Dark Harmony
Page 44
I’m still staring at the sign.
Belleby & Sons, LLC
Seer
Forewarned is Forearmed
I shiver a bit. My stepfather was a seer. He worked in a place just like this one, dealing out fortunes to the richest and most powerful people—people who were often on the wrong side of the law.
That was how I first found the Bargainer. A client had given my stepfather Des’s card, and he kept it close at hand, ready to call on the Night King if he found himself in a tight situation. As fate would have it, I was that tight situation, and the Bargainer was my saving grace.
The floor is eerily silent, all except a distant moan. I rub my arms.
Those body shots are going to have to be the most delicious mouthfuls of tequila in the world.
Des places a hand on my back and leans over to kiss my temple. That’s the closest he comes to apologizing for the rotten trick he’s played on me. He leads me down the hall, and the place seems all but abandoned.
“Business is really booming,” I say.
Des’s mouth quirks, but the rest of his face is stoic.
We stop in front of a door. Behind it the moaning is louder.
Whoever is foreseeing futures here, it sounds like they’re busy ruining someone else life.
Maybe we should just come back later …
Without any warning, the Bargainer blasts the door open.
“Knock knock.”
Inside the room, a naked woman shrieks from where she lays sprawled on the desk, the man on top of her scrambling to disentangle himself.
“Oh shit,” the man says, catching sight of Des. He rapidly tries to shove his junk back into his slacks.
Just—ew.
The mostly naked woman screams again, trying (pretty unsuccessfully) to cover herself up.
I guess that explains the moans …
“I thought you said we had an appointment?” I hiss at Des.
My mate doesn’t look at me, instead shaking his head at the man. “You know better than to mix business with pleasure, Collin.”
Guess that’s the seer. Color me unimpressed.
The Bargainer waves his hand idly, and the clothes the woman is trying to put on fit themselves to her body. She yelps, then scrambles from the room.
“Damnit,” the man says, watching the woman leave before turning his attention to Des. “You could’ve called.”
He has a point—after all, forewarned is forearmed.
“My clients always say that,” Des says. “Problem is, when I call, they have a bad habit of disappearing, and I have a bad habit of finding them and adding interest to their bill. Really, this is better for all parties involved.”
Collin grabs his discarded shirt and slips it back on.
“What do you want?” he asks, disgruntled. He buttons up his shirt and leans back against the desk.
Going to need a Bible and some holy water to clean the deeds off that piece of furniture.
I feel the breath of Des’s magic leave him. A moment later, it slides the seer’s shirtsleeve up, revealing two jagged tally marks.
I step forward, instantly curious. It’s rare to see one of Des’s clients with more than one of his tattoos. Probably means that Des trusts Collin.
“Remind me again how many months you’ve had these?” the Bargainer asks.
The man pulls his sleeve back down, fidgeting with the cuff; I get a glimpse then of how young he really is. Mid-twenties maybe? And now that I’m looking for it, there are indications that he’s uncomfortable in the clothes he wears.
After what we walked in on, I wasn’t expecting that from this guy.
“I’m willing to pay off my debt,” Collin says. “Just tell me what you want.”
Now I hear Collin’s rough-around-the-edges accent. A scenario takes shape: a kid with promise but not a lot of options approaches the Bargainer. The Bargainer sees something of himself in the young man, so he helps him a little more than his other clients. And thus the young seer has an inspiring rags-to-riches tale and only two debts to show for it.
Collin’s eyes move to me, and there they catch.
“Who’s this?” He asks with a tad more interest than is professional.
“It doesn’t matter who she is. What matters is what you can do for her,” Des says.
The seer’s face turns cocky. He gestures for me to come forward.
“Wash your goddamn hands first,” Des growls. “You’re not touching her after having your fingers in some broad’s pussy.”
Collin raises his eyebrow but gets up. “I see our time apart hasn’t made you any nicer.”
Des’s eyes flick briefly around the room. “I see our time apart has made you richer.”
The seer grunts. Giving me a little nod, he leaves the room.
I turn to the Bargainer. “Why are we doing this?”
Really don’t want to be here.
“Cherub, I personally promise that if Collin does anything you don’t like—”
I open my mouth.
