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feel it.

“Come in,” I don’t look up. Instead, I keep reading the document in my hand. Her scent wafts through the air and I inhale deeply. I want the power position here and I know all the tricks to get it.

“Sit,” I nod to the chair as I concentrate, or rather, pretend to concentrate on this expense report. I grit my teeth to stop from forming a smile, as I can just imagine she rolled her eyes at me.

“One minute,” I put out my hand as I hear her sit in the chair.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she mumbles.

I clear my throat, laying the paper carefully down before straightening and giving her my full attention.

She looks stunning in her white summer dress, hair long and loose, wearing a touch of makeup. Her eyes are brighter, looking well rested. It suits her beautifully.

“You asked to see me?” I say.

“Sure did.” She sits taller.

“How can I help?”

“You can help by answering questions about what you told me last night.” Her eyes are focused on mine, watching intently.

“Are you going to do the same?” This is the only time I can find what I want to know. Give and take. That’s how it works. Everything is a negotiation.

She sighs. “Fine. But no bullshit. Just facts.”

This makes me smile. “No bullshit.” I agree. We’ll see how this goes.

“I’ll start.” She leans over and reaches in her bag, pulling out a notepad.

“Really?”

She snaps her head back to me. “Yes, really.” She shuffles in her seat, opening the notepad and clicking her pen. She crosses her legs and positions her pad on her bare knee. Her very distracting bare knee.

“Ok,” she studies her questions I assume, with her chin cocked. I wait for what is coming next. She takes her time and all my attention. Waiting in anticipation. And there you have it. She just took back control of this conversation. Using the same tricks, I did earlier. Clever girl. It just makes the heat burn deeper. Being around her, intoxicating.

“How does the prophecy get fulfilled?” She looks up expectantly. That I cannot answer.

“As I said last night, the details have always been grey at best. It’s been said the Mark of the Omni will unlock the sun during the darkness and bring forth a new beginning or the end of humanity.”

“That’s it?” She screws up her face. “That is all the information you have. Did you read it somewhere or did someone tell you?”

“I was told,” I answer honestly. Her eyebrows raise with the unasked question. “From the Omni.”

“You mentioned them before. Who are they? What are they?” I have put off diving deep into our world. Mortals tend not to do well with the truth. And we don’t like to share much to protect our way of life.

“They are, what you could say, the ones that rule over this world and the others.”

The pen stops moving mid stroke. She closes her eyes and draws in a breath. “Others?” Her voice breaks. She opens her eyes. “Like other worlds?”.

“More like realms. There are many portals throughout the world that have openings to other realms. Adelaide has one, hence why I stay here often.”

She runs her hands through her long hair. “This is more extreme than I thought.” She shakes out her shoulders. “I’m gonna put that on the back burner for now.” She looks flustered.

“What are you thinking right now?” I ask, trying to give her a break so she can focus on something else.

She scoffs, “I’m thinking I would give anything to go back, to just watching Topher in the kitchen. Laughing at his stupid pretend cooking shows, I always give him crap for doing.”

Although I can understand her being overwhelmed with the information, those words punch me in the gut. Go back to the time she didn’t know me. Here I’m thinking, how would I ever be able to go back to the days with her not in my life. And all she wants to do is turn back the clock, so all of this never happened.

“Those days are gone.” My voice is clipped.

Her shoulders slump and I instantly regret my words. I shouldn’t let my disappointment be an excuse to be rude to her. She’s discovering that what she thought was real is not. She’s entitled to her feelings. Even so. I don’t apologise.

“Yeah, I guess they are,” she says, her voice soft.

The silence lingers for a moment with words unsaid. Or maybe just my three. I am sorry. Still, I do not apologise.

“Ok, back to the prophecy.” She looks down at her notepad, then to me. “If that is all you know about it. Are you saying my life is in danger only because The Uprising want to use me for their own purposes? Do they know how the prophecy works?”

Do they? I have been wondering the same thing.

“I don’t believe so. There was some written word, apparently. By a seer, a descendant of witches, during some time in history. But no one has heard of it in centuries. Again, this is hearsay. I chased the diary for a very long time. Got nowhere.”

She bites her inner lip and looks up, mulling it over. I automatically think she might know something but dismiss it. How could she? She is here asking me the questions.

“You said last night that you want to keep me alive.”

“I do,” I say.

She nods. “If they want to use the mark. Me. Whatever it is to walk in the sun. What makes you think they want me dead?”

“What is known is that the prophecy can only be fulfilled during the transit of Venus. The pattern repeats approximatley every 250 years. It just so happens there is one this year.”

“When?” her voice raises. She is not going to like the answer.

“Next Monday.”

“What?” she yells. “Next Monday, as in seven days away next Monday?” Her face is losing its colour.

“Yes. One and the same. I don’t believe The Uprising know how to initiate and complete the prophecy. But I would assume

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