Chapter Two

Ryan found something rejuvenating about being in the large hall of the Andrew Jackson Davis Center. Energy thrummed through the building, through all of Cassadaga. The austere hall was old wood and hummed with the whispered conversations of those waiting for a reading, mixing with the voices of those who were seated with psychics.

Standing next to her, he watched Lisa as she did her readings. She had talent but needed a little more confidence. Ryan eyed the line, surprised by the length of it. They were going to be there a good while, and the oscillating fans didn’t give much hope to keeping the heat at bay. Amy Straub, one of the older psychics watching over the apprentices, was already complaining of feeling light-headed.

Lisa finished up with her client without much need of his help. Ryan glanced up to see who was up next. His pulse quickened when he spied the dark-haired man at the head of the line. A whisper short of average height, the stranger made up for it in form. While his TARDIS T-shirt, which read “You never forget your first Doctor,” wasn’t tight enough to judge chest muscles by, his tanned arms were toned as were his legs, left bare by cargo shorts. The man got extra points for being geeky.

He was talking to a young Asian woman. Friend? Girlfriend? Ryan hoped not. Just like he hoped Lisa would finish up in time to be the one to do the man’s reading. Of course, the stranger might be there to support his friend. Would it be ethical to break into Lisa’s reading if she wasn’t having trouble and hurry her along because Ryan really wanted to take this man’s hand? Touch governed his ability to read someone, visions sometimes coming to him when he didn’t want them. Sometimes knowing people too well by merely touching them, or something they valued, could be heartbreaking. It didn’t stop Ryan from wanting to hold this man’s hand. Watch it be one of the times his powers gave him diddly-squat.

Lisa bade her current customer goodbye. She drank from her bottle of mint water before waving at the stranger. Ryan was unable to suppress his smile as the cute man walked over and sat at her table. He rested his long-fingered hand on the stars-and-moons dotted fabric Lisa used as a tablecloth. She glanced up at Ryan, and he gave her a slight nod.

“Hello, I’m Ryan, and this is one of my students, Lisa. She’ll be doing your reading today. I’m here to give her guidance as needed.”

The stranger nodded, his chocolate-hued eyes raking over Ryan, making his pulse go wilder. “Sounds good.”

Lisa put her hands, palms up, on the table. “Rest your hands on mine, please, and we’ll start.”

He did as she asked. Ryan noticed he didn’t offer his name. He mulled over the possibility the man would turn out to be one of those few who came to troll the psychics. They didn’t get too many trolls face to face, if for no other reason than most people had better things to do than toss down a considerable amount of money to call someone a fake. Online was a completely different matter. It was trolls a’popping there.

“Picture what you came here seeking answers about. It’ll help me read for you,” Lisa instructed.

“All right.”

It would be great if the man would talk a little more. It was hard to judge what sort of voice he had when he was being so terse. Ryan was a sucker for a nice voice and pretty eyes. His eyes spoke of the warm Mediterranean sun, absolutely beautiful. Their client canted his gaze up at Ryan, forcing him to look away and pretend he wasn’t halfway to eye banging him. Ryan faked interest in the crowd as he noted the man’s companion make her way across the room and end up with Michaela and her student.

Lisa closed her fingers over the man’s hand. Her serene expression faltered. Lisa furrowed her brow after making some noncommittal comments, so vague they could have been about anything. Ryan would give her another minute before stepping in—when it became obvious she was unable to read the man.

“I’m sorry. It’s like a darkness, a storm complete with lightning in it. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Lisa looked near to tears of embarrassment or frustration. Ryan didn’t know.

“It’s okay. Maybe I’m one of those guys who can’t be read.” The stranger rolled his shoulders, but there was a subtle smirk on his face, like he knew that going in.

Is this guy some sort of plant?

Ryan said, “May I try?”

The man waved to Lisa’s seat. “Sure, go ahead.”

Lisa got up, and Ryan took her place, letting her study his technique. Ryan touched the man’s hands and immediately found the dark storm. Holy hell, it’s a psychic shield. It was rare to come across a naturally occurring shield that the person was unaware of.

Ryan studied the man’s face. Up close, his brown eyes had flecks of jade and honey in them. The stranger—Santino—blinked as Ryan pushed along the edges of the shield. He’d gotten the man’s name but not much else. Santino had put this shield up as a test. Ryan sensed that, but everything else was a blank. How intriguing. When was the last time this happened?

