Page 22 of A Charming Touch of Tarot (The Gin & Tarot Club #2)

22

The Hierophant…Reversed-Ish

As we step onto the bustling streets of New Orleans, the air thick with the scent of spices and the sound of music, excitement surges through me. Lanie, Nina, and I have been looking forward to this trip for days, and we’re finally here.

Our primary objective might be to track down Ian, but you don’t come to New Orleans and pass up the opportunity to bask in all the city has to offer.

The colorful facades of buildings embellished with whimsical artwork only add to the city’s enchantment. I find myself craning my neck to take in every detail, unwilling to miss a single square inch of the place. The entire time, I’m thinking about eating, because the food in New Orleans might be my favorite part. I’m going to savor each bite of flavorful gumbo and decadent beignet placed in front of me.

“Are you hungry?” Nina asks, shoulders shaking with jollity.

I lift a brow, caught off guard by the accurate assessment. Did my stomach growl?

“What makes you ask that?”

She smirks, looking down at our intertwined arms.

My eyes widen as the realization sinks in. “You read my mind?”

As soon as I say the words, Nina’s expression morphs into shock. She hadn’t even realized what she’d done.

It wasn’t a bad vision she saw, but my internal thoughts.

“How…” She trails off, her voice barely a whisper, echoing the bewilderment in her eyes.

“I really think we need to prioritize meeting with Corinne’s aunt Bee. She knows we’re in town,” I suggest, recalling how before we left, Corinne had suggested we look up her aunt, who typically sets up shop in Jackson Square, reading tarot for whoever asks.

“You might be right,” she says.

A commotion next to us has Nina and I halting our conversation to see what’s going down. Of course, we find Lanie in the center of the controversy.

“Get your damn hands off me before I break your arm in two,” she snaps. “I already told you no.”

Nina and I rush toward Lanie, hoping to pull her from the intoxicated man’s grasp. He’s clearly had one too many drinks—his speech is slurred and his movements are unsteady—while his friends stand by, finding amusement in his inappropriate behavior.

Nina grabs the guy’s arm, narrowing her eyes. “Does your friend over there know you’re sleeping with his fiancée?” she confronts him, her tone laced with accusation.

The man recoils, taken aback by Nina’s blunt revelation. He mutters a half-hearted apology before slinking away into the crowd before Nina can out him to his friend.

“Jerk,” Nina barks to his back. “I think we should head toward Jackson Square and see if we can find this Aunt Bee.”

I nod.

Jackson Square isn’t as crowded as Bourbon Street was. There are tables and tents set up around the perimeter of a park. We walk the line in search of Corinne’s aunt, who’s sure to be every bit as eccentric as her mother.

Bee’s presence is unmistakable, her table adorned with mystical trinkets and a deck of tarot cards laid out in front of her. As we approach, we catch the tail end of a reading, the girl in tears of joy as she embraces Bee.

“Thank you so much,” the small, dark-haired girl whispers to Bee.

With a warm smile, Bee waves the girl off. “Go…revel in your newfound happiness.”

The girl bobs her head and smiles before darting off toward her friends waiting off to the side.

As soon as the girl is out of earshot, Bee turns her attention to us. “Poor girl. She’s about to get engaged all right, but she’ll leave him for his brother.”

My head snaps toward the girl practically skipping away, happily reciting all that Bee shared about her future.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” I blurt out, unable to mask my incredulity.

It seems cruel to withhold such critical information, especially when it could drastically alter someone’s life trajectory.

“She didn’t ask,” she states matter-of-factly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her casual dismissal plants seeds of doubt about her true intentions. It’s as if she views people merely as pawns in some cosmic game, oblivious to the gravity of her readings and the profound impact they could have on lives. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, tarnishing the hope I had for this meeting. It’s entirely the opposite of what I wish to do with my abilities.

Her sharp gaze lands on me, scrutinizing me in a way that only raises my hackles more.

“Corinne Moradi sent us,” Nina says, likely hoping to establish a connection.

As for me, I simply want to turn around and find someone else.

The mention of her niece’s name sparks recognition in Bee, and she regards me with renewed interest.

“You…you’re the one with powers,” she murmurs, her voice tinged with awe.

“That’s what we came to talk about,” I reply, feeling torn about how I wish to proceed with the woman.

“Can you tell us how our abilities work?” Nina asks, taking the decision out of my hands.

“Your abilities? You have them too?” she says, sounding skeptical.

Nina nods her head.

“I’m heading to grab beignets. When you’re done, meet me at Café du Monde.” Lanie doesn’t wait for us to respond before she’s heading off.

