Hadassah passed a hand over the fluid, letting the magic inside her call to the inherent magic present in the client’s blood. She breathed in. Then out. Patterns emerged, not, as she’d said, like reading tea leaves. Reading the blood was more like how she’d heard seeing auras described. Waves of color, shifting patterns. If she closed her eyes, she could still see what the blood was telling her, but she kept them open—too many freaks had tried to get one over on her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.
“Did I do the right thing?” the client asked, this time in a lower voice. Still insistent but making a semblance of respect.
Hadassah studied the blood. “I can’t tell you the past. Only the future. I see success in business.”
“Good.”
“But failure in family.” Hadassah looked up at the woman sitting across from her. “Whatever choices you made, they are affecting what happens to you moving forward.”
“How do I fix it?” The woman sounded genuinely distraught. Her voice caught. She clenched her fists. Red seeped through the white bandage.
“I don’t know,” Hadassah answered with true regret. “I can only tell you what I see right now. But you’re the only one who has the power to change what happens. You can’t undo what you’ve already done, but you can certainly take a different path.”
The woman stood. “What path should I take? Can’t you tell me that?”
“I can tell you what I see for your future, but it’s not set in stone. The future is fluid. Whatever you do today, tomorrow, next week, in the next minute, all of that will change what happens to you. Right now, I see money. Success. Financial comfort, it’s all very clear. But I see also emptiness, loneliness, an empty house—that doesn’t mean a real building,” Hadassah cautioned. “It’s more of your spiritual house. Your heart. You need to adjust yourself, or you’re going to end up very wealthy, and very, very sad.”
“I’m already sad,” the woman said.
Hadassah put a silk cloth over the bowl of blood. “You can change that. If you want to. What’s more important to you? Money or the people you love?”
The client didn’t answer. Maybe she couldn’t. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs as she gathered her purse and jacket from the back of the chair. She gave Hadassah a long, long stare.
“Have you ever lost something you loved?” she asked.
“I don’t talk about my personal life with clients.”
The client tossed a stack of cash on the table. “What does your future tell you?”
“I’ve never tried to read my own future,” Hadassah said, angry that she felt like she owed this woman any kind of explanation. “You can see yourself out.”
Two days in a row, two consecutive clients with attitude issues. It was almost enough to make Hadassah cancel her next appointment, but justifiable outrage didn’t pay the rent. Keeping space here in Sanctuary was convenient, but not cheap. Her final two clients of the day turned out to be perfect though. No complaining about the process, paid her via the cash app so she didn’t have to deal with physical money, happy to hear what she had to tell them. By the time the last one left, Hadassah’s mood had lifted.
She hadn’t forgotten the client from earlier, though, nor her question. Had Hadassah ever lost something she loved? Hadn’t everyone, she told herself as she tidied up her office and prepared to leave for the day. Still, the woman’s question niggled at her. Pulling her phone from her purse, she quickly swiped in a number.
“Hey,” she said without preamble. “I have a question for you.”
Her mentor, Regina, laughed through the distance between them. “Hello to you, too, kitten. What’s up?”
“What happens if we try to read ourselves?”
A long, slow sigh filtered through the phone. “All these years, and you’ve only decided to ask me this now? I guess it was inevitable.”
Hadassah frowned into the phone. “Is it bad?”
“Bad? No.” Regina laughed.
“Then what?”
“We can’t read ourselves. That’s all.”
“When I was learning, you told me not to try it,” Hadassah said, remembering how stern Regina had been about it.
“I never told you something bad would happen to you, did I?”
Hadassah hesitated, thinking back. “No, but…”
“You were always such a rule follower.” Regina laughed again, but fondly. “I miss you, kitten. You haven’t been to see me in ages.”
“I know. I’ve been busy. Lots of clients…Regina, what does it mean, then, if I’m giving a reading to someone else, but I can’t see anything?”
“Is this someone else a someone else you’re involved with?”
Hadassah pressed her lips together before answering, giving herself a second or two to find the right words, and in the end, still not sure what she could say about Yael. “Maybe?”
“Someone you’d like to be involved with?”
“Maybe,” she repeated. “I just met her. She’s interesting.”
“And you tried to give her a reading, but you couldn’t?” Regina huffed a breath, and Hadassah imagined her mentor sipping from her ever-present mug of black coffee.
“I saw only a few seconds before it just went blank. Totally dark. That’s never happened.”
“Well,” Regina said, “it sounds to me like that means it’s because somehow, her future and yours are intertwined.”
“That’s terribly inconvenient,” Hadassah said with a frown. “How is it that I’ve never run into this before? Even during my training?”
“You were never in love with anyone before, I guess,” Regina answered.
Hadassah’s frown deepened. “I just met her, Regina. Like, literally, just a week ago. I hardly think I’m in love with her.”
“Not yet.”
“Shit.” Hadassah closed her eyes.
Regina made a sympathetic noise. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. Yes. I guess so.” Hadassah sighed. “How are you though?”
The rest of the conversation was quick, the way it usually was with Regina, who’d never been one for small talk. Hadassah promised to make some time to visit. Regina promised to call more often. They signed off, both knowing neither one would follow up with their promises, and neither upset about it.
