Doomsday Deck Page 6

  “Justine,” Willow said.

  “Last night.” Scowling slightly, Buffy began to pace.

  “Kind of strange, huh?”

  “I’m not sure I follow, Willow.” Giles was aware that his young associates read evil portent into anything unusual no matter how minuscule. It had also been proven on several occasions that their instincts were usually correct. However, he failed to perceive a threat in the benign concept of Tarot.

  “Well, it’s just that Xander suddenly turns into Mr. Strong, Silent Type after he has a Tarot reading done . . . and prolonged seclusion isn’t his usual M.O.”

  “Meaning he went home rather than meeting us at the Bronze last night,” Buffy added in response to Giles’s puzzled look.

  “And you suspect some sort of supernatural foul play may be responsible?” Giles asked. “As opposed to the possibility that Xander simply may have been too tired or depressed to join you.”

  “Or maybe he just isn’t ready to talk about the psychic thing.” Willow shrugged. “Especially after he made such a big deal about it.”

  “Possibly, but this is Hellmouth country.” Buffy unfolded her arms and straightened. “What if Justine is some kind of demonic femme fatale that attracts unsuspecting men for some unknown evil purpose? Xander wouldn’t be able to resist the bait.”

  Willow looked up sharply. “Oz is usually a bait-resistant guy.”

  “Of course he is,” Buffy said quickly. “Unless Justine’s secret weapon isn’t just a pretty face.”

  Although wary of jumping to conclusions, Giles wasn’t willing to dismiss Buffy’s concerns out of hand. “It might be prudent to investigate just to be sure.”

  Buffy’s eyes lit up. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  * * *

  “Did you bring your stake?” Willow glanced toward the sun as it vanished behind the low Sunny-dale skyline.

  Buffy patted her back pocket and scanned the Golden Lantern parking lot for Justine’s green van. “The dragon-mobile isn’t here, but the art show just closed down. Justine could get back any minute.”

  “We don’t need her crashing the snoop party.” Willow’s joking tone masked her uneasiness. They had reached Xander’s mom by phone before they left Giles’s apartment. Buffy had convinced Mrs. Harris to check and Xander was asleep on his basement sofa. Probably zonked from sitting in the sun with Justine all day. Still, it was odd that both Xander and Oz had developed acute fatigue.

  And Justine’s Tarot readings are the only thing they have in common lately, Willow thought as she jogged across the pavement behind the Slayer. If Justine was a mystic meanie, they had to find out without losing the stealth advantage.

  “Which room?” Willow whispered. Most of the windows in the long, one-story building were dark.

  Buffy shrugged as she walked to the first lighted window. The curtains were drawn, but as in most cheap motels, they were too small for the window and didn’t meet in the middle. She peeked inside and jumped back. “Short, bald man in bathroom. No way he’s Justine in disguise.”

  “Probably not.” Willow wrinkled her nose. The next lighted room was empty except for an open suitcase. She began to lose hope of turning up anything that would prove or disprove the Justine-is-evil theory, but they hit the jackpot in the last unit on the end.

  “This is her.” Buffy pointed through the partially open curtain. “I saw her work today and those paintings are shining examples of her freaky period.”

  Willow edged closer to Buffy. Unless they were locked in the bathroom, there was no sign of Xander or Oz. The four large canvases on the bed and leaning against the wall looked like Tarot card images. Nothing else about the room looked strange.

  “Those must be the pieces Justine wanted to finish,” Buffy said. “Guess she didn’t have time.”

  “Guess not,” Willow said, her gaze drawn back to the paintings. The first two, a winged angel and a dark tower, had not progressed past the black and gray contrasts of the underlying pencil sketches. Some light color washes had been applied to the painting with the devil figure. The colors in the Grim Reaper-stalks-bleak-desert picture were more vibrant, but the details were still vague.

  “Uh-oh.” Buffy grabbed Willow’s arm and pulled her around the corner of the building.

  “What?” Willow whispered from the safety of the shadows, then shrank back when she saw the green van. “Do you think she saw us?”

