“Are you prepared to take on this assignment?” she asked.
“Will I have your oversight?” I asked in return.
“Of course,” she answered.
“Then yes, I’m ready,” I told her.
She studied me another moment before stating, “You didn’t answer my question about Noc.”
“All is well,” I lied.
She knew I lied, I could see it in the shrewd look in her eyes, but I held her gaze, my chin lifted, my meaning clear.
She had her business that wasn’t mine, even if I wanted to be there for her to assist in any way I could.
I had mine.
She gave in. “We’ll work the spell tomorrow.”
I inclined my head.
She tipped hers to the door. “I suggest you watch this maintenance man and ascertain the best way we can make an approach without detection. We need to be close to cast a love spell and he should be alone. He doesn’t simply get stars in his eyes, seek out our client and sweep her off her feet. My work is much more subtle than that. Therefore, yours will be too.”
I nodded and stood.
Having been dismissed, and glad for it, I made my way from her magic room to head to the room below where my crystal ball was waiting for me.
I’d nearly made the door when she called, “Franka.”
I turned to her.
Her gaze locked to mine.
“All will be well,” she said quietly.
I hoped she was correct, but the first time since Noc entered the sitting room I was in at the Winter Palace months ago, I felt my hopes would be dashed.
I said not a word and swept from the room.
I went to my crystal ball, but when I got there, I did not call up this “maintenance man” (whatever that was).
I stared at it thinking other thoughts.
Dismal thoughts.
Fearful thoughts.
Insecure thoughts.
Doing all this finding myself entirely unable to stop it or the growing emotion that rose up inside me, making me feel useless and unworthy of the man who loved me enough to steer me beyond a lifetime of pain when I could not offer the same.
Therefore, when ten digits appeared in my crystal ball, I was startled.
I knew not what they meant or even how they appeared.
I had not called for them (whatever they were).
However, they didn’t go away.
I continued to stare, and as I did the handbag I’d placed on the table by my orb after I’d arrived and before I’d joined Valentine jumped in its place.
This meant I jumped in my seat and stared at that.
My handbag skipped again and I heard a distinct buzz that I knew came from my phone.
I released a relieved breath as I understood what was happening and reached for it, for I was simply getting a text.
I pulled the phone out of my bag and activated it.
However, there were no notifications of a text.
My eyes slid to my crystal ball and a frisson of awareness slinked up my spine.
My ball was telling me something.
My magic was telling me something.
And what I knew was my magic was my magic.
Good magic.
So wherever that magic led me to, in my bones, I felt it safe to follow.
I touched the phone button, went to my keypad and entered the digits from my crystal ball into it.
Sitting straight in my chair, I lifted the phone to my ear and listened to it ring.
Shortly into this, a man’s voice boomed, “You got Lud.”
Lud?
Who was Lud?
“Yo? Hello?” the voice called.
Lud.
Oh no.
Lud!
As in…Ludlum.
The digits were for Noc’s father’s phone.
Balls!
“One more time, someone there?” he asked.
“Hello, Mr. Hawthorne?” I said it as a question even if I knew the answer.
“Right, darlin’, no offense, your job ain’t fun, but I’m not a big fan of marketing calls so do me a favor and take me off your call list.”
“Mr. Hawthorne,” I stated but couldn’t, for the life of me, decide what to say next.
“Will you do that for me?” he asked.
“This is Franka,” I declared.
He said nothing and I thought he’d disengaged.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
“Franka?”
I nodded swiftly even if he couldn’t see me. “Yes, Franka. Franka Drakkar. Er, Frannie. I’m Noc’s…I’m, erm, Noc’s…well, I’m just Noc’s,” I introduced stupidly.
Gods!
“Interesting way to put it,” he muttered, sounding amused and then suddenly he did not sound anything of the sort when he asked, “Is my boy okay?”
“Yes, yes, he’s fine. Absolutely. I mean, yes. He is. In most senses. Very fine. I mean to say that…. Actually, what I mean is, he’s quite well. But he’s also…”
Drat!
Why didn’t I disconnect the moment I knew who it was?
There was nothing for it, I hadn’t, so I had to go on.
“He’s also, well…not.”
“Damn,” he muttered, seemingly knowing precisely what I was saying. “Uh, sorry, honey. I mean, darn.”
“Cursing does not offend me,” I shared.
He was back to muttering. “Knowin’ my boy, that’s probably good.”
He was right about that.
Abruptly, I got cold feet (not that they’d ever been warm).
Damn my crystal ball.
“I need to apologize. I’m rethinking the wisdom of calling you,” I told him even though I hadn’t actually called him knowing I was doing any such thing.
“No, I’m thinkin’ it’s probably very wise you called me.”