Death Card

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Death Card Page 1

by A C Wilds




  Contents

  Manny’s

  The Reading

  Pete’s

  Taken

  Meeting the Family

  Barn of Light

  Death and Tarot

  Meeting Logan

  A Tried Friendship

  Getting Back in the Saddle

  Dinner and a Show

  Stolen Life

  Fucking Red

  Mating

  Fake it ‘till You Make it

  Soul Bonded

  The Great Escape

  Fuck the Fae

  Finding a Place

  It’s Not the End Yet

  Acknowledgments

  Author’s Note

  Copyright © 2019 by AC Wilds

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  A.C. Wilds asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A.C. Wilds has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  Cover Design: Nichole Witholder – Rainy Day Artwork

  Editing: Robin Lee – Rainy Day Editing

  Formatting: Gina Formats Words

  For my mother, because you never stopped believing that I could do great things.

  Manny’s

  Azra

  The clang of dishes, and the smell of the grease fryer permeate the air. Manny’s is a small diner situated in an even smaller town in rural Virginia. It has that old retro feel with red pleather booths and a jukebox in the corner. The specials are comfort food, and the people come mainly for the pie. This is the place I call home now. It’s completely different than my life in New York, but everything about this new life is.

  I hustle to table five and take the order of the very handsome regular that comes in like clockwork every Friday. He is tall and lean but has a great big beard like a lumberjack. Most of the men in this town work for the local factory, and Manny’s is the go-to place after work. The ratio of guys to girls here is 5:1, so there is always light flirting and sometimes big tips.

  “Hey Jack, the usual?” I ask, even though I know his answer. It’s been the same since I started working here two years ago.

  “Yes, please. And how is my favorite waitress this evening? Doing anything fun after work today?” he asks with an amused tone, because he already knows what I am going to say.

  “No, nothing going on after work. Just some good old binge-watching on Netflix,” I reply, with a tight lip and a flicker of pain in my eyes.

  “That’s a shame, Azra. You know, a pretty girl like you could have the pick of the litter in Hellebore. I know you’d make some poor sap lucky,” he says, as he tries to grasp for my hand.

  “Thanks, Jack. I’m pretty content with being alone,” I say, pulling my hand away. This guy is lucky he tips so well.

  “Well, if you change your mind, I want to put my hat in the ring,” he says, with a slight seductive tone.

  “Don’t worry, you will be the first to know,” I say with a chuckle in my throat to hide my contempt. Don’t get me wrong; Jack is hot. He is personable, respectful, and has a good job. It’s just that I don’t date. Especially not after what happened to me two years ago. Love isn’t worth it.

  I shuffle over to the counter and put my order in before turning toward the coffee machine to make myself a cup. I’m dragging ass today, and the dinner crowd is going to be in any moment. I need to caffeinate to keep my eyes open. Friday night is Mystical Night at Manny’s. Our local tarot reader and psychic makes an appearance here once a week to read people and provide hope to the weary. I don’t believe in any of it, but it gives the folks something to do, and Noli is the best at what she does. She makes people believe that better things are on the horizon and that their lives mean something. It’s better than Prozac and cheaper than a therapist. Besides, Noli is like one of my favorite people. She is upbeat, helps everyone out, and always pays her rent on time. She’s my roommate and best friend. We live down the road from Manny’s in a two-bedroom ranch style house that was built a million years ago. It’s falling apart at the seams, but it’s cheap and cozy. Noli has made these last two years bearable. I couldn’t have made it through them without her.

  The bell over the door rings to signal more customers. We are going to have a full house tonight which means two things, a whole lot of being on my feet and some pretty sweet tips. I hate being a waitress, but it was the only job available when I got to town. I would rather be in the arena show jumping horses, but money is money.

  Noli steps through with her bags of tricks. I rush over and grab a bag to relieve her and bring it over to the card table already set up in the back of the big open room. She’s got on her usual garb, a big flowy purple maxi skirt with a white peasant top. Her hair is braided down her back, and there are some crystals and charms threaded through. She says they are for luck and to help keep evil spirits away, but I think she does it because it looks cool. She talks about magic and mystical beings all the time, but I assume it is just her schtick. She’s quirky like that. She even has a scarf tied on top her head like a bandana, with the tails mixing in with her thick chestnut braid. She’s a knockout standing at 5’8” with a lean figure and these great big green eyes. Her face is soft and inviting. People fall in love with her instantly. She has no problem getting all the guys in Hellebore. Except for Jack; he seems to be impervious to her charms.

  “Thanks, girl. All this crap is so heavy,” she says with a huff.

  “No problem, Roomie. So, what’s on the agenda for tonight? A little tarot? A little crystal ball? Or maybe a magic show?” I say jokingly, because all this is just for fun, even if the old ladies of this town believe it to be true.