“—other than foreseeing your future—”
Damnit. I close my mouth.
“—I will personally gut him from navel to throat.”
Jesus.
“Well, I’ll collect my last favor from him, then I’ll gut him navel to throat,” Des amends.
“No one needs to gut anyone else. I just—”
The door opens, and the rest of my words die away as Collin returns.
“All right,” the seer says, “where were we?” His eyes fall to me, brightening with interest. “Oh, right, you want a reading.”
“I don’t want a reading,” I say, just because I figure that point needs clarifying.
Collin turns to Des.
“Give her a reading.”
Ugh.
The seer clears his throat. “Okay. Please, take a seat ma’am.” He gestures to a nearby couch.
I’m sure I look like a petulant child as I take a seat. I mean, I get it, just because my stepfather was Satan (that’s not literal—I’ve heard Satan is actually a lot nicer than Hugh Anders), doesn’t mean all seers suck.
But it also doesn’t mean I have to be a good sport about this.
Collin sits down next to me, and Des moves to the wall across from the couch, leaning against it and folding his arms, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his AC/DC shirt.
Seriously unfair that the Bargainer can look that tasty even when I’m annoyed at him.
“I’m Collin,” the seer says, drawing my attention back to him. “Figure you ought to know my name before I go peering into your future.”
I’m about to clap back that I already know his name and this sucks and everything sucks, but I force out a smile. “Callie.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Yeah, whatever.
The seer takes my hands, his thumbs stroking my skin in a way that’s not entirely professional. But maybe that’s just me.
I stare down at our hands, and as I look at them, I begin to sense his heartbeat pounding beneath his skin, moving magic with blood. His human power fills my senses.
His ability is strong, staggeringly so.
My eyes flick up to Collin.
I think I’m waiting for incense, incantations—at the very least an open flame or a shallow bowl of water to divine my future from. My stepfather had a bowl he used to carry around that was meant for scrying. He never used it on me—he never dared to face his monstrous deeds head on—but he liked using it with clients.
This seer doesn’t do any of that. He breathes in deeply, his gaze fixed on mine, his eyes searching, searching …
Belleby & Sons, LLC
Seer
Forewarned is Forearmed
I shiver a bit. My stepfather was a seer. He worked in a place just like this one, dealing out fortunes to the richest and most powerful people—people who were often on the wrong side of the law.
That was how I first found the Bargainer. A client had given my stepfather Des’s card, and he kept it close at hand, ready to call on the Night King if he found himself in a tight situation. As fate would have it, I was that tight situation, and the Bargainer was my saving grace.
The floor is eerily silent, all except a distant moan. I rub my arms.
Those body shots are going to have to be the most delicious mouthfuls of tequila in the world.
Des places a hand on my back and leans over to kiss my temple. That’s the closest he comes to apologizing for the rotten trick he’s played on me. He leads me down the hall, and the place seems all but abandoned.
“Business is really booming,” I say.
Des’s mouth quirks, but the rest of his face is stoic.
We stop in front of a door. Behind it the moaning is louder.
Whoever is foreseeing futures here, it sounds like they’re busy ruining someone else life.
Maybe we should just come back later …
Without any warning, the Bargainer blasts the door open.
“Knock knock.”
Inside the room, a naked woman shrieks from where she lays sprawled on the desk, the man on top of her scrambling to disentangle himself.
“Oh shit,” the man says, catching sight of Des. He rapidly tries to shove his junk back into his slacks.
Just—ew.
The mostly naked woman screams again, trying (pretty unsuccessfully) to cover herself up.
I guess that explains the moans …
“I thought you said we had an appointment?” I hiss at Des.
My mate doesn’t look at me, instead shaking his head at the man. “You know better than to mix business with pleasure, Collin.”
Guess that’s the seer. Color me unimpressed.
The Bargainer waves his hand idly, and the clothes the woman is trying to put on fit themselves to her body. She yelps, then scrambles from the room.
“Damnit,” the man says, watching the woman leave before turning his attention to Des. “You could’ve called.”
He has a point—after all, forewarned is forearmed.
