Soothsayer: Magic Is All Around Us (Soothsayer Series Book 1) (13 page)

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, this is all a lot to take in,” I lied. Something weird was definitely happening to me.

“If you want, we can talk more tomorrow,” he said, smiling reassuringly.

“I’m too keyed up to do anything else. Besides, we still haven’t resolved why you think you have to stay here.” I cocked my head to the side, waiting for an explanation.

“You really are difficult aren’t you,” he chuckled. “Look, I’m not leaving you unprotected so you’re just going to have to get used to it. You almost died once under my watch. I won’t let anything like that happen again.”

“And what, I have no say in any of this?” I retorted.

He sighed then looked up at me. “Violet, if you’re really uncomfortable with me being here then I can send over Brett or Annabel but someone has to stay with you now that we know for sure. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.” His eyes burned into mine, melting me from the inside out. My daydream had left me distracted and wanting to close the distance between us.

“It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with you being here,” I admitted as I finally exhaled.

“Then what?” he asked.

“I just don’t like…” I paused. “I don’t like feeling so helpless.” I looked down, ashamed as my fingers fiddled with the tie on my shorts.

“You’re not helpless, quite the opposite.” He smiled and his russet eyes burned with a quiet reverence that made my heart skip a beat. The way he looked at me proved how much he believed I was something special, that I was The Waker.

“So tell me more about this Belinda person,” I asked, trying to refocus the conversation. “Why does everyone take everything she says at face value?” I still didn’t buy the whole psychic thing.

“To start, she hasn’t been the only one to name you as The Waker.”

“Do you really have to keep calling me that?”

“What would you like me to call you?” An innocent looking smile spread across his face and I faltered at how gorgeous he looked.

“I don’t know, I just don’t like being referred to as The Waker. It’s too weird for me.” I shrugged, trying not to come off too harsh.

“Alright then. Belinda hasn’t been the only one to see…” Robert paused. “How important you are.” His voice sounded strained as he spoke the last few words. He was trying to keep things light for my sake but I could tell by the tension in his shoulders how much it frustrated him that I wasn’t taking him seriously.

“There have been others,” I said and swallowed. “Like Belinda?”

“Of course. A few are born every generation and they’ve all seen you.”

“But how do you know they just haven’t heard it from someone else and then repeated it?” I frowned, starting to get a little uneasy. What if this was all true?
What if I was… The Waker.
I forced myself to think the words. Then what would I do?

“The vision is passed down from Soothsayer to Soothsayer, but each time the next generation discovers more information that wasn’t known before,” Robert explained.

“More information?” I asked.

“Yes. For instance, the very first vision contained your name and that you would carry the mark of your bloodline."
He pointed to my necklace.

My fingers went to the pendant I always kept around my neck. As I looked at the three
crescent
moons placed back to back and held together by Celtic swirls, the metal felt heavier with the weight of his words.

"The next generation’s vision showed that you would be born in America, and so on and so forth until the most recent vision told us exactly where to look for you.”

“You knew where to find me?”

“It’s not a coincidence my family was one of the founding residents here in Pismo. We knew you’d eventually end up here. It was just a matter of time.”

“But why did you have to ask the families in England about other prospects if you knew I’d end up here?” I asked, hoping that maybe he did get it wrong and the real Waker was still out there.

“We knew you would be here in Pismo eventually but we didn’t know when. You could have been the wrong Violet, except I knew otherwise,” he said with an air of confidence. “I still had to make sure that no one had any other leads.”

I let out a long breath. “So everything’s just set in stone? I’m not sure I like not being in control of who I am and what my purpose is. Is there really no free will?”

“Of course there’s free will. You can choose not to believe me. You can choose not to do anything with the information I give you.”

“And what if that’s what I do? What if I don’t believe you?”

“Then that’s your choice, but the world you’re fighting so hard to hold onto, the world you knew before I came into your life, won’t exist anymore. No matter what your choice is, nothing will ever be the same again. So it’s up to you.” His voice was light but his face was cold, hard and deadly serious. He tried to hide how important it was to him that I make the right decision, but I could see it in his eyes that he hoped I wouldn’t walk away from all of this.

“I just don’t know what to do or what to believe anymore. None of this seems possible; you shouldn’t have been able to save me but you did and now all this talk about Soothsayers… How am I supposed to know what’s real anymore?” I gaped at him, completely lost.

“How?” I whispered.