  “No, but—” Buffy tensed. She palmed her stake as Justine pulled the van into the parking space in front of the room. Several yards away, a dark figure eased out of the overgrown shrubbery that separated the unlit parking lot from the alley behind the neighboring mini-mall.

  “Vampire?” Willow whispered as the figure crept toward Justine’s van.

  Buffy nodded. “I’ll dust. You distract Justine.”

  “Okay.” Willow took a deep breath and stepped into the weak light cast by fixtures attached to the building. “Hey, Justine!”

  The artist looked up from the far side of the van and slammed the door closed. She smiled as she approached the room door. “Hi, there. What’s up?”

  From the corner of her eye, Willow saw the vampire suddenly change direction to run away from the motel. Buffy whirled to give chase. She moved closer to Justine and blurted the first excuse she could think of for skulking around the woman’s motel. “Uh—have you seen Oz?”

  “Not since I did a Tarot reading for him last night.” Justine peered into the dark when scuffling, rattling sounds behind the neighboring mini-mall rose above the white noise of passing traffic. “What’s that?”

  “Cats!” Willow said louder than she intended. “Getting into the trash.” She quickly changed the subject. “Xander said you did a reading for him, too. I’ve dabbled with it myself a little.”

  “Really?” Justine turned to unlock the door.

  “But I’ve never had a reading done,” Willow added. “Not a real one with an . . . expert. But I’ve always wanted to, you know, get a glimpse of my future.”

  “I’d be happy to do one for you.” Justine pulled her Tarot deck from her pocket and held it out. “If you’ve got time. I don’t charge anything like those phony TV people.”

  “Oh, well . . . uh . . .” Willow hesitated, wondering why Justine seemed so eager. Did she just believe in the soul-searching aspects of Tarot and her abilities? Or is there some creepy agenda?

  Willow heard the faint whack of the Slayer’s stake striking undead flesh followed by the whoosh of vanishing vampire.

  But since Buffy’s here as backup, Willow thought, now might be a good time to find out.

  She reached out to touch the deck.

  Justine yanked it back when Buffy suddenly appeared out of the dark. “Buffy! You startled me. What are you doing here?”

  “Just hanging out on a Friday night.” Buffy glanced at the cards in Justine’s hand.

  Afraid Buffy might counter her cover story, Willow jumped in. “Oz isn’t here, but Justine said she’d do a Tarot reading for me. Free even.”

  Buffy nodded. “Sounds like fun. Can I watch?”

  “Not a good idea.” Justine faltered under Buffy’s curious scrutiny and quickly explained her remark. “It’s just that a Tarot reading is a very personal thing . . . for the subject.”

  Willow realized that Buffy was baiting the artist, pushing for a reaction. “Well, then maybe Buffy can have a reading done, too!”

  “Great idea.” Buffy smiled, but her eyes were hard on the artist. “Forewarned is forearmed, right?”

  “What does that mean?” Justine snapped.

  Buffy held the woman’s narrowed gaze. “More than I meant it to, apparently.”

  When Justine bristled, Willow intervened to diffuse the tension. “I think Buffy just meant that if you know what’s in the future and you don’t like it, you can change it. Right, Justine?”

  Justine nodded. “Yes. Free will is always a factor.”

  “Right, so let’s get started,” Willow said w
ith feigned enthusiasm.

  “Actually, I’m a little tired. How about we do it some other time.” Justine opened her door and darted inside.

  Willow raised an eyebrow when they heard the security chain slip into place beyond the closed door. “So should I be worried now?” she asked Buffy.

  “I’m hovering between concerned and anxious.”

  * * *

  Justine pulled the curtain closed, then settled on the bed. Setting the Tarot deck on the nightstand, she hugged a pillow to her chest. The unexpected visit from Oz and Xander’s friends was disturbing. She had made Oz leave a message with Willow’s parents and then sent him home after the Tarot reading with instructions to stay put. However, she couldn’t monitor Oz’s every move in the beginning phases of the transition. Something must have happened to make Willow come looking for him.

