We ate our scones and sipped tea.
“What
do you see?” he suddenly asked.
“What
do you mean?” I placed my hot cup on its saucer.
“Sorcery,”
he blew the word to me in an exhaled whisper, “is about seeing. Have you thought of the word ‘seer’? People tend to disregard the obvious.”
“There’s
a theory I read. If you don’t know what
something is, you can’t see it,” I replied.
“Very
good.” He sat upright, interested.
“Rather abstract, but intriguing.”
“Alright. I notice this rain is making things shiny and
beautiful, washing everything. Oh yeah,
and I saw white omens before I came through this door. White paper tossed in the wind, white door.”
“Right
on.” He raised his cup, acknowledging my statement with a smile. Two silver rings glistened on his right
hand. “Good omens. Could signify a lot of things. It’s up to you to decipher material symbols
and just enjoy the beauty. Like - white
paper moving could be a message on the way.
Which way was it going – north, south?
There’s a clue. Then again you
can choose to disregard the white omens.
Then they’ll mean nothing.”
“All
these double meanings. Isn’t anything in
sorcery effortless?” I took a bite of my scone.
“You
have to let it flow. The craft is not
about struggle,” he said matter-of-factly.
I
slid a cat eye glance to him. “Is the
craft easy for you?”
“Sometimes. Right now I’m staying on the path, trying to
find the best way. Loving you is
easy. Sweetheart, loving you makes
everything seem easier.”
We
left the café over an hour later when Renata was cleaning pastry cabinets and
removing a few remaining items from shelves.
We would have stayed longer, but she was shutting her place down for the
day obviously, although she said there was no hurry.
A
cold draft instantly enveloped Owen and I as we walked arm in arm to my
car. Too many thoughts were on my
mind. Although my intention was to be
mature, I was having a hard time.
For
one thing, rain in our valley meant snow on mountain passes. I couldn’t help but caution my boyfriend as I
knew he would be traveling on that highway to Vancouver . He tried to comfort me by saying winter tires
on the Jeep were very reliable. Even a
warlock could spin out of control on icy roads, I thought to myself.
But
I didn’t want any of these unsightly scenarios circulating in my head. I had to think positive. Another picture replaced the first one in my
imagination. Maybe the second scene
wasn’t as scary in some ways but it bothered me. An image of StoneHinge playing the gig in
Vancouver… my boy angel looking so gorgeous onstage with lots of girls in
skimpy tight clothing, dancing in front of the band, right below his feet.
That
image didn’t please me either so I imagined a third possibility – the
Blacklords in a gang, outnumbering my warlock or who knows what they would be
capable of?
Suddenly
I was shivering and not just from effects of cold rain pelting down on us as we
stood beside my car. He put his arms
around my shoulders, in a motion both comforting and sensual and I clung to
him. My arms, warm under his jacket,
encircled his waist. A huge lump formed
in my throat.
Two
weeks. Anything could happen in two
weeks, especially with text messaging as the only option of communication. There would be no tender spoken words to
treasure, day after day.
I
bravely raised my face to meet his silver penetrating eyes, more metallic in
the rain. He wasn’t just a boy. What had I gotten myself into? A waiting game of tension and wondering?
No,
it wasn’t going to be like that. I would
fill my days while he was gone. Catch up
on stuff I’d been meaning to do, like…I couldn’t think of anything. All I could see was Owen, looking straight
into me at that moment. His lips were
hot against mine. They seared away the
lump in my throat and heat raced through my body. Again, like always, I wanted more. He was my light colored angel, my dark
narcotic obsession, lord of the occult.
I
gasped briefly for air, my eyes closing and head back, reeling in his embrace.
Quickly like the lightning bolt flashing above us, my lips found his mouth
again as electricity surged through our joined bodies. Thunder cracked loudly not a second later,
loud as an amplifier at a rock concert.
It shook us.
I
drew back, completely unsure if lightning had struck very close or if my
warlock had performed magic.
“Oh
my god, did you do that on purpose?” I was a bit delirious recovering from his
charged embrace.
“Are
you referring to our kiss or the lightning?” he mused.
“Both,”
I suddenly realized. “When we’re holding
each other, when we kiss – I never want to stop.”
“You
think I do?” He peered at me, his eyelashes damp. He pushed a wet strand of hair from his
face. “I don’t think we have to
stop. I want all of you.”
“Out
here in the rain?” I half smiled, flirting.
“No,
not out here.” His intense voice sliced through air. “But I want you so much. I don’t think I had anything to do with the
lightning and thunder. Who knows? Your energy field is strong. Maybe we’re at the right place at the right
time.”
I
stared incredulously. He was serious,
standing like a dream, beautiful and mesmerizing….and leaving me too soon.
