“Your past—The Tower, upright. You’ve had a turbulent one.” Claire smiled at him when he looked at her, obviously waiting for a comment.
“The next card, please.”
“All right then, moving on.” He turned over the second card. “Your present—Justice, upright. Another Major Arcana. Interesting. Looks like you are on the edge of an important decision.”
She clutched the sides of the chair, out of his sight. That was too close; the cards never read for her. What was so different about this deck?
“And now for your future.” James turned over the third card, and her heart skipped. “Ah, The Empress, upright. There is a family in your future, perhaps a child?” The accent touched his voice again. British, high society British. “Looks like your future is going to be eventful. May I?” He held out his hand. “I do a bit of palm reading.”
Claire laid her hand in his, despite her. More warmth spread through her, wrapped around her soul, finding that dark, almost forgotten part of her. She took in a deep breath, the last of her weakness gone, and smiled at him.
*
Zach came in through the back door, not wanting to bring food through the shop, in case there were customers. He looked down at his haul, and shook his head. Even for him, this was quite a sizable snack.
Munching on the last bite of his first breakfast burrito, he nearly choked when Marcus bolted through the back door.
“Where is she?” Before Zach could answer Marcus grabbed him, those weird green and gold eyes almost solid gold. “Where is Claire?”
Zach managed to swallow while Marcus manhandled him. “Out front—what?” He hadn’t seen Marcus look this freaked out since Mom—
Since Mom died. He’d never forget those endless minutes, before the spell broke the curse that held her, brought her back.
“She is different—can you not sense it?”
Zach let him go, touched the amethyst pendant he wore. The pendant Mom gave him before he fell, and became human. “No—there’s nothing—”
“I’ve felt this before.” Moving past Zach, he muttered under his breath. “Gods, please let me be wrong.”
Spooked, Zach followed him into the shop, and found Mom, sitting at the table with a stranger. She looked fine. Until she laughed.
The sound of it clawed at him, sharp bursts of pain that raked his soul.
Marcus let out a low growl and jerked the man out of the chair. “Get out. Return and I will destroy you with my bare hands.”
“Marcus!” Mom practically leapt across the table, reaching for the man. She looked—wrong. “He has done nothing. Take your hands off him—”
“You will leave,” Marcus said, like Mom wasn’t even there, or clawing at him like an angry cat. “Are we understood?”
The man nodded, backing away when Marcus let him go. “I’m sorry. I only wanted a tarot lesson. My cards?” He inched forward, scooped them off the table, and sidestepped toward the front door, never taking his gaze off Marcus. “I’m sorry, Claire.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Mom screeched at Marcus. She never screeched. She hardly ever raised her voice. But now she looked like a maniac, pounding on Marcus like he took away her toy. “He was reading my future—and you are not part of it!”
She slapped him—so hard his head snapped sideways. He calmly took her by the wrists and held on. Zach realized what was different about her. A strange, silver light edged her normally soft blue eyes. Memory scratched at him, like he should know what that meant. Her struggle to free herself turned manic, and scared Zach more than the physical change.
“Mom?” His whisper stilled her. She turned her head, those silver blue eyes staring at him like she’d never seen him before.
Her upper lip curled, and she let out a low snarl. With a bone-breaking jerk she freed herself from Marcus and leapt at Zach.
He backpedaled, but not fast enough. They crashed to the floor, her clawed hands going straight for his eyes. He threw his left arm up to protect his face, and her nails dug into his forearm. Beyond the shock of pain he heard her low, harsh whisper.
“You turned your back on us, let us be exiled.” She spoke the Latin of the ancients, tearing at his skin with every word, wild and barely human. “I paid for my brother’s pride, paid in centuries of anguish. You have no right to judge me—no right to be here—”
Marcus yanked her off Zach, and to his horror, threw her at the far wall. Impact didn’t even faze her.
She came back at Marcus, shrieking. He backhanded her, knocking her off her feet. Before she could recover he trapped her against the floor. “Claire.” A whirlwind of sand appeared out of nowhere, wrapping around them.