"We're running short on time people!" I heard Beau shout.

"You heard the man. Let's find the three eyed-woman," Lincoln said.

It felt like a mad dash as we sprinted off in separate directions, my eyes scouring the throng of people, hoping to catch glimpse of this mythical woman.

I pushed through a horde of tourists, busy taking pictures of the Jackson monument and the Cathedral, my eyes darting back and forth seeking a woman with an extra eyeball. I tried examining the expressions on people's faces as well. Surely there would be some type of negative reaction if someone saw a woman with a genetic deformation on their forehead.

And then I saw the bright yellow display lined up against the gates of the square. It read "Isadora's Infinite Inspirations."

We must have misinterpreted the information. It was the woman with three 'I's to her name, not a woman with three eyes.

Sitting in front of a small table was a stunning woman with beautiful blue eyes (only two of them) that looked like diamonds plucked from the ocean. Her skin was almond colored and her hair was braided in an exotic fashion, which gave me the impression she was from an island paradise worshipped by the sun.

She was wearing a beautiful white dress that seemed out of place amongst the other artists, who were dressed in gnarly clothing.

I quickly dialed Lincoln's number on the cell phone.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I found her on the west side. Look for her sign, Isadora's Infinite Inspirations."

I heard him groan.

"Yeah, I know, it wasn't the three eyes we were thinking," I replied.

"I'm on my way."

I hung up the phone and approached Isadora.

She looked at me and smiled, displaying a set of perfect, pearl-white teeth.

"Good afternoon," she said, "May fate and magic smile upon you. The price for a reading is ten dollars."

I rummaged through the pockets of my jeans, looking for spare change that would equal to four dollars and forty-four cents.

I pulled out a five dollar bill and threw it down on the table. "Can I get fifty-six cents back?" I asked.

Isadora looked, puzzled. "Sorry, exact change only."

I groaned as I pulled out a handful of bills and coins. I tossed three one dollar bills at her and then scrambled to make up the remaining balance from the quarters, dimes, and pennies I had collected.

While I rummaged through my pocket change like an old bag lady at the grocery store, I heard a woman display interest in Isadora's fortune services.

"It's been so long since I had my fortune read," she said to her companion.

I immediately spun around and showed them the palm of my hand, all five fingers splayed outward. "Hey, back off lady. I need this more than you do."

Both the old woman and her husband shot me an acidic glare that could corrode steel.

"Perhaps I can serve them first while you-" Isadora began, but I spun around and directed my palm at her instead.

"I got this," I said, returning my attention back to the coins as I frantically continued to count out change.

d.a.m.n it Beau, if you had told me earlier, at least I could have the money counted out beforehand.

"Short on cash sweetheart?" Beau strolled up behind me and lay down four one-dollar bills along with some neatly piled coins.

He looked at Isadora's sign and then shrugged. "Well look at that, the woman with three 'I's to her name. And here I was frantically searching for a gal with three peepers."

Isadora took Beau's money and shoved it into a tin jar that lay on the table. She turned her attention to me. "There are ghosts haunting you," she said.

"What?" I was taken aback by her directness.

"There are ghosts clinging to your neck, suffocating you," Isadora repeated.

I thought of Justin, and how every night, he tortured me with his presence. But it was my own guilt that was haunting me, not some spooky ooga booga s.h.i.t.

"Sorry lady, but I don't believe in ghosts."

Isadora smiled at me. "We're all haunted by them girl, but most of us have learned to deal with them. You on the other hand, the ghosts you have will drag you far down the hole if you can't rid yourself of them."

Her words seeped through my head and right down into my heart.

"I can help you girl," she said. "Say the word and I can help free you from the darkness. That is the power of my magic."

I stayed silent, enchanted by the idea of having a good night's sleep. But who was this woman? I had the same question about her as I did for everyone new I met since discovering the dark world of the Midnight Society-Could she be trusted?

Before I could reply, Lincoln arrived.

"Isadora's Infinite Inspirations," he read aloud. He turned his attention to Isadora and smiled pleasantly. "We'd like to see Mr. Friday."

"You're another one haunted by ghosts," she said as she sized up Lincoln from head-to-toe.

He gave her an incredulous look. "Excuse me?"

"Apparently the lady is an expert on all things spooky in nature," Beau remarked. He looked at her with a squinted eye, as if he were trying to dissect her with his gaze. "You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Friday's partner in crime would you, the wicked witch of New Orleans that we hear about all the time?"

Isadora laughed. "Is that what they call me these days, a witch?"

"It isn't true?"

Isadora shrugged. "I am whatever you make me out to be. If the people are whispering that I'm a witch, then who am I to argue?"

"Don't get me wrong, you're one fine witch, if I ever did see one," Beau said, his voice laced with sugar and spice.

