Foretell (21 page)

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “How
about.
. .”

I waited, breathing in and out, deeply. Suddenly, Rex cupped my face. I looked at him, bewildered by the strange gesture. Rex brought his mouth down against mine, light as a feather, and kissed me. Our lips touched for one enthralling moment before he pulled away.

Still holding my face in my hands, he searched my eyes. “Better?”

I listened for my rampant heart. It was still frantic, but not in a scary way.

“Oddly, yeah,” I replied, nodding. “It is better.”

Idiot. I should have asked him to do it again.
More thoroughly this time.

I looked into Rex’s eyes, seeing the amber shade glow warmly. There was a strange fascination within them. He was looking at me as if he hadn’t expected to feel whatever it was that just passed between us.

“You’re falling for me.” I smiled.

He snorted. “I most definitely am not falling for you.”

I ignored his statement. “You are,” I said confidently.

He groaned softly. “I was only trying to distract you from your anxiety,” he insisted. “Don’t put anymore stock into it than that.”

Something was off with him. He seemed really uncomfortable, as if the room was caving in on us and he needed to get out of there quickly.

I smiled victoriously, not believing his lies for a second. “Well, it worked,” I said. “So thanks. I’m ready to go find the witch now.”

“After you.” He opened the closet door, gesturing for me to exit.

We walked through the crowd of partiers in search of Marcellus. This time I was able to breathe easier, thankfully.

I tapped the shoulder of a woman dressed in a silky green dress. After she turned to face me, I yelled over the music, “Do you know where Marcellus is?”

She appeared confused. “Do you mean Marc?”

I nodded. “I think so. The guy that owns this place,” I clarified.

“Last time I saw Marc,” she said. “He was out on the patio.” She lifted a slender, diamond-encrusted wrist to motion towards the back of the apartment. “Over there.”

“Thanks for your help,” I said.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “By the way, I like this dress better than the yellow.”

“What?” I asked, not sure if I’d heard her correctly.

But my question went unheard beneath the loud music, as the woman had already turned away.

Rex pointed to sliding glass doors leading to the terrace. He leaned close, shouting, “I think that’s him.”

I moved closer, in order to get a good look.

There was a man sitting at a table by the ledge of the balcony. He was probably in his late forties. He had dark brown hair with subtle streaks of gray. He wore a well-tailored suit and smoked a cigar. He didn’t look like a witch, I mused. Then again, that was just the gypsy word for whatever he actually was.

“How do you know it’s him?” I asked Rex.

“I don’t,” he replied. “I’m only guessing. The people flocking around him look excited to be here. He looks bored.”

I inhaled, taking a final, deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” I said to myself. Pulling back my shoulders, I headed out to the patio and walked straight towards the man with the cigar.

He was sitting there, gazing into the crowd and blowing out hazy clouds of smoke. I cleared my throat in order to get his attention. His movements were dreadfully slow, similar to someone who was stoned. He lifted his gaze to meet mine.

“Marcellus de Clemente?”

He stared at me for one long, painful moment. Then he smiled. “Hello, Serena,” he said. “What a nice surprise.”

Marcellus offered me a drink from his liquor cabinet, which I declined. He poured one for
himself,
likely in preparation for the uncomfortable conversation he knew we were bound to have.

At least he agreed to speak in private. He showed me to his office in order to escape the party noise. He wouldn’t, however, let Rex join us.

“It’s okay,” I said to Rex when he’d tried to come with me. “I’ll let you know if I need you.”

Rex had not been very happy about that. He insisted on waiting directly outside the door, and told me to shout if I ran into any trouble.

Marcellus didn’t seem like a man who could be bullied though. He had a team of security guards who followed him wherever he went. Even now, there were members of that security team who waited alongside Rex behind the door.

“So it’s Estelle now,” Marcellus said, pronouncing each of the syllables thoroughly. “Where’d you get that God-awful name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It was my grandmother’s,” I answered coolly.

There was something about his presence that bothered me. Everything about him, his entire demeanor, even the sound of his voice set me off. My dislike of him was becoming increasingly apparent.
Hardly a surprise.
He had cursed me, after all.

“What’s this?” he asked. “Don’t gypsies usually revert back to whatever name they like the best?”

“I’m not a gypsy,” I explained. “Well, I wasn’t born into a gypsy’s life anyway.”

“Ah,” he said. He threw back a shot of whatever he’d poured in his glass. “That makes sense. I suppose it’s the work of Zetta, eh?”

“You know Zetta?” I asked, dumbfounded.

He looked at me strangely for a few moments, seemingly confused. “What is it you’re getting at, Serena?” He shook his head, correcting his blunder. “Estelle, I mean.”

“Sorry,” I said, realizing my own mistake. “I should probably mention how I don’t remember anything.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember anything from the past,” I clarified. “Which is also Zetta’s doing.
”

He nodded, understanding. “If you remembered your past, you probably wouldn’t be here right now.”

“I probably shouldn’t be here,” I agreed. “I know you’ve cursed me. For what, I can’t remember. But I’ve come to beg you, Marcellus, to forgive me. I sincerely apologize for how ever I’ve wronged you.”

He paused for a moment, grasping the situation. Then he chuckled softly, almost regretfully. “I wish I could, Estelle. You’ve no idea how much I wish I could.”

I couldn’t accept his cryptic statement for what it was. “Please,” I pleaded. “I’m sure you only meant to punish me, but you’ve no idea how much damage I’m capable of.”

Marcellus poured himself another drink and gestured for me to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk. I sat down, and he followed suit.