Bee’s expression softens, and she gestures for us to follow her.

“You don’t need to be here?” I say, pointing toward her table.

She waves me off. “Nah. It’ll be fine.”

She walks us across the street and down a short alley, unlocking a door that opens to a steep set of stairs.

“Welcome to my home,” she announces, raising a host of questions.

I find myself silently wondering how she can afford such prime real estate in the heart of New Orleans.

Bee turns to me with a knowing smile. “My family had money,” she explains casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “It was passed down through generations, allowing us to maintain this place.”

I feel a flush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks at being caught in my silent inquiry. It’s a reminder that around people like Bee, my thoughts are not my own. I tuck that away, a reminder to be careful not to allow my mind to wander to places I shouldn’t among such company.

Bee’s residence is a chaotic labyrinth of curiosities, each item telling a story of its own. Piles of ancient tomes teeter precariously on overflowing bookshelves, their weathered pages whispering secrets from centuries past. Dusty artifacts and mystical trinkets adorn every available surface, their origins shrouded in mystery. The air is heavy with the scent of dried herbs and incense, mingling with the musty smell of old parchment.

“Take a seat,” she says, motioning toward a wingback chair sitting across from a cluttered desk.

I motion for Nina to sit.

“I’ll be fine standing,” I say, wanting to feel like I have the upper hand, standing taller than the small-statured woman who’s now hunched over the desk.

Bee purses her lips at me but doesn’t insist that I sit.

“Why have you come to me?”

I recount my experiences communicating with ghosts and the recent emergence of prophetic dreams. Bee stares off into space for several quiet minutes, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

“It appears you are a medium with enhanced psychic abilities.” She taps the desk with her fingers. “Mediums can communicate with spirits who choose to communicate with them. You’ll receive only the information they choose to share.”

I huff. “That’s not helpful. Why not share everything so I can get them sent on their way?”

She bites her tongue. “Spirits are stuck between worlds. Their memories oscillate between what they remember from earth and what they know from before. They’re confused. That’s why they’re coming to you. They’re hoping you’ll straighten things out.”

Nina and I share a look.

“What about the dreams?” I ask, trying to keep us moving along.

“The precognitive dreams are part of your abilities. They’re typically a more advanced skill that comes once a person has mastered the art of communicating with the spirit world. Think of them as a link between you and the divine.”

“I’m not following.”

She purses her lips. “The universe is sending you messages of things to come so that you can stop them or intervene. Pay close attention to the details and write them down immediately.” She leans forward, eyes boring into me. “You have the ability to call upon dreams.”

I squint, nose scrunched, but I don’t get a chance to ask for clarification as Bee marches on.

“Before you lay your head on your pillow, ask the universe to send you a sign. Be very specific about what you want. If there’s a message meant for you, it’ll come.”

“And you?” she says, turning toward Nina. “What are your gifts?”

Nina shares her journey of touching people and uncovering their secrets, which has evolved into the ability to read minds. Bee listens raptly.

“This is interesting indeed,” she clucks. “Clairvoyance and psychometry. Very cool.”

Nina’s nose wrinkles. “What does that mean? How do I shut it off?”

Bee huffs. “You don’t shut it off, ding-dong. You embrace it. Use it to help your—others,” she amends, deciding not to out herself as selfish.

She’s clearly looking out for number one, utilizing the things she learns to better her circumstances. I don’t need to be psychic to see that.

“Your gift requires focus. If you want to know something about someone or any object, you simply have to touch it to gain answers.”

“I’ve tried that, and it didn’t work. I only see things at random.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s because it’s too new. You haven’t conquered it yet. That will require months of meditation and practice.”

Bee stares at Nina intently, as though she’s working something out, likely trying to read Nina’s mind. “No wonder you’re flustered by this power. It appears as though your mind fixates on the obscene.”

Nina’s face flushes bright red, and she stammers, “That’s not— I see into the minds of the people I touch! I’ve seen all kinds of thoughts—it’s not always—”

Bee bursts into laughter, clearly amused by Nina’s discomfort. I can’t help but smirk at the scene. This is the first time I’m meeting Bee, but there’s something oddly familiar about her demeanor—something reminiscent of Corinne.

Bee’s expression softens slightly, but she remains with a teasing edge. “Relax, Nina. It’s all part of the process. Everyone’s mind has its quirks. If you’re seeing things that make you blush, it’s probably because people’s thoughts are just as chaotic as you’re finding them.”

Nina takes a deep breath, still visibly embarrassed. “Fine, but I’m going to need a lot of practice if I’m going to handle what I see without feeling like I need to take a bath in holy water.”

