Entwined Destinies (9 page)

“I’m pretty sure I know what happened,” I tell Saffron. ”Mason and Sylvia feel everything at the same time. Powerful emotions in particular. It works no matter how far apart they are. So when I summoned Mason with the painting, I must have summoned Sylvia as well.”

“It sounds that way,” Saffron says. “Can’t be helped now. What are you going to do?”

“Well, these aren’t normal people. Mason and Sylvia share a supernatural bond. They’ve accepted that werewolves exist in the world. They know about magic and witches and enchanted trinkets.”

“They won’t take an easy lie over the hard truth, like normal people,” Saffron adds.

“Good point. A simple misdirection won’t work here. I don’t want them to even
suspect
I’m a witch.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear you say that, Jess. Everything we do relies on secrecy. Let’s not spoil that now, okay? Especially over a
fling
.”

That was meant to be a barb. Saffron can be so blunt sometimes.

I want to say that Mason isn’t a fling, that I love him, but I keep that sentiment to myself for now. Saffron is in no mood to hear it. Not today.

I’m starting to realize why Candice came out to see me in person. She was trying to protect me from Saffron’s wrath. My guess is that the eldest member of our triptych wasn’t impressed after I left the quicksilver pool half empty. I’m glad I replenished it a little before making this call. Saffron respects action, not words.

“Yes, of course,” I manage to say. “Secrecy above all else.”

Saffron sighs deeply.

“Okay, look. I don’t want to be unkind. Candice is right—you had no idea that casting spells would come this easily to you. Not without saying the words. We could have warned you about that. We didn’t. That’s on us. So really, I have no right to be such a grumpy old lady. My apologies, Jess. Shall we start again?”

“If you like, although I get where you’re coming from.”

“That’s all well and fine, but no excuse for my boorish behavior. Right then, tell me… what are you worried about exactly?”

“Sylvia is highly intelligent. I need to make sure that I can fool her convincingly. My wheelhouse is deceiving men, not women. It’s easy to convince a man that I’m somebody I’m not, but I’ve mostly done that with seduction. That’s why I called you for help. I have to be more cunning with Sylvia. I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Fair enough,” she says.

When in doubt, Saffron always responds well to flattery.

“Also, I’m really sorry about what happened. I
will
make it up to you. You and Candice both.”

“Think no more on it, child. Water under the bridge.”

“That’s kind of you, but I want you to know I still take my role as Maiden in the coven seriously, even if I am on leave right now.”

“Yes, yes. You’ve always been very accountable, Jess. Thank you. Now let’s consider your more immediate problem, okay?”

“I’m all ears.”

“The trick with intelligent people—with anybody, really—is to let them arrive at their own conclusions, but you can help them get there. It has to be a reason that makes sense. Not to you necessarily, but to them. But you can’t hand it to them either.

“With the boy, it was easy. He explained his unusual behavior to himself right away, turning his car around to be with you. It already made perfect sense in his mind. It helps that he probably didn’t want to leave in the first place.

“Now, it’s quite another matter for his sister. She doesn’t have a good reason to seek you out, especially all the way from Norway. She’ll be confused by that. You did say Norway, correct?”

“Yes. That’s what I saw on her luggage. It can’t be coincidence. Not with the vision I had recently.”

“Agreed. There are no coincidences. I’ve been alive long enough to figure out that much. There’s always somebody pulling strings behind the scenes, even if they don’t realize it themselves. Kind of like you did in this case.”

Saffron is bringing all of her mental resources to bear, which is another good reason to consult with her formidable mind.

“All right then, I’m going to take my vision as a given. Sylvia was in Norway to see the red-eyed wolf. Which brings me to my next question. Why? The problem is that it could be anything, and I don’t want to make assumptions. I need facts, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something dangerous about this wolf, insidious, even, and not just because of his eye color.”

I leave out that I found the stranger oddly arousing in my vision. I need to deal with one ball of wax at a time.

“And you’d be wise to trust that feeling,” Saffron says, “but don’t let your instincts compromise your ability to think.”

