“You wouldn’t have believed me,” she said. “And your mother would die anyway, and in addition to your sorrow, you would be saddled with guilt for ignoring what I told you.”
“I might have believed you.”
“You don’t believe me now. Why would you then?”
“Okay, forget that,” Nora said. “What about the fire? Burning innocent people? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“The closer events are, the easier they are to see. The further out, the harder. I can see the titles of the books on the shelves near me. I can’t read the titles on your books across the room. The future is the same. But I think it’s getting closer.”
“Could you be any vaguer?”
“You don’t know. Why should I? It’s your choice, not mine.”
“I would never hurt innocent people.”
“I don’t think you would…not on purpose. But even if pain is unintentional, it still hurts, doesn’t it?”
Nora had no answer to that. It was true. Couldn’t argue with the truth.
Mercedes slipped her book into her bag and stood up.
“Are you leaving?” Nora asked.
“I have to be at the shop at ten for deliveries. Thank you for the wine.”
Mercedes rose to her feet and Nora had no choice but to walk her to the door, like she was some normal houseguest.
Nora opened the door and Mercedes looked at it, didn’t leave. Apparently, Mercedes still had something to say to her.
“This is between women,” Mercedes said. “About women. For women. Men will only make it more complicated than it already is. Men will only make it worse.”
“I trust the men in my life.”
“You got to learn to trust the women, too. You’ve got to. Even the silence of a woman is wiser than the words of a man.”
“Then let’s be wise, shall we?”
Both of Mercedes’s elegant eyebrows went up at that. But she playfully ran her fingers over her lips to zip them. She nodded, and Nora opened the door again.
Mercedes slipped on her shoes, turned to leave. She stepped onto the porch, but before Nora closed the door, she had to ask one more question.
“I saw you cover up a paragraph when you were reading to me. What was it?”
“You ask me that like you believe it’s real.”
“Pascal’s Wager,” Nora said. “Ever heard of it?”
Mercedes nodded. “We wager our souls when we choose to believe or not believe in God. Smart souls believe in God because if God does exist, God will reward them with eternal happiness. If God doesn’t exist, the person has lost nothing. But if God exists and the person doesn’t believe, he’s lost eternity.”
“So might as well believe,” Nora said. “Just in case.”
“You don’t lose anything by asking me, you mean? And you might gain something?”
“Seems a safe bet.” Nora paused. “Did you? See anything about me, I mean?”
“The Hierophant,” she said. “The High Priest. He was in the present position reversed, but not the future.”
“What does that mean? A priest I know is going to die?”
A priest did die.
“No,” Mercedes said. “Three of Staves came next. I saw you taking a journey. A journey that will take you away from The High Priest.”
“I went on that journey. I came back.”
Mercedes shook her head.
“No. On this journey, you don’t come back. You walk away and keep walking.”
Nora stood up straighter. Her jaw clenched.
“This is why we don’t tell people what they don’t want to hear.” Mercedes smiled apologetically.
“Now I know you’re a fraud,” Nora said.
“What is he to you? The High Priest?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Whatever it is, it’s not good for you.”
Nora felt a jolt at those words. Her anger—dammed by her curiosity—finally broke through. She was done.
“Why don’t you just go and cast a spell to make sure I do what you want me to do?” Nora demanded, her tone mocking.
“You’re suggesting I go to a sacred temple by night, light a candle, and speak magic words?”
“That’ll work.”
“Like when you go to St. Mary’s at night, light altar candles and pray?”
Nora narrowed her eyes at Mercedes.
“You have been following me.”
“I walk the Garden District every night, as you do. I saw you out with only your dog, later than usual. I was curious.”
“Stop following me.”
Mercedes gave her a Mona Lisa smile. “Yes, Mistress.”
Nora shut the door behind Mercedes, locked it and rested her forehead on the cool surface. She breathed, breathed again.
Stupid. So fucking stupid. She didn’t believe in this garbage. It was all a hoax, a hustle, a con. A long con, at that. And Nora was done with it. She undid the lock. She was going to tell Mercedes that if she ever stepped foot on her property again, there would be a restraining order waiting with her name on it.
Nora threw the door open. Mercedes was long gone, but swinging from her doorknob was a string of silver Mardi Gras beads.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cyrus got home to his apartment a few minutes after midnight. He had eyes for nothing or no one but his bed. He had his shirt unbuttoned and halfway off when he felt his phone buzzing in his pants.
A text from Nora. Soon as he read it, he called her.
“Cyrus,” she breathed. “I’m so glad you’re still awake.”
“Just got home. She was at your house?”
“Yeah. She just knocked on my door.”
“And you opened it?”
“Gmork didn’t bark. He barks at men, not women. I just saw a woman and opened the door.”
She sounded more scared now than she had when Pasadena had roughed her up on Bourbon Street.
“What did she say?”
“A lot. She said she’s been keeping an eye on me for three years. I don’t know why, but she’s the one who’s been putting the beads in my tree.”
“Shit, shit, shit.” Cyrus grimaced. “I never should have gotten you into this.”
“It’s not your fault, Cy.”
“You need me to come over?” he asked. Where had that come from? Was that the old Cyrus talking or the new Cyrus? “I can sleep on your sofa. Paulina won’t mind.”
“I have to be honest, I’m kind of tempted to say ‘yes.’ But I don’t want to be a coward.”
“A woman came to your door in the middle of the night, told you she’d been watching you for three years. That she’s been beading your trees. I think you’re allowed to be scared shitless. Hell, I am.”
That wasn’t an exaggeration. Cyrus’s heart was pounding like a bass drum.
“I don’t want you alone,” he said. “Can you stay at Edge’s house tonight?”
Edge definitely seemed like the kind of man who could handle this kind of threat.
“King’s probably not home yet. And I’m sure Juliette’s already asleep. I’m not about to wake up a pregnant woman and scare the hell out of her.”