Kissed by Ice(53)

I snorted. "You'd be cranky too, if you were in my shoes."

She eyed me carefully. "Problems?"

She didn't need her spirit guides to tell her that. "The usual. We almost had that bastard, Alister, but he's in the wind again. Every time we have a lead, it turns into nothing. Drago's got his people working on it, but…" I shook my head.

"Have you considered scrying for him?"

I could have smacked myself in the head. Scrying had never entered my mind. I didn't know why. I worked for a Witch, after all, but I was used to a more direct approach. "Uh, no. Can you do it?"

She shook her head. "Not my thing. You need a Witch for that. I'm surprised Kabita hasn't suggested it."

I was too, now I thought of it, but then Kabita tended to be pretty low key about witchy stuff. "I'll ask her."

"What else is on your mind?" Cordelia asked, eyes on my face. "Let me guess. Boyfriend problems." Nothing slipped passed her.

I heaved a sigh. "Yeah. Still. I mean, things are better. At least he doesn't openly hate me anymore, but he still acts like I'm some kind of stranger. Cold, you know?"

"This is normal for his condition?"

"I guess." I shrugged. "Tanith says I need to give him time."

"Tanith would know."

I wondered, not for the first time, about Cordelia's relationship with her sister. It wasn't like they hated each other, but more like they were, well, strangers. Not unlike Inigo and me at the moment. Talk about depressing.

"I don't suppose the cards have anything to say on the matter?" I asked. It was what I'd come for, after all.

Cordelia shot me a smile and held out the deck. It was an old one, well worn, with richly colored illustrations in swirling blues and greens. I slid my fingers over the deck, the paper worn smooth from handling, chose three cards, and laid them face-down on the table. She turned the first one over and made a humming sound. She raised her eyebrow as she turned over the second. On turning over the third, she said, "Interesting."

That didn't sound good. "What is it?" I asked.

She tapped the first card with her long, crimson fingernail. "I don't need to tell you much about this card," she said. "It represents the past, and you know what your past with Inigo was."

I nodded. I was painfully aware.

"And this one," she said, tapping the second card. It was the eight of swords. "I don't think I need to tell you about this one, either. Right now you're feeling despair. A lack of hope. You feel trapped, and you don't know what to do."

No shit. I didn't need magic cards to tell me that.

She laid her hand gently on the third card. Three of swords. "This one isn't…great," she said, cautiously. "If you're not careful, you could open yourself up to a lot of pain."

"Too late."

"Now, Morgan," she said, grabbing my hand and giving it a squeeze. "It looks bad, I admit, but there is hope. Yes, if things stay the same, he will break your heart. But you have a choice. There are always choices. There is a way."

A way for what exactly? To be happy? If it meant leaving Inigo, I wasn't sure I was prepared for that. Although I might not have much choice in the matter. You can't make somebody love you again no matter how much you want them to. Sometimes all you can do is let go.

I was about to say something when a sudden gripping on the back of my skull distracted me. Vampire. Close. Like, in the club close. I pulled my hand from Cordelia's. "Thanks, Cordy. I appreciate it. I'll give it some thought." I rose from the table in a rush. "I've got to go."

"Please don't be sad," she said. She stood up and wrapped me in a warm hug. "I promise you. Things are going to come out right. They always do."

I wished I had her faith.





I slipped through the silver curtain back onto the crowded dance floor. Ignoring the press of scantily clad writhing bodies, I pushed my way around the edge of the dance floor. If there really was a vamp in the club, I needed to find it. Fast.

About halfway around the room, that gripping press on the back of my skull intensified. I froze in my tracks. Definitely close. I still couldn't figure out how a vamp had gotten into Fringe. The mysterious owner of the club and his trusty bartender would never allow that. Fringe might freely welcome all supernaturals, but that didn't extend to vamps or anyone else likely to cause trouble. There were wards on the doors to prevent such things from entering. In fact, they were the strongest wards I'd ever seen. Whoever had placed them must be one hell of a Witch. How had a vampire gotten past the wards?

Focusing on the pressure in my head, I stepped cautiously to the left toward the bar. The pressure eased up. Okay, not that direction. I continued my circuit around the room toward the exit at the front of the club. Again, the pressure grew fainter. Right, then. The vamp was somewhere on the right side of the room on the other side of the dance floor.