Page 27 of The Second Sight
I expected her to laugh, to dismiss the question as ridiculous. Instead, she was quiet for a long moment, her dark eyes thoughtful as they studied my face.
“I believe,” she said finally, with each word measured and careful, “that there are some people with special abilities that others don’t understand. My grandmama could predict storms three days before they hit. She felt it in her bones, she said. Had a cousin who could find water underground with nothing but a fork, stick and his intuition.” She paused, watching my reaction. “The world is full of mysteries science hasn’t explained yet. That don’t make them supernatural, just makes them waitin’ to be understood.”
“That’s not what I mean. A human with abilities is different. I’m talking about creatures that aren’t human.”
“Well, child, I’m Creole from Louisiana. So I gots to believe in a few things here and there.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Ah, ghosts, I seen one before, so I know they exist.”
“And?”
“My cousin Dorothy Mae claim she saw a rougarou when she was ten or eleven. And haints, I believe they exist. And I guess if we believe in angels, we ‘posed to believe in demons too. I suppose it could be many creatures out ‘dere that don’t show they face to us.
My pulse quickened, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn’t a direct confirmation of vampires, but it wasn’t a denial either. Miss Ellen, with her candles and her herbs and her voodoo priestess mother, didn’t dismiss the possibility outright. That meant something.
“Did my mama have any,” I cleared my throat, “special abilities?” I asked.
Miss Ellen’s expression shifted subtly with something unreadable. “Your mama was gifted in many ways,” she said carefully. “She had a knack for knowing things before they happened. Made her wonderful at helping customers find exactly the right candle and things for their needs.”
Knowing things before they happened. Like my dreams that sometimes came true. The connection wasn’t lost on me. But knowing things didn’t make you supernatural.
“Thank you,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was thanking her for. Maybe for not thinking I was crazy? Or it could be for offering a sliver of validation to the upheaval in my reality?
“Whatever’s troubling you, Kasinda,” Miss Ellen said, “remember that you come from strong ancestors. Your mama faced her own battles, and so will you. Trust yourself.”
We finished closing in silence. The questions still swirled in my mind, but somehow, they were less frantic than before. As I counted out the register drawer, Miss Ellen brought out her keys.
“I can lock up tonight,” I offered, glancing at the clock again: 7:20 PM. “I know you want to get home for your shows.”
She hesitated, studying my face one last time. “You sure you’re alright, sugar?”
“Yeah, I can handle ten more minutes.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?” She offered with sincerity etched in her distinct features.
Not anything, I thought. Not vampires drinking blood in club bathrooms. Not golden magical glasses. Not dreams where that same vampire visited my bedroom and made me—. I shook off the memory.
“I know,” I said aloud, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, really. Just tired.”
Miss Ellen nodded, seemingly satisfied with my half-truth. She gathered her purse and shawl, then paused at the door. “Be careful going home tonight. Chicago gets strange after dark.”
You have no idea. I thought.
After she left, I quickly finished closing. I hoped there wouldn’t be any late customers. It was always hard to tell if someone would come in last minute. My movements were more hurried now as the clock ticked toward 7:30. I locked the front door just in time. I slipped the day’s earnings into the night deposit bag and locked it in the safe. Then I grabbed my purse from the back room. The magic glasses were now inside my everyday purse. I’d been too afraid to put them on again, too afraid to leave them sitting on my nightstand.
I took one last look around the shop. After checking the security cameras, I turned off the lights, set the alarm, and locked the door behind me. As I walked to my car, in my purse,my phone buzzed with a text message. I pulled it out, expecting Brooklyn to be checking in on me.
Instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen: Happy Birthday Twin
I stared at the message. Who the hell was this? It didn’t matter. My birthday was yesterday, and I didn’t text back unknown numbers. I looked around the parking lot, paranoid that I was being watched. I was doing too much. Razzle Dazzle shared parking with the Italian restaurant next door.
I unlocked my car and slid into the driver’s seat, my final decision made. I wasn’t going to meet Seven. He was blocked. I was going to mind my Black business. What I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. I was just going to try to act like I hadn’t seen what I’d seen. Even if I would never forget about him, eventually I would stop dreaming about him.God, I hoped eventually was tonight. That dream was too much, and all I wanted was tranquility over intensity tonight.
Chapter
Eleven
