Rise of the Wadjet Witch - By Juliet C. Obodo Page 0,39
list of items you would like to discuss?”
“No; just one.” He waved a familiar sheet of papyrus at her.
“Hey, that belongs to me!” She couldn’t believe his nerve. How had he taken it back without her noticing? She made a move to grab the chart.
“No, actually, this belongs to me.” He unfolded his chart and handed it to her. Memphis couldn’t believe her eyes; his chart was almost identical to hers.
“So, is that a yes to lunch?” He took her silence as an agreement and took her arm to escort her out of the building.
“I was thinking Thai,” he said as they went into the elevator.
“I can’t believe it; your chart is so similar to mine!” She wondered if he too had been dealing with strange occurrences like flying in Central Park, saving old ladies, and breaking up happy couples. Probably not, but she couldn’t help hoping she had finally found someone who could empathize. “The person I met for lunch, Dr. Virgil White, explained it all to me. Have you heard of him?”
Lawrence’s face registered recognition, but then immediately went blank. “No. Doesn’t ring a bell,” he replied.
“That’s strange. Jill’s heard of him. She actually gave me one of his papers. I would have thought that you recognized the name.”
“Well, Memphis, you thought wrong. I don’t write horoscopes,” he snapped.
Memphis stared down at her soup. She’d never seen him express any type of negative emotion; he was always so jolly. So he was human after all. She hid a smile.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push.”
“No, I apologize. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I guess it’s just that I’m feeling the pressure from the Third Eye murders.”
“I thought you were just writing about them, not trying to solve the case.”
He looked up at her. His blue eyes were piercing. “I just feel responsible for them somehow.”
“You can’t be—not unless you’re the killer.” She laughed.
“Yes, you’re right.” He laughed too, but it seemed forced.
“Who gave you your chart? Your parents?” Memphis asked. She knew nothing about him, yet they had this important connection.
“You really don’t remember me, do you?” he asked softly.
She had no idea what he meant. “Do you mean from the party?” Or from last night? Her cheeks burned.
“No, Memphis, from the garden—the garden in the middle of the compound.”
“What garden?” She stared at him. He seemed so familiar, but she thought that was because she wanted to know him.
Suddenly, the sunlight reflected off something around his neck.
“What is that?” She reached over to touch the necklace and accidently brushed his throat. She tried to ignore the shock, but when she looked at him and their eyes met, it intensified. It was as if the air was electrified. They held each other’s gaze, and a wave of intimacy hit her.
She did know him. She looked down at the necklace; it held the same eye-shaped charm as the necklace in her box. Within the eye, she began to see a flash of pictures.
She saw herself as a little girl. Lawrence was there and they were playing some sort of game. He would leap into the air and she would follow. They were in a garden and there were other children: a very blonde boy who looked like a cherub and a wispy, dark-haired girl. The garden was very well tended; it was filled with aromatic flowers. She could actually smell them. Jasmine, she sighed.
Just then, a woman’s voice called out that it was time for dinner. Memphis recognized that voice; it was her mother. She turned to look at her, but the scene changed. She was suddenly falling. Another child was there—a boy. His screams drowned her own. She felt intense pain.
She dropped Lawrence’s necklace and held her head, trying to rub away the sensations.
“Are you all right?” He reached for her hand.
She pulled away. She was afraid to touch him again, and afraid of everything she felt. “Who are you?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off.
“Luri,” she whispered. “You are Luri.”
“Lawrence, actually, but you could never say it right when we were little, so Luri just stuck. I guess it’s fitting though, since I come from a family of gypsies.”
“Really? You’re so lucky to know so much about your family—and I guess mine, too.”
She told him about her visions and what Virgil said about her chart.
“I have psychic abilities because of this. I want to know—do you have them, too?” She mentally pleaded with him to tell her the