I snort, barely able to contain my laughter. Nina’s frustration is clear, and her look practically screams, I’m serious. This stuff is filthy.

Bee meets her glare with a perfectly straight face. “Well, I suppose a cleansing ritual might be more effective than trying to scrub it all away with the church’s less-than-blessed holy tap water. Though, at this point, you might need a full exorcism to clear out the mental clutter. Or, you know, maybe just keep your hands to yourself and refrain from peopling until you’ve got this under control.”

“Oh, great. Maybe I should just wrap myself in aluminum foil and make a grand entrance as the world’s most neurotic human,” Nina snaps.

I sense the brewing storm and realize it’s time to step in before this turns into a full-blown catfight. “Okay…Time to go.”

Bee stands from the desk, walking to a bookshelf against the wall. She scans the shelves until she finds what she’s looking for. She pulls not one but three books from the shelf and places them on the desk in front of us.

“Here. Take these and read up.” She slides the books across the desk. “When you’re done, please return them. My address is on the inside of each book, along with my phone number. Call if you have questions.”

“Thank you,” we say in unison, Nina sounding a bit more relaxed than moments ago.

From this meeting, I’ve learned how important intention and seeking guidance from the universe will be if I want to utilize my gifts in full. There’s so much potential, but it’s not going to come to me overnight. I’ll need to work to nurture my abilities.

As the sun sits low over Jackson Square, we leave Bee’s place feeling enlightened and empowered, armed with newfound knowledge to navigate the complexities of our abilities.

We meet Lanie and shove copious amounts of fried dough into our mouths, completely content to call that our dinner for the night. We’re tired and need to check into our rooms.

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon as we arrive at the old, historic bed-and-breakfast nestled in the heart of New Orleans’s Garden District. The house looms before us, its ornate facade adorned with intricate carvings and latticework. Ivy creeps up the sides of the building, adding to its charm.

“This is…an interesting choice,” Nina says, sliding up next to me.

“I love it,” Lanie says, clapping her hands in excitement. “It’s got all the vibes.”

I chuckle, shoulders shaking at Lanie’s enthusiasm.

The wrought-iron gate creaks open as we step onto the cobblestone pathway, leading us to the grand Victorian mansion that will be our home for the duration of our stay.

Entering the foyer, we are greeted by the smell of aged wood and potpourri. The interior is a testament to the house’s storied past, with antique furniture and vintage decor in every corner. It feels as though we have stepped back in time.

“May I help you?” A stout woman wearing an apron and hairnet looks up at us from behind a desk.

“We’re checking in,” I say. “Two rooms under the name Mann.”

“Do you happen to have a third room? Even for one night?” Lanie asks.

“You can stay with me,” Nina says, but Lanie shakes her head.

The woman flips through a bulky book, indicating that the Ramada House hasn’t modernized its check-in procedure, opting to maintain a traditional approach.

“They’re on the third floor,” announces a woman emerging from the back, clad in a black jumpsuit with bleached hair neatly pulled back. She doesn’t appear to be too much older than we are. “Thank you, Rosie. I’ll take it from here.”

The older woman bows slightly, rushing off, mumbling something under her breath.

“My name is Adeana Ramada. This is my parents’ place,” she explains. “What brings you to town?” she asks, as she searches through a drawer behind the counter.

Nina, Lanie, and I share a look, each likely trying to determine what to tell her.

“Just a visit,” I say.

The woman looks up at me, expression pinched as though she knows I’m not being honest.

“We do have an extra room, but only for the night,” she says to Lanie.

“That’s fine. I’ll take it.” She turns to Nina. “Is it okay if I bunk up with you come tomorrow?”

Nina nods her head. “Of course.”

“Perfect,” Adeana says. “Follow me,” she requests, walking out from behind the desk toward a large set of winding stairs.

As she shows us to our rooms, she points out various things about the place. Where the bathrooms are located. Where to find extra towels and linens if we should need them. Basic things typical of a bed-and-breakfast.

Each room is uniquely decorated with plush furnishings and luxurious wallpaper, adding to the character of the place.

“Your room will be right this way,” she says, leading me to the end of the hall.

My room overlooks the lush gardens below, the moonlight casting a soft glow through the lace curtains. The overhead lights flicker, and I turn to see Adeana’s eyes trained on the light.

Her head lowers, and she smiles. “It’s something old houses do. Nothing to be concerned about.” There’s something in her tone and in the way her eyes crease at the corners that leads me to believe there’s something she isn’t saying. “Well…good night.” She bows slightly, closing the door behind her, leaving me to turn in circles, inspecting the incredible room.