That was love, Hadassah thought. Accepting each other, even with faults. She forcibly smoothed another frown. She was going to end up needing Botox for all these furrows she was creating.
Enough of that. Whatever had happened between her and Yael had happened. Whatever would happen was going to happen, no matter what, and sure, Hadassah made her own destiny, blah, blah, blah, but she didn’t have to make it right this minute. Right this minute, she was going to have a glass of good house red.
“Red, my friend,” she said as she slid onto her usual barstool. “How are you this fine afternoon?”
Red was already sliding a glass of wine toward her. “It’s almost evening. But you know, it’s always a good day at Sanctuary.”
Hadassah sipped the wine with a happy sigh. She’d have her glass of wine, maybe two. Then she’d head home and treat herself to a long soak in a bath with a good book and some more wine. She’d order in something decadent and fattening for dinner and indulge herself totally. Because she could, damn it. Because she was a grown-ass woman who didn’t need anyone else to make her happy.
“Hello.”
She turned, the voice familiar although there was no reason it should be. Despite herself, her heart thumped harder. Her stomach twisted. “It’s you.”
“Yes. It’s me. Hello, Hadassah.” Yael inclined her head in Hadassah’s direction. Today, she wore her dark shaggy hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Wispy tendrils of hair framed her face and clung to the back of her neck. Her form-fitting black top matched the black jeans and black boots. Her black-painted nails were chipped, one or two of them broken, like she’d been doing heavy work with her hands.
In comp
arison, Hadassah looked down at her own flowing teal skirt and white blouse embroidered with wildflowers. Her dark curls tumbled over her shoulders, held back from her face with a wide band of teal fabric embroidered with multicolored flowers. Opposites attract, she thought, and a sudden burst of wild laughter threatened to burst out of her. She quashed it, trying hard to ignore the flush creeping up her throat. Trying to pretend she wasn’t giddy with glee at the sight of Yael.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, pressing back the giggles.
Yael shrugged. “Sanctuary welcomes everyone.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Hadassah took a sip of wine to stop herself from blurting out something that would make her sound desperate or clingy. That was never how she’d played. She’d always prided herself on keeping things casual. Uncomplicated.
Why, then, had the way Yael left her lingered like the stink of something bad?
Shaking it off, Hadassah gestured at the stool next to her. “Want a drink?”
“Yes. I would.” Yael took the seat. “Wine, the same as you have. Please. Thank you.”
Red poured her a glass and pushed it across the bar before stepping back. Hadassah twisted on the stool. She raised her glass. “A toast?”
Yael stared, her brow furrowed. “Toast is bread. Not wine.”
Hadassah couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter this time, but she bit down hard to stifle it in case Yael thought she was making fun of her. “It is. You’re right.”
Yael lifted her glass, mimicking Hadassah. “Like this?”
“Yes. L’chaim.” They clinked gently. Wine sloshed. Hadassah sipped, and Yael followed suit.
“You speak Hebrew,” Yael said.
Hadassah nodded. “Sure. A little. You?”
“I speak many languages.” She rattled off a string of words with a heavy Hebrew inflection, but she must’ve noticed Hadassah’s confused expression, because she added, “it means, ‘I have one name, but many voices.’”
“I have only one voice.”
Yael studied her. “Maybe you just haven’t heard your others, yet.”
A witty quip rose to Hadassah’s lips, but she kept silent and instead, raised her glass again. “To other voices.”
They clinked. Sipped. Red poured them a second round.
“You’re different today,” Yael said. “Something is not the same as when we first met.”
Hadassah ducked her head. The wine had flushed more warmth throughout her, but she suspected the blush heating her cheeks was more about the memory of how hard she’d hit on Yael. “I’d had a bad day.”
“And today was better?”
“Much.” She described the difference in clients, how performing the hemomancy always took something out of her but working with difficult patrons ended up being more draining.
She did not mention her conversation with Regina.
“And you seek comfort in sex,” Yael said.
Hadassah gave a self-conscious chuckle—it was true, but she hadn’t had anyone ever present it to her in quite that way. “Yes.”
“It is a good release.” Yael tilted her head to look Hadassah up and down. “I also think I would enjoy having sex with you again.”
A short, sharp burst of laughter hurtled out of Hadassah’s lips. “That’s…wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special, you know that?”
Yael frowned. “You sound angry.”
“I’m not angry.” Hadassah lifted her chin, pressing her lips together to make the protest sound more convincing.
“Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not…” Hadassah bit back the rest of her sentence. She sighed. “You walked out on me. Just like that.”
“Just like what?” Yael leaned closer. “I’m sorry, Hadassah. I don’t understand.”
Hadassah glanced over to see Red surreptitiously listening. She trusted the bartender not to spread rumors about her, of course. Discretion of the staff and clientele was paramount at Sanctuary. Still, did she want Red knowing all her personal business?
She drained her wine and got off the stool. “This is a conversation I think we need to have in private.”
Chapter Seven
“This is not where I was expecting you to take me.” Yael looked around the park she’d gone to with Hadassah.
