Hope

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said quietly, not changing position.

As if on cue a woman materialized and took the seat across from me. Of course she didn’t actually materialize; she’d been there the whole time watching and counting right along with me. She was a Shade. Her little magic show probably awed a hell of a lot of bunkos, but I wasn’t impressed. She noticed my lack of enthusiasm and pursed her full, red lips into a pout. As soon as it appeared, the pout was gone and she crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward, showing me a little too much cleavage. It was impressive, yes, but I was just here for a Reading. Whatever other customers may ask for once the curtain was closed was between them and the Reader. I had my own agenda.

“You have the Sight,” she said, thick accent making the words choppy and exotic-sounding. She hadn’t been on this side of a ley line long enough to lose the accent, but long enough to adopt the styles and mannerisms of a native. She watched me with interest, like I was a riddle and she was determined to solve me.

I just shrugged noncommittally. “I get by.”