Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(8)

"Thanks." Mikki headed to the door marked 7. "Hope it quiets down for you tonight."

"Fat chance," Brandi muttered.

Mikki knocked on the closed door.

"You may enter." The old woman's distinctive voice called.

Mikki opened the door and peeked hesitantly into the room. Sevillana beckoned her in with her good hand. Her left hand was propped up on an aluminum arm that pulled out of the side of the examination bed. Someone had draped the shiny surface with a blue cloth. Mikki could see the laceration that slashed across the meaty part of her palm. It was slowly seeping blood.

"Come on in, my dear. The nurse has gone to collect some instruments with which to fix this." She nodded at her hand. "Apparently, I need stitches."

"I'm sorry," Mikki said automatically. "I hope it doesn't hurt too much."

"It is a small thing, Mikado." Sevillana gestured to the chair beside the bed. "Please, sit. It was kind of you to look in on me."

"I brought you this." Mikki handed her the insurance card, feeling chagrined that she hadn't really come to check on her.

"Thank you. I would never have remembered where I left it." Sevillana took the card and smiled warmly at Mikki.

Mikki sat. She tried to keep from staring at the old woman's wound, but like a horrible accident passed on a highway, her gaze kept being drawn back to it. And there was something else about Sevillana's palm. Mikki squinted, trying to get a better look at it.

"Blood is fascinating. Do you not think it so?" Sevillana's voice was hypnotic.

"The color always reminds me of roses," Mikki said softly. She forced her eyes from Sevillana's injured hand to her face. "I don't mean to sound like I'm a blood-crazed ghoul. It's just that freshly blooming roses and new blood share such a unique color. I don't understand why that should have a negative connotation," she finished defensively.

Sevillana's amazing blue eyes pierced her. "You are wise for one who is so young. For me, it took many years to understand that there is no negative connotation in what you say. Roses and blood do share many of the same traits, which is, truly, a wondrous thing."

Mikki took a deep breath.

"How do you know about roses and blood?" she blurted.

The old woman's answering smile was wise.

"Here we are!" The nurse hurried into the room carrying a tray filled with sterile instruments. She was followed by a female doctor Mikki recognized as being one of the new residents. "Doctor Mason is going to get you fixed right up."

The doctor glanced at Mikki. "Are you a relative?"

"No, I'm Jill Carter's assistant."

"You'll have to leave."

Mikki nodded and looked apologetically at Sevillana. "I have to go. It was really nice to meet you, signora."

"Wait a moment, my dear." Sevillana reached for her purse, which was lying next to her on the examination bed.

"Ma'am, if she's not a relative, she really must leave," Dr. Mason said.

"I understand that, young woman. I am not asking that she stay. I simply have something I must give her," Sevillana said in a tone a mother would use to admonish an errant child.

Without waiting for a response from the doctor, the old woman's uninjured hand disappeared into the bowels of her huge, baglike purse, and when it emerged, it was holding a small glass bottle. The bottle was no longer than Mikki's little finger, and it was shaped like a slender tube. There were knobby protrusions up and down the length of it. Mikki thought the design looked vaguely familiar.

"Here, my dear. I want you to have this."

Sevillana placed the vial in her hand, and when she touched it, Mikki realized why it looked familiar. It was a perfect glass replica of the stem of a rose, complete with tiny thorns.

"It is a perfume I had made for me when I last visited the island of Crete off the coast of the always lovely Greece. In the past, it has brought me good luck and more than a little magick. My wish is that it may do the same for you."

Mikki's hand closed over the bottle. "Thank you, Sevillana," she called as the nurse ushered her toward the door.

"Remember . . ." The old woman whispered after Mikado.

The door closed with a soft click.

Chapter Four

MIKKI'S apartment was a sanctuary. She'd signed the long-term lease five years before and hadn't been sorry once. She lived on the top floor of the small complex. It was a spacious, quiet place, but she hadn't decided on it because of its interior. She'd chosen it because of its location. The view from her wrought iron balcony, which wrapped from her living room past her bedroom, looked directly out on Woodward Park. Woodward Park adjoined her favorite place in the world - the Tulsa Municipal Rose Gardens.

Mikki checked her watch as she stepped onto the balcony. Almost six thirty. She had just enough time. She drank in the wonderful view of Woodward Park and noted that nothing wavered or shifted in the air. The park was simply the park. Briefly, Mikki strained to catch even an echo of a lonely roar, but except for the occasional car that whizzed past on 21st Street and the workers who were putting finishing touches on the stage for the play scheduled to open in a couple nights, everything was silent and ordinary. The October evening was pleasantly cool. The sun had just set, but the sky seemed reluctant to relinquish the remnants of its light. Slate blended with mauve and coral in the fading day. Mikki knew the colors would wane quickly, though. Tonight there would be a new moon, which meant the only light afforded by the night sky would be from its stars.