Free Broken Wings: Genesis by A. J. Rand

it.
    Before I reached the door, I took
a few minutes to brush down the crumpled folds of the floral print skirt I was
wearing. Did I mention that I hated playing this part? The black leggings I
wore underneath had protected my legs from the sting of the wind on the ride
over. The skirt came to just above my ankles, and the bottom laced edging of
the leggings peeked out from below the hemline.
    Slipping off my leather, I pulled
a plain cream-colored knit shawl to wrap over my bare shoulders. The black,
sleeveless tee that I wore fit tight to my torso from waist to neck. The
epitome of soft femininity. Blech. The jacket was jammed into the straps of the
small pack I carried and I stepped up to the door. It was show time.
    Only a moment passed before the
door opened to show a woman who was maybe in her early forties. She was petite,
with short black hair, a shy smile and troubled brown eyes. She held the door
wide to invite me in, but didn’t offer her hand to touch me. “Hi. You must be
Yeshua?”
    “That’s me.” I gave her my own shy
smile in return, with a little uncertain shrug of my shoulders. I thought it
was a nice touch. Her smile warmed, but it still didn’t touch the uneasiness in
her eyes.
    “Welcome. Come on in, we’re
already setting up in the back.” I stepped inside and she closed the door. “I’m
Theo,” was all that she added before she led the way to the back of the house.
I had expected to be bombarded with questions, but I guess it wasn’t coming
from this quarter.
    The house was pleasant, very
homey. Several nice articles caught my eye in passing. A goddess shrine set in
the front entry wafted the sweet smell of Jasmine incense to greet new
arrivals. Huh. I wouldn’t have pegged Pietra for aligning herself with the
lion-headed Sekmet. She seemed too demure for chaos, and the goddess certainly
hadn’t given her the heads up on the dream stalker until it was too late.
    Sekmet didn’t really have a lion’s
head, but from what I’ve heard, she does tend to focus on chaos––or maybe chaos
focused on her? She was one of the immortals I hadn’t met. As I recall, she was
last living in Las Vegas
somewhere. It was a good hub of chaotic energy for her to draw from.
    In contrast, the living room
leaned more to a Native American motif. A beautiful, but haunting rendition of
the Cherokee Trail of Tears hung over the back of her blanket-covered sofa.
Theo led me through to the back door in the kitchen. Fairies decorated a small
natural altar just inside the door. Okay, maybe there was a little more chaos
to Pietra than I had first suspected.
    On cue, the High Priestess came
hustling up to us as soon as we stepped into the back yard. She had on a deep
purple robe, belted with a knotted cord at the waist. With a huge smile and a
genuine look of relief, she embraced me tightly.
    “Yeshua––I am so glad you made
it!” In a lower voice, she whispered with urgency, “he thinks I have been
talking with you for a while now––just in case it’s mentioned.”
    My face didn’t register her remark.
I pasted on a big smile of my own. “Pietra. Of course I made it. I have been so
looking forward to connecting with your group. I wouldn’t have missed this for
the world.”
    “Wonderful.” Pietra linked her arm
in mine and turned to face the people scattered around the fenced-in yard. “Let
me introduce you to the rest of the group.”
    She took me around and a string of
names floated across my subconscious mind. I made vague, generic remarks at the
introductions, but my conscious mind filtered it all out and took in the subtle
details of my surroundings.
    There he was, across the circle
sitting with two women of the coven. I could feel his energy reaching out to
touch me, even while talking to the women at his side. He sat as though he were
some kind of royalty, with two followers holding simpering positions of homage,
doting on his every word. Okay. So not all of the women were as affected by