Page 10 of Fear the Fall
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.
“The woman that was here the other night—where is she?” I bite out the words, trying to signal I’m in no mood for games.
“It’s first come, first serve, and I was here first. I don’t know of whom you speak.” She flicks her wrist, gesturing for me to go away. I cross my arms over my chest. I’m not going anywhere.
“I’m sensing”—she rubs her chin—“frustration.”
I scrunch my nose in distaste. “You can drop the act; I’m not buying it.”
She groans. “Then go away so I can make some money.”
I take a deliberate step toward her, but she doesn’t so much as shrink back. “The woman,” I grate. “Where is she?”
Huffing, she sits back in her chair and raises her arms. “You’re not buying and I’m not talking.”
A growl escapes my lips, but it doesn’t change the woman’s countenance. She’s a scammer through and through. If I don’t offer her something, she won’t talk. I dig into my pocket and produce a twenty-dollar bill. Holding it between my fingers I say, “Ready to do business?”
She grins and snatches the money out of my hand. “Describe this woman you’re looking for.”
“Older, hunched back, long grey hair.”
She huffs, “Almada. She isn’t company you want to keep, girl. She’s...”
“The real deal?” I deadpan. The woman’s lips straighten into a thin line before she stands and walks around the table so that we’re eye to eye.
“Dangerous,” she whispers. “Almada’s visions aren’t something to toy with. Some things aren’t for us to know.”
My eyes narrow at the sudden concern the woman shows. A moment ago, she was all bravado, but now, she almost seems frightened. “That might be so, but I’ll take my chances.” I turn to go, but her hand shoots out, grabbing my arm. I turn slowly toward her with one eyebrow raised.
“The things Almada sees can’t be undone.” She swallows. “People have been hurt.”
Sheisfrightened. It’s there in the moisture she swipes from her brow. In the way her voice trembled when she spoke the wordspeople have been hurt. What she doesn’t realize is that I’m not human. Some old woman isn’t going to hurt me. She can’t.
Knowledge can do more damage than any person ever could.
I shake off that thought. “I appreciate your warning, but unless you know where I can find her, we’re done here.”
“Stupid girl,” she hisses, dropping my arm. “She’s not here tonight. She’ll be on her way to Hebrew Rest.”
“The cemetery?”
She nods, taking her seat at the table once more. “Tonight, she cleanses the spirits.”