I practically throw myself onto the bed, sighing at how comfortable it is. Mentally ticking off my to-do list before I can finally relax leaves me fidgety. First order of business: return Ava’s missed call, and tackle the dreaded conversation with my mother. She doesn’t call often, but when she does, there’s typically bad news to be shared.

An hour later, I’ve managed to complete everything on my list. My call to Ava went unanswered but was quickly followed up with a text letting me know she’s at the library studying for a quiz. We said our good nights because she wasn’t sure how long she’d be there.

My chat with my mother was brief. She called to express her regrets about missing Ava’s showcase. I reassured her that the important people would be in attendance and urged her to reach out to Ava. That landed like a lead balloon, but I don’t care.

I’m done with the nonsense that family is defined by blood. Ava and I found our family in Lanie and Nina, and we’re happier for it.

I’ve just finished removing my makeup and brushing my teeth when a sudden chill fills the air, accompanied by a ghostly breeze that seems to swirl around me with an otherworldly presence.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the cool air brushes against my skin. It’s as if the very atmosphere of the room has shifted, filled with an eerie energy that I’ve experienced before.

A spirit is here.

My heart pounds in my chest as I prepare to uncover the ghostly entity and what it wants with me.

“Who are you?” I say, moving in a circle, inspecting my surroundings.

My question goes unanswered, nothing materializing or making its presence known outside of the shifted air. It’s an old bed-and-breakfast with drafts, to be sure. Maybe I’m imagining it?

Suddenly, Lanie bursts into my room, her eyes wide with terror.

“Something is in that room,” she says, jabbing a finger in the direction of where she just came from. “I’m not sleeping in there.”

I smother a smile, recognizing that I was just having my own moment and shouldn’t tease her.

“Come on in. You can sleep with me,” I say, pulling back the covers and patting the mattress.

Without hesitation, she crawls into bed.

“I refuse to spend another moment alone in that haunted-ass room,” she barks, yanking the covers up to her chin. “My closet door kept creeping open. I even put a damn chair against it.” She shakes her head, shoulders shivering. “It flew across the room.”

My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

She nods. “Maybe not clear across, but it definitely moved away from the door.”

“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggest, lying down and getting comfortable.

Lanie follows suit and, despite the unsettling events, is able to relax, cuddling up next to me. We huddle together in the safety of my room, and before long, our breathing slows and my eyes close, the ghostly presence of the house seeming to fade into the background.

I’m not sure how long I’m asleep before I’m jolted awake by the sensation of the bed shaking beneath me. Confusion clouds my mind as I glance around the room, only to see the chandelier above us swaying ominously, and the lights flickering on and off erratically.

“Are you feeling this?” I whisper, turning to Lanie, who is also wide awake, her face reflecting the same mixture of disbelief that I feel.

Before she can respond, the trembling intensifies, causing the floorboards beneath us to creak and groan as if under immense pressure. Panic seizes me as I realize that this is no ordinary occurrence. This is one very pissed-off ghost.

With trembling hands, I reach for my phone, my fingers fumbling as I struggle to illuminate the room with its weak glow. The dim light casts eerie shadows across the walls, adding to the sense of foreboding that fills the air.

“We have to get out of here.” Lanie’s voice shudders as she speaks, her usually confident demeanor shaken by the supernatural events unfolding around us.

Without another word, we scramble to our feet, our movements frantic as we stumble toward the door, desperate to escape the haunting presence that lurks within the confines of this room.

As we burst into the hallway, the shaking subsides, leaving us breathless and shaken. We exchange glances, our minds racing with questions and uncertainties. What just happened? And more importantly, were we the only ones who experienced that?

Not another soul is to be found in the hallway. Nina is seemingly fast asleep in the comfort of her bed.

We rush to her door, banging our fists against the wood when we find it locked.

“Nina, wake up,” Lanie calls through the door.

When it finally swings open, Nina stands in the dark, dressed in a pair of shorts and a Nirvana T-shirt. She rubs at her eyes, dazed and unsure what’s happening.

“What?” she says, voice full of sleep.

“You didn’t feel the house shaking?” Lanie asks incredulously. “The place just about came down with us in it.”

Nina blows air out of her nose, making a sound between a grunt and a huff. “No.”

It’s all she says, clearly still asleep.

“Well, there is something here. Something dark,” Lanie says, looking to me for confirmation. I nod my head.

“Whatever it is, I’m not sure it’s a ghost,” I confess. “This felt different, worse than a poltergeist. It felt evil.”

