the shower as water slicked away sweat, she decided to call Golden Raven. The lady leaned more to Native American beliefs than Marian did, but she was more open-minded than many and would listen without judging. She might know of instances similar to Marian’s experiences. That would be a good step in controlling the weirdness that had invaded her life.
“Yes,” she muttered as she dressed for her work-study job. “I need Golden Raven.” She went to the telephone. Should she call Golden Raven or Candace? Glancing at the clock, she thought it might be too early for Golden Raven. If Marian didn’t phone Candace back, her mother’s mood would turn nasty and her demands would escalate. Inhaling deeply, Marian called the residence of Candace’s sixth husband, a mansion in an old, upscale area of Denver.
Candace’s tone was sharp. “Well, Marian, it’s good you called.” Papers rustled in the background. Since Candace didn’t launch into speech, Marian figured her mother was multitasking.
Excellent. Maybe they could get through a conversation without damaging each other. “What do you want, Mother?” asked Marian.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, Marian. You must come down here to Denver for a fund-raiser tomorrow night, Friday, 7:30 p.m. Cocktails and dinner.”
“Why, Mother?” Marian was deeply entrenched in academia now; she’d never be a person who could enhance her mother’s status in any way. Thank God.
Candace heaved an exasperated sigh. “Trenton Philbert III remarried a month ago. A woman who runs one of the largest occult shops in Denver. Why he married such a creature, no one knows. I just learned he and his new wife will be at the benefit. Trenton dotes on the woman and his contribution is necessary for us to meet our goal.”
Ah, various cities competed to raise the most money and Candace intended to prove she was the best. Candace continued, “So I need to keep his wife happy to keep him happy.”
Instead of zooming in on the woman like a barracuda.
“I can’t imagine that anyone would have any idea what to say to her.” Creature was still in Candace’s voice. “Then, I thought of you, of course. With all your…experience in that area.”
Sounded like Marian attended seances and channeling every night.
Hooking up again with the Denver New Age community might not be a bad thing. In one way, Marian could even convince herself that her company would be beneficial for the unknown woman. And there were some good, kind people in Denver society that Marian would like to see again. Too bad her mother didn’t happen to be one. Despite her methods, though, Candace was great at raising money.
“I don’t think so, Mother.”
“I can make it worth your while,” Candace continued.
Marian waited for the bribe. Bribes sometimes worked. Marian had to know more about the situation to figure out whether the favor was worth whatever Candace was offering.
“I know you’re studying too hard. Having the rest of your college fund would make life easier.”
In Candace’s mind, Marian was always studying too hard. Candace didn’t understand that learning was a pleasure. Though she understood that knowledge was power, at least when it came to playing the Denver social game, using secrets.
“Marian, did you hear me? I told you that I could release the last of your college fund.”
Good bribe, and if bribes didn’t work, Candace used the threat: Withholding her college fund now, Andrew’s welfare when he’d been younger. He was twenty-four, four years younger than Marian. She’d tried to take care of him, since Candace was uninterested in her son.
“I’ll think about it,” Marian said.
“I need a commitment,” Candace snapped. “I’ll call Andrew. It may take some doing on his part, but he’ll come.”
“No, Mother, I don’t want you bothering Andrew.”
Candace ignored her. “Of course he’ll come. The Colorado Charities Fund disburses money to the Multiple Sclerosis Foundation of Colorado. I always have an advantage when campaigning for the Chairmanship of the Fund drive—with poor Andrew being afflicted with MS, and at such an early age, too.”
Fury veiled Marian’s vision in a red haze. Good thing that the phone was industrial strength; otherwise it would have crumbled under her grip. How Candace could think of her own son that way…
“Andrew is a person with a challenging disease. Don’t define him as a victim.”
Candace sniffed. “Believe what you want. Now, about the fund-raiser, tell me whether the weather will be clear.”
Heat crept up Marian’s neck. She’d always had weather-sense. She shifted and felt the connection to Mother Earth, one reason she loved the garden-level apartment. “Clear and cool,” she said.
“Good. Your drive down from Boulder should be fine, then.”
Rubbing her forehead, Marian said, “I’ll be there.”
“I thought so, and bring that delightful Professor Wilse with you.”
Marian shuddered at the thought of Jack Wilse. Mistake. She admired his body but deplored his values. He’d manipulated and used her, too, before her mind got her hormones under control. It was inconceivable to her now that she’d had a brief affair with him. “He won’t be coming with me.”
“Marian, you can’t attend alone! How will it look? Speaking of looks, you have used that exercise club membership I bought for you so you’d lose those extra pounds, haven’t you?”
“My weight is my own business.” Candace would continue to comment on it anyway. “I will be coming alone—or not at all. If you want me there, deposit the rest of my college fund into my account and e-mail me the details.” Marian hung up.
Mistake. She’d allowed her mother to manipulate her. Would she ever learn? But this time, she’d gotten the last of her college fund. With chilled fingers she reached for her appointment book, flipped to the end where she’d listed her five-year plan. She inserted Friday’s date as the day she’d receive the money that would set her free from her mother, and launch her fully on her career path. Ahead of schedule, but right on track. She wouldn’t allow anything or anyone—especially her mother—to control her again. Her own mistakes might be bad, but they were hers. Hers to learn from.
She felt as if she’d been stung, and poison was spreading through her system. Like so many times before in her life. That’s what happened when you were raised by an unevolved Scorpio.
Grumbling, Marian stalked through her living room. A book from the bookshelf-lined walls thumped to the floor. She stopped and stared. There was a gaping hole on the second shelf where she kept her Wiccan books neatly alphabetized by author.
She swallowed. Even before she picked up the book, she knew what it would be: Craft Your Own Ritual, by a well-respected Wiccan. It was the third time this week that volume had fallen from the shelf.
As usual, the crisp pages fell open to a full-moon ritual. Rising anxiety made her pulse race. She closed her eyes and colors swirled behind her eyelids, followed by a flash of the image of Andrew from her nightmare.
Her eyelids flicked open. Her chest tightened. All the recent coincidental signs pointed to her conducting a full-moon ritual. Marian glanced at the yearly moon phase chart she’d framed. Full moon tomorrow night, Friday—the same night she’d agreed to attend Candace’s benefit.
A knock came at her door and a tingle ran up her spine. She pushed aside the curtain draped over the apartment door’s small window, looked out. Golden Raven stood on the threshold. She smiled until the lines deepened around her blue eyes and framed her mouth. Beyond her was an old van packed full of boxes, ready for a long trip.
With a sigh, Marian opened the door.
“I heard you call me,” Golden Raven said.
Jaquar’s