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18.

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Tillie settled herself in a chair in a new motel room in a new town in a new state. The chair left a lot to be desired as far as comfort went, and she felt a pang of nostalgia for her beautifully and comfortably appointed condo in St. Louis. Would she ever see it again?

She shook her head and resolutely returned her attention to one more task before she would allow herself some sleep. It had been a long day, running from the Auditors, maintaining her shield spells. She still wasn’t quite sure how she’d managed to escape this last time. It had seemed like they were just going to hunker down in that parking lot until she’d had enough, but then suddenly there was a bunch of shouting outside and she had risked a peek through the window, just in time to see the Auditors hastily getting into an old wood-paneled station wagon and tearing off after another car.

She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man inside the other car, but she had gotten a glimpse of sandy hair and she suspected it was the guy who had warned her. She hoped he’d gotten away.

Tillie had rushed off to find another ride out of town, and along the way had made a decision: it was time to stop being the victim. That wasn’t her style and it wasn’t working.

She’d always been a tough cookie; after all, they’d considered her a threat first.

And she wasn’t completely alone after all. There was this sandy-haired mystery man, for one.

Then there was West Magic, a shop in Seattle that had reached out to her just a couple of weeks ago, looking for a seer to sit and read palms and tarot cards for a while. She’d thought it sounded kind of fun at the time and had planned to ask Trevor if he’d be up for coming along as a vacation.

It seemed like that would still be a viable option, and a magic shop always had defensive spells, especially those owned by spellers. It was the perfect spot to hide out.

But then again, it was such a logical place for her to go, and they’d found her in a motel she’d picked at random after taking random rides from random strangers.

Plus, the timing was strange. Was Fawn Thompson somehow connected to the Auditors? Maybe it was a trap. Why had she reached out to Tillie of all people? Surely there were seers aplenty in Seattle.

The best way to find out would be to scry.

Tillie stared into the bowl of water in front of her. A crystal would work better, but in a pinch, a skilled seer could see long distances in anything clear.

She took a deep breath and reached out with her senses, focusing on the present rather than the future. One unexpected side effect of her work with spelling had been that scrying in the present came easier to her. It made sense – using a muscle made it work better, and magic was no different.

A picture formed, and her mouth fell open in astonishment. Was that Mattie’s old college boyfriend standing at the counter? What was he doing there? He looked a little worse for wear, but he was still very easy on the eyes, and in Tillie’s professional opinion, he had the sourfaced blonde behind the counter, who had to be Fawn Thompson, wrapped around his little finger.

“I’m looking for Tillie Holiday,” he was saying. “Does she still work here?”

He was looking for her? Tillie struggled to maintain her connection. Mattie had to be behind this. But how? Why?

Fawn frowned. “I don’t know about ‘still.’ Fact is she never showed up – fucking seers have no respect for anyone else’s time. They either roll in early with no regard for whether you’re ready for them, or they leave you hanging. To be fair, we never set an actual date, but she stopped calling me back, and I’m starting to wonder if she’s ever going to come in at all. I have regulars waiting for their cards read, you know. One guy’s been calling the shop every couple of days looking for her specifically.”

Well, excuse me for being on the run for my life, thought Tillie. It sounds like they’ve tracked me there – the guy must be Jerry.

She slumped slightly in her chair, but kept watching, hoping for more information.

“Why do you care, anyway? Anyone can see your future’s bright,” said Fawn. She gave Cameron what she probably thought was a sexy simper, but which ended up more like a petulant pout. “Don’t you know that spellers have more fun?”

She tossed her hair and smiled at him. The smile looked rusty and forced. And was she – holy crap, she was. She was actually batting her eyelashes.

Tillie couldn’t help herself – she lost focus and the picture disappeared as she began giggling. Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She’d been on the run for so long, and she was so tired and stressed out, and now suddenly, out of the blue, there was a mage hitting on her sister’s ex. Tears ran down her face as huge peals of hysterical laughter erupted from her belly.

She fell off her chair and sobered up. What did this mean? What was Mattie up to? Tillie realized that she’d been so focused on running that she hadn’t really thought about the people she’d left behind.

That thought led to wondering about Trevor. She’d told him not to worry, but that was probably futile. He was a born worrier. Had he called Mattie? Was he in Seattle too?

Maybe she had more allies than she thought.

Grabbing onto the edge of the chair, Tillie pulled herself to her feet and strode to the phone. She dialed Mattie’s number from memory and held her breath as it rang.

A man’s voice answered. “Hello?” It wasn’t Trevor. The voice was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Mattie’s irritating husband, maybe?

She frowned. “Who is this? I need to speak to Mattie.”

“Ah, Tillie,” said the man. “I thought you would call sooner. There have been some complications. We need to move quickly.”