No Rest for the Wicked

by Krystal Jane Ruin

  “Excellent.” Her eyes glitter with mischief and wild satisfaction.

  “Make sure you don’t touch it. Leave it on her bed for her to find.”

  “Absolutely. Thank you very much.” She carefully tucks it inside a tiny purse and skips off to a booth that sells foaming bar soaps in the shapes of animals.

  “Interesting,” says a deep, lilting voice from behind me.

  I jump and turn around and find myself staring into Shepard’s dark, dark eyes. What little light there is around us doesn’t reflect in his irises. It sends a wave of gooseflesh up my arms. He’s standing too close, smelling like something furry you would find in the bottom of a dumpster, cold and dead and wet.

  I back away quickly, nearly stumbling on the back of my skirt.

  “Very interesting gift you have.” He locks strong, roughened hands behind his back and drifts away, back into the shadows.

  For someone who dumpster dives mainly at night, by his own admission, he’s not nearly as pale as he should be. He radiates a rather healthy glow from his face and neck and forearms.

  One more stone and I can get out of here.

  I’m going to blame my jumpiness and nerves on this being the day. That’s the only reason why his staring is bothering me more than usual. Unless he is actually staring at me more than usual.

  I’m barreling though the crowd, trying to put as much distance between Shepard and me as possible, when an old woman finds me and slows me down. Her gray strands are pulled back into a bun and pinned with a dozen glittering barrettes shaped like fireflies. She runs a table that sells salads and sandwiches and brownies, some of which are laced with some kind of hallucinogen.

  “Ah, mia cara, you look so tired today.” She pats my cheek with an age-softened hand before pressing some rolled bills into my palm.

  “Oh, I’m all right,” I say. “I feel a lot better than I look.”

  “You look beautiful, as always. I just hope you’re not running yourself too hard.”

  I laugh a little at this. “No danger in that.” I give her a plain pink gift bag with a green stone inside. She’s a repeat customer, so when she insisted I use the ugly pink bags for her curses, I obliged.

  “How soon before damn Dorothy’s garden is full of weeds?” Her voice is strong for her age and full of excitement.

  “Two days.”

  She bounces up and down and pumps the air with a fist in what could only be some kind of celebratory dance. “Fantastic. Oh, before this old mind forgets, I made something for you.” She pulls a wrapped sandwich out of her apron pocket. “Nothing’s in it, I promise, just a thank you for all of your help with damn Dorothy. You’re one of my favorite people, you know.” She reaches out and squeezes my cheek as I take the sandwich.

  “Well, thank you, I’m starving.”

  She beams at me and shuffles back off to her booth.

  I had almost forgotten about Shepard. That is until I turn around and find him watching me from yet another shadowy corner.

  My throat closes up a little as my eyes graze over the shadows. But I don’t see anything out of the ordinary moving around behind him. He waves me over.

  I shake my head and point at my bare wrist. And the truth is, I really do need to be heading back. Time has a strange way of moving too slowly while I’m down here. More than once I’ve miscalculated how long I’ve been away, thinking I’ve been gone for thirty minutes only to return to the crystal shop and find it’s been nearly an hour.

  I don’t look back on my way up to the balcony, but I have a sinking feeling in my gut that he’s watching me. A man by the doors punches in a code and smiles a goodbye as I pass through.

  “Later, Nera,” I call to the receptionist on my way to the moving pathways.

  “Have a great rest of your day, Miss Torabi.” She looks up from whatever she’s doing on her ledger long enough to smile and wave goodbye. “Stay a little longer next time, yes?”

  “I’ll try.” Or not.

  I hurry through the narrow alleyway and pull myself up the ladder faster than normal, still feeling a little jumpy. Back outside under the fresh air and sunlight, I count my money and store it away in a pouch at the bottom of my bag. Nine hundred dollars. Old Francessa’s bills smell of fresh-baked bread, and it brings a smile to my face. I unwrap my sandwich and bring it to my nose before taking a healthy bite. Smells safe. Tastes safe. Not that she’s ever given me something that wasn’t safe.

