The Dark Priestess, Book One in the Cursed Trilogy

Chapter One

I can feel a change coming.  It whispers to me in the howl of the wind and slashes at me in the rain and sleet.  I can feel it cling onto my body, swirling around me, enveloping me like a mist.  It sings to me in the call of the birds and shines down on me in the rays of the weak sun...the change.

Outside, the rush hour traffic is just starting to build.  The smell of fumes hang in the air.  Fat, dark grey clouds obscure the sky, and raindrops pelt the pavement with a vengeance.  A blast has blown in from the Atlantic, coating everything in a thin layer of frost. Winter has taken a hold of England in her relentless icy embrace - the days have become shorter, and it’s gotten colder.  The frigid air, heavy and charged gives me an unsettled feeling.  The ground below my feet is damp and slippery from the rain.  I try my best to avoid the water that splashes up from the passing traffic, but to no avail, I’m completely drenched.

It really is one of those days where I’d rather be inside at home with a steaming cup of black coffee - looking out of the window, feet curled beneath me.  Yet here I am, running late for a meeting.  I’d parked at the Charing Cross train station about fifteen minutes away from where I needed to be.  It was the nearest parking spot I could find at this time.  I find myself having to fight my way through the suffocating crowd that is headed towards the Charing Cross Musical Hall for the night’s scheduled program.  The shops that line the streets are already winding down, closing for the day.  I quicken my pace, mindful of the dimming daylight and am glad when I finally turn onto Northumberland Avenue where Bedford, Mills and Co., my accountants are based.

I sigh with relief when I thankfully step into one of the more modest looking buildings in central London.  It is a simple square mid-terraced grey building no more than six floors high.  Closing the heavy wooden door behind me immediately drowns out the pandemonium of the heaving traffic outside.  I remove my coat and shake the rain from my umbrella, already feeling the frigid cold slowly start to seep away from my bones.  I feel myself relax to the heat that circles lazily around the room.  I run my hand through my hair, trying to pat it down, praying to God it hadn’t frizzed up as it was wont to do.  I sneak a look at my reflection in the windows beside the door I had just come through but can’t make anything out.  The rain runs down the glass in rivulets, leaving a distorted version of my reflection behind.  I’d have to make do as there definitely was no time to make a detour to a bathroom. 

The vast reception area is relatively empty, apart from the last few stragglers leaving, letting in the cold air through the same door I’d just come through.  Most of the people who work in the building had already gone home for the day it seems.  I didn’t blame them for leaving in haste; it is nearly the end of the working week after all.  After this meeting, I too am done for the week.  I looked forward to going home, throwing on my pyjamas and getting lost in a good movie.  In my peripheral view, to the left, I notice a lone man standing at the reception desk.  Now, this wouldn’t have normally piqued my interest, but somehow I feel my gaze involuntarily shift to look at him as I make my way to the lifts.  He is tall, over 6ft tall, impeccably dressed in a dove grey suit that looks very expensive and emphasises his broad shoulders.  He wears no tie and the top button of his white shirt is undone showing slightly tanned skin underneath.     

For reasons unknown, the laptop case I’m carrying falls from my hand, slipping from my fingers onto the marble tiles below, as if a sudden icy breeze has whooshed through the room and right on through the very core of my soul, throwing in a weird sense of déjà vu.  The stranger breaks off from talking to the pretty receptionist and turns in my direction.  He’s almost still as a statue, his eyes search my face intently.  His blue eyes pierce mine - eyes the colour of a dark, stormy night.  I find myself unashamedly staring back at him.  It’s like time has frozen for us both as we stand here gazes locked.