Page 17 of Fool Me Twice

Cane smiled. “You’re welcome here anytime, sweetheart.”

Hart huffed, turning his back on Cane and looking down at the ring, trying to get his bearings. He could feel those eyes boring into him still, the scent of smoke driving him insane.

“Right, so how about I—” Fix started, but Hart whipped around and shook his head.

“I’d like to go first,” he said. “I have other obligations today, so if the curse isn’t one of mine, I’d like to get to those in a timely manner.”

“Well we wouldn’t want to stop you from being timely,” Cane said. “Do what you have to do.”

Hart wanted to snap back again but swallowed the words down. His jaw ached from how tense he was as he walked over to the large gray desk and placed his leather bag on top of it.

“Have you got a mirror?” he asked, shoulders tensing when Cane snorted in response.

“Not in here,” Cane said. “I’m hot enough that I don’t need one.”

Hart bristled at the words, but opened a padded compartment of his bag and pulled out a square mirror with a simple metal stand. He placed it on the desk in front of Cane and walked around the other side to where Cane was seated.

Cane caught his eye and winked, making Hart look down and bite his lip to stop himself from cursing at him. He couldn’t wait to be out. Just one diagnostic procedure and he could leave. He just had to power through.

He pulled out a small speaker and connected it to his phone, looking for his favorite piece of music. He placed the speaker on the desk next to the mirror and played a soft tune as quietly as it would go while still being audible in the room. He took out a small essential oil diffuser and a few vials of his preferred oils, like bergamot and sandalwood. They usually helped get his clients where he needed them to be to diagnose them. Finally, he turned to Fix and motioned toward the light switch on the wall next to him.

Fix nodded and flicked the switch, drenching the small office in purplish gray light. It was just enough for Cane to be able to see himself in the mirror, but dark enough to stop everything else in the room from distracting him.

“Care to explain what’s happening?” Cane asked, tensing up now that things were straying outside the realm of his knowledge.

Hart nodded as he worked to set everything up.

“My diagnostic procedure looks slightly like hypnosis,” he said, pouring a few drops of each oil into the diffuser before turning it on. “Bergamot and sandalwood scents help relax clients and open their minds to see things their eyes wouldn’t usually be able to see. The music is there to put you at ease and let your mind drift away from thinking of everyday issues.”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to walk around the desk. He stood behind Cane’s chair and reached out to position him so he was fully facing himself in the mirror. Cane’s shoulders felt hot and hard under his hands. Hart frowned over the fact that his hands were shaking slightly and he balled them into fists the moment he had Cane where he needed him.

“I don’t think I like being manhandled,” Cane said casually, not making any attempt to change his position.

“You will be looking at yourself in the mirror,” Hart said, ignoring the commentary. “You will listen to my voice and allow yourself to see things in and around you that aren’t really there in this plane of existence.”

“Right,” Cane said, taking it surprisingly seriously.

“If you want to close your eyes at first, that might help you get into the right headspace.” Hart suggested what he always did, knowing how incredibly difficult it was for most people to get to the point where their minds would allow information to process on a different level than usual.

“You’re the boss,” Cane said with a smirk before closing his eyes and relaxing his shoulders.

Hart looked up and realized Fix had left them alone in the room, his large frame visible just to the left of the window.

It slammed into Hart all at once. He was alone in an enclosed space with someone he truly didn’t want to even be close to. He could smell his woodsy, smoky scent and feel the expansion of his chest whenever Cane took a breath. Hart took a step back, putting some more space between them just so he could think clearly.

He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, relaxing his posture and getting himself into the right headspace as well. He needed to lead this. He had to guide Cane to the answers he needed to find, and being so tightly wound wasn’t going to help that.

“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes,” he said softly, getting his voice to the correct pitch. Deep, audible over the music but not overpowering it. Floating on the gentle, repetitive rhythm of it.

“You will listen to my voice,” he said. “It’ll guide you to look inside. To search for answers we need.”

Cane looked focused. His brows were relaxed, but Hart could see movement behind his closed lids. Rapid and fleeting.

“I want you to take a slow, deep breath. As deep as it will go. As deep as your lungs and your ribcage will allow you to expand them.”

He heard the intake of breath starting, slow and measured as Cane’s frame grew outward.

“I want you to think of what your body is doing right now,” Hart said. “It’s taking from the environment. Keeping exactly what it needs to function. I want you to think of the things your body needs and is getting from your surroundings.”

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