“You might be right, Santino,” Ryan said, and Santino arched his eyebrows at the use of his name. “You’re unreadable. We’ll gladly refund your money.”

“Disappointing, but I understand. Maybe another time.”

Santino pushed back from the table and regained his feet with the grace of a dancer. Or maybe that was a bit of wishful thinking on Ryan’s part, unable to tell the man’s orientation in spite of a mental push for information. His abilities had kept crashing into the blankness surrounding Santino.

“Ask for Ryan Doyle, and I’ll be sure you get the discounted rate to make up for today.” He smiled.

Santino echoed his smile. “Sounds great.”

He sauntered off toward the gift shop and book store.

Man, what an ass he has. Ryan wished he could give it a caress. He certainly hoped Santino returned.

“Sorry, Ryan. I messed up,” Lisa said.

He held up a hand. “No fears. I didn’t fare any better. You didn’t do anything wrong. Go ahead and call your next client over.”

An older woman took Santino’s place. Lisa read her like a book. Ryan barely paid attention, his mind occupied by the mystery Santino represented. Ryan hoped he’d have time to puzzle him out, but likely, he’d never cross paths with Santino again. He tamped down his disappointment and turned to Lisa.

*

“Can we stick a fork in this looking into the psychics thing so we can move back to the nixie problem?” Cam asked as she sat on one of the benches outside of the Colby Temple, the spiritualist church near the Davis Center. Her long hair stuck to her sweating face, and from the black clouds gathering overhead, Santino assumed the afternoon rain would be making its daily appearance any moment. They should have been walking to their bright blue house, but he had something to look into.

Santino dropped onto the bench next to her. “Not now. I want to accidentally run into the psychic who did my reading.” He hated that he actually made air quotes around the word “accidentally.” What was he turning into?

“The little blonde or the cute mentor?”

“Mentor. Well to be fair, Lisa saw the shield, but her mentor, Ryan, actually got behind it enough to get my name. He’s the real deal.”

Cam grinned. “Oh cool. They’ll love it if we can get another recruit from here.”

“Maybe two. Lisa is in training. She might have the potential.”

“Not the guy I had. He was making up stuff he thought I wanted to hear. If he has any real talent, it wasn’t showing.” Cam wiped her forehead, looked at her fingers with a grimace then rubbed the sweat into her shorts. “Want me to wait with you?”

Would approaching Ryan as a pair of tourists be better for their purposes? On the other hand, Santino was pretty sure Ryan had been checking him out. He didn’t mind. Ryan was damned cute, a little blonder than Santino usually went for, a bit doughy in the middle, like someone who spent a bit too much time in front of a computer. Or in his case, maybe too much time sitting with clients doing readings. “I think I’d rather go it alone. I think Ryan likes me.”

Cam fist-bumped him. “That would make things easier. You go strut your stuff. I’m going to talk to a couple of the workers at the Purple Rose. They know one of the psychics who collapsed the other day. I want to investigate if it’s heat exhaustion or something else.”

Santino nodded. “Sounds like a plan. And when I get home, we can work on the nixie problem.”

“Great.” Cam bounced up and sauntered along the sun-bleached road in the general direction of both the Purple Rose and their temporary housing.

Santino tried to find the shadiest spot to sit and wait. He gave up after a while and went inside the bookstore to cool off. He didn’t want to stay there too long. Santino doubted Ryan would feel as free to talk inside a place he worked, especially if he suspected Santino was doing a little jiggery-pokery along the edges of his mind. Santino wasn’t made for the brutal Floridian sun, so he had to practically force himself outside.

“Can’t believe people like this climate,” he muttered, not flinching when a woman went inside the Davis Center, giving him the look of death. Tough, he wasn’t forgiving of humidity.

“Some people actually do.”

Santino turned, spying Ryan leaning in the doorway. In the sunlight, his hair looked more gold. Santino had to handle this delicately because he wanted this man to join their group. It would be helpful if his body wasn’t reminding him how long it had been since he’d had a date, let alone someone to spend the night with. “Sorry, I didn’t get the humidity-loving gene.”

Ryan left the doorway, looking up at the clouds. “To be honest, I didn’t either. Sorry your reading didn’t go better.”

“I think you know it went better than your student realized. Good catch on my name.” Santino grinned.

“It really is Santino?” Ryan sounded hesitant. Who would blame him? Santino’s shield was a tough nut.

