She could see the disappointment in his eyes. He was counting on this. Hell, so was she.
“Fine.” They’d find another way. Another way to locate a witch who might or might not still be in the area. By now she could have taken a plane — or, hell, her broomstick—to Tahiti.
She rolled her chair over to her desk and reached into the bottom drawer to pull out her worn deck of tarot cards. She hadn’t used them since she was let go from Psychic Connexions. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
The phone rang and Andy grabbed it and started chatting to someone in a happy, animated manner. His problems were solved. Hers were only beginning.
“What are you doing?” Darrak asked, his voice tense.
“I’m grasping at straws.”
“Looks like a deck of tarot cards to me.”
“I’m going to see if I can figure out what direction to go from here. It’s not my love life or job prospects, but it’s worth a shot.”
“You don’t think you can just concentrate very hard and pull the witch’s location out of thin air? I know you’ve done that before.”
“One thing at a time.” She closed her eyes, focused on what she wanted, and flipped over one card. That was usually all she needed.
It was the Strength card, inverted.
“Well, that’s not good,” she said.
He’d moved to stand behind her and looked over her shoulder. “What does that mean?”
“The pathetic defeat of losers?”
“That’s the literal meaning?”
“No. But that’s what I’m seeing.” She flipped another card.
The Devil.
Well, that was not too surprising.
Darrak glanced down. “Okay. And what does that mean? Let me guess, true evil?”
“Not in its upright position.” She cleared her throat. “No, I find that it usually means… uh, sexual obsession. Sometimes. And, you know, lust. And stuff like that.”
“The Devil card represents lust?”
She waved a hand. “Among many, many other interpretations.”
“And yet that’s how you interpreted it. You, who are an insightful psychically gifted expert in this sort of thing.”
“I never called myself an expert. I’m an enthusiastic amateur. I can also do some really cool card tricks if I’m so inclined.”
Despite his disappointment that their road to finding the witch was not going smoothly, he looked slightly amused. “Lust, huh?”
“Possibly lust for money. Material possessions.”
“Or?”
She refused to think about waking up in Darrak’s arms that morning and feeling more than a healthy dose of lustfulness. “I’m going to try to concentrate and pinpoint your witch’s position now. No more talking.”
“Take all the time you need.”
She closed her eyes — pushed all thoughts of a naked Darrak out of her mind — and tried to do her thing. Whatever that thing was. Damn, she wished she could control it better. It was like playing roulette. Sometimes her number came up, but usually she just lost time and money trying.
The door jingled and her eyes snapped open to see Nancy, the assistant manager of Hot Stuff, enter with a tray full of coffee and pastries. Andy waved her over to his desk.
Eden closed her eyes and tried to think “witch.”
Instead, she smelled coffee and cinnamon.
Mmm. Freshly baked cinnamon buns. It made her stomach growl loudly.
“Hey!” Nancy exclaimed. “Oh, my God. I love her so much. I can’t wait to see her at the reading tonight. Are you going?”
Eden’s eyes snapped open.
Andy frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
Nancy grabbed the sketch of the witch that Darrak did yesterday. “Selina Shaw, of course. She so rocks.”
Eden was on her feet and over on the other side of the room so fast it could have been some kind of a record.
“You know who this woman is?” she asked.
Nancy nodded. “Of course I do. Doesn’t everyone?” “Well, I don’t. Who is she?”
“Selina Shaw.”
“Who is Selina Shaw?”
“Only the coolest writer on the planet.”
“She’s a writer? Like a novelist?”
“No, no. She writes books that empower women and help them find their inner strength and harmony.”
“She writes self-help books?” Eden asked carefully, thinking she might be misunderstanding.
“Not self-help,” Nancy said it as if it was an insult. “Her books transcend self-help. Selina Shaw is the Love Witch. I heard she even trademarked the phrase.”
“Love Witch,” Darrak repeated dryly.