This Wicked Game

THIRTEEN

It wasn’t easy to keep her mind clear while Cecile took them through the poses the next day. Claire wanted—needed—to find some clarity, some serenity.

But no matter what she did, which mantras she repeated or how many peaceful images she imagined, she kept coming back to the house on Dauphine. To the man meeting with Estelle in secret and the pictures of Xander and Sasha and the unshakable feeling that they were all in danger.

She was relieved when Cecile finally closed the class with the customary bow and in-unison “Namaste.” Rolling up her mat, Claire grabbed her bag as Sasha did the same. Then they stepped onto the street, grabbed their bikes, and headed for the Muddy Cup.

“You planning to tell me what’s going on?” Sasha finally asked when they were sitting at their table, the sun softened by the tint on the big picture window.

“What do you mean?” Claire laughed nervously. She planned to tell Sasha about the letters, but she was still trying to figure out how much to say and how to say it in a way that wouldn’t make her sound crazy.

“I mean we’ve been best friends ever since we dressed up my cat in ritual garb when we were ten and my mother freaked us out by telling us Boots would get her revenge because cats could lay spells.” Sasha’s expression softened as she glanced at Claire’s cup. “Plus, you’re drinking Herbal Unwind, and you only drink that when something’s wrong.”

“I’m just stressed out,” Claire protested. “The last thing I need is caffeine.”

“Right. But why?” Sasha asked. “I know you. Something’s up.”

Claire played with her spoon. She was about to start talking when the empty chair next to Sasha scraped against the floor.

When Claire looked up, it was right into Allegra St. Martin’s blue eyes.

“Hey,” she said.

“Allegra!” Claire hoped she sounded surprised and not rude.

Sasha was less diplomatic. “Wow, have a seat why don’t you?” she said sarcastically, taking a drink of her coffee.

Allegra rolled her eyes. “What? I’m supposed to ask for an invitation?”

Claire gave Sasha a brief glare before turning to Allegra with a smile. “We’re just surprised to see you, that’s all. What’s up?”

Allegra leaned in, her glossy black ponytail hanging over one shoulder. “Why don’t you tell me?”

The words hung in the air for what seemed like forever before Claire was able to formulate a response. Even then, it wasn’t exactly brilliant.

“Uh . . . What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Allegra tipped her head, looking from Claire to Sasha and back to Claire again. “That’s how you’re going to play it?”

Claire was relieved when Sasha stepped in. “Why don’t you tell us what you’re getting at, Allegra? Save us all time.”

Allegra leaned back. “You’re keeping secrets. I don’t know exactly what they are, but I’ve been seeing them.”

“Seeing them?” Claire repeated.

“I get these . . . visions . . . dreams,” Allegra explained. “I don’t know. Call them what you want. I don’t get them all the time, but when I do, they’re almost always right.”

Sasha’s face was guarded. “And you’ve been getting them lately?”

“Yeah, but I’m only getting pieces. Something about pictures and . . . letters, I think, and maybe a little girl or something. I can’t make sense of it.”

“A little girl?” Claire could explain the pictures and the letters, but the little girl didn’t fit.

Allegra waved her hand. “Whatever. You know how it is; I can’t always see the details right away.”

Claire didn’t know how it was, but she didn’t say anything.

“The point is,” Allegra continued, “something’s going on. I’ve been feeling a threat for a long time. A threat against the Guild. But I haven’t been able to see it clearly. Then the thing with the panther blood happens, and all of a sudden, I see all this other stuff.” She looked pointedly at Claire. “Then, I started seeing you.”

“Me?” Claire’s stomach turned over. This was the second time that someone from the Guild had told her they’d had a dream or vision involving her.

Allegra nodded. “I think it’s all tied together, but the parents have locked lips. No one’s talking, not even my mother, and you know how unusual that is.”

Claire considered her options. She could deny everything. Wait for Allegra to leave and fill Sasha in like she’d planned. But Allegra knew. Claire didn’t know Allegra well, but she was willing to bet that she wasn’t the kind of girl who would just give up and walk away. Not when she sensed a threat and a secret.

“What makes you think I know anything?” Claire finally asked.

Allegra shrugged. “Call it a hunch. Only my hunches are better than most.”

Xander wasn’t going to like it. He hadn’t even wanted Sasha to know.

Claire sighed. “Okay, but this is just between us. Between us and Xander. No parents and no Guild until we say so. You have to agree or I can’t tell you anything.”

“Done,” Allegra said without hesitation.

Claire looked at Sasha. “Sash?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Sasha sounded offended. “If you tell me not to say anything, I won’t say anything. You know that.”

Claire’s nod was slow as she tried to think of a place to begin. Finally, she reached into her bag and pulled out the letters she’d printed from her computer. She pushed them across the table.

Allegra reached for the stack of paper. “What is this?”

