Amber pretended to check her watch. “I’ve got time.”
“It’s um…” I twisted my paper napkin in my hands. “Sort of private. Let’s just say things didn’t end great but we’re still friends. Sort of. I mean, we’re trying…”
“Jane has a boyfriend anyway,” Ava said. “At UGA. He’s a musician.”
Amber nodded. “Ah, right. A musician. Still… that Connor. I’d like to climb him like a tree. Is he single?”
Ava and I looked at one another. She answered for me. “No clue.”
“Hmm…” she mused. “Maybe I’ll take a shot then.”
“Ha, go for it,” I said, noticing the napkin was now a pile of shredded paper. I gathered them up and smashed them into a pile.
“So, how’s the project going?” Ava deflected. We all had the first in a series of big projects due in two weeks. I had a feeling tonight was going to be my first infamous all-nighter at the studio.
“I’m pretty close,” Amber said. She majored in fashion design, which is really big here. Ava and I both applied to the Fine Arts program. “I managed to get some decent studio hours slots though.”
A bird cawed overhead. I lifted my head just in time to see a pair of black wings soar over the building. His wings shined in the sunlight, ebony and slick. I pointed upward, but when I glanced back down Ava and Amber were leaning close to one another in deep conversation. The gap in their shoulders revealed Connor several tables over with friends. His eyes were cast toward the sky and the black bird.
“Speak of the devil,” Amber said, following my gaze.
“You ready?” Ava asked, tossing her napkin down.
“Yes,” I said, adding a silent thank you. We paid at the cashier so there was no need to wait for a check. “I need to go back and get my stuff, plus some caffeine and I’ll be ready.”
“You going to introduce me?” Amber asked, looking back at Connor’s table. His eyes flicked to mine and he smiled, but only for a second. Two other guys sat with him, one with square glasses and a stocking cap on even though it was 80 degrees out.
“Not tonight,” I laughed. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance.”
“I better,” she pouted, her eyes lingering in his direction.
We paid and separated at the front door, Amber needed to go down to her building and we had to go back to the dorm. Once we had enough distance between us, I grabbed Ava’s arm and whispered, “I am not okay with Amber hitting on Connor, okay? I mean he can date people, obviously, but not someone so close by. That’s too much.”
“Gotcha,” she said seriously. “I will not allow that to happen. Best friend promise.”
“Good, because if I walked into him leaving her room in the middle of the night or something like that I’d have to kill her. And I’d really hate to kill her and then be haunted by her ghost for the rest of my life. Surviving one jilted girlfriend of Connor’s was enough.”
We both laughed, but she knew I was serious. I had a boyfriend, who happened to be a friend of Connor’s. Was that fair? Hell no. Did I care?
Nope.
*
We took a short cut on the way back. Well, Amber said it was a short cut. It was basically an alley behind the buildings.
“If we cut through next to the psychic we’ll come out closer to campus,” Amber said.
“Psychic?” Ava asked.
Amber nodded. “Yeah, there’s a psychic down here. Madam Rosie or something. We should go sometime, for kicks.”
Ava and I snuck a glance at one another and followed Amber down the road. After passing a dry cleaner and an upholstery shop, we saw the small basement storefront. It was complete with a neon sign in the shape of hand. Madam Rosemarie’s name had been painted boldly across the glass. The “O” was in the shape of an eye.
“Do you want to go in?” Ava asked me.
“Think we should?”
“You guys have fun,” Amber said, checking her watch. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye,” we both said and she walked off alone.
“Okay, let’s go in and see if she’s available. But don’t tell her anything. I want to see if she’s legit.”
“Jeannie said she was,” I pointed out. “I don’t think she’d send me to a hack.”
“Still, it will be interesting to see what she knows, right?”
