qualities would I require?
This time, there was no card that seemed to try to inch its way out of the
