The Emperor (The Tarot Club 2)

“Charl.” His name was a plea, because I needed him to be okay.

“When is the wedding?” His voice was suddenly lucid, and the fist around my heart unclenched slightly.

The laughter bubbled out of me. “Was that your plan the whole time? Get me to marry the Pakhan of the Bratva?”

“Better than the men your mother had lined up for you.”

And this was it - Charl was always five steps ahead of any of us. His genius was maddeningly infuriating, but it still did nothing to allay my fears.

“The Voodoo Priestess and her people have threatened us.” I spoke carefully - clearly so that Charl didn’t miss a single word I said.

Silence greeted me by way of reply, and for a moment, I hoped that Charl would live up to the title and pull out a Magickal rabbit out his hat - something to swoop in and fix everything.

“Are your people protected?” When he finally spoke, his question threw me, because it was not what I had expected - if anything, it was simply confirmation of what was to come.

“What are you doing with the Demons?” My voice rose with anger.

“What I have to.”

“Charl, I swear I love you, but I need you to stop being so cryptic right now. What the fuck are we doing with Demons? What are you orchestrating?”

He inhaled sharply at my accusation and that was how I knew I spoke the truth.

“I’m doing what I need to.” His tone was imploring. “I will tell you everything at your wedding.”

“I don’t even know if there will be a wedding - he hasn’t even asked me.” I hurled the words down the line, a blade of truth that hurt even to say.

“And even if he did, I don’t know if I would agree.”

“You will.” Charl’s voice boomed down the line. “I need you to trust me, Corinne, I have never led the Club astray.”

My tongue felt heavy in my mouth as I swallowed. “Why are we dealing with Demons, Charl? Are we summoning them? Using them? What exactly are we doing?” He asked for time, and I pushed back for answers anyway.

“Just keep your people safe and protected.”

“But the Club is safe and protected,” I snapped in frustration.

“Not the Club.” His voice wavered, as if his period of lucidity was almost over. “Your people. Look after the Bratva.”

He hung up before I could demand more answers from him, only leaving me feeling even more unsettled.

And Dimitri still hadn’t replied. He hadn’t even read my message.

After my phone call with Charl, somehow it made me more aware of my surroundings - more aware of what needed to be done. But the feeling of loss - of loneliness still niggled at the edge of consciousness, unwilling to unhinge its claws as it plunged deeper and deeper into my gut with each passing minute I didn’t hear from Dimitri.

I knew it was irrational, and it made me desperate and weak and all those iffy characteristics I had come to hate in the girls I had grown up with, and yet I couldn’t stop the ache - the irrational panic that squeezed my heart.

Dimitri. The Bratva. His Men. Charlain. The Club. My Parents. The Voodoo Priestess. A possible engagement. My future.

My thoughts swirled around in continuation, momentarily colliding in a way where the jagged pieces seemed to align, highlighting the full picture before shattering apart once more. It was always too quick to grasp. A kaleidoscopic movement that had me buckling at the knees and sinking into the plush carpet beneath me as one thought pushed its way to the forefront of my mind.

I needed to protect Dimitri’s men - my men, if the cards were to be believed.

The problem was I didn’t have any idea how large Dimitri’s organisation was. Did I need to protect twenty men? One hundred?

Why did Dimitri have to be so cagey when it came to dishing out information?

I sent Marie and Zoey each a message, asking them what Magick hacks they used when it came to bulk protection. I’d heard some of the others talk about Hearth Witch hacks that made things a tad easier for them, but under my mother’s watchful eye, it had never been applicable to me.