by Allie Gail
Feeling a little foolish, I hastily pat each card. This is so silly. I feel like I'm part of some second-rate magician's act. Why didn't I just keep walking? I am the world's biggest sucker. I could be conned into buying curtains for a windowless house.
Nodding, Sonia flips over the first three cards. She seems to be concentrating on them very hard, while all I see are some fanciful pictures.
“Ah...is as I expected,” she clucks knowingly. “You feel powerless in your situation; you struggle, yet are determined to pursue your goals. Yes, with your aura it makes sense.”
That's pretty vague. So far I'm not impressed.
Next, she turns over the three cards on the right and studies them carefully. “Hm. Strange combination. Hanged Man indicates enlightenment; Star brings hope and rejuvenation. Yet Death represents change, loss, or an end to something. This could mean a great many things. I see as positive, though. Loss will bring about change, but it will be for better. End can sometimes be beginning.”
She gives each of us a sober look before slowly turning over the last card. Then she is all smiles, and I am just susceptible enough to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Is good omen for you! Sun card represents happiness, success. Love! This means all will be well in the end. You have happy life in your future!”
I smile politely, as if I am pleased with the outcome. Secretly, I think it's all a load of horse hockey. Do people actually give credence to this sort of thing? I can't imagine.
Scooping up the cards, Sonia puts them aside and holds one arm outstretched on the table in front of Loc. “Give me your hand,” she demands. “Let me see what I can see.”
Hm, I think, trying not to giggle. This oughta be good.
We exchange a quick look as he dutifully takes her hand. I have to give credit for his restraint. His lips are pressed together in an effort not to laugh, and I hate to say it, but I know how he feels. The poor woman is like a movie caricature, and what makes it even funnier is that she's so serious about all this. Does she really think nobody can tell that her accent is fake as a can of Cheez Whiz?
What is she going for, anyway? Greek? Romanian? Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle? It's so bad, I honestly can't tell.
Closing her eyes, she sits completely motionless for quite some time. So long that I'm beginning to notice how very quiet it is in here. I can hear the rhythmic sound of ticking coming from somewhere, and for lack of anything better to do I scan the shop in an effort to locate the source. I finally spy it, situated on a shelf between two silver chalices. A little antique brass mantel clock.
Tick tick tick tick tick tick...
I'm starting to suspect that she may have fallen asleep, when the green eyes fly open abruptly.
“Nothing,” she concedes with a heavy sigh. “You are difficult man to read. Very self-contained you are, yes?”
“So I'm told.” Loc smiles furtively.
“Well, such is life, yes? Our fates, they are not always clear. I try your lovely lady. Have better luck with her.” The bracelets clack against the table as she offers me a hand, palm up, fingers wiggling impatiently. “Come, come. I tell your future. You like.”
Curious to see what will happen next, I do as she asks. Her skin is paper-thin, cool and soft to the touch, but her grip is not nearly as fragile as I expected. She is surprisingly strong for such a frail little thing. Maybe she isn't as old as I originally thought.
My eyes stray once again to the brass clock as I wait for her to finish with whatever it is she's doing. Should I purchase something just to be polite? Maybe that's her angle. Reel them in with a free reading, then throw out the subtle suggestion that you buy something. Crafty, but ultimately pretty ingenious.
I'm idly wondering if I should tip her the twenty dollars I have folded in my pocket when she speaks.
“There is something...” Her voice sounds strained. “I cannot see. Too much darkness. Soon, something comes. Very soon. Is not good, I fear.”
Wait, what? That's not what she said a minute ago. Is this part of the act? Pretend she's having trouble with her precognition in order to seem more authentic, then pull out the dramatics later?
Beside me, Loc rubs my thigh provocatively, and I flash him a grin before returning my attention to Sonia. She is very absorbed in her task. Her eyes are screwed shut, and her brow is furrowed in deep concentration.
“So cold,” she murmurs. “So dark. I think...I think I see...”
Is it my imagination, or is her hand growing colder in mine? Her fingers are starting to feel like ice. Maybe she has poor circulation.
“I see...I...I see...”
What? What do you see? I wish she'd cut the theatrics and just tell me. This is turning out to be a total waste of time. We should've gone to see the train depot instead. Even if it was closed, it still would've been more interesting than this.
Quite suddenly, her hand is snatched from mine, and the woman springs to her feet so quickly that her chair topples over backward. The sound cracks and reverberates, startling me. What on earth...?
Her eyes are wide, blazing with fear and fury as she points a crooked finger at me accusingly. “You goddamn little fool! What have you done? Are you stark raving mad – you'll be the death of us all! Do you realize that? You'll be the death of us all! You idiot!”
I am so shocked by her outburst that it takes a moment for it to sink in that she's completely dropped the fake accent. Her voice, even through the yelling, now sounds as mainstream midwestern as my own.
She backs away slowly, her face scrunching as she carries on with her diatribe. “Don't listen to him! You hear me? He's the king of lies, that one right there! Goddamn bastard will tear your soul apart! Yours, mine, all of us – you hear me, girl? Don't fall for his bullshit! Don't be that stupid! You'll send us all straight to Hell – better yet, you'll bring Hell straight to us! Is that what you want? IS IT?”