The realization settles heavily in the pit of my stomach, filling me with an overwhelming sense of dread. “I don’t want to stay here,” I declare, my resolve firm as I glance nervously around the room, searching for any sign of the malevolent presence.

Despite not experiencing the unsettling phenomena firsthand, Nina seems fully awake now, her senses on high alert.

“Do you think it’s a…”

“Don’t say it,” I snap. “Don’t give life to whatever it is.”

Something within me is screaming to run. To turn away from the foreign entity.

We rush to the front desk and explain to Adeana that we need to leave.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she says. “With the festival in town, finding another room could be near impossible.” There’s something in her tone, a hint of underlying motive that makes me uneasy.

“What do you think?” Nina asks me, and I shrug. “I think it’s worth taking our chances. I’d rather catch a red-eye and head home than stay in this place another night.”

“You felt them,” Adeana murmurs.

“Them?” I repeat, with no shortage of frustration. “What is it?”

She sighs heavily, closing her eyes. “A year ago, we allowed two viral YouTubers to record their ghost-hunting show here. They did a séance with a Ouija board, and something…came through and stayed.”

My head lolls back on my shoulders. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t here,” she cries. “I found out after they left. The place was closed to visitors so that I could clean it up, and all hell broke loose.”

“Literally, if I had to guess,” Lanie deadpans, shaking her head.

“Can you help me get rid of them?” she asks.

I share a glance with my friends. Lanie shakes her head, signaling we should leave while we can. Nina, on the other hand, is looking at me like I couldn’t possibly desert Adeana in her time of need.

“Yes, but if there are multiple spirits here, I’ll need some help.”

“I’m out,” Lanie says, throwing her hands into the air. “You said not to say it, and here you are doing exactly that. I’m not playing with the devil, Alyssa.”

I run a hand back through my hair. “They’re angry ghosts, Lanie. Not demons. Geez. We’ll call on Bee tomorrow first thing and get rid of whatever is here.”

“How do you keep me safe?” Her voice pitches. “I might die before tomorrow.”

I roll my eyes. “We’ll take precautions. Everyone will sleep in Nina’s room. It seems to not be as active.”

Nina bobs her head.

I reach for my phone, dialing Nick’s number, completely forgetting what time of the night it is. Walking to a private corner of the place, I wait for Nick’s voicemail to kick on.

“Alyssa? What’s wrong?” Nick doesn’t sound like he’s been asleep at all.

“I’m staying at a very haunted bed-and-breakfast, and if I’m being honest, I’m spooked.” I begin to pace, recognizing just how much this encounter has me on edge. “I’m sorry for calling you at this hour. I’m not even sure why I did.”

He blows out a harsh breath. “When you say haunted…”

“I mean something evil that’s proving to have a lot of energy.”

He’s quiet for several moments, likely contemplating what to say to such a thing.

Poltergeists are unsettling and bring a chill with them. This brought foreboding. It’s a spine-tingling darkness that whispers promises of torture and death. It’s pure evil.

“You can’t stay there,” he says, and I huff a laugh.

“I don’t have a choice. I have to help.” I shuffle on my feet. “I’m not sure why I called. I guess…I just wanted to hear your voice,” I admit.

“I’m not gonna lie. A wicked part of me is getting too much satisfaction outta the fact you called me in the middle of the night because you’re scared.”

I bark a laugh. “You are wicked. Getting pleasure out of my fear.”

“No, darling. I’m getting pleasure outta the fact you gave me the chance to save you.”

I smile, shaking my head. “I don’t need saving, darling ,” I say, mocking him. “I’m perfectly capable of ending this angry spirit myself.”

He chuckles. “That, I do not doubt.” He’s quiet for a moment, voice serious when he continues. “But I can’t allow you to do this yourself. If you’re fighting evil, I am too.” He sighs. “I’ll catch the next flight out. I’m on break for two days.”

“You made me promise not to drag you into something like this again,” I say, reminding him of his words at Marmalade and Rye.

He barks a laugh. “That only pertained to Matilda and her sword of sage.”

I giggle, trying not to be too loud.

“If you insist on coming here, be prepared. This is different, Nick,” I say, hoping he hears how serious I am.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Lyss.”

As I hang up the phone, a sense of determination washes over me. We may have stumbled into a nightmare, but I can do this. I know I can. Having Nick here will only add a bit of comfort and a warm embrace to snuggle into after.

“Is there anyone else staying here?” I ask Adeana, who is watching me carefully.

She shakes her head.

“Good. Put on the No Vacancy sign. We’re having ourselves an exorcism tomorrow.”