There was magic here, as there was in any cemetery. This particular one was so old that the magic had soaked into the very tombstones themselves. Generations of preternatural creatures had turned this place into a macabre river of power that fought and flowed against itself.
It was unusable magic by any except those with an affinity for the dead like necromancers or liches.
But magic was magic. I pulled my favorite deck from my bag, fingers running reverently along the smooth surfaces of my cards, and I shuffled through them as I looked around the part of the cemetery I could see.
I didn’t know why I was doing this. I’d tried numerous times today with numerous decks and still got the same card.
Maybe I just wanted to scream my frustrations when I drew The Tower again in a place where no one would judge. I was supposed to be a fortune teller, but right now I felt like more of a magician pulling the same card over and over.
Tapping the deck three times, I shuffled again to really shake it up, then spread the deck on the bench in front of me somewhat haphazardly.
It didn’t matter much, I knew, and instead of taking the time to run my hand over all of it to feel the push and pull of energy, I simply lifted my left hand, palm flat, and jerked hard at the power of the cards to tell me what my immediate future held.
Just as expected, a face down card flew into my hand. The Tower had been doing that all day. I wasn’t shocked for it to happen now.
Sighing, my mouth turned sharply into a disappointed scowl as I turned the card around to glower at it like a misbehaving child.
Only, The Tower was not what stared back up at me.
This time I held The Ten of Swords.
I didn’t move. Everyone knew that this was probably the worst card in the deck to draw for a reading, especially a single card reading, and here we were.
If it had been reversed, I would’ve not been so upset. The Ten of Swords upside down signified recovery and regeneration.
Right side up, as I was holding it, signified danger. Crisis.
Painful Endings.
Fitting, since the card so happily featured a man on the ground with ten swords impaling him in the back.
My heartbeat quickened. The reading I’d asked for with my magic was for tonight. Not tomorrow. Not in a week. Right now.
Maybe Marin had been right; I should’ve just gone the fuck home.
“Readings aren’t usually so doom and gloom,” Aveline’s voice echoed in my head.
She was probably right. It was stupid to get so worked up over a vague, possibly insignificant-
Even without my wolf ears present, I could hear the footsteps on the gravel of the cemetery.
I drew my cards into my hand and back into my bag, then stood up and spun in a slow circle to survey my surroundings.
“Who’s there?” I called. There was no point trying to sneak away. If I could hear whoever it was with my human ears, they’d known I’d been here for much longer.
A man rounded a corner, white-blonde hair bright in the light of the half moon. He was broad, with a muscular build and had to be at least six feet tall, if not more.
He looked unbothered with the situation, and only vaguely interested in me.
It was a convincing act; one I might even believe if the memory of my reading wasn’t so clearly on my mind.
I watched, silent, as he studied the tomb nearest him before finally meandering closer to where I stood, strap of my bag clutched so tightly in my fingers that my knuckles were turning white.
He wasn’t human. I took a deep breath to try to discern his scent, but that only flooded my nose with cologne and made the man turn towards me.
“It’s late,” he said conversationally. “A bit late for a visit here, isn’t it?”
Staring at him, I carefully shrugged my shoulders. “I just like to explore,” I mumbled finally, adjusting my glasses with one finger and turning to watch him walk.
“In a graveyard?” His smile turned skeptic. “I didn’t think witches were that stupid. At least stick to your own territory.”
Did he think I was with the Coven?
“Why does it matter to you?” My voice had turned cold, and when he looked at me again his eyes were the bright yellow of something not-so-human.
Shit.
“It doesn’t. You’ve just done me a favor by making yourself easier to find.” Absently he drew a long, shiny knife from his waist, the blade having been hidden by his shirt.
I should’ve just gone home, damn it.
My fingers curled tighter on my bag. “You don’t know me,” I pointed out. “So I’m not sure what you want-“
“You were with the new king two nights ago, I hear” the man accused, pointing the knife at me and shaking the tip as if to chastise me.
I took a step back, edging around the bench and putting the cement between us.
“The new king?” I repeated, eyes narrowed.
Then it hit me.
Cian.
“Oh, no I’m not with him,” I explained. “I was only there to get my cousin back. I have nothing to do with him-or any of them.”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not what I was told. Seems to me the four of you were quite friendly last night.”
“That wasn’t-“
“I don’t really need you to explain it away to me. The facts are that you fought with him, you’re close with him, and now you’ll pay like him.”
“What does that mean?” I asked sharply. Were people after Cian and the others as well? Why hadn’t any of them warned me?
“It means you should’ve known better than to stray so far from his protection, little witch.” Before I could speak again he was coming towards me, stride no longer casual, but I held my ground as he approached.
My wards were replenished. I had no reason to fear his attack-
His grin grew