“My clients always say that,” Des says. “Problem is, when I call, they have a bad habit of disappearing, and I have a bad habit of finding them and adding interest to their bill. Really, this is better for all parties involved.”
Collin grabs his discarded shirt and slips it back on.
“What do you want?” he asks, disgruntled. He buttons up his shirt and leans back against the desk.
Going to need a Bible and some holy water to clean the deeds off that piece of furniture.
I feel the breath of Des’s magic leave him. A moment later, it slides the seer’s shirtsleeve up, revealing two jagged tally marks.
I step forward, instantly curious. It’s rare to see one of Des’s clients with more than one of his tattoos. Probably means that Des trusts Collin.
“Remind me again how many months you’ve had these?” the Bargainer asks.
The man pulls his sleeve back down, fidgeting with the cuff; I get a glimpse then of how young he really is. Mid-twenties maybe? And now that I’m looking for it, there are indications that he’s uncomfortable in the clothes he wears.
After what we walked in on, I wasn’t expecting that from this guy.
“I’m willing to pay off my debt,” Collin says. “Just tell me what you want.”
Now I hear Collin’s rough-around-the-edges accent. A scenario takes shape: a kid with promise but not a lot of options approaches the Bargainer. The Bargainer sees something of himself in the young man, so he helps him a little more than his other clients. And thus the young seer has an inspiring rags-to-riches tale and only two debts to show for it.
Collin’s eyes move to me, and there they catch.
“Who’s this?” He asks with a tad more interest than is professional.
“It doesn’t matter who she is. What matters is what you can do for her,” Des says.
The seer’s face turns cocky. He gestures for me to come forward.
“Wash your goddamn hands first,” Des growls. “You’re not touching her after having your fingers in some broad’s pussy.”
Collin raises his eyebrow but gets up. “I see our time apart hasn’t made you any nicer.”
Des’s eyes flick briefly around the room. “I see our time apart has made you richer.”
The seer grunts. Giving me a little nod, he leaves the room.
I turn to the Bargainer. “Why are we doing this?”
Really don’t want to be here.
“Cherub, I personally promise that if Collin does anything you don’t like—”
I open my mouth.
“—other than foreseeing your future—”
Damnit. I close my mouth.
“—I will personally gut him from navel to throat.”
Jesus.
“Well, I’ll collect my last favor from him, then I’ll gut him navel to throat,” Des amends.
“No one needs to gut anyone else. I just—”
The door opens, and the rest of my words die away as Collin returns.
“All right,” the seer says, “where were we?” His eyes fall to me, brightening with interest. “Oh, right, you want a reading.”
“I don’t want a reading,” I say, just because I figure that point needs clarifying.
Collin turns to Des.
“Give her a reading.”
Ugh.
The seer clears his throat. “Okay. Please, take a seat ma’am.” He gestures to a nearby couch.
I’m sure I look like a petulant child as I take a seat. I mean, I get it, just because my stepfather was Satan (that’s not literal—I’ve heard Satan is actually a lot nicer than Hugh Anders), doesn’t mean all seers suck.
But it also doesn’t mean I have to be a good sport about this.
Collin sits down next to me, and Des moves to the wall across from the couch, leaning against it and folding his arms, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his AC/DC shirt.
Seriously unfair that the Bargainer can look that tasty even when I’m annoyed at him.
“I’m Collin,” the seer says, drawing my attention back to him. “Figure you ought to know my name before I go peering into your future.”
I’m about to clap back that I already know his name and this sucks and everything sucks, but I force out a smile. “Callie.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Yeah, whatever.
The seer takes my hands, his thumbs stroking my skin in a way that’s not entirely professional. But maybe that’s just me.
I stare down at our hands, and as I look at them, I begin to sense his heartbeat pounding beneath his skin, moving magic with blood. His human power fills my senses.
His ability is strong, staggeringly so.
My eyes flick up to Collin.
I think I’m waiting for incense, incantations—at the very least an open flame or a shallow bowl of water to divine my future from. My stepfather had a bowl he used to carry around that was meant for scrying. He never used it on me—he never dared to face his monstrous deeds head on—but he liked using it with clients.
This seer doesn’t do any of that. He breathes in deeply, his gaze fixed on mine, his eyes searching, searching …