  Justine picked up the phone and dialed the number Oz had given her. He answered after four rings. She hung up without speaking.

  If Willow and Buffy were really looking for Oz, they would have called or gone to his house, Justine thought uneasily. Oz is home, so that isn’t why they were checking out my room.

  Troubled, Justine retrieved her deck. She had to know if the two girls represented a new, unforeseen obstacle between her and her goal.

  Justine held the cards between her palms, her eyes closed in calming meditation for a moment before she shuffled. She decided to use a straight, five card spread rather than the Celtic cross pattern she had dealt for Xander and Oz’s readings.

  Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Justine dealt the first card. The Eight of Pentacles, a coin craftsman, represented all the hard work she had put into the project. This was no less than she expected.

  The second card, the Six of Wands, depicting a victorious horseman carrying a wand, assured her that she had successfully completed the necessary tasks so far. No surprise there, either.

  She paused and took a deep breath. If something had dramatically changed her prospects for the future, it would be revealed in the third, pivotal card in the spread.

  Justine turned over the Queen of Wands and inhaled sharply. A new element she had not seen in previous readings had been added to the equation.

  Whether or not she achieved her ultimate goal depended on a blond woman with blue-green eyes.

  Not Willow, then. Buffy.

  Needing more information, Justine decided to deal an extra card. She flipped the fourth card on top of the third instead of using it in the five-card pattern and gasped.

  The Magician, one of the twenty-two Major Arcana cards. Its meaning was unmistakable. The woman represented by the Queen of Wands was extremely powerful, with the ability to cast those energies against her.

  Justine stared at the pivotal pair of cards, as certain as she could be without positive proof that Buffy was the key to her success or failure.

  There’s only one way to find out, Justine thought. The next two cards, the fifth and sixth now because of the additional card, were indicators of the probable future. She turned over the Wheel Of Fortune—upside-down. The meaning of the ancient Tarot symbol was not as easy to interpret as the first three. Did it represent a complete reversal of fortune or that she was destined to reap what she had sown?

  Stumped, Justine dealt the last card.

  The Tower.

  Conflict and the destruction of my current way of life, she thought. In essence, exactly what I hope to achieve.

  Justine leaned back. An obstacle had been put in her path, but that did not necessarily mean all was lost. The probable futures portrayed by the cards were not absolute. She had free will. Taking action could alter the shifting course of fate indicated in the new reading.

  Smiling, Justine turned toward the unfinished painting of Judgment—the battle between good and evil.

  And the only weapon she needed to defeat the Queen of Wands.

  CHAPTER 8

  “What’s this?” Giles held the paper bag spotted with grease at arm’s length.

  “Hamburgers, fries, and chocolate shakes.” Buffy set the cardboard drink container on the study table. “I can’t brainstorm on an empty stomach.” Giles and Willow joined her at the table.

  “What did you find out on your expedition?” Giles asked.

  “Not much,” Buffy said, “but there’s definitely something up with Justine.”

  “She’s protected.” Angel entered the library so quietly Buffy hadn’t even sensed him. Her heart leaped into her throat at the sight of him.

  “By whom?” Giles asked.

  “Or what?” Willow unwrapped a burger and dumped a few fries on the paper.

  “I don’t know, but something’s been making Willy’s customers nervous enough to lie low.” Angel moved around the table to stand by the stairs, joining them while maintaining a discreet distance. “It’s emanating from Justine.”

  “How do you know?” Buffy sipped her shake.

  Angel glanced at Buffy from under hooded eyes. “I felt it when I followed you to her motel.”

  “Playing guardian Angel again, huh?” Buffy teased, but she was elated.

  “Felt what exactly, Angel?” Giles winced slightly as Willow bit into her burger.

  “Repelled,” Angel answered simply.

  “Intriguing.” Giles shifted his glance to Buffy and back to Willow. “Did either of you sense anything threatening from this woman?”

  “No, not threatening,” Willow said. “First Justine wanted to do a Tarot reading for me and since I knew Buffy was there, it seemed like a good idea because it might have given us a clue. I mean, in case anything weird happened, which it didn’t. But Justine changed her mind after Buffy showed up.”

