Soulmated

by Diane Darcy

  Maybe she should say it was going to her heart, because her head was telling her that she needed to be careful.

  Yep, it was definitely her heart she had to watch out for.

  Her phone rang, a welcome distraction. She picked it up to see the shop had sent a call from Mrs. Miller directly through. Perfect. A little lightheartedness was exactly what she needed in her life right now. She answered. “Mrs. Miller? How are you?”

  “Oh, my goodness. You are good, Lena. You knew it was me!”

  Lena didn't bother to tell her about the marvels of Caller ID. “Yes, well, how can I help you today?”

  “It's about my older sister, Lillian.”

  “The one who passed away?”

  Mrs. Miller made a noise of approval. “Yes, that's her.”

  “What about her?”

  “I think she’s come back!” Mrs. Miller said excitedly.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I've been thinking about her a lot lately, and then just this morning, I was fixing my hair, and noticed that my Aqua Net hairspray had been moved to the opposite side of the sink.”

  “It couldn't have been Mr. Miller?”

  “Of course not! What need would he have to move my hairspray? No, it was definitely Lillian. She loved that stuff, and lacquered her hair to the point that I once saw her come out the other side of a windstorm, without a hair out of place.”

  “That seals it then. She's definitely back.”

  Mrs. Miller squealed and, chuckling, Lena had to hold the phone away from her ear for a moment.

  “What do you suppose she wants?”

  “The last time I felt her, she was quite distressed over the way she treated you. If I'm right, and I usually am, she is definitely here to make amends.”

  Mrs. Miller's breath left her in a rush. “Oh, thank you, Lena. That is exactly what I needed to hear! I have got to call Sarah and tell her everything.”

  “Any time. I’m glad I could help.”

  Lena was smiling when she got off the phone.

  “Lena DeVille?”

  Startled, she turned to see a tall, pale, dark-haired man, well-built, and attractive. Someone she’d never seen in her entire life.

  “Do I know you?” It wasn’t like she went around advertising her name. The sign on the gypsy wagon said Madam DeVille and she and her mother and grandmother all used the same name, depending on who worked that day.

  “You are Lena DeVille?”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood up a bit, just enough to assure her that her radar was pinging. “Who wants to know?”

  The man took a step backward, put a hand to his chest, and bent forward slightly, bowing. “My apologies. You read a fortune for a colleague of mine, and I was told if I was ever in town I should get my fortune told as well, as his came true. You told him he would be successful in business, and he doubled his intake that year. It was actually quite amazing.”

  He chuckled. “Of course, I recognize that it was probably simply the power of suggestion, but still, I know my friend will be thrilled to hear I stopped by. I thought, why not?”

  “When was this?” Lena asked. She didn’t usually use her real name, but upon occasion it did slip out.

  “I don’t know, two years ago, maybe?”

  She didn’t bother asking his colleague’s name. She’d seen so many people in the past months alone, and very few stuck in her mind as the years went by.

  Remembering the truck that needed fixing, she smiled brightly. “You are most welcome. Just step inside, and we’ll get started.” She gestured him into her caravan.

  The man entered her studio and glanced around at the plush red bench seats, knickknacks on the shelves, and plates along one wall.

  Colorful wine bottles in various sizes were lined against the other. Grandma filled them with water and herbs and sold them to tourists as love potions upon occasion.

  Lena didn’t think this man would be interested.

  Blinds covered the windows, and the curtains were made out of sheer red scarves. There was a table for two that she gestured toward. “Sit, please. Make yourself comfortable.”

  The stranger sat on the plush bench she’d indicated. Lena took her customary seat across the table and moved her crystal ball to the center. She placed her Tarot cards to one side, and said, “It’s forty dollars, please.”

  “Of course.” He chuckled. “Better to collect up front in case someone doesn’t care for the future you foretell?”

  She fake smiled. “Something like that.”

  The man fished the money out of his wallet, and Lena pulled out the small drawer in front of her, dropped it inside, then shut it again. “All right. Open your senses. Tell me, what do you feel more of an affinity for — the crystal ball, the Tarot cards, or perhaps palm reading?” she indicated each.

  The man looked down at the table, and then at her again, his gaze still intense.

  Another frisson ran up her spine, and she was glad she hadn’t shut the door. Not that she ever really did, because not only could it get hot, but leaving it open allowed customers to peek inside to see what was happening, encouraging them to be next in line.

  “Palm reading.”

  Exactly the one she’d hoped he wouldn’t choose, as it involved her holding his hand.

  But, the customer was always right. So she moved aside the crystal ball, set the Tarot cards on the shelf beside her, and held out her hand.

  His was cold. Very cold, in fact. She shivered as the chill transferred to her skin.

  The surrounding casinos were air conditioned and he could have just stepped outside, but the caravan itself had picked up some heat and was nice and cozy.

  “Do you have a medical condition?”

  The man chuckled. “I do, actually.”

  She spread his left hand open with both of hers, rubbed her thumbs along some of the lines on his palm, and made interested noises. Customers always liked that. They liked to think she was seeing something and receiving psychic impressions.