  “Haha, very funny. If you must know, we will be doing some tarot and rune reading tonight. I figured I’d switch it up and give the old cronies something to talk about at their canasta card game this week.”

  “Interesting. Will it be like the tarot reading you did on me yesterday? You know, the one where the same card kept coming up?” I tease, wiggling my eyebrows up and down. It was peculiar to me that only one card kept showing up every time she flipped a new one over from the deck, but I’m convinced she was just messing with me. She claims that it’s the cosmos, or whatever, trying to tell us something, but I think it’s total bullshit. A piece of paper isn’t going to tell the future.

  “I already told you that it wasn’t a trick deck. It’s up to you to decide if you want to believe in the things that are right in front of you. Don’t worry. I’ll love you anyway, even if you are a null,” she tells me, while she starts sorting her stuff across the table.

  “Fine, I’ll walk away now and leave you to it. I need to get Jack his order before it gets co
ld anyway. See you in a bit, Oh Mighty Oracle.” With a little bow, I head over to the counter in search of my order. Noli gives me a huge scowl and turns around to continue her setup.

  It doesn’t take long for the fast-paced motions of waitressing to start up. Fridays are my favorite, if I had to choose, because there is continuous work and no downtime to sit and think about past lives and past loves. During the week, it’s much slower. I hate waiting around for people to come in. Noli is the real reason everyone is here tonight, but I am capitalizing on it. We need the money, and there are no other jobs in Hellebore.

  Before long, it’s 9:00 pm, and we are cleaning up to leave for the day. I’m scrubbing down tables and replacing the napkins when Noli comes up behind me to start her usual Friday night pestering.

  “So RaRa, I think maybe tonight you’ll want to come to Pete’s with me? Melanie is sick, and I need a wing woman. And before you say a thing, I know you don’t like to go out, and I know you aren’t looking to hook up, but for once in your life, please just come out to loosen up. You’re almost 25, and you act like an 80-year-old. I worry about you girl. Most of all, I want you to be happy,” she pleads. And it is true — all of it. I do act 80, and I am watching my life pass me by, but it’s just…I just can’t.

  “Listen Nol, I get what you’re saying, but I’m just not into it. Pete’s is dingy and a total hook up bar. I don’t need to fend off groping hands and small talk my regulars. It’s annoying, and not my idea of a fun Friday night.” I really wish she would just let this go.

  “Can you at least do it for me then? Pleeeeassseee! I’ll be your best friend, and I’ll even take you out for food tomorrow. We can drive over to Clearbrook and have a fancy brunch, just like you used to in New York. I’ll even throw in some mimosas and let you wear my favorite lace top. You’ll look amazing and have a belly full of frittata and champagne.”

  “First off, you are already my best friend, so no bargaining chip there. Secondly, I’m not in the mood. It’s not my scene.”

  “Ugh, Az I need someone to be there with me. I can’t go alone,” she tells me with this pleading look that gets me every time. She looks so vulnerable at this moment. I know she is lonely and is looking for that special someone. She’s making me feel horrible.

  “Brunch does sound amazing. We haven’t been to Clearbrook in a while. I could use a good shopping trip too.” I can see the light in her eye flare. She knows she has me. “Ok, you talked me into it. But, if those guys show up that were there last time, and they start with me again, we’re leaving. I don’t want to have to kick that asshole in the balls again for getting handsy. No means no.”

  “Totally! I’m with you 100%. Eeek! We’re going to have the best time! Ok, I’m going home to jump in the shower. Hurry up and finish here, and then we can get ready together at home. This is going to be one epic night.”

  With that, she is gone like the wind on a spring day. Floating her way down the road like she doesn’t have a care in the world. I wish for one second that I could let myself go like that. Noli is so present, so in the now. She does what she loves and doesn’t apologize for it. I, on the other hand, make a mess of everything and am haunted by my past. I finish up my work, call out to the guys that I am leaving, and grab my bag from the back. It takes five minutes to walk home; another perk of living in our tiny shack. No commute equals no traffic — a definite check in the pro’s column for this town.

  The Reading

  Azra

  When I arrive home, Noli is in my bedroom laying out clothes. I notice that some are a bit scandalous, but I figure I’ll let her have her fun for now. Next to them is her tarot deck, but not the one she uses on Friday nights. I’m starting to wonder what I am getting myself into. Even though I’m exhausted and should probably go to bed, the idea of letting my hair down for the night is exhilarating. I haven’t been out since I first moved to Hellebore, and brunch was the perfect excuse to push me over the edge.

  “You sure did bring out the big guns for tonight. Are these five-inch heels? There’s no way, in all of creation, that I’m wearing those,” I state, while looking at the perfect black patent leather peep toe heels. They have little cherries painted on the back to add a quirky little flair. I could never walk in them. Seeing as we don’t own a car, I’m not going to pay the price of a broken ankle just to look hot at a dive bar.