  I eat it as I head back to the crystal shop and dig my phone out of my bag to check the time. I’m going to be five minutes late. Not too bad.

  With a belly full of salami and cheese and garden veggies on a fresh-baked ciabatta roll, I let my shoulders fall back and relax. A light breeze trails lazily through the air, taking some of the edge off the humidity.

  Stray leaves blow along the sidewalk, mingling with the shade cast by the trees lining the street. I call the cash I’m saving my freedom fund—in the event I ever get out from under my aunt’s roof. My mind returns to the brief hypnotherapy session I had with Renali this morning. What kind of information could I give her that would get her to recommend that the guardianship be lifted? The thought of having to stay another four years with my aunt watching my every move pinches my stomach.

  Of course, that would give me that much more money. I could buy my own place somewhere quiet, maybe in the mountains. I could throw the occasional party for all my friends in the underground. I could set up a booth and work down there.

  For a moment, this brings a smile to my face. Then my thoughts turn to Shepard Ross, and my smile breaks. My insides clench, and I’m momentarily chilled despite the muggy air around me. What does he want? It can’t be a date. He should know better than to think he could tempt anyone to go out with him with his pillaged crap and smelling of garbage. He must want my help with something, but what I can’t imagine.

  My feet suddenly stop on the sidewalk, just a few yards away from the aging brick strip that the crystal shop is in.

  The shadows cast by the trees shift towards me—even though the wind blows the branches in the opposite direction.

  I stare at the spot, and my heart freezes.

  Long shadows, several of them, move along the walls and ceiling. One of them reaches out to me.

  A hard tremor wracks my body. No…I’m imagining things. My hands ball into fists at my sides. I haven’t seen anything move like that in eight years. If it really happened, if I really saw what I think I saw that night, I would have seen it again since then. Wouldn’t I have?

  They are always watching you.

  My mother’s words, meant to be comforting, though they never were.

  The muscles in my throat constrict for a moment, cutting off the flow of air into my lungs. I check the shadows around me. They could be anywhere. A car slides down the street and pulls into the cramped parking area behind the strip.

  Shaking my head, I force my breath and feet to move again. This is stupid. I was a kid, grappling with abilities I didn’t understand and was struggling to get a handle on. Couple that with everyone dying around me. Of course I freaked out. There is no such thing as what I saw that night. Come on. I’m an adult now. Get a grip!

  I pause by the entrance to the crystal shop and look at Renali’s tinted glass door. Curved over the top are the words HYPNOTHERAPY: UNLOCK YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS. Underneath that by the handle is DR. RENALI WILLOX – WALK-INS WELCOME.

  I bite down on my lip as I read the words—words I’ve seen a hundred times. I don’t think I’ve ever really looked at them before.

  Maybe it is time I take it seriously for once. See if anything happens. Face the truth. I don’t know how much I believe in it, but if I can curse someone I’ve never met with nightmares, maybe Renali really can break the blocks around my fear of the past. At least if I give it one honest try, I can prove to myself, and Tessandra, that I am ready to live on my own. And I can find out once and for all if there truly was something watching me from the shadows as a child.
Or still is.

  Chapter Five

  “What is this?” Tessandra corners me on my way back to my hole. She holds up the receipt from my account. “More crystals? You’ve spent nearly your entire paycheck on crystals this month.” She’s been checking up on me again. She must suspect something.

  I barely glance at the receipt and shrug. “So?”

  “So? It’s ridiculous. You’re not saving any money? You’re just spending it all?”

  “I’m saving money.”

  With a heavy sigh, she lowers the receipt and squeezes the large bun on the back of her head. “If I check, will there be money in your accounts?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much?”

  “Enough to cover the two expenses a month you trust me with.”

  The receipt crumbles some in her hand. “And that’s all?”

