She raised an eyebrow. "My beliefs are not the point—it is the silliness of these books, these novels that you and others insist on believing are real that I'm concerned about."
"I don't believe they're real," I said at the same time Roxy muttered, "They're a lot more real than some things I can name."
"Only the foolish meddle in the darkness in men's souls," Miranda warned.
"Dark Ones are not evil, they just appear that way at first!" Roxy snapped back.
They glared at each other until I decided to mellow them both out.
"Would you two lighten up a bit? You're giving me the creeps with all this talk about the dark power of men's souls and stuff."
Miranda was shaking her head again, even before I stopped speaking. "The dark power within each of us is nothing to joke about, Joy."
"Right. Sorry. So why don't we agree to disagree?" I asked, gesturing between the two of them. "Roxy will continue to believe that there are actual Moravian Dark Ones wandering around looking for women to save their souls, and you'll continue to believe that famed author C. J. Dante is a nutball bent on world domination by brainwashing millions of frustrated housewives. K? Are we all happy now?"
"I won't be until she takes back what she said about the Dark Ones!"
Miranda sighed as she made sweeping gestures with her hands to reinforce the bounds of the circle. "Very well, I take it back. They're harmless little books that give you and millions of others pleasure, and as long as you realize they are fiction, complete fiction, and not a guidebook to exploring the dark forces within, I will withdraw my objections."
I figured that was as much of an apology as she was going to give. Roxy evidently decided the same, because she nodded.
"I want to warn you both, though," Miranda added as she shook a long, elegant finger at us, "that those who play with fire should expect to be consumed by it."
"Consumed by the fire of passion." I grinned at her as I fingered the remaining ice in my glass. "Sounds like something from one of Dante's books! I'm willing to bet there are worse ways to go, huh?"
Davide gave me another silent hiss.
Chapter Two
"You think she's mad at us?"
Roxy rolled her eyes and shifted into third, a quick flip of her wrist sending her ancient MG hurtling into what looked like a four-foot space between two semis. Once I stopped screaming and peeled my hands from my eyes, I turned to glare at her.
"No, I don't think Miranda is mad at us."
"Oh, good." If there's one rule I try to live my life by, it's not to make a witch angry.
"I think she's mad at you."
"She is not," I said indignantly, trying to adjust my legs. In the tiny car, my knees were pretty much jammed under my chin. It's been my experience that people who are six feet tall and built like a brick house don't fit well into tiny sports cars. "You're the one who had to go babbling on and on about how you believe in the Dark Ones."
"Well, I do. You do, too."
"I do not."
"Ha! Just last week when you finished Book of Secrets XII you said that Xavier was the hunkiest Moravian yet, and that if you had been around, he never would have had to face The Decision by himself because you would have been there to save him before he became that desperate. Go on, tell me you didn't say that. Tell me you didn't call dibs on him before I could."
"Fwah! I don't believe in any of that hocus-pocus, and you know it."
"If you don't believe, why do you read rune stones for people, hmmm?"
I gave her a jaded smile. "Because they're pretty. You know full well it's just a party trick, nothing more."
"Ha! A party trick doesn't explain—"
"LOOK OUT! Dammit, Roxy, will you watch where you're going? You almost gave me a heart attack!"
She honked and waved at the semi truck driver as we swerved around it, zooming down the long, curving highway so characteristic of the wild, untamed back roads of Oregon. I read her the riot act on trying to kill us through careless driving, which she responded to with injured silence. I took advantage of the quiet to think over the events of the evening. Evidently, Roxy was doing the same.
"Joy?"
"What?"
She said nothing for a minute. "You know, you don't have to go to Czechoslovakia with me."
"It's the Czech Republic now."
"Oh." An owl flirted with the car's high beams, a flash of ghostly white wing catching my peripheral vision before it melted into the darkness. "Whatever they're calling it now, I appreciate the offer to come with me, but given what Miranda said…"
I swallowed hard and gnawed on my lip, trying to remind myself that I didn't believe in any of the things Miranda said she could do, or see, or manifest. Most were coincidences that would have happened regardless of whether or not she was seeking the advice of some greater being. I was a sensible person. I didn't believe in Bigfoot, or ghosts, or vampires, or even the powers held by white witches.