“No one expects you to just jump right in. As much as I’m here to protect you, I’m also here to help you through all of this,” he said and put his hand on my knee. A jolt of emotion ran through me, the same emotion I felt when he kissed me. Well, kissed me in my fantasy.

I took a deep breath and pulled his hand off.

“I’m sorry, I was just trying to comfort you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said and shifted on the couch to move away from me.

“It’s not that, it’s just…” I broke off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. What was I supposed to say,
it’s just that, I keep having these intense visions every time you touch me.
I laughed a short, humorless laugh and shook my head. No, I couldn’t say that.

“What?” Robert asked, half smiling.

“It’s nothing. You don’t make me uncomfortable.” I tried to reassure him. I didn’t feel uncomfortable with him. I actually felt very comfortable and at ease with him. “It’s just been a long day. I think maybe I’ll head to bed.” I smiled, trying to hide the knowledge that I wasn’t going to get any sleep with him in the other room.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, the question of him staying here tonight lingering between us.

“You can stay, for
now
,” I said, rising from the couch. “But this isn’t going to be a permanent situation.” I didn’t want to give in, but he wasn’t going to give up and I was done arguing with him for one night.

Even though I didn’t know any of the Maxwells all that well, I felt the most comfortable with Robert. I knew that if anything happened to me he would be able to save me. Which made me wonder what Brett and Annabel were able to do if he was willing to let them protect me instead of himself. I suppressed the thought; I had enough to worry about without adding more questions to the overflowing pile at hand.

“Thank you, Violet. I promise I won’t be in your way,” Robert promised.

“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow,” I said and moved around the couch, heading to the linen closet.

Even though I still didn’t have very many answers, I felt oddly comforted that I wasn’t alone in this anymore. If there was one thing I could believe out of everything Robert had told me today, I believed he really was here to help me.

I walked back to the living room where I found Robert rearranging the throw pillows on the couch.

“Here you go.” I handed him a couple blankets and a real pillow.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling with sincerity.

“The bathroom is down the hall, first door on the right. Extra towels are under the sink.”

“I appreciate it. Good night, Violet.”

“Night.”

As I passed the front door, habit forced me to make sure it was locked. Unease settled in my chest at the realization that a locked door probably couldn’t stop whomever was coming after me. With that thought fresh in my mind, I picked up the baseball bat and carried it off to bed.

My alarm exploded into a frenzy of angry buzzing announcing my seven-thirty wakeup call. I groaned and rolled over, turning the alarm off. Sitting up I stretched my arms over my head and my stomach growled at the scent of bacon and cinnamon wafting through the room.

I threw myself back down on the bed. How did I get myself into this mess? I barely knew Robert and already he was staying in my house, making breakfast and telling me stories about psychics and prophecies.

My life had really taken a sharp left turn to crazy town. Reluctantly, I mustered the strength to get up and hop in the shower. I needed to be in Santa Barbara by eleven for The Caltome Vineyard shoot and if I was going to stop by the studio first I couldn’t delay any longer. While I waited for the water to heat up, I went back to my closet to pick out something comfortable for the long day ahead.

The owner of the winery where I’d be shooting was a friend of a friend of Harriet’s. After seeing some of my work, the owner hired me to take some editorial pictures he could use on his website and brochure. I was thrilled at the prospect of my work being the face of this new winery and wanted to make sure my photos were everything they wanted and more.

Hopping in the shower and drowning my worries, I let the hot water relax my already tight shoulders. As I lathered my hair with shampoo, I made a mental list of things I needed to pick up from the studio for today’s shoot. If everything went well today, I might get another job with them or even get recommended to do commercial work for someone else. This shoot could really open up a lot of doors and I didn’t want anything to go wrong.

I probably took a little longer than I should have in the shower so I rushed to dry my hair then threw on a pair of jeans and a casual white button up. Not being able to put it off any longer, I left the safe haven of my bedroom to face Robert.

As I turned the corner into the main room, the smell of cinnamon and salty bacon assaulted my senses. The dining table was piled high with pancakes, giant slices of French toast, scrambled eggs, a pile of bacon, hash browns and a bowl of fresh fruit. Everything smelled and looked wonderful. My stomach grumbled again, excited at the prospect of a real breakfast for once.

“Good morning, Violet,” Robert said, looking up at me from the table where he’d been reading the newspaper.

“You made all this?” I asked in disbelief. I took my seat at the head of the table where a plate had been set for me, along with a fresh cup of coffee and carafe of orange juice.

