It turned out that though Elliot looked like a retired beach bum, he did work. He had several properties that he rented out and managed. He mumbled something about diversifying and multiple revenue streams, but the long and short was that he’d come by the hotel early because he had an appointment with a contractor that afternoon.
Which left Jack and Marin tracking down the fortune-teller on their own. Jack pulled out the scrap of paper with the address from his pants pocket.
“Don’t need that. I think we’ve found it.” Marin pointed to a brightly painted sign hanging above what appeared to be a flower shop.
A cheery, welcoming, very tourist-friendly flower shop.
“Not what I expected.” Jack watched a woman exit the shop with a paper-wrapped bouquet. An expat, if her straight, bright white teeth and American clothes were any indication. He matched his gait to Marin’s, slowing as they closed in on the store. “I’ve never asked, but since we’re about to walk in the door…what exactly is your issue with fortune-tellers?”
“No issue. I just hate scam artists.”
“Right. So you’re telling me that with all the magic floating around, there’s no spell, no magical talent, that lets people predict the future?”
Marin stopped in front of the shop door, a troubled look on her face, and said, “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.”
Then the moment passed, and she walked inside as if nothing was amiss.
Jack followed on her heels. If there was magic inside, he’d have to rely on Marin to spot it—or his handy specs. He pulled out his specially warded tortoiseshell glasses and put them on. They were supposed to let him see magic. They’d been reliable in the past, but he’d never scoped out a legit fortune-teller with them before.
The subtle scent of flowers surrounded him. It was pleasant, like walking through a garden in full bloom, not the overblown perfume smell that florist’s shops sometimes had. The store was filled with handmade goods ranging from jewelry to candles to small hand-carved figurines. There was more bric-a-brac and miscellaneous merchandise in the shop than there were flowers, hence the subdued fragrance.
A young woman sat behind the counter, and behind her were shelves of jars containing what appeared to be dried herbs.
“Can I help you?” the young woman asked.
Jack’s gaze moved from the jars to inspect her more closely. Her accent was American. “Yes, we’re looking for the fortune-teller, Iris.”
The woman had a pretty, heart-shaped face and a pointy chin, all framed by a dark, silky cap of curls. And when she tipped her head, it had the effect of doubling her charm. Jack had a strong desire to like this woman—which he found highly suspect. He didn’t like people on sight. Not usually.
And then she said, “How can I help you?”
Jack’s eyes narrowed. His glasses hadn’t provided any hint of the glow or sparkle that indicated the presence of magic, and yet… “You’re Iris?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
On the way to the shop, he and Marin had decided to skip a cover story. The plan was to be honest, to a point. They were in town to help an old friend locate his missing girlfriend.
So he was a little surprised when Marin said, “We’re interested in your fortune-telling services.”
Again, Iris tipped her head, but there was a wrinkle of confusion between her fine brown eyes. “No.”
“No, you won’t do a reading?” Marin asked. “We understand that there’s a fee, and we’re happy to pay. Or we can schedule an appointment and come back later.”
“No. I meant that’s not why you’re here.”
Jack took off his glasses and pocketed them. Real deal or just good at reading people, this woman was no simple florist. “You’re correct; that’s not exactly why we’re here, though we’re happy to pay your fee. We’re looking for Lila Stedman. I’m Jack Spirelli.” He gestured to Marin. “And Marin, my partner. We’ve been hired to find Lila, and were told that she’s a client of yours. Her friends are concerned for her safety since she disappeared. Maybe you can help us.”
Iris clasped her hands together and rested them on the counter. “I’ve already spoken with her boyfriend. I assume that’s who hired you?” At Jack’s nod, she continued, “Whatever I told him, I’m sure he passed it along to you.”
Her phrasing was odd, and Jack couldn’t help think it was important. “What did you tell him?”
Her hands remained loosely clasped on the counter, but there was a tenseness in her shoulders and posture that hadn’t been there before. Her gaze darted to Marin and then away. Looking at Jack, she said, “Your girlfriend makes me uncomfortable.”
“She’s my business partner, not my girlfriend, but yes, she does have that effect on some people. What do you think, Marin? Do you want to explain it or should I?” Jack asked.
There was something unique about Iris, but evidence wasn’t pointing to psychic yet. Some completely normal, non-magical people could see the juxtaposition of a dragon’s human and animal forms. Unlike Lycan, dragons weren’t shifters, changing from one creature to the other. Dragons were both human and beast at the same time.
Jack didn’t really get it, despite the fact that he’d been living an ancient dragon’s essence for a while now. Merging with Joshua’s essence, his magical soul for lack of a more accurate word, hadn’t given Jack any more insight into dragons. It hadn’t given him magic. It hadn’t done anything to him or for him, so far as he could tell—except let him sleep at night. The alternative for Joshua had been…unpalatable.
Iris looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to explain himself.
“Right. Some people recognize my partner’s dual nature and find it unnerving. Your eyes tell you she’s a tall, red-headed”—Jack gave Marin an assessing look as she frowned back at him—“well, hottie. But some long-buried instinct tells you she’s a predator. The disconnect between what you see and what you know to be is disconcerting. It goes away after a while.”
Marin flashed him one of her dragon grins that showed too many teeth. “Does it?”
“Quit it. You’ll scare the nice lady.”
