Page 1 of Fortune's Favor

Chapter One

GYPSY

Dark night. Stars slowly turning until they sizzle into the nothingness of space. Echoing steps and fiery pain. Fear. So much fear.

My heart pounds in my chest, my breath panting out as I search the night around me. All I see is darkness. All I feel is fear. He’s out there. I know it. I can feel the sickly sweet taste of him all around me. The air is thick with it.

Danger. Anger. Down to the bone anger that’s driven him to this.

And it is a him. I know that too. I just don’t know who he is. I can’t see him.

My hand comes up to press against my shoulder and I close my eyes, fighting the blackness trying to creep up at the corners of my vision. Waves of pain wash over me and I grit my teeth, biting my lip to keep from moaning or screaming.

Because if he hears me. I’m dead. If he sees one single movement. I’m dead.

I hear a bush rustle off to my left and I freeze painfully, all the breath being sucked right out of my body.

He’s still out there. Still looking. And if he finds me, I’m dead.

If he gets any closer, he’ll see me hiding and that will be it for Gypsy Devine, psychic extraordinaire.

I’m sure people will wonder how the hell a killer got the drop on a psychic. I know I’ve wondered that too.Why can’t I see this guy? Why can’t I figure out who he is and why the hell he’s messing with me?

What the hell did I ever do to this guy to make him want me dead?

A car door slams and I fight the urge to run towards the sound. He’ll be on me before I ever reach help that way. I’ve got no choice but to sit here and hope and pray that somebody up there loves me enough and I’ve done enough good in my life to not end up dead out here tonight. Alone.

I hear footsteps close by…slow, steady. A hunter stalking his prey, single-mindedly focused on killing. On ending me.

Loud rock music thumps in the clearing of the woods and headlights flood the area as teenagers jump out of what seems like a million vehicles and laugh and yell.

Muttered curses off to my left and then loud thrashing as he runs for the hills.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes and lean into the tree in front of me. My shoulders sag and that sets off the thumping pain in my injured shoulder. I press on it with my hand and wait for a few minutes until I hear another vehicle further off.

He’s finally gone. I’m safe for another night.

But if he keeps coming and coming, I’m not going to be safe for long. I don’t understand how this guy ducks my mind’s eye but he keeps getting the drop on me. It’s like he’s a cut-out and there’s no life there. He’s a mannequin so I can’t see him or feel him.

Can’t sense his thoughts or desires or feelings at all. He’s a literal black hole for everything that I can usually tell about people within seconds of meeting them.

It shouldn’t be possible. I should be able to feel him out there. Sense him somehow.

But I can’t. There’s something wrong. And if I don’t figure out what it is, I’m dead.

I like to think there’s such a thing as ghosts but I’m not hanging my hopes on hanging out as a specter for the rest of my life.

I need help and there’s only one man that I trust enough to get me through this.

My ex-stepfather. Captain Jeremiah Stone. The only cop that I’ve ever trusted enough to tell him the truth about my abilities.

The fact that he believed me without me having to prove a damn thing to him makes him a different kind of man than I’m used to.

A better man than any I’ve met before or since.

The best man for this job. He’ll make sure I live and find out what’s going on and I’ll finally be able to get on with my life without the nightmares and the dread plaguing me every day of my life.

He’s my last best hope.

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