Page 13 of Seer

Usually, Cassandra gets angry when I refuse to play with her, but today, she vanishes with a pout. I guess even ghosts get moody. I’ve almost gone through a bottle of scotch, but even its harsh burn can’t seem to snuff out the sense of unease I feel. Something about Victoria Cromwell’s presence at the clubhouse bothers me.

What if she hurts Seer?

That would be on me… just like his accident. If I hadn’t made a fuss at the last meeting, Prez wouldn’t have had to make that harsh verdict, and Seer wouldn’t have ridden off in anger. He sincerely apologized to me, but I hadn’t let it go. I down another shot of scotch, slamming the glass on the table with a frustrated grunt.

“Too late to cry over spilled milk, don’t you think?”

I look up to see Abby smiling down at me, her eyes twinkling with gentle humor and soothing compassion. Even heavy with pregnancy, she’s as beautiful as the first day I saw her. My heart sinks with a heavy feeling, and I quickly avert my gaze from hers. I don’t even allow myself to think about my silly crush on the president’s wife. Abby is my friend, and that’s all it can ever be.

“Hey,” I mutter, flashing Abby a half-hearted smile. “You shouldn’t be on your feet for too long, you know.”

Abby’s smile widens. “I need the exercise now and then, especially since Pocus has taken it upon himself to ban me from doing anything around here.”

“As he should,” I reply, and Abby shakes her head at me. I stand up to pull a chair for her. “Please have your seat, my lady.”

Abby rolls her eyes and lowers herself slowly onto the chair with a soft grunt. “Thanks, Hex.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” I reply with a mock bow before lowering myself to my seat again.

Abby tilts her head a little to the side, glancing from the empty bottle to my eyes. “Are you beating yourself up about Seer’s condition again?”

“Pocus’ gift must be rubbing off on you. You read minds now, too?”

Abby snorts amusedly. “You know… it’s funny how similar you all are. You seem to think you can finally have your way if you pout long enough.”

“I wasn’t….”

“Isn’t it best to move forward?” Abby asks in a much gentler tone. “With every minute you sit here wallowing in self-pity, Seer is battling for his life. If you truly feel sorry for him, shouldn’t you be trying your best to help him get better?”

“I just feel like all of this is my fault,” I say with a helpless shrug. “It’s my fucking fault he’s in a coma.”

Abby reaches out to give my hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not your fault, Hex. You heard what Tory said. Someone is blocking Seer’s magic. That bastard is the real problem.”

“Do you believe everything that woman said?”

“What’s there not to believe?” Abby asks me. “She’s here to help.”

I resist the urge to pour myself another glass of scotch. “I think that’s still yet to be decided.”

Abby doesn’t respond. Instead, she searches my face with a strange expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just…,” she shrugs hesitantly. “It’s unusual of you to be so suspicious of someone.”

“Exactly.”

CHAPTERSIX

Brewing healing herbs is a complex chore that requires the utmost concentration, but I find the work relaxing. I enjoy every part, from selecting the herbs to chanting the incantations. The slightest mistake could be costly, but that makes the entire process engaging.

I step away from the stove with a satisfied exhale. I have to wait for the herbs to come to a perfect boil. Now that I don’t have to concentrate on any task, I can’t stop my mind from returning to the man I’m here to help. I can’t help but think that Mama assigned me to this task, already aware of how difficult it is.Almost impossible.

Knowing Mama as well as I do, her decisions are always thought through and not without a goal. Seer’s condition is worse than I initially thought. His energy has completely faded, and if I don’t act fast, his soul will soon rot from within. There’s no stopping it when it starts… he is almost a hopeless case. Herbs may not be enough but it’s the only place I have to start from. Restoring his energy will buy me time to come up with a solid solution…I hope.

“What are you doing?”

I look up to see a brown-eyed man walk into the kitchen. He’s the one who accused me of being a swindler earlier. I rack my head for his name. Hank? Hex! Yes, that’s it. Pocus had referred to him as Hex. I watch him walk up to the refrigerator to take out a water bottle.

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