“Have you consulted your deity?” He sounded flat, the sound of notes being counted in the background never once faltering.
“Excuse me if I don’t think the mother of fucking creation is going to be behind me figuring out what kind of sacrifice I need to make in order to counter a human sacrifice,” I gritted out.
He remained silent, which only made me fume more.
“Or perhaps I should find a gaggle of nuns and offer them up as a sacrifice? Would you like that? I could even sign the sacrifice off with the Club’s signature.”
“You’re being dramatic, Corinne,” Charl tried to placate me through the line, but his sentiments only made me angrier.
“I’m being dramatic!” I hissed, “I’m here by my fucking self dealing with darker Magick than we’ve ever played with and I’m being dramatic? And every card reading I do for myself shows me that our Club is heading for some sort of Magickal war!”
“You think I don’t know we’re in the midst of a war!” Charl countered back and his vehemence caught me off guard.
“I’ve seen things that you can only dream about, so just keep your pretty little head on track and do the job you’ve been assigned,” he barked.
“Well maybe if you shared your visions with us when shit like this cropped up, we wouldn’t be so dramatic.”
I could feel his eye roll over the phone.
“Corinne, this job was assigned to you for various reasons. We need allies in this world that are bigger and badder than our normal clientele. If you’re not going to do the job, just tell me and leave, but right now, you’re like a drunk on a pogo stick - you’re all over the place and I can’t tell if you’re staying there or walking out of the Club entirely. Your threads are all confused - all muddled.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I spat, “I’m supposed to be looking to Dimitri as an ally? Firstly, this is the first time I’ve heard about this and secondly - the man fucking hates me.”
Charl sighed again. He fucking sighed again. I gripped my phone, willing my temper to cool.
“Call Zoey up and ask her for some assistance on dealing with the Voodoo Priestess. Say what you like, but you sound more alive than I’ve heard you sound in years. Maybe blood sacrifice suits you?”
“I fucking hate you, Charl,” I growled.
His answering laughter was the last thing I heard before I hung up the phone.
I stared at my phone in dismay. Sure I was aggravated and sleep deprived. Last night, after the club, I had gone to bed needy and achy and confused, but I didn’t think I was being dramatic about how bad this situation was. I wasn’t sure you could get much worse than reading cards for the mafia, only to wake up and discover that their rival had employed a Voodoo Priestess that you were suddenly up against.
I dialled Zoey and thankfully she picked up on the first ring.
“Hey,” she sounded out of breath.
Why don’t you just leave?My inner voice questioned me, prodding answers from me that I wasn’t yet ready to give. I shut my eyes at the onslaught of tears that began to build.
“What are you doing?” I asked, needing any sort of distraction before I had to explain what the hell I was dealing with.
“I tried that new yoga class I was telling you about,” she sounded distracted, but still managed to talk through whatever errand now held her attention, “Oh and I sent a batch of eucalyptus to you so that you can hang it in your shower - it’s good for steaming.”
My lips tugged up involuntarily as she rattled off. Few people were as pure of heart as Zoey was. I counted myself lucky to have a friend like her.
“So,” I cut in, knowing that she understood that this wasn’t a social call, “I’m dealing with a Voodoo Priestess that keyed in the death of someone as an activation to a business success spell of some sort.”
Her silence spoke louder than anything she could say. I heard the wind whistle around her and knew that she had probably come to a dead standstill. Zoey was always in movement, so when she was still, you knew that something was gravely wrong.
“What does Charl say?” her voice sounded strained.
My stomach hollowed out. I wasn’t being dramatic - this was bad - very bad. Immediately the tension in my shoulders eased - because Zoey had listened to me - not just heard me - and she also thought that the situation was all kinds of messed up, and that just reminded me that my instincts were hardly ever off - despite Charl’s patronization.
But just as swiftly, my anxiety hiked straight back up again because being right was somehow worse than being called dramatic.
“He said to call you and decide the best way to counter it,” I offered lamely.
“He didn’t call in reinforcements?” Zoey’s shock reverberated down the line.