Seeress: Book Three (Runes Series) (4 page)

“So what was the purpose of the fire, the runes, and the circle?” Blaine asked.

Ingrid glanced at him, her pale blond hair swinging across her cheeks. She’d recently chopped her long strands into a bob cut. Andris hated it. Personally, I think it suited her. Gave her that polished Upper East Side socialite look.

“The circle contains the energy and magic within that narrow space and protects it,” she explained. “Unlike other forms of magical practices, Seidr witches don’t have covens. There’s no drumming or frenzied dancing. We sing a special song, and that’s it.”

“The song I heard?” I asked.

She nodded. “A Seeress chooses an elevated place somewhere where there’s very little distraction, creates a protective circle around her, and burns recels to purify the space and clear her mind of all things worldly. In most cases, someone sings the Seidr song to relax the Seeress and help her drift into a trance. The runes help her channel her visions.”

I was so going to need lots of runes, because even when summoned, everything had been blurry. Not only was I supposed to get visions, I had to worry about other Seeresses contacting me for help. My life couldn’t get any weirder.

I glanced toward the portal, wondering where Torin had disappeared to. The conversation around the table revolved around magical practices. Blaine had something to say about Gaelic magic, which his people practiced in Ireland.

“Don’t ask me how our magic works because we’re sworn to secrecy and any Druid or Druidess worth their salt will keep that to their death. That’s why your people came after us.” He glared at Andris. “You didn’t just hate that the entire Gaulish society depended on us. You hated the fact that we refused to share our knowledge.”

“Before my time, Chapman, so put a sock in it.” Andris blew him a kiss. He was born in Rome, just before the Ottoman invaded and captured Constantinople. “By the time I arrived, you guys were extinct.”

“Gone underground,” Blaine retorted.

“Whatever, dude.” Andris glanced around the table. “I wish I had cute anecdotes to share. We had pentagrams and covens and witch hunts, the worst time to be a witch.” He glanced at Femi. “May I borrow your laptop?”

Femi waved toward the counter, where she’d left her computer. Andris left the table.

“What was your magic like, Femi?” I asked.

She grinned, studying her charm bracelets. “Egyptian magicians were powerful in the old days. They didn’t just communicate with the gods; they controlled them. When we wanted to know something, we channeled the powers of a particular god. Say I wanted to know about the harvest, I channeled Hapi, the god of the Nile. We created statues of the gods, which acted as oracles. Or we got visions through incubation,” Femi said.

Everyone wore a perplexed expression.

“What is incubation?” I asked.

“Sleeping in a god’s temple to get visions through dreams,” Femi explained.

Torin returned, and the room became quiet. “It’s done. I talked to a few Valkyries, who agreed to pass the info to other Valkyries and Immortals. Others weren’t home, but the word is out.”

“I’m done, too,” Andris said. He turned the laptop around. On the screen were several open windows. “Message boards for witches. I just posted a warning anonymously under Seeresses Beware.”
  

Torin gave Andris a back slap. “Good job, bro. That should cover things for now.” He stopped behind me, slid his hands down my arms, and whispered, “Do you want to go for a ride?”

Anything was better than sitting here worrying, talking, and thinking about visions. “Sure. Can I be in charge?”

“Aren’t you always?”

Yeah, for about five seconds. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“But I ordered dinner,” Femi said when she realized we were leaving.

“We’ll eat when we come back,” I said. “Rides tend to make me hungry.”

Andris whistled. “Oh, I need that kind of ride.”

Torin smacked the back of his head. I just shook my head. Andris always reduced everything to something lewd.

***

I loved the Harley since the first time Torin had offered me a ride to school and showed me what he could do with his runes. It was like hurtling down on
Formula Rossa
without safety straps. Dangerous, but exhilarating.

Torin went to get another leather jacket when we arrived next door. He hadn’t changed the décor even though Andris, Ingrid, and Lavania moved to the mansion. The white and gray furniture and framed nature pictures on the walls weren’t really him. He was more leather and chrome.

“Are you ever going to move to the mansion?” I asked, adjusting the leather gloves.

He adjusted the collar of my jacket, lifting my hair out of the way. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” I adjusted his collar too, my hand lingering on his wide shoulders. “I like looking across the yard and seeing you tinker in the kitchen.”

“That’s insulting.” He lowered his head until his lips were inches from mine and whispered, “I don’t tinker.” His warm breath teased my lips.

“But you look so adorable doing it.”

“Adorable is you chewing your lower lip and looking unsure about what to do next. Adorable is you scolding Andris because he’s being a turd again or having one of your heated debates with your… dad.”

Dad and I hadn’t had one of our debates in weeks. “Okay. You look sexy. Let’s go.” I pushed open the door to his garage, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. He lifted my chin.

“You’ll have to start talking about him, Freckles.”

“I know he’s dying, but…” I sighed. “I just don’t want to talk about him as though he’s gone. He might never cook for me or debate or go for runs, but… but he’s still here.”

“I know.”

“And I hate saying ‘Dad used to do this or that.’ I want him healthy, yet I know it’s never going to happen.”

“Come here.” Torin started to pull me into his arms, but I jumped back.

 
“You are just trying to get out of letting me take the first seat.” I wagged my finger. “Not happening, mister.” I ran into the garage with him hot on my tail. When I glanced back, the look on his face said he knew I was bailing.

I wanted to be as far away from here as possible. Put distance between me and my problems. It was irrational. No one could outrun their problems, but I was going to try.

We grabbed helmets and goggles. His hair had grown long. I tucked in a few strands and got rewarded with a kiss on my nose. He pressed the keys in my hand.

