Page 12 of Desperately Seeking Vampire
“No, eight of cups isn’t a bad card at all.” She bit her lip for a second, then looked up at him again. “It’s a journey card. It says that you are on the path of a journey into the unknown.”
“At last, a card that doesn’t harp on my past,” he said, nodding with approval even though the only journey he would be taking was back to his mausoleum.
“Actually ...” She gave a wry smile. “I’m afraid it does deal with your past. Because this journey that you’re about to start can only happen if you release the fears of your past. In effect, you’re walking away from something that no longer works for you. Does that make any sense?”
“No,” he said, and pulled money out of his pocket, placing it before her.
“Are you sure?” Minerva looked puzzled, her eyes scanning the cards. “My readings are usually dead-on. Maybe you’re just not admitting something to yourself—”
“I have no future, so your cards are faulty,” he said firmly, standing, but strangely loath to leave her. She might be all wrong with her tarot reading, but that didn’t mean he wanted to part company. Far from it. “Have you seen the fair? I have not, but it looks interesting. Perhaps you would like to accompany me?”
“Actually—” she started to say, but stopped, her eyes growing round when two men pushed themselves around Ivo.
“You. We haven’t talked to you. We are looking for a woman named Minerva Goldstein. You know her?” one of the two said, leaning over Minerva, his fists on her makeshift table.
Her expression was frozen, but Ivo saw a flash of fear in her eyes that instantly had him moving around to her side so that he could face the two men. They were large, like circus strongmen, but Ivo didn’t like the air of menace that rolled off them.
“Who ... uh ...” Minerva swallowed, clearly unwilling to identify herself to the men, and Ivo didn’t blame her.
“Who are you asking about?” Ivo asked, draping his arm casually across Minerva’s shoulders. They twitched at the contact, but to his surprise—and a brief spurt of pleasure—she leaned into him.
One of the men repeated the name. “She is with a thief. He stole a spell, a valuable spell,” the second added, his eyes narrowed on Ivo. “You know her?”
“No,” he said, meeting the gaze without so much as a flicker of an eyelash. “And neither does my ... my fiancée. Isn’t that right, Persephone?”
Minerva’s lips parted as she slanted a look up at him, blinking twice before she managed to say, “That’s right, Ivo. You said someone stole a spell? Like ... a spell spell?”
“A spell, yes. The kind you cast,” the first man said, his lip curling up. He pointed at Ivo. “You are mundane? Ask the Dark One. He will explain about spells.”
Minerva seemed to turn to stone beside him. Ivo gave a mental sigh. He didn’t mind people knowing what he was, but if she was a mortal being, then he’d be obligated to explain to her what Dark Ones were, and she’d no doubt be terrified of him. Everyone feared Dark Ones. “What does this spell do?” he asked, hoping to distract Minerva from his origins.
The second strongman frowned at him. “It’s valuable, OK? That’s all you need to know. If you see this Minerva Goldstein, then tell us. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“Why ...” Minerva gave a little cough. “Why do you want her? You said someone else stole the spell.”
“She knows where her partner hid it,” the first man said, straightening up before turning to the other one. “Maybe she’s with the music people. We’ll go check there.”
“There’s so many of them,” the second complained. “And I’m hungry.”
“You just ate,” the first said sternly as they retreated. Ivo took a few steps after them, torn between accosting them, and allowing them to leave, since they clearly distressed Minerva.
“How do you expect me to intimidate everyone unless I keep my strength up? Besides, you ate six hamburgers, and I only had five.”
“You had two sausages with your burgers,” the first argued as they moved into the crowd. “That counts for one burger.”
Ivo watched them a few more seconds, then turned to ask Minerva what that was all about.
She was gone. The handwritten sign announcing her tarot card reading fluttered in the cool night air next to her empty chair, and the equally empty makeshift table.
No, not empty. He moved over to catch a scrap of blue paper as the wind lifted it.
Hotel was written on the paper. Room evergreen in ever-dying coals of despair.
Ivo pursed his lips, wondering exactly what the cryptic note meant. Was she mocking him? Or was this a way of alerting him to something ... like her hotel room number?
And if it was the latter, why did he so badly want to see her again when he had no future with her?
No future at all.