I nodded and pushed the door open. Ava followed me in and it was clear that Madam Rosemarie, or Nina, wanted to present the stereotypical psychic parlor. The scent of incense and mystical music assaulted my senses. I took in the heavy batik fabric draped across the walls and colorful jars and crystals that lined the long row of shelves against the walls. We stepped up to the counter, which doubled as a display case for handmade jewelry.
“Wow,” Ava mouthed, absorbing everything in the room. I touched a shiny dragonfly orb hanging over our heads with my finger, it bobbed back and forth.
“I’ll be right out,” a voice called.
I noticed a sign on the counter that said, “Savannah Ghost Tours,” with a list of prices.
“I could make a fortune off of that,” I snorted.
“Be cool,” Ava told me, unnecessarily. I lied every day of my life. I should be able to handle a psychic. Unless, of course, she’s real. Then I’m screwed.
The curtain separating our room from another was pushed aside and a woman with curly red hair stepped out. Real red, not from the bottle. Despite the cliché parlor, she’s got a much hipper look, a grey long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans. She’s pretty and a little younger than Jeannie. I wonder if they met at some sort of psychic convention or something. Do they have those?
“Hi, what can I do for you today?”
“We wanted to ask about getting a reading – like palm or cards or something.”
“A basic palm reading is $28. Cards are $15. I can do both for $40.” She looked at Ava expectantly, but I noticed her eyes narrowing slightly when she looked at me. “Love problems?”
“No,” I said.
“Who doesn’t have love problems?” Ava said, nudging me forward. “Rachel has had some drama lately and really needs insight.”
I shoot daggers at Ava for tossing me under the cosmic bus, but I smiled nicely at Rosemarie. She grinned in return. Whatever. “Do you take debit cards?”
“Yep. You want to me to do it alone or are you okay if your friend watches?”
“She can watch,” I said, like I had any choice. “Just a palm reading. I’ll do the cards another day.”
We moved across the room to a cushy, red velvet couch. Ava and I sat next to one another while Rosemarie sat across from us in a black wicker chair.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” she said, holding her hand out. Reluctantly, I placed mine into hers. Jeannie had read my palm a dozen times. If this woman was real, then exposing myself to her could be dangerous.
She started off with the basics, pointing out the lines on my hand. All standard stuff anyone can do. Her hands felt cool and soft and I found myself lulled by her words and the stuffy, perfumed room.
“You’re very talented. Very creative. You’ll do well in art school.” Picking up on my art school status was pretty easy, it wasn’t like she needed a gift to figure that out. Pretty much every college-age kid in town went to SCAD. “You have a strong connection to your family.” She smiled.
“Yeah,” I said, remaining neutral.
She moved her fingers across my palm. “This line here suggests that you’ve seen a fair amount of sadness in your life?” It was a question not a statement.
I gave a short nod and Rosemarie continued. “And loss. You’ve lost several people… but,” she paused and frowned, “not people close to you.”
She looked up from my hand and studied me again. I shifted my eyes to the table, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. “Darkness follows you for sure, but I’m seeing some other things…” she narrowed her eyes. “There’s a double ring – no triple, around your aura. It’s so strong. Not
everyone has a strong aura and I can’t always read it, but yours is off the charts.”
“What’s the triple ring?” Ava asked.
“Well, there’s the basic ring, which for you is pretty dark. I’m not trying to scare you, it’s not a bad thing,” she lied. I would lie also. No one wanted to hear they were surrounded by a shroud of death. “But it has this other color attached to it – a grayish purple. I’m not sure, but I think the second ring will give you strength. You’re not alone.”
“What about the other one?” Ava asked.
“Red. It’s faint though. Barely there. There are implications of danger with that one.” Her hand twisted my fingers. Was she nervous? “It seems to be some sort of negative energy.”
“Connor,” Ava said. “No, wait. Louis. Obviously Connor would be the ring of danger.”
“Ava,” I warned, before addressing Rosemarie again. “Does it say anything about relationships or anything?”
