It took me a moment before I realized that he was actually biting down on his laughter as he watched me traipse around my hotel room, throwing items of clothing back in my bag. I refused to give him a reaction, turning my back on him, I continued to pack. I had had enough of self centered men for the night. The sooner I packed, the sooner we could get going. The sooner we could get going, the sooner I could start on their protection. And, the sooner I could start on their protection, the sooner I could wrap this entire process up and go home.
“All done?” he asked with a bit more seriousness. I sighed, the gravity of the situation settling on both of us once more.
“Yeah,” I gestured towards the exit and I was taken aback as Dimitri bent down and grabbed my bags.
For the most part, the hallway in the hotel was quiet - no surprises there at this time in New Orleans. Everyone was either still out, or they were tucked away snuggly in bed. There was never an in-between moment in this city. The silence stretched awkwardly between us as Dimitri and I stood waiting for the elevator doors to open up. Being within this close proximity to him was disorientating. He pulsed with danger and something subtly sensual, and I found myself wanting to step closer towards him, to breathe him in, and flee simultaneously. Dimitri, with his ever present need to be in control, refused to let me call the hotel staff to carry my luggage to the car.
Once the elevator doors finally slid open, taking our reflections with it, Dimitri turned towards me, ushering me inside.
“I don’t know how your organisation thinks that you can help us,” he crowded me into the corner, glaring at me as he seethed, “after seeing you pack that bag of yours, I know that you’re a princess playing at being a Vedman.”
I blinked, feeling raw, exposed, and like a fraud. He inched closer, taking up the small amount of space that was left between us, “That means Witch, by the way.”
He narrowed his gaze on me further, and I struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny. “You are a privileged, pampered princess that may get a kick out of being part of your little Club. Maybe it makes you feel a little wild, unleashed, even. But,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I am not about to stand around and watch you play cards at the expense of my family.”
He emphasized those last two words with a rough jab of his finger to my chest.
Dimitri couldn’t possibly know that in that one sentence, he had flayed me, bringinging all my old insecurities to the surface. I didn’t have the heritage of Salem to fall back on like Brenna, or a Hoodoo grandmother like Zoey. I came from a world that was so foreign to Magick that my two lives seemed as if they were oil and water, content to float apart from one another, despite being in the same damn jug.
My hands moved of their own accord as I shoved him away from me. My forceful shove did nothing to move the ogre standing before me, and it was only after a strained moment that he decided to take a step backwards, giving me an inch of space once more.
“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” I spat.
“Don’t I?” he smirked at me, and that action was infuriating. Everything about him was infuriating. “You and I are the same, Princess,” his voice was low, almost seductive, “everything about us is a front.”
I shivered as his words ran through me.
“Yes,” he continued, his voice dripping with disdain, “I saw that grin you gave that Voodoo bitch and it was a battle cry if there ever was one, but,” he paused on that word, holding my gaze, “my family - my men will not be collateral damage because you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. Bravado will only get you so far.”
“And,” he bent forward, his lips almost brushing the shell of my ear, “it will be your false bravado that will bring war upon your Club - not mine.”
The elevator doors opened and I watched Dimitri’s face shutter, void of any emotion as he stepped out, leading the way. Left with no other choice, I followed Dimitri out into the warm air. Arlo sat waiting, none the wiser, and I sighed, ignoring the way that Dimitri’s words had settled under my skin. He doubted my Magickal abilities, assuming that I was simply some rich princess playing at being a Witch.
Was he wrong?
I refused to examine that thought further, the lull of the car dragging me deeper into my thoughts until we pulled up outside their compound, the driver sliding the Cadillac neatly back into his position beside the sidewalk.
I didn’t have time to linger on Dimitri’s words and explore the depths of my self doubt, I needed to read my cards and decipher what the hell was going on, and I needed to address the important matter of protection. Dimitri withdrew to his usual cold demeanor, whilst Arlo thanked me profusely before retiring for the night.
The stern looking housekeeper emerged, hurrying me along to my room, passing through the house in a blur. Her face was long and drawn, her dark hair pulled back so tightly that I was almost certain that once she released it, a few more wrinkles would appear on her brow. She made sure to point out that Dimitri’s room lay directly opposite mine, and I couldn’t help but feel that that information had been spoken in more of a warning than the mere notion of sharing information and ensuring I understood the house’s layout.
I didn’t know how I felt about Dimitri being within such close proximity, but tonight I certainly didn’t need any more distractions.
The room was lush, comfortable, and much larger than I had expected. A row of white french doors opened up onto a large balcony that I imagined looked over a garden. With the humidity pressing in, I was loath to step outside. The cream sheets were warm and inviting against the large king-sized bed. Some rose gold pillows were scattered across the bed, adding to the warmth and appeal of the entire place. In fact, the room boasted a femine quality to it. My stomach dipped as I wondered if Dimitri’s wife or girlfriend was responsible for the interior warmth of the place. A pang of unease raced through me and I quickly quelled those thoughts and notions. It didn’t matter, whether Dimitri had a wife or girlfriend was of no consequence to me or the job I had undertaken here.
Where were Dimitri's parents in all this?
Held in the arms of death.
My guides whispered back to me. The loss of someone sometimes shapes you more as a person than actually having them around. Was that the case with Dimitri?
I pulled out some warm pyjamas, even though it was a warm summer night. I always grounded myself before connecting, but often during reading cards and practicing Magick. I lost myself to the thrill of it all and often forgot to continually ensure that I was grounded throughout. The end result of this was usually my body temperature dropping and me freezing my butt off. Grounding ensured that I drew energy from around me when working Magick and didn't just deplete my own energy and reserves. It required me to draw from the earth continually, and once I had finished conducting my Magick, to then release any excess energy that I may be holding onto back into the ether. Not grounding during intervals of conducting Magick left me cold, shivering, and often unaware.
It was something that Charl continuously moaned at me about,and he was right. I did try to ground continuously, but I also knew that I had a tendency to get so lost in the Magick that my own personal well being faded into the background, the task at hand swallowing up the importance of me. So when I touched the wildness of Magick, allowed myself to toy with my connection to the ether, I wore cozy pjs as a precaution, regardless of the weather.
I sat in the middle of the bed, the soft sheets felt heavenly as I ran my palms across the covers. I pulled out my blue wrap, unravelling my cards carefully. Tingles reverberated through my fingertips where I touched the cards. The imagery on them beckoning me in ways unexplainable. My deck featured tattooed Kings and Queens, and I liked to think that those tattoos tethered all things ethereal to this world in some form. The tattoos themselves reminded me of sigils, evoking Magick and sheer willpower. The two often worked hand-in-hand, and I had no doubt that you could be as Magickally gifted as they came, but unless you honed your craft, your Magick would fall short, presenting itself only in moments of volatility.
Thinking of the Voodoo Priestess, the burlesque club, Dimitri, Arlo, and their various ‘business arrangements,’ I allowed my mind to wander, seeking out all options that perhaps Dimitri himself had not thought of.