“It really wasn’t any trouble, and I wanted to show you how nice it can be having me around.” His eyes washed over me and a quiet smile played on his lips. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made sure there was a little of everything.” He returned his gaze to the paper in front of him.

I ate my breakfast in silence, sampling all the savory treats on the table. I tried to remember the last time I’d had a real honest to goodness breakfast like this and realized it must have been when my parents were still alive. The memory of my mom bustling around the kitchen brought a smile to my face and a lump in my throat that made it hard to swallow a mouthful of scrambled eggs. I looked over at Robert several times as I washed the meal down with coffee, wondering if I should try to make conversation, but he never looked up and he seemed perfectly at ease to just sit and read the paper.

Everything was delicious. I took one last bite of French toast then took my plate to the kitchen. I was expecting there to be a complete mess but it looked like no one had even toasted a slice of bread let alone made an entire feast. I was about to ask where all the food had come from when I saw the clock on the microwave and realized I was already running late. I poured some coffee into a thermos and headed out the door with a quick “thank you” tossed in Robert’s direction.

I made it to my studio in no time, staying off the busy streets and parking my car with several minutes recovered from my late start. I unlocked the front door and headed straight for the back room. The message light blinked on Jessie's phone but I didn't have time to check it. If it was important, Jessie would give me a call when she got in. I quickly unlocked the back door leading to all my equipment and flipped on the lights.

Walking over to the storage cabinet I pulled out my large camera bag. I hadn’t looked at the bag since stuffing it in here after the wedding. The black canvas felt cool against my fingers, like it contained a piece of that night. I could almost smell the cold, sticky air wafting off of it as I pulled the zipper open. Taking a deep breath I shook off the chills the memory created and brought myself back to the present. Quickly I stuffed a few extra memory cards, two backup batteries, a light meter, two different flashes and my camera into the open pouch. I closed the cabinet and relocked it, throwing the bag over my shoulder and heading for the dark room.

I swung the door open and flipped on the red lights. I never kept regular lighting in there for fear that someone might flip the wrong switch and ruin any photos I might be working on. I kept a medium-sized stepladder and my light diffusers in here, both of which I needed for the day’s shoot. Juggling everything out into the main office, I picked my laptop off my desk, shut the lights off, locked the front door and placed everything on the sidewalk next to my car. Out of habit I went to unlock the trunk but stopped just before I put the key in the lock. It was like being hit with a bolt of electricity and the memory of my attack flashed before my eyes.

“Hey, watch where you're going!” a man crossing the street yelled and a horn blared. I looked toward the noise and for a brief moment I thought the man behind the wheel was Ian. Doing a double take as the car passed I tried to get a good look at the drivers face, but was unable to confirm my suspicion.  

I turned away from the trunk and unlocked the car with the keyless entry. The small tremor of panic subsided back into the dark recesses of my mind as I piled everything into the backseat and slid behind the wheel. Now that I was on my way, I could relax a little.

I turned onto the 101 south, selected the
Beatles
playlist on my phone and settled in for the hour and a half drive down to Caltome Vineyards.

Now that I was free of Robert, I could think about everything he’d said a little more objectively. I’d never been someone who believed in psychics or anything having to do with the spiritual world. Although, the one thing I had to believe was that Robert was something different, something Magical maybe. I’d spent the last few weeks trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for how he saved my life, but the more I thought about it the more I couldn’t deny that reason and logic had nothing to do with how Robert healed me.

So what did that leave me with? I still wasn’t sure, but what I did know for sure was that I trusted Robert with my life. And if I could trust him to never let anything happen to me, then maybe I could trust that he was telling the truth. The problem with that was even if I trusted him to
tell
me the truth, it didn’t mean I could
believe
the truth. And what was I supposed to do anyway? Step up and be The Waker ? Or walk the other way and write this whole thing off as a bad dream? I let out a heavy sigh and leaned my head against the headrest. So much for having a boring, normal life.

Thinking about my predicament made the drive to Caltome Vineyards go by fairly quickly. I pulled off the freeway in just under an hour and fifteen minutes and parked in a dirt lot in front of the building marked ‘Guest Relations.’ As I got out of my car, the sweet fragrance of grapes and fresh dirt hit me like a ton of bricks.

