We walk in companionable silence through the heart of Jackson Square. Vendors line the streets, selling everything from trinkets to card readings. A light fog blankets the ground, while the low glow from the streetlamps casts an eerie haze over the area. I pull my jacket tighter around me, staving off the chill.
“Miss, would you like a reading?” an elderly woman with a hunched back asks from her chair.
“No, thank you,” I say, shaking my head.
She stands on wobbly legs, making her way toward me. I keep walking, as that’s what you do in Jackson Square. If you make conversation, you’ll get talked into buying just about anything.
With my head turned forward, I don’t see what jerks me backward. I spin around to the haggard woman staring up at me, mouth agape. How did she make it to me so quickly?
“You’re shrouded in darkness,” the woman says, voice shaking. “I-I can’t see your light. Who are you?” she murmurs, and I pull out of her grasp.
“You shouldn’t touch people,” I grate through my teeth. “Never know what you’ll stumble across.”
Her eyes are wide, scared even.
“Something evil possesses your soul.”
“Yeah, well. Tell me something I don’t know,” I hiss, walking away without another word.
“What the hell was that about?” Zeke asks, lips forming a thin line.
“She’s nuts?” I offer, knowing she isn’t.
I might not consider myself evil, but according to Heaven, that’s exactly what I became the moment I fell. And the evil that possesses my soul? I’ve been trying to run from it since that very day.
A shiver courses through me, and Zeke pulls me in to his side. My initial reaction is to remain in the comfort of his warm, strong arm, but I resist, shrugging out of his grip. I don’t need to send mixed signals.
“What she said,” Zeke begins, and I don’t stop him. “You’re not evil, Tori.”
I look up into his sincere eyes that stare back at me intensely. A woman could get lost in those soulful eyes. I’ve spent so much time trying to push him away. Maybe he’s right. Perhaps all my efforts are for nothing, and I’m wasting time on Earth being lonely.
Stop it.
I berate myself internally. This is the very crux of why I keep my distance. When I’m drawn back to memories of the time I fell, I feel out of control. The hurt of betrayal and the emotions that came the moment I landed here on Earth make me rash. I chase whatever emotion will help me forget, and every time, I find myself in Zeke’s arms. He’s been my crutch, and it’s not fair to him.
“I might not be evil, but she’s not wrong, Zeke.”
“What does that mean?”
I shrug. “My light was destroyed before I ever fell.”
MIRACLE
Something evil possesses your soul.
It’s been three days since Jackson Square and my run-in with the crone. Her words have haunted me to the point that I can’t sleep. Knowing that she possibly has more of the answers I seek only manages to make my anxiety worse. I’m exhausted and because of that, I’m unable to produce a storm. My energy is depleted, making it unsafe to hunt. I’m practically useless.
My only saving grace is that Zeke has seen fit to leave me alone. He hasn’t come checking on me, and I’m grateful for that. It’s given me time to process what the old woman said and to know I want—need—to hear more.
I’ve never put much stock in the things the mediums in the square say. For one, it’s heresy, and for two, most of them are full of shit. They don’t truly see the future or read cards. They read people. They tell you what they think you want to hear. It’s a scam.
The woman from days ago was not. How much could she possibly know?
I’m about to find out. My feet are moving determinedly toward the spot I last saw the woman. Maybe she has the answers I need to get home, or maybe I’m simply playing with fire. Either way, I’ve come this far.
Except when I get there, she’s nowhere to be found. In her place is a middle-aged woman with wavy raven hair that hangs past her breasts, leaning over a table decked to the nines with all the trinkets that draw in tourists. A fake.
“Care for a reading?” the woman croons. That voice is probably a siren call to the out-of-towners milling about on a typical night in the square, but it does nothing to coax me into her charade.