  Buffy nodded. “She protects that Tarot deck like her life depends on it.”

  “Which is not unusual as we discussed earlier.” Giles pulled a shake from the cardboard holder. “Anything else?”

  Buffy looked at him askance as he shoved a straw into the shake. “Just the Tarot paintings.”

  “Big Tarot paintings,” Willow added. “In various stages of being finished.”

  “I see.” Giles paused thoughtfully and took a sip. “Paintings of what cards?”

  “The dead guy wearing the hooded cloak looked like it was almost done.” Buffy tore open another packet of ketchup.

  “That would be Death,” Giles said.

  Angel leaned against the banister. Buffy sensed his discomfort. Because of Justine or just his garden-variety tortured soul issues?

  Willow swallowed. “Then there was the devil with some chained people, a winged angel surrounded by fire and a dark tower in a storm.”

  “The Devil, Judgment, and the Tower. Interesting.” Giles reached for one of Buffy’s fries.

  Buffy playfully slapped his hand away and handed him his own packet. “What happened to American food—bad?”

  “I’m hungry.” Giles adjusted his glasses and folded his hands. “All four are Major Arcana cards, from the original Tarot before the suit cards were added.”

  “What do they mean?” Willow asked.

  “Whether for good or bad depends on how the cards are dealt, but each of these four represents a specific aspect of change.” Giles picked up a fry and nibbled the end.

  “Such as?” Buffy prompted.

  “Death deals with the past and the future,” Giles explained. “The Devil in matters of life decisions that seem too confining. The Tower represents rapid change arising from destruction. Judgment, however, is a bit more complex.”

  “How so?” Willow wiped her chin with a napkin.

  Giles ate another fry before going on. “Judgment could mean anything from breaking free of seemingly helpless circumstances—”

  Too close to home for comfort, Buffy thought with a guarded glance at Angel. Their relationship—or lack thereof—was one of the most helpless circumstances she’d known.

  “—or simply being accountable for one’s actions. It also represents the universal conflict between good and evil.”<
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  “And all this could be a threat because?” Buffy forced her attention back to matters at hand and looked at Giles levelly.

  “I’m not sure there is a threat,” Giles admitted. “Tarot is harmless except when the uneducated take their readings too literally and act foolishly as a result.”

  “Like Xander.” Willow sighed.

  “We don’t know what Justine told Oz,” Buffy pointed out. “Maybe we should ask.”

  Willow winced. “I’m not sure I want to know. What if it’s something wolf-related? That excludes me?”

  “I can’t see that happening, but I’ll ask for you if you’d like.” Buffy didn’t press Willow, although it wasn’t hard to figure out she was worried about how she fit into Oz’s future. A cosmic crowbar couldn’t pry them apart, but only time would prove it. “Be right back.”

  Buffy slipped into the office and closed the door to use the phone. After several rings Oz answered. “Hey, Oz. Catch up on your sleep?”

  “Yes.”

  Silence.

  “Listen, I’m at the library with Willow. She’s a little concerned . . . about the Tarot reading you had last night. I know it’s silly and she shouldn’t be, but something about Justine seems off. What happened? With the reading, I mean.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, well, that’s good, I guess. I just thought I’d ask. I guess we were overreacting.” Buffy waited, but Oz didn’t respond. “Oz, if possible, you’re even more stoic than usual,” she stated flatly.

  “I’m fine.” Oz hung up.

  Buffy exhaled as she replaced the receiver. Something was definitely wrong, but it didn’t have anything to do with Oz’s feelings toward Willow. Oz tended to be verbally economical, but never abrupt.

  “What did he say?” Willow asked when Buffy returned to the study table.

  “Yes, nothing, and I’m fine,” Buffy said. “In that order.”

  “That’s rather terse even for Oz. This increases the likelihood that Justine’s reading has cast some sort of hold over him and Xander.” Giles shoved a half-eaten hamburger aside.

  His disgust apparently winning out over his appetite, Buffy thought with amusement.