  She usually received responses to her mutterings, such as, “What do you see? What’s there?” Then they usually bent over to try to see for themselves what she was looking at, giving her a chance to explain. But her current customer remained still.

  She used her right index finger to draw along a line on his hand. “This is interesting,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she glanced up to see something unnerving in the man’s narrowed eyes.

  She felt she was in the presence of a predator, and she his prey.

  Her throat tightened until she was forced to swallow, the sound loud in the space between them. “Regardless of your condition, it says you’ll have a very long life. In fact, this may be one the longest and strongest life lines I’ve ever seen. At a guess, you’ll live past one hundred.”

  The man chuckled, seeming truly amused. “I would say that is a safe bet.”

  “Ah, your relatives are long-lived.”

  Again, he was amused. “Yes.”

  His dark eyes caught hers again and flickered, and the chills she’d felt earlier blossomed into full blown goose bumps, and she dropped his hand as her stomach churned.

  She quickly stood. “You’re a lucky man. It looks like you’ll be lucky in love, in business, and you’ll have a long life.” She took a tentative step toward the door, abandoning any attempt at drawing out the conversation.

  “But a warning.” The words popped out as he stood, and her sense of danger increased.

  “You need to rethink some of your decisions, else place yourself in danger and risk everything you have.” She kept talking, the unexpected words pouring out of her even as she took another step toward the entrance of her caravan, hoping the presence of other people would keep her safe.

  His hand shot out and grasped her wrist. “You can do better than that, Ms. Lena DeVille.” His speech was sharp, and the sound of her name cut as deep as the cold that penetrated her body.

  That fast, she knew he
r life was in danger. She tried to wrench her wrist away, but the man held fast and pulled her toward him.

  “Let go. What do you want?”

  “It seems you’re meddling in things that are none of your business. Add to that the fact that with you gone the wolf will be devastated and of no use to anyone —”

  The wolf? William? She drew in a breath to scream, and the man quickly placed a hand over her mouth and swung her around, away from anyone who might be watching. He turned her head to the side, the pressure slowly increasing.

  Was he trying to break her neck? Savoring the process?

  She grabbed one of the glass bottles off the shelf and, rather than swing it at him, broke the bottom against the table like a bar fighter, instantly lifting it so she could stab at him with the ragged glass edge.

  The liquid inside splashed out, drenching them both as well as the table, and he released her.

  She swung around and held up her weapon just as the man started to scream.

  Parts of his formerly pale face turned bright red as his skin sizzled. The sound and sight of it was horrible — he was melting right in front of her like a Wizard of Oz nightmare.

  Panic washed over her and, horrified, she wiped at her face and looked at the skin on her arms, expecting to see something similar happening to herself. How could her grandmother have put acid in the decorative bottles? As far as she knew, they’d all been filled with water!

  But nothing was happening to Lena. Her skin looked perfect. Undamaged.

  Meanwhile, the man let out an inhuman screech. Inside his open, screaming mouth, his white pointed teeth looked cruelly sharp as if he’d filed them to points. She shuddered and moved out of his way as he rushed out of the caravan and into the crowd.

  What in the name of all that was holy!

  Shaking, she pulled the door of the caravan closed and locked it. She checked the windows to be sure they were secure, then made sure the door on the other end was locked as well.

  She looked at her skin again. Once she confirmed that it wasn’t burning, she quickly grabbed a towel to dry off her face, hands, and the table.

  Brushing glass off the seat, she collapsed on the red cushioned bench and let out a shaky breath.

  What had just happened? Had she had the bad fortune to be targeted by some sort of a random psychopath?

  Maybe.

  But she couldn’t help but think that she’d been on the scene of two murders in the last two days. And the man knew William.

  With a shaky hand, she scrolled to his recently saved phone number and pushed connect.

  “Lena?” His voice was warm, smooth as whiskey, and he sounded pleased.

  “William?” Her voice came out weak and shaky, but she felt better just hearing him on the line.

  “Lass? What is it?”

  She cleared her throat before speaking again. “William, a man just came in to get his fortune read.” She took a deep breath. “I think he was going to hurt me. Kill me. Something.”

  “Are ye on Fremont Street? At yer caravan?” The honey-smooth voice had disappeared and he was all business.

  But she was grateful for it, happy he was taking over, because she didn’t know what to do. “I am.”

  “Where are ye, exactly?”

  “I locked myself inside.”

  “Good, doonae answer to anyone but me. I’ll be there shortly.”

  “Okay.”

  He disconnected, and she tossed her phone onto the bench. She thought about cleaning up the mess, cleaning up the glass, but decided against it. She wanted William to see it, so he could see what she was talking about when she told him about the fight.

  This was crazy.

  This was insane.

  Being alone while she waited for William was nerve-racking, but she wasn’t opening that door.

  She leaned her head back against the wall. She’d known the man for a day. When had he become the one she turned to in a crisis?

  Chapter 21

  A few minutes later Lena opened the blinds on her caravan windows and looked in every direction. She didn't spot the man who'd attacked her, anyone giving her wagon any undue attention, or William.

