Page 15 of Pledge Of A Bobcat
“Thanks.”
“Who’s Dean?” Rachel asked.
“He’s part of the Misfits. If we have an alpha, it’s him.”
“Oh. Cool,” she said as Mariam came back with our waters.
She set them down on the table and then moved on to take someone else’s order. The place was busy, as usual.
“So, what is it that you do? For a living?” I asked, taking a sip of my water.
That desperate need to know her was gnawing at me again.
“You mean besides raising a little girl?” She gave me a look that said that was a job all in itself. “I have a little online shop where I sell intention candles and ritual perfumes.”
I wasn’t sure why this surprised me, but it did.
“What’s that look?” she asked, her eyes narrowing on me.
“Nothing. That just surprised me and I’m not sure why,” I admitted. “What are intention candles and ritual perfumes exactly?”
“Well, intention candles are designed to help someone focus their energy and intention to manifest a specific desire or outcome they want. I make each candle with herbs and oils that are chosen for their specific properties—like lavender for its calming scent or rosemary for protection. As the candle burns it releases the energy of the herbs and oils to help the person focus on their desire and support their manifestation,” she said, sounding so passionate and lit up. “Ritual perfumes are similar in concept, but they work on a more personal, everyday level. They’re blends of essential oils and botanical essences chosen for their symbolic or energetic properties. You apply them like any `perfume but hold a purpose in mind while you do—whether it’s to ground yourself, protect your energy, or feel more confident. It’s about carrying that intention with you and using the scent as a reminder and a source of support throughout the day.”
“Wow, okay,” I said, holding her stare. “And you don’t think that’s your gift? Knowing how to create these things and helping people in this way?”
She shook her head. “This is just something I’ve learned, not something I was born knowing.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Aunt Maribel has always been able to hear the wind’s whispers and to talk with spirits. It’s her gift. Tarot is her tool that she’s learned over time to master, and being a shaman is how she brings everything together.” She paused to take a sip of her water. “Making intention candles and ritual perfumes are my tools. They’re not my gift. I wasn’t born knowing how to make them, it’s just something I’ve mastered over time.”
I nodded. “I see.”
Mariam brought our food over then.
“What do you do?” Rachel asked before popping a fry into her mouth.
“Nothing as exciting as you,” I admitted, flashing her a lopsided grin. “I fix small engines at a shop in town—lawn mowers, chainsaws, ATVs.”
“So, you’re handy,” she said, smiling. “Good to know.”
We fell into easy conversation, Rachel shared a few stories about Serenity, and I found myself laughing—genuinely laughing—for the first time in days. The weight of Xander and the danger he posed melted away for a while.
Until Dean made his way to our table. Then reality settled in again.
“Hey there,” Dean said when he reached our table. “How were the burgers?”
“Great, as always. Thanks, man.”
Dean’s gaze shifted to Rachel. He nodded to her in greeting. “Hey, I’m Dean.”
“Rachel,” she said, smiling.
“I hear you’re making sure Ellis is gathering the right things for your aunt,” he said. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Dean shifted his attention back to me. “How many have you gathered today?”