She smoothed my fingers flat, but I saw her eyes flicking back and forth to my aura. “Well, there is a lot of love surrounding you. But it comes from different directions and people with different needs. You’ll need to be careful that the love you seek is true and isn’t disguised as something else.”
“Well, that’s vague,” Ava declared.
I barely registered that Rosemarie didn’t respond. I was lost in my own thoughts about how everything with Connor had always been disguised as something else. Drugs or lies. Ghosts and confusion. Nothing between us had ever been level.
“The good news,” Rosemarie said, “is that you have a lot of support. See all these tiny lines? Each one represents someone trying to assist you. I’ll admit I see varying degrees of trouble coming your way, but you’ll be okay. You have a lot of back up.”
She sort of pushed my hand back in my direction and I removed it from hers. Her eyes stayed glued to the area around my body – something that confirmed to me that her gifts were legit.
“Can I do something?” Rosemarie asked.
“Um, sure?”
She pulled out a set of oversized, thick cards. Tarot. “I want to do a reading.”
“No, that’s okay.” Swindler. I should’ve known she’d try to scam me.
“Free,” she said. “I’m curious.”
Ava shot me a look and I waited while Rosemarie dealt the cards, one by one. I knew a little about tarot. Jeannie had a deck she’d painted herself. The first card was the Ace of Wands. “Courage,” she said, eyes focused on the deck. She flipped over the next one and said, “Ace of Cups – that one’s for trust.”
“Oh boy,” Ava muttered.
She laid out the final three and I was unsurprised to see the horns of the devil, the five of swords upside down and two of cups. She and I made eye contact. Ava looked between us and asked. “What do those mean?”
Rosemarie tapped her fingers on each card and traced the long lines of the grey-silver swords. Three lie on the floor, while two point to the sky. “The swords represent a betrayal. And the cups signify a relationship.”
“And that one? The nasty looking thing?” she asked.
“The devil,” I said, turning away from the disturbing image. Bat-like wings protrude out of his back, implying he sucks the life out of his prey. “He represents evil.”
“Perfect.” Ava said, rolling her eyes.
“It can come in many forms. He represents fears, addictions and harmful impulses,” Rosemarie said.
“Well, at least you didn’t get the death card,” Ava said.
I didn’t like the small crease between Rosemarie’s eyes. Something bothered her. Something she wasn’t telling me. I could only assume it was in reaction to the huge cloud of black swirling around me.
Ready to leave, I stood and handed over my debit card. Ava and I refrained from making eye contact or saying much at all. I was ready to leave. Rosemarie hadn’t said anything scary, but she’d hit the target enough to make me uneasy.
“Come back anytime,” she said with a smile, handing me my receipt. She reached for Ava’s hand and turned her palm downward. She ran her thumb over the top of the silver orb wrapped around her middle finger. “I love your ring.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“We should go, studio time and everything,” I said.
Ava removed her hand and turned to the door. I moved to follow her but Rosemarie gripped my upper arm and said in a low voice, “Be careful. The shadows around you are heavy and not of this world. I don’t know what you’re doing but watch yourself.”
I stared at her for a moment but jerked away, following Ava out of the building.
“Well, what did you think?” she asked. We turned the corner, rushing back to the dorm.
I caught my breath at the bottom of the dorm steps and said, “I think that she could be a good ally if something comes up, but otherwise it’s like someone undressing you with their mind. Don’t make me do that again.”
Ava laughed, but I didn’t.
“Ever.”
Chapter 8
College life took over. Class, sleep, eat, studio, class, eat, sleep, studio. Wash, rinse and repeat. By late September, the structured rhythm made things easier and the homesickness less. When we did have breaks, Ava and I often roamed our new city, embracing the independence.
“Can we go in? I’m looking for a gift for my mom,” Ava said, stopping in front of an art gallery.
“Sure.”
It was more than a gallery – a co-op for the students to sell their artwork and earn some extra cash. I followed Ava into the brightly lit shop.
“Jane!”