“It’s just that I know things I shouldn’t. Normal people don’t have visions. I have to remember what I actually know and what Mason and Sylvia are allowed to know I know. Except, what I actually know creates more questions, like how much does Mason know? What does Sylvia know that Mason doesn’t know?”

“Jess, you’re losing focus. Don’t worry about any of that right now. Those twins are going to wake up soon. The sister will be looking to you for answers. More than anything, you need to be ready for that.”

“I’ll do my best,” I say unconvincingly.

“You need to do better than that. You need to finesse this problem. You need to guide her train of thought, but without telling her what to think. And you can’t rush it, either. If she thinks you had any part in summoning her to your place, a heavy-handed approach will be needed instead of a soft touch. One that I don’t think you can manage. Are you going to be okay with this on your own?”

“Yes,” I say, still lacking certainty.

“Are you sure? Do you need me to come out there to help? Say the word and I will.”

I know this tone of voice. Saffron only makes this offer when she thinks I’m out of my depth. That was definitely true in the earlier years of my apprenticeship, but I want her to have faith in me this time, not come to my rescue.

“No, this is my mess. I made it. I’ll fix it,” I say with conviction.

“Okay. Good. Look, it doesn’t have to be complicated. If you spin a yarn, base it on the truth. Keep it specific but loose. Know what I mean? Let them make their own connections. That’s the best way to lie. Nothing you haven’t done before, I’m sure. There’s just less time to prepare today. Make no mistake, you’ve stumbled into a den of wolves here, but they’ve stumbled into a coven of witches. We’ve got your back.”

“Thank you, Saffron. I better go back inside.”

“All right, then. Talk soon.”

I turn off my phone and look up at the window of my suite. Time to face the music.

I return to the apartment and close the door behind me. The place is eerily quiet. It’s only when I round the corner that I startle. Sylvia is awake.

She is standing in front of my easel looking at
The Vision of Endymion
. The same one I left out for Mason to find.

“You’re up again,” I say with genuine surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you to be on your feet so soon. How are you doing?”

Sylvia answers without taking her eyes off the painting.

“A little out of sorts, but otherwise fine. I barely remember coming here, to be honest. Did you carry me to bed?”

“I did. You were really out of it.”

I’m already going over what Saffron told me.
Don’t lead. Let Sylvia steer the conversation.

“Sorry about that,” Sylvia says. “I don’t know what came over me. I mean, I don’t live that far from here. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure where you lived exactly.”

My natural instinct is to give Sylvia some kind of answer, try to address her question in some way. Which is exactly what I
don’t
do. I’m the one who should be put out in this situation. That’s the normal reaction to have. So less from me is better right now. Sylvia needs to puzzle this out for herself. When she doesn’t say anything for a while, I decide to offer a little guidance.

“Perhaps Mason told you where I live?”

“Yes. That must be it. He probably mentioned which house you live in over dinner one night.”

She doesn’t seem convinced, so I change the subject.

“I’ve been meaning to ask where Piper is these days. I haven’t seen her at the studio.”

“She came with me to Europe. She’s actually still there with her grandparents right now, getting spoiled. You know what grandparents are like. They make up for all their mistakes with you as parents by overcompensating with their grandchildren.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I say, smiling. “I gather Mason is still sleeping in the bedroom?”

Sylvia looks in the direction of the bedroom.

“I think so. I’m not sure. He was when I woke up. It makes sense with the…” Sylvia checks herself before continuing. “With all the work he’s been doing for our parents.”

She was going to say
with the full moon
, which makes me wonder how much Sylvia knows I know.

Okay. Time to be a good host.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Sylvia? Let me make you something to drink. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, please. Black. The blacker the better.”

“Sure thing.”

I retreat to the kitchen, put the kettle on, and ready a cup. Then I putter around washing dishes, as I was interrupted by her arrival. A few minutes pass before I return with a mug. She’s still looking at the painting, but with the reference book in hand, comparing the original against my painting.

“There you go,” I say. “Black as night.”

