The Priest (The Original Sinners #9) - Tiffany Reisz Page 0,94
through the deck again and pulled out another card, The Hierophant, otherwise known as The High Priest, and set it on the table between them.
Nora stared at the card and said nothing.
“What is this card to you?” Mercedes asked.
“You tell me.”
“The cards aren’t books full of answers,” Mercedes said. “They’re doors. They tell us what doors we need to open in our lives. But only you can open that door and walk through. All I can say is that this card, it’s male. Male power. Male energy. Male power and men in power. I would guess you have a male authority in your life who has great power over you. Too much power. Power that influences you and leads you astray.”
“I can’t believe that. Not of him.”
“Him?”
“Him,” Nora said. “My him.”
“Might not be a him. Might be an it. The cards have people on them but they don’t always represent actual people. This could be a force in your life, not necessarily a person.”
“The High Priest,” Nora said, “is a person to me.”
“Who is he then?”
“Someone I will never leave.” Nora met Mercedes’s eyes.
“Someone you love.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Mistress Nora. I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”
“I don’t believe in any of this.” Nora waved her hand, as if to knock it all aside.
“You believe in all of it,” Mercedes said sharply. “You’re Catholic. You believe in prayers, which we call spells. You believe in blessing, which we call charging. You believe in God. We call that force the Goddess. You believe in magic, except you don’t call it that. But it is magic, all the same. Magic words, magic songs, magic spells. Light a candle, whisper a name, summon him home to your bed. That’s a love spell. You cast one and it came to pass.”
“I decorate for Christmas, too. I don’t believe in Santa Claus.”
“But you believe in Jesus.”
Nora couldn’t look at Mercedes and her dark waiting eyes anymore. She glanced away, stared at a painting on the wall, a painting of a white stag in a field of snow.
“What is it? What are you afraid of?”
Nora swallowed a lump in her throat.
“I’m not leaving the man I love. I’m not. I won’t.”
“I would never tell you to.”
“You already did.” She reached out, picked up the card of The High Priest.
“Your lover is a priest, isn’t he?” Mercedes asked. Nora nodded slowly. “You’re the mistress of a warlock. No wonder there’s so much power around you. You’re sleeping with a warlock.”
Nora laughed out loud. Rude? Yes. Unbelievably rude. But she couldn’t stop herself. It was all too ridiculous. S?ren. A warlock.
“Laugh all you want,” Mercedes said. “Laugh all you can. I know you think I’m crazy. It’s all right. I’m not the one sleeping with a priest. Even I know better than that.”
“What’s wrong with sleeping with a priest? Other than I’m not supposed to do that and neither is he.”
“Priests have power. Too much of it. You can’t go around sticking your fingers into light sockets and not expecting to get shocked. But be the Fool if you like. There’s a place for them in this world, too.” She held up another card—The Fool.
“You’re not going to make me leave the man I’ve loved my entire life. The only reason I came here was to make sure I didn’t need to be afraid of you. I can tell I don’t have to be, so I won’t be. Although if I were you, I’d stay away from my house from now on. We’re installing a security system.”
“I’ll stay away.”
Nora stood up though she didn’t want to. The shop felt as comfortable as a soft warm bed and leaving it just as hard. Mercedes stayed at her table, staring at the cards before her.
“Nora,” Mercedes said. Nora turned back. “Just so you know, I’m more scared of you than you are of me.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Okay, so Nora had been right. Going for a run with S?ren? It was a trap.
The first mile was okay. Cyrus could do an eight-minute mile, no problem. He could do an eight-minute mile for a mile. Mile two got a little tougher. For Cyrus, that is. S?ren kept on running, feet pounding the pavement like clockwork, breaths pumping steady and hard as a locomotive. But that couldn’t last, right? Not running eight-minute miles.
Mile three? Holy shit.
Cyrus actually said, “Holy shit!” out loud when the run stretched into mile four.