  “No. God. I’m saving money! There’s a few thousand in there. Do you want me to pull up my account and show you?” As if she can’t do it herself.

  She shakes her head, more in disappointment than anything else. “What are you doing with all of these crystals, Tatum?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  Her dark eyes narrow into slits. “Everything you do is my business.”

  My jaw hardens, and I roll my eyes to the side. Several people still mill around the store. Cari and Milly are in separate corners, leaving Tessandra to man the registers. Unfortunately for me, no one needs to be rung up right now. Gretchen is by the incense, showing a customer the different burners. She throws quick glances in our direction every few seconds, her light eyes wide with concern.

  “I like to look at them,” I say. Like that response will come anywhere close to sufficing.

  “Bull. You’re peddling in the underground again, aren’t you?”

  “No! I haven’t been there in over a year.”

  She folds her arms over her heavily beaded chest and glares at me hard. If looks could turn people to stone…

  Lowering her voice, she says, “I’m not doing this to be cruel or controlling. You need to stop going down there. It’s not safe for someone with your abilities.”

  I start to protest, but she cuts me off.

  “I mean it, Tatum.” Her tone is sharp. “This isn’t a game. I’m not trying to threaten you, but you are not being responsible here.”

  Now she has my attention. My eyes widen slightly and cut back to her face. “You’re not going to lift guardianship, are you? Even if I cooperate with Renali.”

  “Your cooperation with her is only the first step. Being honest with me is the second.” She looks back and forth between my eyes. “How long have you been going back there?”

  My throat tightens. Freedom slips further and further into the recesses of nonexistence. “Six months,” I say, my voice teetering on the edge of inaudible.

  Her face falls and softens at once. “Tatum…” She checks the register over her shoulder to make sure no one is waiting before stepping in closer to me and grasping my shoulders in a tight grip. “Please believe me when I say I am doing this for you. So you don’t make the same mistakes my sister made.”

  Blood rushes into my ears, momentarily dimming her words. Did she say what I think she said? In the very back of my mind, in an unlit corner, I see my mother’s sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling, her hair fanned out around her head, a dark halo of death.

  “Your gifts are unique,” Tessandra continues, close to my face. “The rest of us are dabbling in the spirit world, and with that comes risk. However, your gifts do not expose you to such unless you go around flaunting them in public places, as your mother did. There are things existing in this world that not even I know about. And they are lurking in plain sight everywhere. Especially in places like the underground.”

  The sound of someone placing items on the glass countertop penetrates the thick fog around my ears.

  “Please find your senses, young lady, before someone strips them from you.” Tessandra lets me go and leaves me with an intense warning in her eyes.

  Milly approaches me from the side, a customer trailing two steps behind her. “You have someone waiting for you back there,” she says. “Also, Charlie showed up a couple of minutes ago, so excuse the banging. He claims he’s trying to be quiet, but Kalin has already gone outside twice to yell at him.” She moves past me to a glass case containing pewter wands and crystal balls.

  I don’t know what to do with Tessandra’s words. I never felt like she believed me when I told her what happened that night, even though she always said she did. But the thoughts don’t stay with me long when I see who’s waiting for me by the beaded doorway, pacing the floor, the nervous energy so thick around her I can almost see it.

  Miss thirty-something from Renali’s office this morning stops when I enter.

  It can’t be her. But there are only two other people in the room, and neither of them gives me more than a passing glance.

  “Can I help you?” I know I don’t sound at all as if I mean it.

  Looking down at her rather delicate hands instead of at me, she whispers, “I heard you were the one I needed to see if I wanted answers.”

  I barely hear her over the fans. “Who told you that?” After my conversation with Tessandra, I have to ask. Paranoia slithers up the back of my neck and wraps around my skull like a wet cloak.

  She glances up a mere fraction of an inch. “Dr. Willox.”