  She was nervous and panicky, so she did what she usually did in stressful situations and called her older sister.

  When the phone rang, Lena immediately realized she didn't want to pull Olivia into the weirdness of the last twenty-four hours.

  Her sister would freak.

  She almost hung up, but Olivia answered too quickly. “Hello? Lena?”

  Lena took a deep breath and tried to sound normal. “Hey, how goes it?”

  “Oh, right, way to be cavalier. I’ve called you three times, and I want to hear about what happened last night.”

  “About the date?” She wondered if Olivia had spoken to their mother.

  “Of course, about the date!”

  With a last look out the window, Lena blew out a breath and sank down onto one of the cushioned seats. “It was good. And the food was good, too.”

  “And?”

  “And, what?”

  “And, what was he like? I mean, you don't sound very enthused. Did he eat with his mouth open or something? Because if he did, keep in mind, he's a man, and he can be trained. You should have seen Sean when I first got hold of him.”

  “William had perfect table manners.”

  “Oh. So, what's the problem? Wasn’t there any chemistry? Did he post a fake picture?”

  Lena's heartbeat was slowing to its usual rhythm and, even as she kept darting glances out the window, she could feel herself coming down from the shock. “Plenty of chemistry. The photo was real. If anything he looked better in person. Tall, dark, and handsome.”

  “Hmm. Was he arrogant? Because sometimes people act that way to cover up nerves, you know? Maybe a second date could help you get to know the real him.”

  Lena laughed, a touch hysterically.

  After a pause, Olivia said, “Okay, just tell me what the problem is then. You sound weird.”

  Lena’s laughter died down slowly, and she appreciated the release of tension. “You know, I'm just not used to dating, and I just talked to William and he's coming over to the caravan so, I guess I'm sort of nervous.”

  “That explains why you're acting strange. Do you need any advice?”

  “No, I get the impression he hasn't dated for a while either, so I think this is kind of new to both of us. The blind leading the blind, you know?”

  “Oh, good. I like the sounds of that. You don’t want to deal with another player. Don't worry so much, and stay out of your head. Try not to over think it, and just have fun.”

  Lena chuckled again, and this time it sounded more natural. “Fun. Gotcha.”

  “What did you do last night? Just dinner? Or did you go out afterward?”

  “Actually, he works at The Hemlock Hotel in security, so we went over there for a while.”

  “That's great!”

  “Yup. We had a good time.”

  Lena thought about the murder, the interviews, the weirdness, but kept it to herself. Mom would probably spill the beans, but Lena didn’t want to deal with her sister’s freak out when she was dealing with her own.

  Besides, it felt like she was protecting her. When all this was over with, they could have a heart-to-heart and Olivia could freak out to her hearts content.

  She spotted William the moment he came into view. He wore a crisp charcoal-gray suit and an expression that told everyone to get out of his way. His long strides closed the distance between them as he weaved past street artists, magicians, and the flat out weirdos that populated the area.

  “I see William. I've got to go.”

  “Okay, thanks for calling. Keep me updated!”

  “Will do.”

  Lena hung up the phone and opened the door just as William arrived.

  Chapter 22

  William studied her from the top of her head down to her feet, and then back up again. “Are ye all righ
t, lass?”

  She nodded. She felt a bit weak, but at least the actual shaking had stopped. “I’m okay.”

  She moved aside to let him enter, and he stepped in, completely dominating the small space.

  He glanced at the glass on the floor, then back to her again. “Tell me, everything. ”

  She did, showing him how the man had grabbed her wrist and held a hand over her mouth. “He was twisting my head. I honestly think he was going to break my neck.” She showed him how she’d grabbed one of the bottles and broken it.

  “William, he knew who I was. He knew my name. I go by Madam DeVille when I’m working here. But he called me Lena.”

  “Describe him.”

  “Tall, dark hair, pale skin, he was good-looking. His eyes were dark and he had an air of menace about him.” She almost left out the part about the pointed teeth because could she really have seen that?

  “What is it?”

  She hesitantly added, “I think he filed his teeth. They were pointed, sharp. It was crazy.”

  “Ye should never have let him in here.”

  She made a scoffing noise. “I’m running a business. I didn’t know in advance he would try to kill me!”

  He shot her a frustrated look and Lena said, “Nothing like this has ever happened before. I think this has something to do with your investigation. He said … he said with me gone the wolf would be of no use. I think he meant you.”

  “No doubt.” He exhaled a gust of breath and bent to pick up a few shards of glass. “What were the contents of the bottle, lass?”

  “For one horrifying moment, I thought that it might be acid. The man’s skin started to burn, and I got it all over me as well and nothing happened. I think it’s just water, with a few herbs mixed in.”

  William leaned down to pick up the bottom piece of the broken bottle. There was still some liquid inside. He sniffed it, then stuck a finger in it and tasted it. “Tis water.”

  “Can someone be allergic to water?”

  “Do ye happen to know if it’s been blessed?”

  “Blessed?” She stared at him for a moment. “What, like blessed by a priest? Why would my grandmother fill bottles with holy water? You’re joking, right?”