“Santino Bellomi. My parents decided against continuing with anglicized names.”

Ryan eyed him. “Sounds like a story.”

Santino nodded, tugging on his shirt, trying to get better ventilation. “Want to hear it?”

“I think I do.” Ryan wiped at his rapidly reddening face. So it was true; Ryan didn’t have the humidity gene either. “I think there might be a thing or two you and I need to discuss.”

Be it psychic shields or mutual attraction, either topic should be interesting. “I agree, but probably not here in the middle of the street. I’m pretty new here, but I’ve noticed a dearth of places to sit and hang out to talk.”

Ryan wrinkled his nose. Santino wondered if that was in agreement with his grim assessment or in anger over it. Ryan pointed over Santino’s shoulder at the Cassadaga Hotel. “Have you tried the coffee shop?”

Santino arched his eyebrows. “Not yet. You can drink coffee in this heat?”

“I’ll probably drink tea, but yes.”

“Good. I never trust people who say coffee’s too hot to drink when it’s hot outside. They don’t get it.”

“I agree.” Ryan walked past Santino, making a little beckoning motion.

Santino trailed after him into the old hotel. It was more crowded than usual in the gift shop area because it was a weekend. The coffeehouse inside the hotel had a few people in it. Santino would have to keep this first talk a bit general since there were a couple people within earshot, but inviting Ryan to his home or out for a walk or something lacked feasibility. With few sidewalks and narrow streets in many areas, Cassadaga wasn’t made for easy walking. He didn’t want to say, “Hey, let’s go for a walk in Colby Park.” Who took a stranger into a subtropical jungle in the heat of the day? Serial killers, probably. On the other hand, he couldn’t segue into “Want to join a group of psychics, mages, and those who hunt the wicked supernatural creatures?” in public. Well, he wouldn’t have wanted to broach that can of supernatural weirdness in their first conversation anyhow.

“So, did you put up your shields on purpose?” Ryan asked as soon as they were seated in a shady corner of the coffee shop with their orders. He took a bite of his scone, his eyes never leaving Santino.

So, right into business then. Maybe he’d misjudged Ryan. This might be less of a get to know you and more of a “why were you a jerk to my student” conversation. Oh well. “I did it on purpose. As a test,” Santino said, thinking hard on how to couch his words. He had done this enough times he should be good at it, but for his money, it never got any easier.

“You’re a psychic as well?”

Santino lingered a moment over his cappuccino. The oil of bergamot wafting off Ryan’s Earl Grey cut through the strong scent of Santino’s espresso beans. “Not in the sense you mean. I can’t do psychometry, almost at all, for example, and I definitely can’t predict the future.” The people at the next table didn’t bat an eye, and he knew they had to have heard him. Ah, well it is a psychic commune.

“There is something though.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed a bit as if he suspected Santino was jerking him around.

Santino nodded. “Something, yes, but before we get into that, we probably ought to get to know each other a little better. Firstly, I’m hoping you’ll forgive my ham-handed segue. Secondly, I was waiting, hoping you’d come out of the Davis Center.”

Ryan took a pull of his tea, leaving Santino wondering if he’d creeped the guy out. Ryan’s eyes—the color of a clear Floridian sky—offered up nothing. “To explain why you came into a reading shielded?”

“Partially. And partially—and I hope you’re not offended—because you’re cute, and I wanted to talk to you.” Santino flashed a wide smile, which he’d long been told was his best feature. He was no judge of that himself. The man he saw in the mirror seemed pretty average to him.

Ryan smiled back. “Not offended. Pretty damned happy about it, to be honest.”

Santino’s pulse did a little dance. “Good. I hoped I wasn’t imagining you were checking me out and not just gauging your student’s style.” Santino wished he’d snagged a bear claw to go with his coffee. His fingers itched to “talk,” and he was hyperaware of his tendency to use his hands when he spoke. The tendency bothered some people.

Ryan shrugged. “A little of both. So you promised the story of your name. Let’s start with that.”

“I grew up outside of Pittsburgh, and the great-grandparents were from Italy. They gave Granddad a perfectly good Catholic but English name, John, and he gave it to Dad who gave it to my elder brother in the form of Giovanni. My sister is Annamaria. The parents said it was time to stop hiding the heritage and embrace it. So I got one helluva name and an excellent schooling in how to cook to make my ancestors proud.”

Ryan’s whole face brightened, his eyes aglow. “You cook? Great. I barely keep myself alive. Mom was not the homemaker.”