“It’s ironic,” he said. “That we keep meeting like this. The first time I laid eyes on you was in a study very similar to this office.”

I looked around, sensing he’d spoken the truth. The room was decorated in traditional furniture and fabrics, unlike the rest of the modern-styled condo. The setting seemed eerily familiar, causing me to experience a heavy bout of déjà vu.

“Anyway,” he continued. “I appreciate your apology, though it’s ill-served. I can’t reverse the curse.”

“B-but you have to,” I sputtered. “You’re the only one who can.”

“That, my dear, I highly doubt is true. But I can’t reverse it. I don’t even have the capability to do so anymore.”

A tidal wave of disappointment crashed over me. “Why?”

“Mother Nature’s way of telling me I’ve disappointed her, I’m sure. Look at me Estelle.”

I looked Marcellus directly in the eyes.

“I’m getting old,” he said bitterly. “And it’s my own fault. I should’ve lived for an eternity. My kind rarely age. Yet, here I am, aging.”

I didn’t think he looked that old. Probably mid-forties, his dark hair
was
lightly peppered with gray. His face bore no wrinkles though. There was no other evidence to attest to his aging.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Eventually, he opened them up again, and met my disheartened gaze. “There were others who warned me I was being foolish,” he explained. “I didn’t want to listen to them. I used my abilities to serve myself and myself alone, which set the natural order of things off balance. My abilities faded until they were nothing. I even have trouble with my herb
garden,
it’s gotten so bad. But it’s my burden to bear. This is why, as much as I’d like to say otherwise, I cannot help you reverse the curse.”

“You’re saying you don’t possess an ounce of magic?”

He shook his head. “Not a drop.”

It was my turn to sigh. I did so, feeling the pent up hope deflating from my body. How could I have come so far and gone through so much, just to be led straight into a dead-end? It didn’t seem fair.

I grasped onto something Marcellus had said. “You mentioned it’s possible for someone else to reverse it,” I pointed out. “Do you know of anyone?”

“I’ve no idea, to be honest. The people in my old circles ended their friendships with me decades ago.” He paused, contemplating. “You may be able to break it yourself, if you’ve a mind to.”

I snorted at that. “I’ve strained against it so many times I’ve nearly passed out from exhaustion. If there’s a way to break it, it can’t be done by me.”

He considered what I’d said, but still seemed skeptical. “You may surprise yourself. Perhaps you only need to find the right reasons to break it.”

“As much as I’d like to believe that, I just can’t. Not after everything I’ve been through.”

Marcellus stood up, signaling the end of our conversation. “For what it’s worth, Estelle, I’m sorry.”

His apology would be a difficult one to accept. I was undeniably angry with him, though I was keeping it well contained. I could cheerfully murder Marcellus for what he’d done.

“I suppose you got what was coming to you,” I allowed. And it was true. He could no longer practice the art of magic. He wouldn’t have the opportunity to do this to anyone else. That, if nothing else, should relieve me.

I thought about asking him why he’d cursed me. I was halfway out the door, my mouth open, yet the words hung on my lips. I closed my mouth, too fearful of what I’d find out.

At least I found him, I thought. I did what I’d set out to do, even if it was all for nothing. I would have the satisfaction of knowing that.

I stepped outside of the office doors, feeling a tiny bit better.

“By the way,” Marcellus called out. “There is a young singer here tonight. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”

I stiffened. “I don’t suppose her name is Indie Spencer?”

“That’s her.” Marcellus smiled. “She’s good friends with T.J. She flew all the way up from L.A. to celebrate his birthday.”

The tall blonde I’d spoken to earlier came to mind.
I like this dress better than the yellow, she’d said
.

I played it cool in front of Marcellus, wondering if he knew I was Indie’s sister. “I get that all the time,” I told him.

I reached for Rex’s arm. “We have to go,” I said. “Now.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Rex asked, as we rushed through the crowd. “Did the witch remove the curse?”

“He can’t,” I said over my shoulder. “He no longer has the ability.”

Rex stopped in the middle of the crowd, forcing me to stop with him. I turned to face him.

“Do you believe him?” he asked.

I slowly nodded. “He was telling the truth.”

“So why aren’t you taking this harder?”

My gaze traveled downwards. I stared at the floor, softly sighing.

“Essie,” he prodded. “Are you okay?”

“I just can’t do this right now.” I felt the tears welling in my eyes, but I refused to cry. “I can’t break down.” My voice was barely audible over the music, but he seemed to figure out what I’d said.

Of course I took it hard, but it never occurred to me this would be a huge disappointment for Rex, too. He believed in me. I dragged him along with me on this stupid quest to find Marcellus, and in the end, it had all been for nothing.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

I nodded and we both turned to leave, heading for the elevator. As soon as I made my way out of the crowd, I stopped in my tracks.

I found myself standing face to face with my little sister.

Indie crossed her arms over her chest and angled a brow. She stood like that, resting her weight on one hip while eyeing me up and down. “My, my,” she said, plastering on a tight smile. “What have we here?”

“Indie,” I greeted her casually.

“Essie,” she returned coldly. “Where’ve you been?”

“Around.”

“Evasive these days, I see.” She peered over my shoulder, her gaze traveling towards Rex. “Who’s the hottie behind you? Is he the reason you ran away from home?”

Rex moved to stand beside me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was a stony mask.

I merely shrugged. “Maybe.” I didn’t care if they thought I’d left for a guy. I wished that were the case, anyway.

She scrutinized both of us, crossing her arms and tapping her foot against the ground. Unexpectedly, I saw the tension leave her face. “I’ve missed you,” she admitted ruefully.