“Thank you.” Sylvia puts the book down, cradles the coffee in two hands, and tries some. “My. That
is
strong.”

She takes another sip, eager for caffeine.

“It’s really quite excellent,” she says after a moment. ”The painting, not the coffee.”

“I’ll try to make better coffee next time.”

Sylvia laughs politely. “Sorry, the coffee is good too, but I’ve just been sitting here comparing your painting to the original. I can’t find any fault with it.”

I look at
The Vision of Endymion
. There are a few errors that immediately jump out at me, but I keep those discrepancies to myself.

“Did Mason like it?” Sylvia asks.

“Very much.”

Sylvia smiles at me knowingly. “Well, I hope that works out for you,” she says.

I can tell that she’s privately patting herself on the back. That’s when I decide that now is as good a time as any to burst her bubble. Pretending like I don’t know anything about her and Mason is really annoying.

“I know Mason is a werewolf.”

Sylvia looks at me and says nothing.

“I also know about you and him. That you experience all the same powerful feelings… and sensations.”

“I see. Mason really does care about you, then. You painting this image for him had a powerful effect. He really opened up to you.”

“Actually, I knew he was werewolf before the painting. Not only that, but I’m okay with it. This was painted after Mason left, which he did shortly after telling me about the bond you share. It didn’t sit well with me at first. He could tell I was bothered by that. I shut down emotionally and he drove off into the night.”

“Wait. Mason left… and then came back?” Sylvia asks.

Odd. That’s what gets a rise out of her? Not that I know about their bond? Or that Mason is a werewolf?

Sylvia puts her coffee down, stands up, and hugs me. It catches me off guard. It’s a quick hug, but a meaningful one. She steps back a moment later but keeps holding my shoulders in her hands.

“Jess, that’s great news. Mason has never come back to anybody. Not after he left, in any case. Were you able to work everything out?”

“Yes,” I say, still a bit thrown by Sylvia’s affection, “but I have to be honest. Having this conversation with you about your brother? It’s kind of weird, especially considering the bond you share.”

“Of course, I can only imagine how strange that must be for you, possibly overwhelming. Even stranger than Mason being a werewolf. Still, you seem to be taking it well.”

Sylvia is excited, which isn’t the reaction I was expecting at all. She’s not fazed in the least.

“It is a lot to process,” I say.

“This explains so much,” she continues, not really paying attention to me or my discomfort. “It’s why I felt such a powerful compulsion to fly back from Europe. It’s probably why I came here so directly, to your doorstep, no less. I must have been keyed into what Mason was feeling when he came back you. Into what was probably the most powerful feeling he’s ever experienced. Ha! Well, look at that—my twin brother is in love with you, Jess.”

She gives me another quick hug.

I wanted to tell Sylvia that her painting didn’t bring Mason and I closer together, that we got there on our own. I even spilled the beans about knowing that Mason is a werewolf. It served two purposes in the end, because, just like Saffron said, Sylvia came to her own conclusion. No help from me whatsoever. That couldn’t have worked out better.

“How long was I out?”

Mason is standing in the doorway of my bedroom, yawning and scratching his face. I couldn’t be happier to see him. That’s when he sees his sister.

“Sylvia? Shouldn’t you be in Europe with our parents?”

“Yes I should,” Sylvia snaps back at him. “No thanks to you.”

Sylvia walks over to her brother and gives him a hug. Mason hugs his sister back but looks over at me, confused.

“Did I miss something?”

I’ve been keeping the secret of being a witch for so long I sometimes forget why we hide it from people in the first place, the actual reasons behind the pact. It doesn’t take long before I remember, but it’s getting harder these days. Especially when I catch myself watching Mason.

I’m always stealing glances at him during our quiet moments together, when he’s not aware that my eyes are on him. When he’s cooking, when he’s reading. More and more, I find myself wanting to open up to him with each day we spend together.

It’s been two weeks days since he returned to me. We’ve long since settled back into a comfortable routine, like he never left. If there’s a red-eyed wolf in my life, as prophesied by my vision, he must be hiding, because I haven’t seen one around.