Woman King Page 3

  Throughout the following week, I followed the same pattern. I drank all night and slept all day. As the week progressed, I grew inexplicably more despondent, ignoring my office altogether. Although what I was doing would only make matters worse, I could not seem to help myself. By the fifth night, as I fumbled to open my front door, I felt angry. I don’t know how long that emotion had been lurking in my psyche, but by the time I turned the key in the lock, I was more furious than ever.

  “What the hell is happening?” I yelled out to no one in particular. I lived alone and had no pets, so I was unconcerned that anyone would hear me. I threw my purse on the floor and stomped into the kitchen. As I stormed through the doorway, I caught my elbow sharply on the frame. Crying out in pain, I slumped to the floor sobbing as I cradled my injured arm.

  I was angry that I had bumped my arm. I was angry that I was behaving like my mother, staying drunk for a week to avoid what was bothering me. Then, my thoughts drifted back to what I had been avoiding all week: Stoner Halbert. I had to return to work and face my clients. I had to work with him. I could feel the unmistakable sensation of someone gaining on me, and I feared soon I would have no business to go back to.

  “What did I do to deserve this?” I cried out again into the emptiness of my kitchen. “What I am I supposed to do?”

  Still holding my arm. I slid across the floor and propped myself against one of the cabinets. As I sat on the floor of my kitchen crying, the image of the black cat from my dreams popped into my head.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you want?” I murmured, my head resting against the cabinet, my eyes closed. “Please, speak to me.”

  Not long after I said those words, I fell asleep on the kitchen floor.

  ****

  CHAPTER 5

  When I awoke the next morning, I felt very cold. Then I realized that I was not in bed. Had I somehow failed to make it home? Slowly, I began to remember the details of the previous evening and I opened one eye. I was sprawled out on the floor of my kitchen. My body was stiff from sleeping on the hard stone floor, and I was chilled to the bone, having slept without the benefit of a coat or blanket. I was about to get up when I heard a voice speak to me.

  “Let me help you up,” the woman said, her speech revealing a hint of a foreign accent I could not place.

  “Lily?” I asked aloud, thinking I was too hung-over to recognize my friend’s voice. Maybe I had let her in last night, or maybe I had called her and she had used her key. Either way I was glad that she was there.

  “It’s not Lily,” the voice said. “Open your eyes, Olivia.”

  I did as I was told and promptly let out a scream as my eyes focused on the figure standing in my kitchen. It was not Lily. I had never seen this woman before.

  “Who are you and how did you get into my house?” I asked, wondering if I had managed to leave the door open. Maybe some deranged person had walked in off the street. I did live in a city, after all. I began calculating how quickly I could get to the phone and call the police. But as I glanced at her more closely, I saw that she didn’t look homeless. She seemed about my age and was tall, slightly more so than Lily. She also had long black hair, but it seemed almost darker than black, like the color of a raven’s wing, or say, maybe, a panther. She was wearing skintight leather pants and a dark sweater. The fingers on her hands were long and slender and adorned with several silver rings. She wore a small silver hoop through one of her eyebrows, which framed green eyes that almost glowed like a cat’s. I was beginning to see a pattern that unnerved me.

  “Are you the panther?” I asked, shocked at the absurdity of my question.

  The woman nodded. “You did invite me here, Olivia. You asked me to come and tell you what I had to say.”

  Too stunned for words, I began to question whether I was losing my mind. All this time I had worried my mother would be the one to become ill, now it seemed I had it backwards. I sat motionless for a moment and stared.

  “This is your problem, Olivia,” she said. “I’ve been watching you for several weeks and you haven’t lifted a finger to help yourself. Get up off the floor. Stand up.”

  The woman offered me her hand. I grabbed it and felt the warm flesh of a human being against my palm.

  “How is this possible?” I murmured as I rose. “Are you really here? I’m not hallucinating?”

  “I’m real,” she said. “As real as Stoner Halbert, only I have come to help you.”

  “How do you know about him?” I asked. “How do you know about me?”

  “Your grandmother sent me,” she said. “Bella chose me to watch over you when you were born. When you ran into trouble with Stoner, I expected you to summon me, but you do not practice the old ways of your family. I’ve been forced to appear in your dreams to get your attention.”

  “Summon you. I have no idea how to do that,” I said, my tongue slightly swollen in my mouth. “I had no idea my grandmother could do that sort of thing. I was drunk and angry last night. I didn’t know my outburst would result … well, that it would bring you here.”

  The woman laughed. “There is a lot about this world you don’t know, Olivia, and that has put you in harm’s way.”

  I walked slowly to a barstool and sat down. It was too much. Not for the first time that week, my head was pounding and I was exhausted. Now there was a strange woman in my house claiming to be my guardian angel. I couldn’t imagine what would happen next. I decided to make an espresso, and find out.

  “Do you drink coffee?” I asked and then paused and extended my hand in a way that said I’d like to call you by a name.

  “It’s Elsa,” she said. “And tea, please.”

  “Elsa,” I repeated back. “I have Earl Grey and green tea.”

