“Step back, vampire.” Gabriel practically vibrates with anger as he turns so his back is to Mist, protecting me. “Willow has a medical condition.”
“I’m fine,” I protest. “Stood up too fast, that’s all.”
Mist frowns. “I meant no harm, angel. I’m here to protect her.”
“Bar. Now,” Killian snaps. He grabs Gabriel’s arm. “And don’t eventhinkabout just ‘popping’ over there using your particular talents. Your little stunt after lunch was bloody reckless.”
“It was necessary.” Gabriel slides his hand down my back and gives my ass a squeeze. “We had somewhere to be.”
The vampires ordershots of bourbon, and Mist passes the bartender a generous tip to leave the bottle.
“What?” she asks when Killian gives her the side eye.
“Do you regularly drink on patrol?”
Ewan throws back his first drink in a single swallow. “Vampires cannae get drunk. One of the few things I miss. That and sunsets.”
“If we live through this,” Mist says, “come visit me in New Orleans.” She pulls a small, fabric pouch from under her flowery peasant top. “I can day walk for up to ten minutes with this.”
“Ten minutes?” Kàra chokes on her own drink. “I cannot even stay awake for that long after sunrise. Tell me of this dark—or is it light?—magic, sister.”
I know so little about the world of theOther, but one thing is very clear. Vampires, witches, and angels might be terrifyingly powerful, but family is still family.
Kàra and Ewan touch one another constantly. As do Killian and Maddox. The sisters laugh and rib one another as if they’ve never been apart.
Until the bourbon is gone, and Mist sinks onto one of the stools and fixes her golden-eyed gaze on me. “Rumors about the ancient evil have been swirling for years,” she says. “Our sire used to talk about the Blade while he tortured us.” She shivers and asks the bartender for a cup of strong coffee. When Gabriel and Maddox start talking about the other archangels, she lowers her voice to a whisper. “I know what you mean to do, Willow. I can see it in your eyes.”
“You’re not going to try to talk me out of it, are you?”
“I would, if I thought it would do any good.” Mist rests her cool fingers on my arm. “I read Tarot, and I pulled cards as soon as I got out of my sleeping trunk tonight.”
“This isn’t going to be good, is it?”
Mist smiles sadly. “Tarot isn’t inherently good or bad. There are many ways to interpret each card. Even more when you consider the relationships between cards within a reading.”
“Well, let’s hear it, then.” My gaze darts to Gabriel for a brief moment, but he’s in the middle of an argument with Mad and Killian over someone called Sariel.
“The spread I use most often—and the one I pulled this evening—is a linear one. It relies on three cards. The first is the current situation. I drew the Devil in the reversed position. There are several interpretations, but the most common involves feeling trapped by forces you can’t control.”
I snort. “Well, that’s fitting.”
“It could be. If that’s the interpretation you choose. But the Devil also suggests that the chains binding you can be broken if you’re willing to accept that what you believe may not be what is actually true.”
I’d tell her that I don’t know what to believe right now, but she’s already moved on to the second card.
“The center of the spread focuses on your challenges. For this, I pulled the Nine of Swords. Usually this represents an extreme situation. Hopelessness, anxiety, and pain. Nine is a number of completion while swords represent suffering, alienation, and great obstacles. There is something in your way.” She nods in Gabriel’s general direction. “My money says it has to do with him.”
Shit. She’s right. “He’s determined to save me.”
“Of course he is. He’s in love with you.”
I choke on my water. “He’s going back to the celestial realm as soon as this is all over.”
Mist’s blond brows shoot up. “If he goes back to the celestial realm, I will pierce my nose with a silver stud.”
“But…that’s fatal, isn’t it?” She’s wrong. I know Gabriel cares for me, he’s anangel.He can’t stay.
“Not fatal. Just very,verypainful.” She brushes her blond hair away from her face, revealing three deep scars running fromjust below her eye to her jawline. “The last card I pulled—the one in the position to give advice—was Death.”
