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WHEN THE DOOR TO MADAM Quilla’s boutique opened, Sorcha snapped back to attention. Her mind had wandered while she’d been waiting, but she was fully focused again. A pair of giggling fairies traipsed away, walking arm in arm. One of them was holding a large umbrella and neither of them had wings. They must have heard good news to be smiling. Most people wore frowns and scowls these days.
Sorcha crossed to the door and opened it. On impulse, she dropped her illusion again. “Come in,” the seer said, looking up from the small round table that sat in the center of the room. It was covered with a purple tablecloth that matched the fabric on the walls, ceiling and carpet. Fairy lights were strung overhead, casting a welcome glow.
Putting the sign back in the window to say the mystic was with someone, Sorcha closed the door. A few chairs were lined up around the walls. Three of them sat around the table. Madam Quilla rose and carried the spare chair back to its usual place, then gestured at the other one. “Take a seat,” she said with a warm smile.
Sorcha took in her multilayered, multicolored dress and black shawl. She wore a wealth of jewelry that made musical noises when they clashed together. The fortune teller wore a band around her forehead with metal discs attached to it. She was tiny, slim, had a bold nose and olive skin. Her hair was long and brown. She was vivacious and just as pretty as Xiara Evora in her own way.
Sudden doubt assailed the assassin, but she obediently sat down. The gypsy took her chair and looked at her expectantly. “I’ve never been to a fortune teller before,” Sorcha admitted, feeling flustered.
“You’re a virgin, huh?” Madam Quilla joked. One eyebrow quirked up when her client’s face turned red. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to be an actual virgin,” she said in amazement. “I guess you want to know if you’re going to meet the man of your dreams so he can pop your cherry?”
Sorcha shook her head, mentally cursing herself for her telltale reaction. “I’m not interested in dating anyone right now,” she denied, then ignored the image of the handsome courier’s face when it popped into her head. “I want to know about something else.”
The mystic seemed dubious, but she nodded thoughtfully. “Why did you come to see me?”
“Xiara Evora told me I should speak to you,” the assassin said. “She said you might be able to help me get an insight into my future.”
“Did she?” Madam Quilla asked without a trace of surprise as she appraised her client. “I sense you have an important destiny,” she added, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a crystal ball and a silver stand to put it on.
“I’m just a nobody,” Sorcha denied. “I’m not important at all.” She was just a tool that the evil overlords of Nox used to eliminate their enemies.
Madam Quilla glanced at her sharply, as if she’d picked up on that thought, then looked into the crystal ball. Colors began to swirl around inside it and her gaze became remote. “You are on the cusp of change,” she said in a distant tone. “You despise your life and you wish to be free from your chains, but you’re helpless to free yourself. You seek someone to help you break your bonds. Only one man in Nox has the ability to assist you. In order to change your life, you will need to trust him implicitly. He will give you the choice between being able to do good, or continuing to do evil for your masters. If you choose to side with him, your life will be in danger and you might not survive. You will exchange one bond for another, but you will gain the freedom you crave.”
Stunned by the glimpse into her future, Sorcha was mute for a few moments as the gypsy sagged in apparent exhaustion. “Who is this man who can change my future?” she asked. “How will I find him?”
“You’ve already met him,” Madam Quilla said as she tucked the crystal ball and silver stand back in her pocket. “I didn’t see his name. I just saw that he’s the least likely man you’d think could assist you.”
“Can you tell me anything about this mysterious man?”
“He’s a magic user and he’s hot,” Madam Quilla said with a grin.
“So, he’s either a fairy or an elf?”
“Something like that,” the gypsy said evasively.
Excitement mixed with doubt as Sorcha rose to her feet. The possibility that there might be someone who could break her link with the Immortal Triumvirate seemed too good to be true. “Thank you for your help,” she said.
“Anytime, Sorcha,” the mystic replied.
The sorceress flipped the sign over and let herself out. She’d almost reached her mansion when she realized something. “I didn’t tell her my name,” she said, then shivered. Maybe the Night Cursed gypsy could read minds. She could be a very dangerous being if she had the capacity to remember any of her appointments with her clients.
Sorcha pushed her misgivings aside and walked past the door to the living room. She let out a small shriek when a hand snaked out from the doorway and grabbed her arm. Malachi pointed at her face and doubled over in laughter, slapping his thigh soundlessly. “Very funny,” the sorceress said dourly and dropped her hand before she could zap him. She’d forgotten he would be waiting for her in the living room. She dispelled his shield and his masculine laughter rang out.
“That was hilarious!” Malachi said, straightening up and grinning at her.
“Did you find out where Sebastian lives?” she asked.
“Not yet,” he said, amusement evaporating instantly. “I searched some of the wealthiest areas of the Vampire District, but I was sent on a job to the Shifter District and had to end my scouting mission early.”
“How did you get all the way from here, to the Vampire District, then to the Shifter District and back here before dawn?” she asked him curiously. Sunrise was still a couple of hours away.
Malachi buffed his fingernails on his shirt in mock nonchalance. “It turns out I have a gift for miming,” he told her.
“You mimed your way across Nox?” the sorceress asked, then snickered at the idea.
“The skeletons aren’t as dumb as I thought they were,” he said with a smirk.
“They’re still as creepy as hell, though,” Sorcha said.
“Agreed. I’m heading upstairs to take a shower,” the incubus said. “Do you think you could make a potion that will create a temporary shield like that spell for a couple of hours?” he asked as he followed her to the staircase.
“Maybe,” Sorcha said. She’d managed to make a teleporting potion without any spell books to help her. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“I wish you’d thought of this spell sooner,” Malachi said as they reached the landing to his apartment on the second floor. “Eden might still be alive if she’d been able to mask her scent and noise.”
“I wish I’d come up with the shield sooner, too,” she agreed, then gave him a quick hug, feeling responsible for his half-sister’s death.
Now feeling morose, Sorcha trudged up to her apartment and headed for her conjuring den. It wasn’t easy to concentrate on crafting a new potion. Her thoughts kept returning to Madam Quilla’s vision. Could she really have already met someone who could free her from her masters? What did the seer mean when she said she would have to exchange one bond for another? The only way she would learn the answers to her questions was to figure out who the mysterious magic user was.