I spun and saw Tony, the boy from the party a couple weeks ago, behind the counter. “Hey! You work here?”
“Yeah, part of my scholarship. I have to work 10 hours a week. The perk is that they accepted my artwork.”
“Will you show it to me?” I surveyed the room and tried to determine what might be his. Nothing popped out, but he led me to a series of canvases on the wall. The first one was a small blond boy holding a toy rocket ship. A perfect snapshot in time. I looked closer and saw tiny, almost imperceptible brush strokes. “Wait, these are paintings?”
“Yes.”
“They look like photographs.”
“I try to capture the realism.”
“Try?” I studied another one. It looked just like a photo. Tony’s level of skill was at a whole other level than anything I’d seen before. “You totally succeeded. These are amazing.”
“Thanks. I don’t sell a lot because they’re priced high.”
“They should be. I can’t imagine how long each one takes to create.”
“I’m faster than you’d think.” He smiled. “Oh, customer, be right back.”
Ava browsed across the store, checking out the smaller gift items. I couldn’t take my eyes of Tony’s work. I’d never seen anything like it. One was of a girl’s feet, as though she was lying on the ground. Her big toe had a chip in the blue polish. A slash of dirt marred white skin on the top of her foot. Imperfectly perfect.
“Why art school?” I asked when he came back over. “Shouldn’t you be up in New York pursuing the dream?”
He shrugged. “I promised my dad I’d go to college. He never went and it’s sort of a big deal for him.”
“That makes sense.”
“Luckily, he works here – got the job when I first showed an interest in art as a kid. I get a discount on top of the scholarship. Otherwise, I don’t think we could afford it.”
“That’s really nice.”
“Yeah, Pop’s a cool dude. Oh,” he said, “I have a gallery show coming up in February. Will you come?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m terrified no one will show up!”
“Unlikely.”
Ava walked up and held out two different handmade fabrics. “Which do you like best?”
“Blue.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“Did you see Tony’s stuff?” I pointed to his artwork
once he walked off to help someone on the other side of the gallery. Ava glanced over and then did a double take, her eyes bigger than normal behind her glasses.
“Wow, are you kidding? This stuff is incredible.” She walked closer and held out her hand to touch it but stopped herself. Touching paintings was a big no-no and Ava knew better. “It looks so real.”
“Like a photograph.”
“It makes me feel so ridiculously inferior.”
“Right? Me, too,” I agreed. “Feeling less than is an emotion I’ve become increasingly familiar with.”
“Maybe I can see your work sometime,” Tony said, ringing up Ava’s purchases.
“Maybe,” I said. “I’d feel sort of weird. Your stuff is really good.”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Jane’s being modest. She’s been using a lot of found materials lately. And the color red. Red. Red. Red.”
“I like red, okay? Picasso had his blue period. I’m in my red one.” I stuck out my tongue. “My personal stuff is okay, I guess. But sculpture? That class is killing me,” I laughed. “Trying new classes is more complicated than I thought.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Tony said, handing Ava her package. “That’s the one thing I’ve learned lately. Reach inside and you can find your inner creative strength – draw on that energy and follow the path it leads you on.”
We left Tony and headed back in the direction of the dorm. “What do you think about Tony’s little speech? Seems a little out there.”
I shrugged, “I guess I know what he means. Like Jeannie using her gift in her artwork – incorporating her premonitions and readings. Or Connor and his tagging. It always ties back to what’s going on in his life. It’s like a roadmap to his psyche.”
“So what does that mean about you?” she asked. “Madam Rosemarie did mention a red aura. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
I shrugged but I knew the answer to this, or suspected at least. Unfortunately, it led to a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to travel down yet. At least not with anyone but Evan.
Chapter 9
The next Sunday, I exited my dorm and found Connor waiting for me in shorts and running shoes. I brushed past him without speaking and started my route. He followed, easily catching up to my pace. Side by side, we jogged through the city.
Grave Possession (Wraith 3) Page 5
