Page 59 of Bloodlust

"Got any hot ones?" I ask.

"The rain is not my friend," Elmo laughs. "I can offer you lukewarm."

"I'll take it." I hand Elmo a bill and rip the soft pretzel in half, handing Hayden a piece. "Here."

Hayden blinks. "You'resharing?"

"I know, shocking, isn't it?" I roll my eyes, waving bye to Elmo as we continue down the park path. "What about you, Doc? You always wanted to be a shrink?"

"I did," Hayden says, taking a tentative bite out of his pretzel. I scoff. Is he worried I poisoned it? "It was always the goal."

"Really? Even as a small child?"

Hayden's expression goes cold as marble. "Yes, even as a child."

"Why?" I ask innocently. "Seems like a strange career to strive for from the get-go."

Hayden looks down at me, scanning my face. "Suppose it was destiny."

"Huh," I hum, chewing the inside of my lip.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…" I sigh. "Destiny seems like a fucking bitch."

He frowns. "What do you mean?"

"It's like..." I pause, gathering my thoughts. "The word destiny is supposed to be positive, right? It's supposed to have a hopeful connotation?" Hayden nods slowly. "Well, based on your reaction to my questions and—" I shrug, "—my own experience...maybe destiny isn't hope at all."

"What is it, then?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "Maybe destiny is just cloaked despair."

"That's quite pessimistic," he muses, taking the last bite of his pretzel.

"In this world, Hayden," I say, swallowing. "Pessimism is what keeps us alive."

He frowns again. He's been doing that a lot today. "And optimism kills?"

"Something like that," I say as we pass a decrepit old woman with a jangling velvet shawl draped over her shoulders. "Oh no."

"You!" She points her thin, wrinkly finger at me as she hobbles over, away from her tarot card stand. "Give me your hand."

"Not interested," I say, groaning. So many nut jobs inthis city. "We'll pass."

"Come on, Camilla," Hayden nudges me, a cheeky grin clipping his lips. "Don't you want to know your destiny? Let her read your palm." He looks down at the wannabe sorceress. "She'll do it."

"Wha—"

Before I can protest, the old woman drags me to her stand and plops me down on the seat. Hayden lingers behind me as she sits down in front of me and takes my hand. She runs her fingers along my palm, oo-ing, and aw-ing. I roll my eyes.

"So? Am I gonna die tomorrow or something?"

"Hurt." The old woman's striking blue eyes snap up at me, and a shiver grips my spine. "I see lots and lots of hurt within these lines, my child," she whispers, maintaining deep contact that terrifies me. "The pain you feel...it runs deep. Deeper than any ocean, darker than any night sky." She trails her hand across my palm. "You feel it every day. You... You feel so much that sometimes it is like you're drowning in your pain. Like you're sinking deeper and deeper and deeper. You feel…" She pauses, wincing. "You feel there is no bottom. That there is no end to your suffering." She takes a sharp breath. "You, my child, you have so many emotions. They are so strong. So vibrant. So bright that they could blind the world." She looks at me. "But you're afraid of what happens when you stop drowning, no? You are scared of what awaits when you ascend back through the water, aren't you?" She drops my hand, shaking her head. "I believe you've been living on the seabed for some time now. It is time to leave, child. There is noanchor holding you down but your own fear of breathing once again."

I sit frozen, stunned as I take in her words. They swirl through my mind with complex clarity. It stings. It hurts. It's too much to process.

"Thanks," I mutter, standing up. I blink up at Hayden, unable to make out his features. "Your turn."