Dani Harper - Storm Bound

“Every astronomer on the planet would be squished by now. You’re messing with me.”

“Yes, I am.” She grinned over her shoulder as she sauntered to the front window of the shop. It was time to flip the OPEN sign to CLOSED. One after another, Brooke pulled the blinds down. As always, she imagined the old building was closing its eyelids, ready to nod off after another long day.

Behind the counter, she stubbed her toe on a box with a selection of tarot decks waiting to be priced and displayed, which reminded her of another task undone. Brooke pulled out her phone and punched in the speed dial for her daily tarot reading. It was usually the first thing she did in the morning, but she’d been distracted—on purpose, by her eternally hungry cats, Bouncer, Rory, and Jade. The trio would be expecting a lot of attention as well as dinner when she went upstairs to her apartment. Usually they lounged around the shop while she worked, but Rory had been in a climbing mood. After he’d toppled two separate displays, Brooke had banished the felines for the rest of the day. If she played with them first, was there any chance they would let her work on her taxes in peace?

A moment later, she forgot all about her cats, the shop, and everything else, as she looked down at her phone display where her four-card reading waited for her. Not again. It couldn’t possibly have done it again . She attempted to punch the button that would wipe out the screen, but it was suddenly snatched from her hand. “Geez, G, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“What have we got here?” George teased, and read the cards aloud. “The Moon, the Fool, the Ten of Stars, in the top row…and Death lurking down here underneath them? That can’t be good.”

“It means change , not literal death,” she said quickly. “And those are pentacles, not stars, as you know perfectly well.”

“Change, huh? Must be one helluva big change to bring out the Grim Reaper.”

“It’s symbolism.”

“Duh, I get that. Death’s the biggest change there is. So the way it’s hanging around at the bottom, it looks like you’re expecting a big change in whatever the other cards stand for.”

Brooke opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. George had summed it up perfectly. Nothing like a fresh perspective from someone who doesn’t read the cards. Of course, George had always loved to look through her tarot deck collection for the sake of the artwork—most were extremely beautiful, which was why she had no willpower when a new deck caught her eye. But while she would lovingly make use of the cards, George had zero interest in anything but the pictures. Still, he’d seen what she had not. “That’s a pretty astute observation.”

“Astute, my ass. It’s symbolism, just like you said. So the meaning is kind of universal, isn’t it?”

And here she’d spent hours trying to discern a complex meaning from was actually a fairly simple pattern. Nothing like making things harder than they had to be. “I guess I was too busy being spooked from the way it kept showing up over and over again, and—”

“Oh, really ?” He folded his arms. “Exactly how long has this been going on?”

Damn. She was so used to telling him everything that she’d just blurted it out. Just as well , she supposed. It would do her good to tell somebody, and George was her BFF after all. Who else would she have told but him? “This”—she pointed at the screen—“makes nine times in a row that these particular cards have come up.”

“Glitch in the program.”

“The top cards show up in any order. The Death card is always at the bottom.”

“Still a glitch in the program. Try another site.”

She gripped the cell phone tightly in both hands and made herself look George in the eye. He had one yellow one and one purple one today. At least he’s not wearing his reptilian contacts. “I’ve gotten the same reading on every site I’ve tried,” she whispered. She anticipated his next question: “With every physical deck of cards I’ve used too. This was my ninth attempt over the past few days.”

He whistled at that. “Nine is a powerful number. Three times three.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Okay, two, maybe even three, times could be random, could be coincidence, although the odds are better that you’d win the Powerball jackpot. But nine —that’s really messed up, Brooke. What kind of message is the Universe trying to send you?”

“I don’t know.” What she didn’t say aloud was how scary it was, even for a witch. Maybe especially for a witch. Witches saw meaning in everything, but Brooke couldn’t fathom what this strange recurring message was supposed to mean. All that she knew for sure was that there were no coincidences.

“Have you told my mom yet?”

“No. I know I should but…” Part of her was a little afraid of what her friend and mentor, Olivia Santiago-Callahan, might say about it. Olivia was a master when it came to tarot. What if the recurring reading was bad news? Really bad news? Silly to avoid it, of course, even childish. Besides, it could just as well be good news—although, in her experience, the Universe didn’t usually beat people over the head with the positive stuff.

“I want to solve this puzzle myself,” she finished at last. Even though she knew full well that flying solo wasn’t always the smartest thing to do, she was determined to be independent a little longer. Or in denial. Sometimes it looked like the same thing.

George took the phone from her and peered into the touch screen, using his fingers to enlarge each card in turn. “Huh. There’s a dog in each of the cards. Does that signify something?”

She frowned and took the phone back from him. The Moon, the Fool, and the Ten of Pentacles all featured a dog somewhere in the picture. In fact, they were the only cards in a tarot deck that did. This time, however, Death had a canine companion as well. She’d seen the somber figure portrayed on a horse, sometimes with ravens or vultures, even cats, but not this. “Dogs and death,” she mused aloud. “That’s really strange. In the tarot, dogs are always guardians and protectors.”

“The big black one beside the Reaper doesn’t look very protective. He looks like he could swallow you whole. Great graphic for my hellhounds post.”

“It doesn’t matter what the dog looks like; the meaning is the same,” she insisted. “Dogs can also signify communication—they’re often viewed as a bridge between worlds, maybe like your uncle’s little clay dogs. Most of the time, though, the appearance of a dog means you’re being protected.”

“In other words, you’re being watched over by the goddamn Hound of the Baskervilles.”

She forced a wan smile. “Just what every girl needs.”

George put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Look, it’s gotta be simpler than that. Maybe a dog will prevent something bad from happening. Maybe the cards are saying you should adopt a dog for security or something—he could help you watch the shop. You remember Alison, the colorist that works on my comics? She volunteers at the local animal shelter, and they’re having a big open house on Saturday. We could go look around, see if you get any vibes.”

She shook her head. “You forget that I am already owned by three cats. Bouncer would leave home, Jade would stop talking to me, and Rory would plot my demise if I brought a dog into their house.” Brooke turned off the phone and tucked it back into her pocket. “I need to get out my books, do a little research on this. But first I have some spells to do up for people, things to get ready for mailing. Oh, and work on my damn taxes.” Yuck.