“It’s all yours,” he said.

Grinning, I straddled the bike and turned the key. The purr of the engine filled the garage. I’d never get tired of feeling the power of the modified Harley engine. Or Torin curled onto my back with his masculine arms wrapped tightly around me. I always felt safe when he did that, even though I was the one controlling the machine.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

We only have an hour or so of daylight, but that shouldn’t be a problem. “Uh, Portland? It’s only an hour away and I can practice weaving between cars in a big city.”

“Um, okay,” he said slowly.

He was humoring me. I wasn’t ready to drive at a super speed in a city. Mrs. Rutledge peered at us as we pulled off. Was she ever going to get tired of spying on us?

“Seriously, where are we going?” Torin asked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you home in one piece,” I teased.

He chuckled, but didn’t push for an answer. I grew up in Oregon and knew every landmark, back road, and hidden treasure. Dad often took us on long drives in the backcountry on weekends, camping, biking, and fishing. I could find most places without a map.

We left Kayville behind and headed toward I-5. The traffic was low. Typical Sunday evening. “Ready?” I called out.

“Ready,” Torin yelled back.

We engaged our runes at the same time. The effect packed quite a punch, like a shot of dopamine. We shifted to super speed, zipping past cars and dodging oncoming ones. I took corners like an Indy car racer, laughing and woo-hooing. Torin laughed.

We hit I-5 and headed south. I loved that he trusted me enough to let me take the front seat. If only he did it often. Twenty minutes later, I exited the highway and used back roads until we reached the south entrance to Crater Lake National Park.

We parked by the gate and removed our helmets.

Torin looked around. “Where are we?”

“Crater Lake National Park. My family used to come here a lot. We’d camp or stay at one of the cabins.” Funny how I left home to get away from thoughts of Dad and we ended up at one of his favorite places. There was still snow on the ground, but in the summer, the place was spectacular. “We should come back here in the summer. The lake is breathtaking.”
 

It was past five and the park was closed, but a few cars dotted the parking lot at the entrance. Some people drove past us and stared. I wasn’t sure whether the attraction was Torin or the Harley. It was the same everywhere we went.

“Ready to go back?” Torin asked.

“Not yet.” There was really nothing to see unless we went inside the park, but it was a nice resting place. Torin leaned against the bike and pulled me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around his waist and tried to enjoy the moment, but the vision I’d seen came back to haunt me. I lifted my head and studied his face. “Would you visit a Seeress if I disappeared and you didn’t know where to look?”

He stiffened. “What?”

“If something bad happened to me—”

“That’s not funny.” He glowered.

“It’s a hypothetical situation, Torin.”

“I don’t care. Don’t say that.”

I sighed. “Okay, I won’t. But would you visit a Seeress to see the future if a friend was missing and you didn’t know where she was?”

“Why is my friend a
she
? I don’t have she-friends except you.”

I wanted to deck him. He could be so impossible sometimes. “If a
he
-friend was sick, would you visit a Seeress to get some answers?” I said through clenched teeth.

“Nope.” He smirked, confirming he was messing with me.

I wiggled out of his arms and gave him a you’d-better-answer-me-truthfully-or-else
glare. “Why not?”

“I don’t like witches.”

My jaw dropped. “How can you say that? I happen to be one. A Seeress.”

“Until we confirm your first vision, you,” he stroked my nose, “are just a glorified Immortal and… my girlfriend.”

I punched his arm. Hard. “Jerk.”

“Witch.”

I reached for him, but he engaged his runes and slipped past me. Then he had the nerve to laugh. There were no more vehicles left in the parking lot, so I figured no one could see us. I engaged my runes and went after him. I tackled him, or he allowed me to catch him, and we landed on the snow. We rolled a bit until I pinned him down. I had snow in my hair. I shook it, spraying him.

“Cut that out,” he growled, a playful light in his eyes.

“What do you have against witches?” I asked.

He cushioned his head on his arms and smirked. “The ones I knew growing up were horrible.”

“What did they do to you?”

He pulled me down for a kiss and the conversation was forgotten, until I became aware of cold and wetness on my knees. Torin’s pants had to be wet, too.

“Let’s take this home,” I whispered.

“I like it when you lust after me.”

“Shut up.”

He studied me in the fading light. “Feel better?”

“Yeah.” I got off him and pulled him up.

The drive home was shorter since speed junkie was in charge. The others were gone. Femi was in the laundry room, folding up clothes fresh from the dryer. The TV was on and a quick glance inside the den showed Dad propped up against pillows watching a basketball game.

“Hey, Dad,” I said.

He looked up and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. What happened? We were supposed to read this morning.”

I frowned. One, he sounded coherent. Two, we’d read. “Uh, Dad, we—”

Then I remembered my marathon reading on everything brain cancer after I learned about his illness. Memory loss was one of the symptoms of the cancer in his part of the brain. It was probably silly of me, but I was happy he couldn’t remember this morning and what he’d said about me not touching him.

“Uh, we can read now,” I said.

“After the game,” Dad said. “The Grizzlies’ in-your-face defense is killing us. Scott should call a time out and come up with a better play. ”

Smiling, I closed the door. He sounded like his old self. Didn’t know long it would last, but I was watching that game with him.

“He’s watching a Blazer game,” I told Torin. “I’m going to hang out with him for a while.”

“No problem. I’ll just grab my food.” Two boxes from WOTG—Wok on the Go—and chopsticks were on the counter. He peered inside. “Sweet and sour or beef and broccoli?”

“Either.” I got a drink, kissed him, and shooed him out of my kitchen. “Go. Warm yours at your place. I’ll see you later.”