But Iris looked more curious than concerned. And where she’d avoided direct eye contact with Marin before, now she was openly inspecting her. “Ah, I see it now. Interesting. Can I ask what you are?”
“No,” Marin replied as Jack said, “Dragon.”
An expression of pure delight crossed Iris’s face, and she leaned across the counter eagerly. “May I shake your hand?”
“If I say yes, will you answer our questions?”
Some of Iris’s enthusiasm died. “I’ll try to answer your questions. I don’t know what I said. That’s been happening during some of my readings recently.”
Marin’s face remained impassive, suspiciously so, and she didn’t offer her hand. She didn’t trust their new source.
“Whatever you can remember,” Jack said.
Iris nodded. She jotted a quick note, and then came out from behind the counter. “Give me a moment to close the shop.” She flipped the sign on the front door to “closed” and placed the sticky note on the door. “We’ve got fifteen minutes. Any longer and my customers might not wait. I usually only do readings at lunch and after the shop closes for the day.”
As she spoke, she returned to the area behind the counter and pulled down a few jars. She scooped out ingredients from the jars into a small ceramic bowl, mixed the ingredients with her finger, and then added oil to the mixture.
When she was finished, she picked up the bowl and motioned for them to follow her.
Marin let Iris pass, but put her hand on Jack’s arm to stop him as he followed. Bending her head close to his, she whispered, “From the scent, they’re fragrant herbs and wildflowers. Harmless, no magical properties.”
“But you’re suspicious.”
“Hell yes.” Marin watched as Iris ducked behind a curtain. “There’s something off about her.”
Jack shrugged and followed, with Marin on his heels. They emerged in a small, plain room with a round table. Two chairs were placed near the table, with two more at the edge of the room.
Iris lit a candle using a perfectly normal lighter—no chanting or spells, no magical fire—then settled the bowl on a stand and placed it over the candle. “It smells nice; that’s all. No magic, and certainly nothing that might harm you.”
Either the acoustics were fantastic, she had excellent hearing, or she had some magic that his glasses hadn’t picked up.
Jack pulled one of the chairs closer, and the three settled in around the table.
“What do you remember about your meeting with Elliot?” Jack asked.
“It wasn’t a meeting.” Iris raised an eyebrow. “Like you, he appeared in the shop and started to ask questions about Lila.” She clasped her hands together on the table. “He’s a nice man.”
Why that observation bothered her, or why she’d come to that conclusion, Jack didn’t know. There was something just a little strange about Iris, but Jack still couldn’t put his finger on it. And he liked her, against his better judgment. “And what did you tell him?”
“That I wouldn’t know anything, because I didn’t have that kind of relationship with Lila. We didn’t discuss the future.” Her face looked pinched, but only for the blink of an eye. “Fortune-teller is a misnomer. I don’t attempt to see into the future, because the future is largely unknowable. To believe in foresight is to minimize the importance of free will.”
Marin leaned back in her chair, and when she spoke, her tone was as warm as it had been since they’d entered the shop. “You didn’t discuss travel plans?” When Iris shook her head, Marin said, “Nothing about a vacation she planned to take? Or a possible move in the near future?”
Shaking her head again, Iris said, “I’m certain I don’t recall anything to do with travel.” She gave Marin a gently chiding look. “I don’t lie. There’s a karmic cost that I don’t want to pay. And, again, we didn’t discuss the future.”
Marin’s blatant lie from only minutes before came to mind, and Jack bit back a grin. “What did you talk about in a typical session? If you can discuss it.”
“Generally, my sessions focus on the client’s well-being. The state of their spiritual health.”
“You don’t sound like…” Jack paused as he realized whatever he’d say might be offensive.
Iris’s lips twitched. “A witch doctor? A fortune-teller?” She smiled. “I’m originally from the States, from Houston. I followed a friend here and stayed. I have a horticultural degree, which comes in handy, since I grow some of my own stock for the shop. The psychic counseling is intuitive. I share what I see and what I feel.”
“So you’re not a fortune-teller at all,” Marin said. “What’s with the sign?”
“Ah, the business was originally my friend’s until she retired a few years ago. She and her grandmother were both practitioners. The sign has been there for ages, so when I started to convert the shop, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I just kept it and retouched it.” A mischievous look crossed her face. “And I do stock the odd love potion. For anything else, I place an order with Abi, my retired friend. She’s from this area and grew up learning about traditional remedies from her grandmother.”
“And love potions,” Jack said.
Iris’s eyes twinkled, and she inclined her head.
Marin cleared her throat, shooting Jack a look. “Tell us about the chanting and the dire predictions you gave Elliot. What do you know about Lila being cursed and lost?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you mean.” Iris clenched her clasped fingers. “I said that? That she was cursed? That she was lost?”
“Yes,” Jack said, watching her closely. “That’s exactly what you told Elliot.”
All the color had washed from Iris’s face. “No. That can’t be right.”
“Iris,” Marin said. Her sharp tone chased away the glazed, fixed look in Iris’s eyes. “That particular wording has some special meaning to you?”
Iris’s nod was so sharp that the curls on her head bounced. She swallowed. “Speaking in spiritual terms, for a soul to be lost, it has to be separated from the body.” She licked her lips. “Lila would have to be dead.”