Speechless, I turn my face to gaze helplessly at Loc.
He is staring at her with an icy expression, though weirdly calm considering the circumstances. Sliding his chair back, he rises and serenely reaches for my hand. “I think it's best that we leave now, Jude.”
I stumble to my feet, not quite as gracefully, eyes still glued to the woman. How much does she know? It's too much of a coincidence to assume that her flipping out like this is part of the routine. What if none of it was an act? What if she's really and truly clairvoyant?
“M-maybe we should call someone,” I flounder. My heart is pounding. I am awash with dread, torn between the fear that she is suffering some kind of mental breakdown, and the even more frightening prospect that she is not.
Insanity, in this case, would be far less ghastly than the alternative.
“She'll be fine. Let's go, love.” Draping a casual arm across my shoulders, Loc guides me toward the door. His cool composure is disconcerting. How is he so unruffled by all this?
Behind us, Sonia is still unleashing her tirade, and I can't help but look back over my shoulder at her. So tiny, so colorful, she is like an angry little kingfisher. I feel sorry for her, regretful that our presence has upset her so.
Regretful, and afraid. What does she know? What was it she saw?
Her voice is shrill, piercing. “You listen to me! You're keeping company with the devil himself, do you know that? The devil himself! You better run, child, and run fast! Leave this...this...” Crossing herself, she spits at her feet before screeching, “...demon!”
My insides clench and my teeth chatter together. I feel sick.
Loc is muttering underneath his breath as we head out into the night. The only word I can make out for sure is crackpot. The black SUV is pulled alongside the curb, waiting for us. How did Silas know? How does everyone else seem to know everything, and I am the only one left in the dark?
I am shaking all over. It doesn't help that I can still hear her frantic voice, lashing through the cold air like the sting of a bullwhip. She doesn't follow us outside. I can see her throu
gh the plate glass window, clutching something small to her chest. I can't see what she's holding, but I suspect that whatever it is, she believes it will protect her.
On the sidewalk, a few people stop and stare.
“The eve of destruction is approaching,” she wails, sounding more like a madwoman than ever. A fact that shouldn't comfort me, and yet it does. I want her to be crazy. I want her to be delusional. Anything else is too terrible to accept. “Can you hear it? Listen! It's coming! Hell will rain down from Heaven, rain down its fury on all of us, and there will be no safe place, no safe place to hide...”
The car door slams shut behind us, and we drive away in merciful silence.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I've already told you, Judith. It's a crock of shit. All of it. The woman's a scam artist. How can you take any of that crap seriously? She was just trying to scare you.”
I'm sitting cross-legged on the bed, rehashing what happened in town with Loc, who doesn't seem to understand why I am so freaked out.
“Why?” I demand, desperate for a logical explanation. “Why would she want to scare me? That makes absolutely zero sense! She doesn't even know me!”
“Why? So you'll go back to her, of course! Bringing your wallet, checkbook and several major credit cards. Why do you think?”
I'm not buying it. “She knew you were a demon, Loc. She knew. How are you going to explain that one?”
“Oh, for Christ's sake. What's to explain? Your brother is able to detect anomalies – does that mean he can foretell the future?”
“No, but he wasn't-”
“You didn't think he was the only one, did you? I mean, I know dear brother likes to think of himself as special, but it really isn't that difficult if you know what to look for.”
My eyes narrow. I wish he'd leave Russ out of this. “Then how come she couldn't tell from the start? She didn't know at first. Only after she took my hand, then she saw it!”
“She didn't see anything. You act as if you believe she was really having some kind of vision or something.” The way he's looking at me, you'd think I was trying to convince him Bigfoot was outside throwing rocks at the front door. “Once she recognized me for a cambion, if that is even what occurred, then all she did was use it to her advantage. Can you honestly sit there and tell me it never once crossed your mind that she was a fraud? I saw you trying not to laugh. You didn't believe her then. Why would you believe her now?”
“Because!” I heave a sigh of frustration. Part of what he's saying makes sense, I admit that, but the whole scenario still isn't adding up for me. There are variables that haven't been factored in and they're throwing the whole balance off. “She seemed so sincere. The woman was afraid. Really afraid, and I know she wasn't faking that. There's no way. No one's that good an actor.”
“I'm not saying she wasn't afraid. Once she realized what I was, I have no doubt she was afraid. But Jude, she wasn't foretelling the future. She was...I think she was panicking. Seeing that I wasn't fully human, she went a little off her rocker. Fear makes people do crazy things. They don't always act rationally.”
I lean back on my arms, eyeing him dubiously. “The things she said-”
“Were lies,” he firmly insists. “Which she couldn't even keep straight, if you'll recall. Like when she was reading the cards and predicted a future of sunshine and rainbows and happy little unicorns. What happened with that? Five minutes later she's switching it up and it's all darkness and despair and bloody fucking Armageddon. Hell, even her accent was a lie! There wasn't a thing about that woman that wasn't phony as a three-dollar bill and if you'll just stop for one second and think about it, you'll know that I'm right!”