“Too bad. Is she psychic too?”

Ryan raised his teacup to the older couple who turned to look at them at the mention of psychics. “She was. I grew up in Cassadaga’s psychic Camp. My sister inherited the house and took over Mom’s client list when she passed. She was the one who gave you the death glare as she walked into the Center.”

Santino’s cheeks warmed as they pinked up. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult your home… It’s this heat.”

“Eh, it’s nice in the winter but, yeah, summer pretty much sucks. Don’t worry about it. Mary gives people that look when she’s off the clock. Usually, it’s me who gets it. She would have preferred if some of Mom’s clients hadn’t followed me. I live in Harmony Hall now, the place right across the street from this hotel, the one with the holiday lights in a lot of the windows.”

“Oh, sure. I walked past there last night. I saw someone watching me.”

Ryan snorted. “Might have been me. I look out a lot when I’m thinking things over. A couple of the other psychics like to people watch out the window too, which is best done on the weekend.” He rolled his shoulders. “More people then. I work at the Center as you saw. I guess she’s jealous I’m as good as her, maybe better. Mary never did like to share.”

“Too bad about your sister.” Santino paused for a second before continuing, “I’m here temporarily for my job. I’m part of a research team.”

Ryan leaned closer, curious. “Sounds interesting. Research into what?”

“Folklore and the paranormal. I’m not sure how long Cam and I will be here, but it’s always nice to find someone to talk to who doesn’t look at you funny when you start talking about ESP or ghosts or something.”

Ryan snorted. “You’ve come to the right place, then. It’s full of true believers.”

“That doesn’t happen often.”

“Cam—the Asian woman you were with? I thought she might be a girlfriend until you said I was cute.” Ryan grinned, enhancing his cuteness.

“My business partner and friend. We’re sharing the big blue house right up from the Purple Rose.”

“I know the house. If you keep walking up the road, you’ll get to the Devil’s Chair in the Lake Helen-Cassadaga cemetery. You know, one of those chairs that has an urban legend centered on it. In this case, the spirit drinks any beers left there.”

Santino shook his head. “How very redneck.”

Ryan chuckled. “No kidding. I love it when people hear the name Devil’s Chair and start talking about all the bad energy in Cassadaga and how it’s tried to hurt them or drive them away.” He waved his hand. “I’ve lived here almost my entire life and, yes, it’s on a ley line, if you’re researching those. And there is power, but I’ve never sensed anything malevolent. The Devil’s Chair is one of those mass-reproduced cemetery benches.”

“Like you find in thousands of cemeteries everywhere. Let me guess, there’s nothing special about the bench,” Santino replied.

“Nothing, and several psychics I know have tested it.”

“And there are Devil’s Chair legends across the country,” Santino added. “Probably worldwide.”

“Exactly, but people still say Cassadaga has bad energy.” Ryan took a deep breath, as if inhaling all of the little town. “I’ve felt nothing but good here.”

“Some people like attention.” Santino shrugged. “Ignore them.”

“I do.” Ryan pulled a long face. “So that’s pretty much my life—living in this Camp and being a psychic. There’s not much else. I got a creative writing degree with a business minor somewhere along the way, but I’ve never gone far from home. How boring is that?”

“Guess it depends on if you like to travel.” Santino glanced at the barista as if contemplating a second cup. “I do, but I’m sure there’s more to tell about you other than you’re psychic and a bit of a homebody, not to mention you can probe behind a pretty damn good shield, if I do say so myself.”

Ryan looked away. “I wish there were more to tell. It would make trying to flirt easier. There’s not much to know. I work. I like Victorian cemetery art, which the Cassadaga Cemetery is not good for. I collect Tarot cards, even if I don’t need them to get my visions, and I’m something of a geek.”

“What level of geek?” Santino read the way Ryan hunched his shoulders. He was expecting to be rejected, had probably been rejected many times before for being a geek.

“Pretty high.” Ryan still didn’t look at him.

“I’ll admit to a pretty big crush on David Tennant’s Doctor, and though I don’t go for older guys much, I want to run my fingers through Capaldi’s hair while we go time traveling in the TARDIS.” Santino tapped the image of the blue police call box on his T-shirt for emphasis.

Ryan sighed and smiled at Santino. “Well, at least you didn’t go screaming into the night when I mentioned the geekiness, and you are wearing a Doctor Who shirt.”