"How about we get back to Mr. Friday?" Lincoln asked again.

Isadora nodded. "Drive me to my shop, and I shall take you to him."

Beau took one step closer to Isadora, no doubt drunk on her beauty. "Well isn't that a coincidence. I'm a small time business owner myself," he said. "I have a quaint little shop called the Angel's Trumpet over on St. Peter Street. I sell the prettiest little things; antiques and trinkets that I think you'll love."

I rolled my eyes. Beau was a walking erection.

Isadora looked at him with ambivalence and shrugged. "Maybe I'll have a look one day," she said, clearly feigning interest.

"And what is it that you sell in your shop?" Beau asked.

Isadora cracked a smile. "Why isn't it obvious?" she asked as she leaned in closer and whispered to all of us. "I sell magic."

Chapter Seventeen.

Shadow I woke up to the crunching of cereal and a keyboard clacking. Reiko sat at the dining room table, wearing yoga pants and a white tank-top. One hand rapidly moved across the keys of her laptop, the other held a white porcelain bowl filled with cereal.

I sat up on the couch, still fog-headed, and stretched.

My entire body ached from the fight last night. There may have been an easier way to have gotten Cairo's attention-besides choking oxygen out of his brain cells first-but all other ideas I had would have had the same outcome: Cairo bludgeoning me with sledgehammer fists.

He always had the temperament of a raging bull.

"There's cereal if you're hungry and your choice of normal, soy, or almond milk," Reiko said, not bothering to take her eyes away from the screen.

She took a break from her one-handed typing in order to scoop a generous helping of cereal into her mouth.

I walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up the box of Lucky Charms, written in Chinese, and grabbed myself an empty bowl from the dish strainer.

"Lucky Charms?" I asked.

"They're magically delicious," Reiko replied as she continued to work away on her white Macbook.

"Nice choice."

"Not mine," Reiko replied. "Cairo likes sweet cereals, especially ones with those fake marshmallows in it.

After pouring myself some breakfast, I returned to the couch and ate quietly, leaving Reiko to do her work. The rhythmic sounds of her typing on the keyboard and the crunching of cereal filled the silence.

Not even two minutes later, I was getting antsy. I wanted an answer from Reiko regarding my offer to join the Midnight Society.

However, she wasn't a girl that liked to be pushed. I needed to be strategic about it.

"So..." I began.

"I'll help you, Shadow," she replied, eyes still glued to the monitor.

Well that was easy. "Good," I said. "That's good."

"But not for the reasons you're thinking of," she added.

"Oh?"

She closed the laptop and turned her attention to me. She set down her bowl of cereal.

"Ever since Cairo found out his dad died, it's been eating away at him," she said. "He doesn't talk to me about it, probably because I've completely shut out the idea of grieving over my father's death, but I know what he's feeling deep down inside. He feels guilty that he abandoned his dad and his sister and regrets that he wasn't there to stop it from happening."

"There's nothing he could have done," I said. "Calisto pulled the wool over everyone's eyes."

"You know how men are," Reiko said. "Every single alpha male thinks they have the capability of altering the course of history. If I gave you a gun and dropped you in the middle of n.a.z.i Germany during World War II, what would you try and do?"

"Steal a tank?" I replied.

"You males all think the same way," she continued, ignoring my comment. "Sometimes, you just can't let our history be just that-history."

"So you're helping me because..."

"Because Cairo feels the need to help you," Reiko replied, "And because I love him, I'm with him. Once Calisto is taken down, he'll feel a sense of justice and it'll soothe his restless heart. He needs to stop feeling guilty."

"What about you?" I asked. "Do you feel guilty?"

Reiko looked at me and shrugged. "I feel guilty for Cairo feeling this way. I was the one who dragged him halfway across the world to be with me," she said. "I know somewhere deep in his heart, he wanted to go back." Reiko paused. "I had no intentions of going back to America-back to the Midnight Society-so selfishly I kept him here, halfway across the world."

"What about James? What about your dad?"

Reiko shot me a look, one that was filled with vile bitterness.

"He's dead," she replied. "It's history to me."

There was finality in her voice, telling me this topic of conversation was over.

"Okay," I replied.

She got up from her seat, picked up her bowl and walked over to the sink. "Open up the laptop and have a look," Reiko said as she turned on the tap to rinse the bowl out. "The pa.s.sword is Sailormoon."

I flipped open the Macbook and typed in the pa.s.sword, wondering if it was Reiko or Cairo who came up it. The screen unlocked, displaying an array of bank accounts.

"What am I looking at?" I asked.

"The Triad's new corporate financial infrastructure," she replied. "This should be more than enough to satisfy Nathan Tse."

I was stunned. "How long did it take you to do this?" I asked.