“Can I get that for you?” She stilled at the unfamiliar voice. He didn’t give her a chance to turn around; she felt him beside her as one graceful hand appeared, picking up the bracelet. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” When she straightened and turned around, she was surprised that she stood almost eye level with him. After hearing the deep voice, she expected him to be tall.
Her second shock came after his fingers brushed her hand. A sharp burst of power scorched her, had her stumbling backward.
“I’ve got you.” He was stronger than he looked. Lean, wiry arms wrapped around her, helped her back on the stool. “Can I get anything for you?”
“My pride.” Claire smiled at his warm laugh. Sitting on the high stool put her at eye level, and he had beautiful brown eyes, with the long, thick lashes most women would kill for. His smooth, shaved head only accentuated them. She looked away before her staring became rude. “Thank you for the hand up. Can I help you find anything?”
“Actually, I came hoping for a tarot lesson. But if you are not up to it—”
“If it’s sitting, I’m good. And the lesson will be free, since you so graciously kept me from becoming better acquainted with my floor. I don’t mean to be rude, after your assistance, but have we met before?”
He shook his head. “Trust me, I’d remember meeting you.”
“I must be thinking of someone else.” But it nagged at the back of her mind. Those eyes—she had seen them before. And not recently, not in the life she created for herself here.
He helped her stand, and the power touched her again—this time like a warm breeze, coiling through her, moving deeper with each breath. It felt—glorious. And her exhaustion fled, leaving behind a strength she hadn’t felt since she couldn’t remember when. “The table is in the back,” she said. “Let me get my deck and I will—”
“We can use mine.” He opened his hand, revealing a palm-sized deck. Overhead light slid off the gilt edges, the gold leaf and raised jewel tone decoration on the face of the top card. Queen of Swords. Claire stared at the deck. She wasn’t wrong about her memory this time. She had seen this deck before, in a different century. His deep, smooth voice broke into her thoughts. “I’ve been insufferably rude, not introducing myself. I am James.” He held out his right hand.
She took it, his grip warm, the power humming through her warmer. “Claire Wiche. One E, no T.”
“As in The Wiche’s Broom? It’s quite catchy. I almost chose your competitor, The Witch’s Way, but the vibe here seemed more—attractive.”
“Agnes—Madam Serena—is a better tarot reader than I am.”
He followed her back to the small table. “I think the ambience will more than compensate.” With every touch, her strength and well-being blossomed. He obviously had some kind of healing talents, like Zach.
Her euphoria flinched at the thought of Zach. She pushed it aside; they were good now, and he should be here any moment. She could hardly wait to show him the deck. It was an incredible specimen. She’d worked with similar decks when she spent a few years in Eastern Europe, hiding from witch hunters. Fools.
Halting, she shook her head, pushing away the memory. She had not thought of her time as a demon, exiled from Hell, not for years. Even Natasha didn’t bring them back—only the shame of what she had done.
Taking a deep breath, she eased away from James, and sat across from him. He laid the deck on the black velvet cloth, his elegant hands on either side. “I would like to try a simple spread, to start. I will warn you in advance—I am quite the novice.”
Claire thought of Mildred, and smiled. “You will not be my only neophyte. Have you laid out a three card spread before?” He nodded. Now that there was distance between them, she felt less drunk on his presence. He was potent. “Good. Let me see you do one now.”
“After you cut the deck.” His smile told her she’d been caught out.
“Excellent. You’re further along than most of my students.” Reaching for the cards, she closed her fingers over them. Heat shot up her arm; instead of dropping the cards, her fingers tightened over them, the heat bringing with it a clarity she had not felt for some time. After cutting the deck, she placed it in front of him, her fingers reluctantly letting go. “Ready.”
“Your question?”
Tapping her chin, she decided to make it an easy one. And general enough for him to read the cards without too much finessing. “What does my future hold?”
He shook his head, a knowing gleam in those rich brown eyes, and shuffled the deck. With an ease she didn’t expect, he laid out the cards, upside down, revealing them one at a time.