  A smile almost touches my lips, but my shoulders remain unrelaxed. Outside of Tessandra, Renali is the only person I know who knows exactly how I conduct business in here. Unlike my aunt, though, she encourages me to embrace it. She says it will unbalance me to ignore it. Still, I’m surprised she sent someone in here so blatantly like this. She knows it’s always a red flag to Tessandra when people ask for me specifically. “Come on.” I move over to my curtain and hold the thick purple fabric aside as I wave her through.

  She gazes cautiously around the room and slides onto the bench. Thin white clouds cover the sun, dimming the interior. I sit down across from her and wait for her to tell me what kind of reading she wants. Or say something. Or blink perhaps.

  The stretching pseudo-silence grates on my nerves. After several seconds of listening to the faint metallic banging outside, I ask, “What do you want?”

  Without saying a word, she pulls a bill out of her front jeans pocket and places it in the center of the table. Twenty dollars.

  I take it and reach into my bag for change.

  “No.” She gives the barest shake of her head. “Keep it.”

  Slowly, I straighten. “Okay.”

  “How do you do it?” Her eyes finally meet mine. Desperation crawls into her voice. “How do you see into the future?”

  I knit my brows together. “How do you mean?”

  “Where does it come from?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know.”

  “But you can do it?”

  “Yes.” Her seriousness is setting me on edge again.

  She blinks rapidly a few times, as if something has flown into her eyes. “Can you see into my memory? Into the past?”

  “I can. Though, that is what most people see the hypnotherapist for. You were in there this morning.”

  Nodding, the woman places her hands flat on the table and takes a deep shaky breath.

  “What do you need help with?” I’m starting to get annoyed. “Why are you here?”

  A strangled sob escapes from her throat, but her eyes, thankfully, remain dry. “Dr. Willox couldn’t help me,” she whispers. “I remember everything. I was hoping she could help me forget, but she said that isn’t how it works.”

  I glance at the basket of crystals behind me. But Renali wouldn’t send someone in here for that, given how much Tessandra frowns upon on it.

  A dry sniff sounds across the table. “My husband…” Her words are slow and measured, carefully chosen. “He died in his sleep a few days ago.” Her voice breaks.

&
nbsp; “I don’t—”

  “Can you look and tell me what happened?”

  “But you said you remembered what happened.”

  She nods. “Please. I need someone else to see it, so they can tell me what to do. Someone who can see if they’re coming back for me.”

  Something about what she says sends cold blood rushing through my veins.

  She lifts a trembling hand. “Do you need to see my hand?”

  I don’t, but I grab hold of it anyway and stare into her eyes, light blue like the sky outside, but it feels like it’s close to night in here right now.

  Her face melts out of view. I press into the past, what did she say, a few days? Nighttime.

  Her husband, a man around her own age, sits upright in bed, reading a business article on the laptop propped up against his knees. He has dark stubble across round cheeks. He’s very soft. Soft arms, soft belly. And he needs some sun. He has the pallor of someone who spends the bulk of the day indoors.

  His wife is across the room, rubbing lotion on her arms, lost in thought.

  He closes the laptop and sets it on the floor against his nightstand. “They may be sending me to Abu Dhabi for a week in November.” A wide grin stretches over his face. “Do you want to come with me?”

  The woman, Evangeline, smiles, though not sincerely, and climbs into the other side of the large bed. “Can you bring me?”

  “I can if you can get off work.”

  She pauses to think. “I’ll sleep on it.”

  Disappointment ripples across his face, but he nods. “Sure. I’ll bug you about it again in the morning.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The lights go off in the room, and they settle down in bed, several inches apart. He closes his eyes, but hers remain open, staring up at the ceiling, her face twisted with worry.

  A solid thump, followed by a shattering sound, like something heavy tumbling off of a table and breaking, comes from down the hall.

  The woman jumps up and looks over at her husband. He doesn’t stir, and his chest rises and falls gently with sleep.

  Her face softens for a moment before she slides out from under the covers and paddles from the room. A lamp has fallen off an end table in the living room, and the bulb has shattered against the carpet.