“They’re letters. Just . . . look at them,” Claire said. “I took them with my phone, but I transferred them to my computer and printed them out. I think they’re pretty clear now.”

Allegra unfolded the papers and shuffled through them.

“Who talks like this?” she asked, setting them down on the table. “It’s like reading Shakespeare.”

“Look at the dates,” Claire instructed.

Allegra sighed and picked up the letters again.

“Eighteen eighty?” She looked up.

“Turn them over and look at the signature lines,” Claire said softly.

Sasha grabbed the stack of paper out of Allegra’s hands. She shuffled through the pages, turning them over as she went.

Finally, she looked up to meet Claire’s eyes. “These are from Marie the First.”

Allegra sat up straighter. “What?”

Sasha looked at her. “Marie the First? Marie Laveau?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “I know who Marie the First is. It’s just . . . Let me see those again.”

Sasha handed her the pages.

“Is this really her handwriting?” There was awe in Allegra’s voice.

“I think so,” Claire said.

“Claire . . . Where did you get these?” Sasha asked

It took Claire a minute to find the words, but once she did, she couldn’t stop. She began with the fact that Eugenia Comaneci had known her name, something she’d only told the Guild leadership and Xander. Then she told Sasha and Allegra everything else, only leaving out the conversation she and Xander had overheard between Maximilian and Estelle.

Some secrets weren’t hers to tell.

By the time she finished recounting their mission to the house on Dauphine, her hands were shaking.

When she was done, the two girls just sat there, staring at her with something like shock.

“My picture was there, too?” Sasha asked, her voice just above a whisper.

Claire nodded. “But yours and Xander’s didn’t have Xs. We think the ones that are marked are connected to the families that have had break-ins.”

“So the pictures that had Xs—including mine—are the ones whose houses have already been broken into?” Allegra asked.

“Well, we don’t know for sure,” Claire said. “But it kind of makes sense.”

“And what, Xander and I will be next?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t know,” Claire admitted. “But these letters could be a clue.”

Sasha picked up the papers and flipped through them again. “Why not just take them to the Guild?”

“We’re going to—eventually. It’s . . .” She struggled for a way to explain without exposing Estelle. “It’s complicated.”

“I think it’s smart to keep this from them,”Allegra announced.

Sasha looked at her in surprise. “You do?”

Allegra made a sound of frustration. “Come on. Do you really think our parents have any idea how to handle a threat? A real threat?” She continued without waiting for their answer. “They’ve only been in charge for what? Twenty years? And in that time nothing remotely interesting has happened. Everyone’s played by the rules and they’ve just . . . sat back, running their little stores in peace.”

Sasha frowned. “Not all of the Guild supply houses are small.”

“You know what I mean. The Guild has become another high society clique. Our mothers are more concerned with headpieces for the ball and which charitable board they’re on than with overseeing the use of the craft. And our fathers are more concerned about keeping peace with our mothers. The Guild could be working to keep voodoo relevant. The timing’s right. People are into all kinds of stuff: homeopathy, eastern religion, meditation, even paganism has made a comeback. But if the Guild has their way, the world of voodoo will stay a secret, just the way they like it.”

Claire blinked in surprise. She’d never heard Allegra speak so passionately about anything.

But that didn’t mean she was right.

Claire thought about her mother, saw her kneeling in front of the altar, her face smooth and calm. Claire didn’t know about anyone else’s parents, but her mother still practiced the craft. Still believed. It was hard to imagine that she didn’t want others to believe, too.

“Actually,” Sasha said, sounding surprised, “I kind of agree with you.”

“Right?” Allegra leaned forward, her excitement at finding a sympathetic ear apparent on her face. “Did either of you ask your parents about the panther blood? About what the Guild planned to do about it?”

“I did,” Claire said.

“What did they say?” Allegra kept going. “Let me guess; we’ve got it all under control. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Not exactly,” Claire said.

“Did they give you answers?” Allegra asked. “Even after you attended the meeting?”

“No,” Claire admitted.

“Right. Because they don’t have any. They’re going to look the other way and pretend this—whatever it is—isn’t happening, because the truth is they don’t know what to do about it. They don’t want to know.” She leaned back in her chair, looking at Claire. “I think we should find out what the letters mean before we tell anyone else. Maybe then we’ll be able to figure out what’s going on.”

Claire wondered when “we” had become not only her and Xander and Sasha, but Allegra, too.

“I guess you have a point,” Sasha conceded. “But how? I’ve never heard of this woman named Sorina. And to call the letters vague is the understatement of the century.”

“True,” Claire admitted. “But they’re all we have.” She looked at her phone, checking the time. Xander was waiting for her call. Waiting to hear how it had gone with Sasha. “I have to call—” She stopped herself, remembering that she and Sasha weren’t alone.

Allegra raised her eyebrows. “Xander?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I’ve known about you two forever.”