A few blocks from Sanctuary, the park was a lovely space. It featured a fountain, benches, flower-lined paths, shade trees. Yael had anticipated Hadassah would take her to one of those upstairs rooms. There didn’t seem to be any place for that sort of intimate activity here at all. What, then, did Hadassah want from her?
“Can I buy you an ice cream?” Hadassah pointed toward one of the kiosks.
Yael put a hand on her belly. It was empty. Thanks to the hours she’d worked earlier, her wallet wasn’t…but it could be again, soon, if she wasn’t careful with how she spent the contents. “If you want to. Of course. Thank you.”
Together, they ordered cones heaped with hand-scooped ice cream and took them to a shaded bench out of the way from the main path. Yael consumed hers quickly, Hadassah less so, and then tossed hers into the nearby garbage can before she’d fully finished it. Yael wiped her lips with the paper napkin that had come with the cone. She waited. There was something coming from Hadassah, she could sense it.
“Look,” Hadassah began, and paused. She blew out a breath and tried again. “Listen…”
Yael laughed. “Which would you like me to do? Look? Or listen?”
“Why did you up and leave me like that?” Hadassah demanded without a hint of humor in her voice.
“We had finished what we were there to do,” Yael said, but quietly. Gently. Aware that there was more to Hadassah’s question than the words themselves. She hadn’t known it at the time, but she did now.
Hadassah huffed and shifted on the bench. She twisted her body to face Yael’s. “You didn’t even ask for my number.”
“Would you like me to have it?” Yael felt the square brick of her phone in her back pocket. She had no idea how long it would function without her paying the bill, but it was still working for now.
“Do you want it?” Hadassah sounded frustrated.
Yael had observed human interactions for a long time from her place in the demon realm, and she’d been witness to them from an even closer place once the witch had summoned her. She knew emotions were often not rational or reasonable or logical. Knowing and feeling, though, were two different things.
“Having your phone number would allow me to contact you without finding you randomly at Sanctuary,” Yael said. “And if you had mine, you could do the same.”
“That’s the point, yes.”
“Then yes. I would like your number.” Yael pulled out her phone.
Before she could swipe the screen to type in whatever numbers Hadassah was going to share, a shadow fell across them. She looked up to see a figure silhouetted, backlit so it was difficult to see the face. It was male though. And big.
“Jackie. The fuck are you doing here? Why haven’t you been answering my messages? It’s been like, a couple of fucking weeks.” His voice was rough. Hard. Barely restrained fury radiated off him.
Yael’s stolen heart pounded. She’d run, but not far enough to avoid running into someone who’d known this body, apparently. He moved closer, menacing her.
“Answer me,” the man said.
Incredibly, Hadassah got to her feet. “Hey. Buddy. Back off.”
“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to my girl.”
Hadassah let out a small, surprised noise. “What, now?”
“I’m not your girl.” It was all Yael could think of to say. She had no idea who this man was. She’d taken the body, not the memories.
The man took a step closer. “I told you, you’ll always be my girl. Just because we broke up—”
“Back off,” Hadassah repeated, venom in her tone. She lifted something toward him. “I will zap you straight to PissYourPants Town.”<
br />
For all his swagger, the guy seemed at least smart enough to know when he was being faced with a legitimate threat. He backed off, hands up. “Chill, bitch.”
“I might just zap you for that little endearment too.” Hadassah held up the square device in her hand.
“Fine. Whatever. Call me,” the man shot back at Yael as he took another few steps back before turning on his heel. In the sunlight, he was revealed to be in his early thirties. Well-worn. He cast a baleful look at both of them over his shoulder but headed off down the path without causing any more trouble.
“You’re shaking.” Hadassah slid onto the bench next to Yael and put an arm around her. “He’s gone. It’s okay.”
Yael’s teeth chattered. Her fists clenched. Acid filled her gut, the taste of it raw and biting on her tongue. She tried to draw in a breath but felt too suffocated.
“Hey. Hey, it’s all right.” Hadassah rubbed Yael’s arm and pressed her lips gently to her temple.
The warmth of her breath helped ease some of the icy chill that had frozen Yael in place. Yael leaned into that comfort, that warmth, closing her eyes. Hadassah was barely less than a stranger, but she felt like an eternity of solace.
“I never…” Yael’s voice cracked and broke. She opened her eyes.
Hadassah pulled away to look at her. “You never what?”
Yael shook her head, incapable of putting into words the emotions sweeping over her. She’d “never” a lot of things—never felt. Never thought. Never wanted.
Never needed.
Silently, Hadassah again embraced her. They sat together on the park bench, their hips touching. Yael sighed.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Hadassah said after a few minutes had passed.
Yael twisted to face her. “We are strangers. You should mean no more to me than a stranger.”
“This is true.” One side of Hadassah’s mouth curled downward as she fought a frown.
“And yet…”
“And yet,” Hadassah urged.
Yael stood and took a few steps back from her. “What is happening with us, Hadassah?”
“I don’t know.” Hadassah stood, too, but didn’t advance on Yael. She stood her own ground, her posture straight and tall, but her eyes and mouth soft and vulnerable. “I’m willing to find out though. Are you?”
Love, Blood, and Sanctuary Page 14