I walked into the antique-looking building and into an elaborately elegant reception area. A large front counter made of aged wood accentuated the romantic charm and feel as you walked in. The winery’s name was burned into the wall behind the large counter. The cursive letters flowed into each other like smooth and flawless grapevines. To my left and around a slight corner, enormous bookshelves along the walls displayed hundreds of bottles of wine. Opposite the bookshelves was another counter that matched the one just ahead of me. This counter had tall barstools neatly tucked underneath the wood with more wine glasses than I could count hanging from the ceiling. Several displays had been set up to showcase particular bottles and a few crates were still strewn about the room waiting to be emptied. I approached the counter and pulled on the string attached to a small brass bell.

A tall, red-headed woman appeared from behind a false wine case. “Can I help you with something?” Her voice was warm and the laugh lines around her smile were welcoming.

“Yeah, my name’s Violet. Scott hired me to photograph the winery,” I answered, taking in the woman behind the door. The flannel she wore was a faded blue and cream, a glaring contrast to her wild, fiery red hair.

“Oh yes, yes that’s right.” She shook her head. “He told me you were coming by today. Come on back.” She motioned with her arm for me to follow her and disappeared behind the case.

She was pretty, though not traditionally so. Her eyes were like bright blue crystals and the faintest evidence of shadows around them indicated how little sleep she must be getting. She kept her curly, thick red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and a few hairs had managed to escape and fall around her face.

I made my way around the counter and as I came to the door she held out her hand and said, “I'm Meredith, Meredith Deardon, Scott’s wife.”

Why did her name sound so familiar? Deardon, Deardon, where had I heard that before?

“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. She returned the handshake with a firm, callused grip. Apparently she didn’t just handle the winery’s paperwork.

The room behind the case was completely different and took me a moment to adjust to. It was a plain office with boxes stacked high against the walls. The florescent lights cast a comparatively rude glow after being in the soft, elegant light filling the room just outside. Everything was simple, plain, save for a glass door to my right with a beautiful view of the sweeping grape fields outside.

“Excuse the mess. We’re still trying to get everything together before our grand opening in two weeks and things are just everywhere right now,” Meredith apologized as she sat behind one of the two desks. “Scott had to run a few errands but I can tell you what we’re looking for. Our assistant, Matthew, can show you around and help you with anything you need.”

I sat in the folding chair across from her and she hit the speaker phone button and punched in a number. It rang twice and a young man’s voice came through the speaker. “What's up?” he asked.

“Matthew, I need you to come to the office and show someone around.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in five." The phone line went dead and she clicked the round button on the keypad to end the call.

“Matthew’s wonderful. Anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask, he knows this place better than anyone.”

“Sounds great.” I smiled and sat up straight in the hard plastic chair.

Discussing the finer details of the job, she showed me an old family photo that was taken in Italy that was meant to be the inspiration for my days work. A small house sat quietly among rolling hills as sunlight illuminated the fog that hung over the sprawling landscape. The mysterious romanticism of the photo was the feel they were going for. I had to admit, the desire to jump into the image and explore all its hidden secrets was almost overwhelming.

"I think I know what you're looking for." I stood and handed the picture back to her.

“Wonderful, I'll be here when you're done. I’m always here.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

I walked back through the false wine case and headed to my car. Placing all of my gear on the ground I fished my camera out of my bag. With deft hands, I switched out the lens for a wide angled one. Looking through the viewfinder I adjusted some of the settings.

A loud rumbling noise came toward me as I popped a fresh battery in place. When I looked up, I saw a handsome man driving an open-air, four wheel drive vehicle toward me. I assumed this must be Matthew. Slipping a memory card into the slot, I watched as the vehicle came to a skidding halt in front of me.

“Sorry, I know the Gator's a bit loud,” Matthew said as he turned the key and cut the engine. “But it’ll get you anywhere you need to go.” He smiled and walked around the vehicle to meet me. “I’m Matthew. Anything you need I’m here to help.”

We shook hands as I said, “Violet.” His callused hand nearly crushed mine with his grip, making it clear he wasn’t an indoors kind of guy.

He wore a black t-shirt, dark jeans and work boots, which all showed signs of needing a good wash. His hair was dirty blond and tied into a short ponytail at the back of his neck. A few strands of hair had escaped and fell around his bronzed face. He wasn’t overly muscular, but instead looked very lean. I had no doubt he was much stronger than he looked. Something about him made me smile.

“I’m almost done getting everything together and then we can head out,” I said, walking back to my car.

“No problem. I’m just gonna run inside real quick and check in with Meredith,” he said, grabbing a binder from the Gator and jogging inside.