“I don’t speak Klingon but don’t judge those who do. I used to have a great selection of X-Men comics.”

Ryan straightened up. “Have you been to Sci-Fi City in Orlando yet?”

Santino finished off his coffee. “No. What’s that?”

“Comic book store. We could go sometime if you’re still collecting or gaming.”

Ryan’s hopeful tone rang like a bell in Santino’s ear. Ryan might be lonely. A lot of the local psychics were female, many of them older. Also, Cassadaga was in the middle of nowhere, a half hour or more from any of Florida’s major cities—more or less between Orlando and Daytona. He probably didn’t get to date much either. He might be like Santino, half given up on the idea of love. “I’d like that. Are you asking me out, Ryan?”

Ryan flushed. “I guess I am.”

“And I’m betting all the fun things to do around here involve a fair bit of travel.”

“Yeah, pretty much. There’s not much to do here. Even Deltona and DeLand aren’t particularly exciting, but at least they have movie theaters. Oh, and DeLand has Angelina’s Pizzeria. If you haven’t tried them, their Angelina’s Special is fantastic, if you aren’t a vegetarian.”

“I’m not, and I would kill for good pizza.” Santino slapped his hands together.

“Great. I can take you there. Not tonight because I’ll have a lot of stuff to wrap up with the whole half-off reading day event. I’m on break now.”

“I’d like that. Anything else to do here?”

Ryan thought for a moment then shook his head. “Not really. Well, Colby Park is nice to walk in. Have you been there?”

“Just to the lake. I considered suggesting going there to talk, but it’s the heat of the day, and who goes off into the woods with a stranger?” Santino shrugged.

“Someone with no sense of self-preservation. But once we get to know each other a little, it is a nice walk.”

“Sounds good. I promise I’m not a serial killer,” Santino replied, adding to himself, “unless, of course, you count evil spirits.”

Ryan laughed. “I’ll count that in the things I know about you. So I’ve told you the story of Ryan. Let’s hear Santino’s story, like maybe how he learned to put up such a good shield.”

Before Santino could answer, a commotion erupted from the gift shop. An older woman no bigger around than a chair leg ran into the coffee shop.

“Ryan, I thought I saw you here. Come quick. Beth passed out behind the register.”

Ryan jumped up and raced for the gift shop. Santino followed him. Another older woman with a build slightly bigger than the woman who’d come for help sat behind the register, her head in her hands as a young woman fussed over her.

“Melissa, what happened?” Ryan asked, wending his way behind the counter to check on Beth.

Melissa looked up from the older woman she was tending to, but didn’t get the chance to answer before Beth said, “I got a little light-headed that’s all.”

Santino squinted. There was something off about her, about Melissa, too, for that matter. He wasn’t sure what it was.

“She fainted,” the other old woman insisted.

“She got a bit wobbly,” Melissa concurred.

“You should go to the hospital, Beth,” the old woman said.

Beth waved her off. “I’ll be fine.”

Ryan took Beth’s wrist, obviously feeling for a pulse. “I think DeeDee is right. You should go get checked out.”

“Should I call an ambulance?” Melissa asked uncertainly.

“Oh, I don’t need an ambulance. Maybe I got a little hot.”

“How about if DeeDee takes you to urgent care, Beth?” Ryan suggested. “Melissa can man the till.”

Beth nodded, and Ryan helped her to stand. DeeDee took over from there, guiding her friend out of the store. Ryan followed them until they got to the car. Santino tagged along.

Ryan turned back to him, scowling. “It wasn’t particularly hot in the store.”

Santino shook his head. “No, it wasn’t. Didn’t this happen to someone else recently?”

“Yeah a couple people have gotten light-headed and passed out in the last few days. Dehydration is a thing. It is that time of year, but was it me, or did her aura look a bit thinned out?”

So that’s what it was. Santino didn’t see auras so much as sense them. “There was definitely something off about her and Melissa.”

Ryan scowled. “I didn’t notice Melissa, and I hate to say it, but I need to get to work. I think the story of Santino will have to wait until tomorrow. Maybe we could go for a walk, then for pizza.”

“Or the other way around. It’ll be cooler then, and we can walk off the pizza.”

“Sounds like a date.” Ryan stuck out his hand, and Santino took it. He sensed Ryan pushing on the edges of his shield. Santino kept it up, and Ryan grinned. Challenge accepted, but it would wait until tomorrow. Santino looked forward to it.