The Tower Reversed: Back to 18 (Venus) novel Chapter 7

**One Step Changes Everything**
**By Ruby Parker**

**Chapter 7: You Flirt with Girls Using My Money?!**

Venus was convinced that Drake had done some serious harm to Rowan, perhaps even broken his arm. The moment she pulled him from the car, her heart raced with dread as she examined his injury. Relief washed over her when she discovered that it was merely dislocated—excruciating, yes, but not shattered.

“Hold still,” she instructed, her voice steady and firm.

Before Rowan could fully comprehend her words, Venus seized his arm with determination. With a swift twist, she expertly popped the bone back into its rightful place.

Rowan blinked in astonishment, moving his arm tentatively. To his surprise, the pain had vanished. “Ms. Burn, do you have some knowledge of medicine?” he asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Venus remained silent, a veil of mystery surrounding her.

In the realm of occult practices, there existed five revered paths: Spirit, Healing, Fate, Vision, and Divination. Each path held its own sacred significance, weaving together the fabric of the universe in ways most could only dream of comprehending.

The Spirit path, also known as the Path of Ascension, was dedicated to the mastery of the spiritual realm: rituals, alchemy, spellcraft, and the relentless pursuit of enlightenment.

Healing, on the other hand, was the sacred art of medicine—encompassing herbal remedies, energy therapy, and the gentle laying on of hands to restore harmony to both body and soul.

The Fate path delved into the mysteries of destiny, utilizing astrological charts, planetary alignments, and elemental forces to unveil the intricate patterns of fortune and misfortune.

Vision was the craft of discerning signs—those of the universe, the human body, and the very land beneath one’s feet. It included practices like aura reading, physiognomy, and geomancy, each revealing secrets hidden in plain sight.

Divination was the art of prophecy itself: tarot readings, interpreting omens, and knowing when to seize the moment.

Venus had been fortunate enough to learn all five paths from her mentor.

In a previous life, she had risen to become the Oracle Supreme, a title that echoed across continents. Those in power clamored for an audience with her, including the Burns themselves, drawn by her enigmatic aura.

Drake observed her in silence, his gaze penetrating and inscrutable.

He had always been delicate, a frail figure since childhood, and had consulted countless doctors over the years. The way Venus had so effortlessly repaired Rowan’s arm spoke volumes; she was no novice in the healing arts.

His grandfather often reminisced about Skylor, claiming he wasn’t merely an oracle but also a miraculous healer.

Perhaps Venus had absorbed a trick or two from her mentor. He could entertain the idea that she possessed knowledge of medicine. But the occult? That was a leap he couldn’t make.

Drake was a man grounded in science—an atheist through and through. Spirits, in his mind, were nothing but figments of imagination.

If spirits existed, then where was his sister? Why hadn’t she ever made an appearance, not even in his dreams? The thought weighed heavily on him; when people passed away, they were simply gone from this world.

His gaze fell, shadows creeping into his expression.

Suddenly, Rowan glanced at his watch, his eyes widening in alarm. “Whoa, it’s almost one! We shouldn’t be wandering around at this hour. Come on, Ms. Burn, I’ll drive you home.”

Venus shot him a glare that could freeze fire.

“No need for that. I’ll take a walk by the lake. The view is quite lovely,” she replied, her voice calm but resolute.

Rowan stared at her as if she had lost her mind. “At this hour? It’s pitch-black near the lake! And didn’t someone commit suicide there last year? Aren’t you afraid?”

A faint smile danced on Venus’s lips. That was precisely the allure of her destination. The lake was steeped in dark energy—the kind that clung to places where death had once cast its shadow.

She turned her gaze to Drake, who stood silently beside her, an enigmatic presence. After a brief pause, she said, “Give me your hand.”

Drake’s deep, watchful eyes narrowed slightly, his voice steady. “Why?”

“You mentioned not wanting to stay near me for three days, right? Then you should do as I ask if you wish to avoid any misfortune. I’m going to help you break the blood omen.”

Rowan erupted in laughter. “Haha! So now you’re one of those little witches, huh?”

But his laughter faltered when Venus’s voice shifted, taking on a darker tone. “Hospitals are rife with dark energy. It’s all too easy to attract spirits there. Doctors may save lives and accumulate good karma, but that doesn’t shield them from harm. Mr. Hill, you’d best be wary of your admirer from the underworld.”

Rowan shivered, a chill running down his spine. “Okay, okay, I give in! Don’t scare me like that!”

While he wasn’t as staunch an atheist as Drake, he certainly didn’t hold a belief in ghosts either.

Rowan had heard his fair share of ghost stories during his shifts at the hospital.

Elevators that dropped to the morgue on their own in the dead of night.

Strange sounds of weeping echoing from the maternity ward after midnight.

Patients who mysteriously passed away every Friday in the same ICU bed.

Empty rooms where alarms and monitors would suddenly blare in unison at the stroke of midnight.

There were countless tales, each more unsettling than the last.

Venus’s face lit up as she reached for the cash. But before she could tuck it away, Drake interjected coolly, “If I remain safe and sound for three days, you get three thousand dollars.”

His tone darkened, a hint of warning lacing his words. “If I fall ill or anything untoward happens to me, you’ll owe me ten times that amount.”

Venus froze mid-motion, her smile evaporating. “So this is how you amassed your fortune, huh?”

Drake’s thin lips curled into a slight grin, his mood visibly lifting. “Smart girl. You’ve earned the title of Mr. Dust’s mentee.”

Venus clamped her mouth shut, feeling an unsettling mix of admiration and wariness.

When he smiled like that, there was something dangerously alluring about him. It was as if she was catching a glimpse of the Drake she once knew, buried beneath layers of cynicism.

Without uttering another word, she snatched the money and dashed away.

Even with cash in hand, Venus was never one to squander a single dime. Her upbringing in poverty had instilled in her a sense of thriftiness. Even as an Oracle Supreme, she managed her finances with meticulous care. Every penny had to serve a purpose.

As she approached the artificial lake, she planned to rest on a bench until morning before seeking shelter.

Upon arriving, she noticed a group of teenage boys loitering around their motorcycles, secretly smoking beneath the flickering streetlights.

Among the sea of blond heads, one stood out strikingly.

“Percy Burn!” she called out, her voice slicing through the night.

Percy jumped at the sound, the lit cigarette slipping from his fingers and searing into his palm.

“Ah—damn it!” he yelped, pain flaring through him.

“Who’s there?!” he shouted, his voice laced with confusion and anger.

Venus stepped out of the shadows, illuminated by the glow of the streetlamp.

When Percy recognized her, his shock morphed into fury.

“You again, you hillbilly? Are you stalking me?” he spat, his words dripping with disdain.

He cursed under his breath, just like old times, and charged straight at her, ready to shove her aside.