vaguely remembered something about archangels, and he’d definitely heard the name Gabriel before. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?” She said, clearly confused by his question.
“Does this get me closer to what I’ve wanted for damn near three years?”
Mrs. French laughed lightly. “It does, my dear boy. That mark will open doors you didn’t even know existed. Getting into Satyr will not be difficult at all.” She stood, bowing slightly before turning to leave.
“One more question, Mrs. French.”
She looked at him over her shoulder.
“What type of Mystic are you?”
“I am a Sila. A type of Djinn, or as humans like to call us—a genie.”
“I’ve never heard of a Sila.”
“I would expect not. We are rare and while we are meddlesome, we only do it in an attempt to help.”
“So you being here wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Nothing ever is, Mr. Morgan,” she said slyly as she walked out the door.
“Wait, Mrs. French, I have…” He trailed off, surprised to see her disappear in a puff of smoke.
“I will never get used to Mystic powers,” Griff said, shaking his head.
“I suggest you try. I think I just became one.”
April 6 th , 6:00pm
Jack promised Griff he’d wait until after work to head to Satyr. Their conversation after Mrs. French vanished before their eyes had been…interesting. Griff wasn’t as familiar with Mystics. He knew they existed. Knew some worked for them, but he had the more laid back attitude of what he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Jack wanted to blame it on the more sheltered life Griff had growing up, but that could only go so far. He and Griff were thirty. They owned a company together. It was time to open his eyes to the greater world around him.
Now that Jack, for all intents and purposes, was a Mystic; he hoped Griff’s attitude would change. That wasn’t something Jack could worry about at the moment. He had much more pressing issues to deal with. Like a certain nymph thinking she could give herself to another man.
Climbing into his sleek sports car, he flung his overnight bag into the passenger seat. He made a beeline straight to his condo after his last meeting of the day. Griff knew not to expect him the rest of the week and, thanks to Lisa’s insightful scheduling, Jack wasn’t actually needed.
Speeding across town, he arrived at Satyr within fifteen minutes. He pulled into the valet parking area, grabbed his bag, handed his valet key over, and took the ticket from the young man drooling over his car. “It’ll be here until Friday.”
As the man passed by him and uttered yes sir , Jack’s senses came to life. He smelled the woods after a heavy rain, wet loam and pine; the earthy scents were strong but not overpowering. He turned to look at the kid as he climbed into the car. He was tall, with whipcord leanness to his body. A narrow, long face framed by shaggy brown hair that immediately made him think wolf. Jack shook his head at the vision and made his way inside.
He knew from the many times he’d driven past Satyr that it had two main entrances. One leading to the club, and one leading to the retreat side for the patrons utilizing rooms for overnights or longer periods of time. Jack headed into the retreat side. He figured he’d have a better chance of finding Lisa if he started there.
The huge glass doors slid open silently. As he stepped through, it was like stepping into another world. The lobby was done in elegant shades of deep red and rich dark woods. High ceilings, frescoes, throne chairs, and white marble added to the opulence. Dim lighting and soft music pumped through hidden speakers. And the light scent of lavender wafted through the air.
“Welcome to Retreat Satyr,” a distinguished older man greeted him. “If I could see your membership, sir.”
“I don’t have a membership yet. This is my first time here.”
The man sniffed subtly, but it didn’t escape