  “Earl Grey,” she said, and I began to fix our drinks.

  I set two warm mugs on the counter. Elsa took the bar stool across from mine and began to sip her tea. She seemed to savor it more than the normal person would.

  “Don’t they have tea where you’re from?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been called to your world. I remember now how nice it is to visit.”

  “What do you mean, my world? Are you dead?”

  “No, not dead. Unable to move on,” she said without a trace of sarcasm. “As you may have guessed, I’m not from this time. But I do live in your century regularly now.”

  Perhaps it was the combination of fear and a raging hangover, but I was unable to keep up the light banter and decided to put my questions to her. “Why are you here? What have you been trying to tell me?”

  Elsa put down her cup and saucer and turned to face me. “I came because your grandmother feared what would happen if you continued to block your gift. Before her death, she summoned me and told me she had seen a vision in which you were in danger. She asked me to visit you periodically and ensure you remain unharmed. For many months I watched and saw nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “And now?”

  “Now? You’re in danger. It may have seemed wise at the time to not use your powers, Olivia, but turning off your instincts has made you vulnerable. You’re not even trying to sense when you’re in danger. It’s why Stoner Halbert’s demon picked you.”

  This remark caused me to drop my coffee mug on the marble counter where it promptly broke into several pieces.

  “I’m sorry, did you say demon?”

  Elsa sighed. “I can see we will have to start at the beginning. Your friend Mr. Halbert has been dabbling in black magic. After his wife ruined him, he sought revenge and became interested in the occult. He has managed to conjure up a minor demon that promises him great wealth. The demon has given him an advantage, a sort of influence…and he is using it against you and others.”

  “Why me?”

  Elsa seemed to pause for a moment. “What’s the expression? You are a sitting duck. The Others can see that you have intentionally blocked off your senses. It makes you an easy target for their mischief. Halbert’s demon
has gone in search of the most vulnerable. An empath who refuses to listen her instincts? That is an easy mark.”

  “Why should I believe any of this is real or true?” I asked, now frightened beyond measure. To cover my feelings, I leaned down to pick up the broken porcelain pieces.

  Either I was having a complete mental breakdown, or there was a spirit guide in my kitchen discussing a demon. My grandmother had told me stories when I was a child of the time-walkers who visited her village in Scotland. In her tales, they brought news of loved ones and warned of impending dangers. Free to move between the past and the future, these witches were welcomed cautiously by the villagers and warmly by women like my grandmother, who had their own gifts. I always thought they were part of a charming folklore, the stuff packed into books in the library.

  Elsa smiled and set down her teacup. “It’s nice to see you get angry, Olivia. It’s long overdue, but welcome. Who do you think I am then, if not someone sent here to help you? I could have killed you while you were passed out in your kitchen. And yet, here I am and you’re still alive.”

  “That’s my point,” I said. “You could be anyone. You could be some con artist off the street. Why should I believe you?”

  “How would I know about your gifts if not for your grandmother?” Elsa asked. “You can try to pretend you’re not connected to any of this, Olivia, but your grandmother was a great seer. Your mother is extremely receptive. The fact that you have ignored your lineage doesn’t erase the connections.”

  The mention of my mother sent my head spinning. Demons. Spirit guides. It was all too much. I knew Elsa wasn’t a vagrant off the street. Her arrival at the moment I asked for her could only be connected to my dreams. But I wasn’t ready to face these facts.

  “I’m tired. I think you should leave and come back another time when I feel up to a discussion,” I said, walking toward my front door and opening it.

  Elsa stared at me, a look of fury in her eyes. “Do you really think you can avoid me like you’ve avoided everything else? You asked me to come!”

  I nodded. “I didn’t know what I was asking for. I don’t know why my grandmother sent you, but I don’t need your help. I will get some rest and fix everything tomorrow.”

  “You cannot fight the demon without my help, Olivia. You need me.”

  “That’s exactly my point,” I said as I ushered her to the stoop. “I don’t intend to fight.”

  I shut the door, managed to walk upstairs to my bedroom, and I started to cry.

  “God damn it,” I screamed as I tossed a pillow across the room. “God damn it!” I had asked her to come, but I truly meant it when I said I didn’t know what I was asking for. What did I need? An exorcist? A psychiatrist?

  My mother and all of her warnings came back to me. I was hunched over on the edge of my bed sobbing, when my phone beeped, signaling a text. I picked up my mobile from my nightstand. There, blinking, was a message from Stoner Halbert. I glanced at his message:

  Olivia, where R U?

  Client has asked me 2 B project manager.

  I’m up three to nothing, and we’re only in the second inning.

  I threw the phone across the room, feeling sick to my stomach. I managed to make it to my bathroom before I began to vomit. Why, why was this happening to me? In all my life I had never harmed a soul. My only weakness, if you could call it one, was that I had refused to accept my Gift. I had forsaken my emotions for logic, relying on the power of reason to solve my problems. Now though, it seemed that logic could be easily overpowered by magic, for no reason at all.

