A jolt brings me out of my meanderings, and when I look around to see what triggered my senses, I find a woman standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of Wild Astor Plants. Given her age, it’s not a surprise that she’s marveling at the signage—the cheeky design Haggerty talked the owner into was a nod to pop culture that the decidedly older residents have yet to figure out.
It occurs to me that this must be the girl everyone seems to whisper about—a former resident who moved home. She’s got hair the color of raven wings and is flanked by two large exotic cats. I thought I’d heard she was unemerged, and it surprises me she seems to have companions with her, but there’s no time like the present to do a brief investigation.
“Yeah, I told Doyle that updating all these store names to trendy stuff will not make us go viral or anything, but he never listens,” I say as I walk closer. The woman turns to me, gawking at me this time rather than at the WAP sign. For a moment, I worry that I have some of my lunch on my face, but I know for a fact I made certain I didn’t leave a trail of Hazel’s meatloaf lingering.
“Um, well. I… mean…”
My lips curve up and I laugh as she fumbles for words, finding her befuddlement adorable. It has to be my eyes; I realize now. They’re startling and they would doubly confuse someone who does not know of supes. “It’s a genetic thing. The eyes, I mean. I know it’s shocking at first…”
She turns a lovely shade of crimson, muttering under her breath as she looks away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just…”
“No worries. I’m used to it.” I give her a calm smile, hoping to make her less self-conscious.
“Do the owners have any idea what he’s gotten them into?” Her attention is back on the sign and I shake my head.
“No. They don’t have a clue. This town is very sheltered from the outside world, and well, Doyle has a mischievous streak a mile wide. They don't get the jokes and it amuses him. I’m not lying, but she gives me a frown that says she’s trying to decide if Doyle’s prank is mean or funny.. I watch her think about the possibilities for a moment before I give in and help her out. “It’s funny, trust me. At least, it is until they figure it out, and then it’ll be a headache for Nelia.”
“How did you—never mind.” The raven haired beauty shakes her head and sighs. “Well, good luck to him when it lands on her desk. She’s not one to take excuses. At least, she never was when I was growing up.”
Tilting my head, I nod. “You’re the girl who just moved back, right? The one teaching art and opening a gallery?”
“That’s me,” she replies and gestures towards the space where her gallery will be. “I’m Jolene Whitley. And you are…?”
“Hugo. I teach history.” Before I can expound, a vision hits me with the force of a freight train and I have to fight to keep from staggering backward.
The spell they put on the unemerged may keep them from noticing things caused by the supernatural, but if I allow my powers to fully transform me on Main Street, there will still be a colossal mess to clean up. Most of the residents aren’t aware of my species and would never expect it given my gender. They simply assume I’m a solitary warlock, and I let them. Only the highest ranking officials and townspeople have a clue as to my true nature.
Shaking my head, I look at her with an apologetic smile. “Jolene, I apologize for my rudeness, but I must hurry. Please come see me once you get settled and I’ll fill you in on the staff.”
Jolene opens her mouth to reply. But I’m already hustling down the street, hoping to turn into a deserted back alley to finish out what seems to be an extremely strong vision.
I can’t let her see things she’s not ready for, and I know this one is going to knock me on my ass for a while.
* * *
My eyes crackopen and I squint, looking around for clues about how long I’ve been out. It’s not dark yet, so it couldn’t have been that long. When my eyesight comes back into focus, I realize I made it to the outdoor sitting area in front of WHFS before the vision completely took over. The campus is quiet since school hasn’t started yet, so there are far fewer people here to notice that I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings.
It’s not unusual to find me out here ‘meditating.’ No one would even bat a lash.
That’s good because the scenes I saw during this premonition weren’t very clear. I’ll need help to interpret what the symbols and fuzzy visuals told me. Something this vague isn’t how I usually channel my powers, and I’m not sure why it’s so different. The priestesses will need to be informed, and through them, our patron. Perhaps she will have a better idea of what the Fates might try to tell me.
Emerald eyes were the one thing I could solidly identify, and I know exactly who they belong to—Jolene Whitley.
Rolling to my feet, I walk over to find my car in the lot. Before I met Jolene on the street, I was on my way to grab lunch at the diner. I was working in the library, helping get it ready for the first day of school. Now that I've recovered from that hellacious vision, I can head home and use my altar space to contact the priestesses. I have a feeling whatever it was supposed to tell me is extremely important and I don’t want to waste another minute.
I’m so lost in thought that I barely notice the first time my phone rings. I’m a fairly solitary supe because of my species—it’s hard to make friends when you could have a vision of their death. My oaths prevent me from revealing things I see unless I receive permission from the Lady or her main acolytes, so I always feel like I’m separate from the rest of the world. Our gifts are why most of my kind stay in the Temple, never venturing out into a world where we have knowledge others cannot know. But my Lady and the Society sent me here five years ago with a vague tale about portents of things to come, so here I am.
The name on the call screen in my Prius isn’t surprising, but I’m not sure about the timing. The chime keeps going, though, until it snaps me out of my musings.
Could this be a part of the murky scenes I just saw? If so, I must answer.
“Good afternoon, Mayor Nelia. How can I help you today?” I’m met with a husky chuckle and I can almost see her shaking her regal head at me before she speaks.
“Hugo, I’ve told you a thousand times to call me Nelia—no titles.” She pauses for a moment, leaving me waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I have a very important request for you. This is a personal favor to me, and as such, I expect the utmost confidentiality.”
That’s odd.
While I have an important function for the Society, Nelia rarely calls on me for anything not ordered by them. I clear my throat, watching the lights turn as I head towards my house on the edge of town. “Yes, Nelia, I remember. I’d be honored to assist you in any way possible—discretion is one of my specialities.”