  “Oh come on! They’re so cute, and you could wear a red top to match the cherries. Here, look at this one,” she says, while holding up a sleeveless V-neck lace red top that will probably cover the girls enough to be decent. I love it.

  “I really like that top, so I’ll wear it, but the shoes are a no-go. I am not trying to bust my ass on the pavement for the sake of looking good. I have some cute booties in the back of my closet that will go with that shirt and jeans. Now, let me get in the shower before we run out of time.”

  “Fine, but I still think my choice is better,” she says, with a bit of a frown. “Oh, and I think we should do a reading before we go, just to get a feel for what the night is going to be like,” she tells me with hope in her eyes. She knows that I hate participating, but I have learned that going along with Noli’s plans is way easier than objecting.

  “If you insist, O’ Magical Mystic!” I sing to her, in my best circus ringleader voice. She answers by throwing a shoe at me, which I artfully dodge.

  I chuckle to myself as I walk into the bathroom. It’s a small room with just a shower, sink, and toilet. We don’t have a bathtub, which is disappointing, but at least the water pressure is good enough to get clean. I quickly wash up and towel dry my wavy black hair. It is not as humid out tonight, so I can get away with just a little curl cream and don’t have to blow-dry it. I walk out of the bathroom into the bedroom finding Noli dressed to the nines in a tight black dress with the same cherry heels she tried to convince me to wear. I laugh to myself, knowing that I will have to catch her at some point tonight.

  “You look great. Is that dress new?” I ask, while turning toward my outfit to get changed. She nods with a devilish smile and goes back to applying her makeup. She’s finishing up a smokey eye, which looks fantastic against her green emeralds. I’m a bit of a makeup whore. It’s like a mini Sephora store in my bedroom. To say that we spend a lot of money on makeup is an understatement. That store is Disneyland for women like us, and makeup is the first thing that Noli and I bonded over.

  “Move over, mirror hog,” I say, as I push her with my hip to get in front of the mirror. If I don’t start now, I’ll never be ready in time. A full face takes a while to get just right. I might as well feel as pretty and as put together as possible since I haven’t had a night out in a long while. Makeup helps me to transform from a lonely looking caterpillar into a confident, colorful butterfly.

  “When you're done, meet me in the kitchen. I’m going to start my reading while I’m waiting for you,” she tells me, then sashays herself out of the door. I shake my head and return to making myself look fabulous.

  I finish up the last coat of red lipstick and turn to look at myself in the mirror. I look perfectly put together in my black skinny jeans and Noli’s top. My boots make me just the right height, and I will be able to dance all night comfortably in them. I love my body and how strong it is. I may not have a small frame or be tall enough to be a model, but I’m comfortable in who I am. Giving myself one more admiring glance, I turn and go to find Noli.

  She’s sitting at the kitchen table with her left elbow on the table and her hand supporting her head, while the right hand is arranging cards. “So, what do they say? Are you meeting Mr. Rich, Famous, and Perfect tonight?” I ask her.

  “Not quite. They say that I’ll be meeting someone, or rather two someones, but that I won’t be able to choose from either of them. It’s also not my choice. It’s like they are being put in my path for someone else’s benefit,” she says, while looking at the cards like they’re broken. “I’ve never seen a reading like this before.” She mumbles to herself.
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  “That’s confusing and not at all helpful,” I tell her. “Want to read mine now, so that we can go? I don’t want to be out too late because someone promised me yummy brunch in the morning, and I don’t want to miss it,” I say, trying to lift her spirits back up. She looks a little defeated right now.

  “Yeah, sorry…I just…never mind. Let me cleanse the area so we can start with new energy.” She gets up from the table and grabs a smudge stick that was burning in a dish by the stove. She swirls the smoke around her hands and chants in a language I don’t know. She walks across the room and surrounds me with smoke. By now, I’m used to all the Noli weirdness, so I go with the flow and wait until she is seated in front of me again.

  “Place your hand on the deck, and speak your intention,” she states.

  I place my hand on the deck she has in front of her. The cards are well worn and look like they are a treasured possession. They remind me of my favorite book that I’ve read hundreds of times. They’re black on one side with detailed hand painted pictures on the other. Noli said she got them from a great-aunt. They were passed down through her family. The original owner had them commissioned by a fairy princess, or something equally laughable.

  “I, Azra, wish to know if my night at the grand watering hole, Pete’s Bar and Grill, will end in laughter, or frustration?” I question, with laughter in my voice the whole time. It took all of me to get it out.

  “I see what you’re doing here, Azra, but let me tell you something. The cards know! They always know!” She says with a huge smile on her face, and her index finger pointed to the sky.

 

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