  I leaned against the edge of my toilet wiping a cold cloth across my lips. I hadn’t given Halbert my phone number. I had to suppose my ex-client had turned it over. I felt trapped inside my house like a mouse in a cage. Would I find him waiting for me outside one day? Elsa was right. For once, I couldn’t fix a problem on my own. I needed help. I knew she would come again if I called her.

  “Come back,” I said, more quietly than I intended as I walked to my bed to lie down. “Please come back.”

  I awoke several hours later from a dreamless sleep. I climbed out of bed slowly and grabbed a robe from a chair nearby. I walked into the bathroom to look in the mirror. The face staring back, while worn and puffy, didn’t seem any different. I had no marks on my body, no bumps, no bruises or scars.

  Whatever Halbert was doing to me, it was all in my mind. I shook my head ruefully. He would drive me crazy if things continued this way. Normally, I was the queen of calm, never showing the world if I had a problem. But this much upheaval was bad for business. I would never be able to keep a poker face in public now.

  I began to panic again, thinking about Halbert. I sat down on the edge of the tub to calm myself. It was at that moment, that I heard the sound of the television coming from the living room downstairs. I hoped it was Elsa, or maybe Lily had let herself in. I walked downstairs and found Elsa sitting on the couch, her shoes and socks off, watching a reality TV program that appeared to center on second marriages and Botox.

  “You know, that stuff will kill you,” I said, relieved that she had returned.

  “It’s fascinating,” Elsa said, looking away from the television screen. “Do people really spend their time watching this stuff?”

  “Yes. Quite a few people; these programs are very popular.”

  Elsa shook her head and clicked off the program. “It’s no wonder the Council is worried.”

  “The Council?”

  “Later. It’s too complicated. How are you feeling?”

  “Better, but I have been thinking about what you said to me. I want to know what’s happening to me and I want your help.”

  “It’s the demon,” Elsa said rising from the couch. “He is a minor demon of the lowest order. Halbert is not skilled enough yet in the dark arts to conjure a major demon, but this one is still a demon. Their job is to harm their caller’s adversaries.”

  “How?” I asked. “Do they use physical pain?”

  Elsa shook her head. “Not this demon. He’s not designed to cause physical pain; he’s subtler. Have you been acting odd lately? Acting in ways that are unusual for you?”

  I nodded. “When I visited my mother recently, I told her I didn’t feel like myself.”

  “What did she say?”

  I was about to admit my mother had been right about something and it made me uncomfortable. “She said that as long as I ignored my gift, I wasn’t really myself.”

  “She was right. You have cut yourself off from your true nature and the source of your power. When you do that, it is very easy for an Other to knock you off balance.”

  “What is an ‘Other?’ ”

  “An Other is someone like me, or a vampire or a demon. There are humans, and there are the Others.”

  “What do you mean knock me off balance?”

  “You said it… you don’t feel like yourself. Have you been more argumentative? Have you been over-confident that things will be fine, when in reality they are getting worse?”

  Again, I nodded.

  “That’s the demon.”

  It was a relief to hear someone tell me I wasn’t going crazy, or that the events of the last few weeks were not totally my fault, and yet the joy of reassurance was overshadowed by her explanation. I was being plagued by a demon? To hear it described in such dispassionate tones was unsettling.

  “Am I under the control of this demon now?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “Yes and no. There have been moments when the demon cast spells that made you act badly, or he flummoxed you. And he is working spells and charms on your clients. How else do you explain walking away from your work, or that a client asked you to bring Halbert on your team? But he has not tried to possess you physically. Once I began to appear in your dreams, I placed a protective spell on you to limit his manipulations.”

  “Why just limit things?” I asked. “Can you stop this?”

  “It all depends on you, Olivia. You we
re born with abilities that should make it difficult or impossible for a demon to target you. You would have known that the emotions you experienced were not your own. It’s even possible you would have felt the presence of the Other. We won’t know until we open your senses and see what kind of gifts you really have.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to ‘open my senses,’ ” I said. “I don’t want to feel more emotion. I want your help to get rid of this demon and go back to work.”

  Elsa picked up her shoes and socks and began to put them on.

  “This time I’m leaving,” she said. “It’s obvious that you are not prepared to deal with the situation and I can’t help someone who won’t help herself. This isn’t a school project that you can ask your parents to fix. You are a grown woman in trouble—a trouble only you can make disappear. If you won’t help yourself, then there is nothing I can do.”

  “What happens if you go?”

  “More of the same, only minus me in your dreams,” Elsa said. “Halbert will continue to take what he wants from you until there is nothing left.”

  She used my pride against me, and it worked. I couldn’t stand the idea of losing my business to him that way—stripped to the bone, all my clients and past successes erased.

  “OK,” I said, swallowing hard at what was unfolding. “What do I have to do?”

  Elsa smiled. “I am glad you asked.”

  ****

  CHAPTER 6

  Elsa asked me either to close my business or take a leave of absence. Both suggestions seemed too dramatic, so I put her off, saying I would start with a vacation. I informed my remaining clients I would be out again for several weeks. Then I called my staff and apologized profusely for being out of touch, giving them all modest pay raises as encouragement to stay on and manage things while I was away.