She entered alone.
And even though I knew what was coming - had felt her threat veiled as a warning, I still sucked in my breath at the sight of her.
Her dark locks cascaded across her shoulders. A white maxi dress grazed her body, the thigh-high slip easing open with each step she took as she sauntered towards my table. The neckline of her dress dipped, showing off her round, pert cleavage.
She was a vision, and even I had to admit that she seemed to embody the name of The Empress far more than I ever did. Still, even if I was dressed in something more than cut-off jeans and a t-shirt, I didn’t think I would feel any differently. It was all her. She seemed to embody Magick, she moved with it instead of alongside it.
My body was rigid as I sat stiffly, refusing to give anything away.
The scent of freshly cut apples mixed in with the underlying smell of cinnamon snaked around me, enthralling me in all that she was. I watched intently as she made her way to my table with each step of her foot, her hips swaying seductively. Patrons glanced at her appreciatively - and honestly, who wouldn’t? I didn’t have to like her to admit that she was a stunning creature.
Once she arrived at my table, she took Dimitri's seat, sitting opposite me. A smile curled on her lips as the patrons now began to take me in as well - because I was sitting opposite her. She brushed her long locks off of her shoulder, a light sigh escaping her - and even the way she breathed seemed somehow magnetic. This lighting only served to enhance the warm caramel colour of her skin, contrasting magnificently against the white of her dress. It was a struggle not to feel inadequate next to her - not just on a physical level, but also because I knew how powerful she was.
Her gaze bore into mine as if she was wondering why I had been gifted the power of weaving Magick, when so many others - some possibly more worthy, fell short. I too had questioned it numerous times, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful, and it certainly didn’t mean that I would allow myself to be bullied by the likes of her.
Zoey had promised to see what she could find on her, but without even a name to go on, it was difficult to search for much. There seemed to be a dime a dozen Voodoo Priestesses in NOLA, making the search futile.
“My name is Lauren, by the way,” she smiled viciously, and even the way she pronounced her name, dragging it out in a breathy, sensual way - Lau-ren, made it sound somewhat exotic.
But there was also a rightness to it. Power within it, as if the ownership of her name - the embodiment of it thereof, radiated with her abilities. The wind tousled my hair, lifting the fine wisps that lay at the back of my neck up, sending shivers coursing through my body. I couldn’t stop the little hitch of my breath - the one that seemed to accompany the goosebumps that coated my flesh as the wind rose up and whispered her name back to me.
Lauren. Lauren. Lauren. Lauren.
Her power beat against mine.
I remained silent. Not wanting to engage, but still drawn to her. To the outside world, we looked like nothing more than two girls meeting for coffee. But my Magick raged against hers in the quiet silence of our table, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to not lean across the table, casting my Magick towards her, and allowing the cards to fall where they may.
But doing such would have amounted to war, and I wasn’t sure if I was willing to calculate our power wills to that level just yet.
Her laughter was harmonic, mocking my internal struggle - as if she knew how much I wanted to lash out at her - smite her even.
"You know," she leant forward, conspiratorially, "I play an eye for an eye kind of game." She winked, "so if you are thinking of retaliating somehow, I have made sure that it will reverberate back, three fucking fold."
I stiffened against her threat, "You forget that I have a wealth of Witches behind me, so I think we have this covered,” I smirked.
Private school had been beneficial for many things, but the condescending smirk was probably my most used tool that I picked up from my time there.
"Oh yes," she sang, "your little Club," she spat the last word, and I understood that our structure was an affront to everything she believed.
Because we were not a Coven and we did not even all practice the same type of Magick. It was entirely a business arrangement - a supportive one at that, but business nonetheless. Charl was in the business of Magick. There just wasn't anything else to it. She was probably further irked that Zoey had essentially given us all access to the Magick of Voodoo.
"You're in over your head," she seethed as I kept my face void of expression.
Lauren quickly glanced over her shoulder as Dimitri re-entered the cafe and my pulse raged at her gaze on him. I did not want her looking at him like that.
“Tell your Club that we are willing to leave you alone if you stop working with Demons,” her voice was hurried as if she too didn’t want Dimitri to overhear our conversation. This threat ran much deeper than Dimitri and his organization. It even ran deeper than simply a distinct dislike to the Club and what we represented. This was a discussion around Demons and possibly an affront to the very system of Magick itself. Hadn’t Solomon shown me as much?
The shock on my face must have been evident because she smirked knowingly.
Her Magick pushed against mine, seeking any crack - any crevice in my defenses. My anklet held firm, but I still kept my mental walls high, refusing to give an inch. I may be surprised, but I wasn’t an idiot.
“Tell your leader or whoever the fuck is colluding with Demons to stop. The business that we deal in this realm has nothing to do with them. It’s one thing to call upon them in order to get them to do your bidding, and another thing entirely when one of ours and a demon plots an entire new strategy for this world.”
I swallowed down the dryness of my throat, wishing with everything I had that what she was saying had no basis or foundation in truth. I didn’t know for certain what exactly Charl had done, but I knew in my gut that he had colluded with Demons on more than one occasion. What she was saying just seemed as if it were an extension of what he had already done - the step over the blurred line he had finally solidified. And now, I was sitting here, playing peacekeeper to a Voodoo Priestess.
My anger rose to the surface, swift as an asp, ready to strike and lash out at whoever approached. Unfortunately, I couldn’t lash out at Lauren. Doing that would only make the situation worse. This was so typical of Charl - hedge his bets to boost the Club and his own damn ego regardless of the costs and how his actions impacted us. It would also explain why he had been so enthralled with the madness. I needed to call Max, maybe she had some insight around what was actually going on with him.
Despite it all, I strained every muscle in my body to keep my face void of any sort of expression. The wind blew between us, a posturing of sorts, and I was afraid to look away from her - to take my eyes off of her for even a second in fear of what she may do in a moment she wasn’t being watched.