I bite my lip while considering the point he's made. Okay, so he is right to an extent. I mean, I'm not a complete idiot – I could tell that Sonia's whole schtick was just a marketing ploy. A cheesy, overtheatrical performance for potential customers. Of course it was all an act.
Until it wasn't.
Until she saw something that shook her into breaking character.
But if she was a fake to begin with, then how could she have seen anything at all?
“I still don't get why she was so afraid,” I muse, still torn over what to believe. “If she didn't really have a vision, if there was nothing to be scared of, then why did she get herself all worked up that way? It was...weird.”
“These artistic types, they tend to be very melodramatic.” Smiling to himself, Loc raises a hand and my eyes are instantly drawn to something twisted around his arm and wrist. Something long and striped and vividly colored. “Isn't that right?” he croons to his hand.
Oh my God, is that-
Agh! It IS!
I nearly leap into the ceiling fan when I see that what he's holding is a snake – yes, a snake – a scaly serpent with a flickering tongue and beady little eyes, though where it materialized from I haven't a clue. It's coiled around Loc's forearm, all reddish-orange with a shiny black head and bands resembling that of a coral snake.
Now I'm no expert or anything, but I'm almost positive those things are supposed to be venomous. Deadly, even.
Yelping a scream, I launch myself off the bed and make a beeline for the bathroom, preparing to barricade myself in there if need be. “Ugh!” I take cover in the relative safety of the doorway, hugging myself with both arms while shuddering in disgust. “Holy shit, Loc! Fuck me! What the hell are you doing with that thing?”
He watches me in placid amusement. “It isn't a thing, darling. It's a reptile. To be more specific, it's a species of king snake more commonly known as a garden variety milk snake.”
“I don't care if it's a hot fudge sundae snake with a solid gold cherry on top! Where did it come from?” And how fast can it get back there? Garden variety my ass! I'd hate to see what kind of garden he's talking about.
“It isn't venomous, you know. This little guy here is perfectly harmless.”
“Oh? Harmless, huh? Tell that to the person who finds me running through the woods after I dive out the window!” Little guy – whatever! That thing has to be at least three feet long. I hope he doesn't think I'm sharing this room with a freaking snake. On a scale of one to hell no, they rate up there with hornets and palmetto bugs and fat hairy spiders.
“Come on. Just touch him. He won't bite, I promise.”
“Did you seriously just ask me to touch your snake?” Yes, I know it's juvenile, but I can't stop myself from snorting a hysterical giggle.
“Mm-hm. You can even kiss him if you like.” Eyes twinkling with mischief, Loc lifts the serpent and brushes his lips against the glistening black head.
“Dude...” I hope he realizes I am never kissing him again. Ever. “Do you and the snake want to get a room?”
“Come over here and have a closer look.”
“No, thanks! I'm fine way over here. As a matter of fact, if anyone needs me, I'll be sleeping in the bathtub tonight. Or possibly the roof.”
“But this just proves my point, don't you see? You're afraid of it simply because of what it is. Never mind that it won't hurt you. That it couldn't hurt you even if it wanted to. You're still afraid.”
“I don't know what point you're trying to make, other than to gross me out.”
“The point I'm trying to make, you stubborn girl, is that Sonia lost her head because of what she believed me to be. Not because she had some extrasensory revelation. Not because she could foretell the future, which, I might add, is not even possible. She was afraid and reacted irrationally because of this fear. Much as you are doing now.”
I glare at him without saying a word. Dammit, doesn't he ever get tired of being right all the time?
Smirking, he gives his wrist a little flick, and the snake that was there a moment ago is gone in the next, vanishing as if it never existed. “Are you planning to cower in the bathroom all night?”
“That depends. Where did it go?”
“Same place it came from
. Nowhere.”
“Right.” I'm still searching the floor for any hint of slithery movement. “I'm gonna need like, a trajectory or something.”
“It isn't here. It never was.”
Warily, I raise my eyes to meet his. “Another illusion?”
“That's all it was.”
“I really, really don't like it when you do that.”
“Then I won't do it.” He begins to unbutton his shirt, in that slow, languid way that never fails to hypnotize. “Come to bed with me.”
I hesitate, wavering, still more rattled by the evening's events than I care to admit. “You were just touching a snake,” I hedge. “I'm not coming near you until you wash your hands. A lot.”
“I wasn't touching anything. What you saw wasn't real. I've already told you that.” The shirt glides down his muscular arms, landing in a careless heap on the floor. “And now I'm tired of talking. I want to fuck. So let's stop wasting time and get to it, shall we?”
His blasé tone is the same as if he'd just announced that he wants to watch the evening news.
“Just what every girl wants to hear.” I purse my lips, glaring at him while mimicking his deep voice. “'Hey baby, I'm totally down to fuck. How 'bout you?'”
One corner of his mouth tugs upward. “I never said hey baby.”
“Oh! Well. I stand corrected, don't I? You're the crown prince of romance.”
“You want romance?” His long legs bring him over to where I'm standing in just a few quick strides, and I gasp in surprise when he sweeps me up as if I weighed no more than a rag doll. Brushing his lips against my temple, he quietly assures me, “I can do romance.”
“What do you think you're doing?”
