Page 186 of The Mirror of Beasts

“The Devil usually shows up when there’s a need to break with bad habits or temptation,” I began, watching the line of his lips tighten. I eased into a lighter, supportive tone. “What does that mean to you?”

The digital timer next to me beeped as his hour ran out. I switched it off, then leaned back over the table, trying to catch his eye.

“Does that … resonate with you at all?” I asked him, watching the pain flicker over his face.

Just as I’d suspected, he already knew all of this; the questions he asked over and over, about when he and Olivia would get back together, about what she saw in her new partner—all of them were secondary to the question he was too afraid to ask.

I ignored the meaning of the rest of the cards—and really, Franklin seemed to have a knack for picking the most disastrous ones—and waved a hand over them. “Do you know what these cards say to me, Frankie—can I call you Frankie?”

“Erm—yes?” He leaned forward over the table too, as if expecting me to whisper it in his ear.

“They say that you are a wonderful person who is loved by many in your life,” I told him. “They say that she didn’t break up with you because you aren’t lovable, or because you’re bad in any way. It just wasn’t a good match for either of you, and she cared enough to let you go to find happiness with someone else.”

His lips quivered as he pressed them together. When he sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand over his nose, I knew the arrow had struck true.

A single tear slipped past his defenses, then another.

Oh no, I thought, panic flaring in me. Unsure of what to do as the minutes ticked on, filled with his quiet crying, I reached over and patted him on the head, dying a little inside.

“No … you’re … okay.” Where was Neve when I needed her? “So … be okay. Okay?”

He cleared his throat again, his face pink with the effort to leash his emotions after they’d already escaped.

“They also say that when things don’t work out, it’s usually because there’s something—in this case, someone—better waiting for you,” I told him. “And they want you to release the dream of what could have been, so you’re ready for what’s ahead.”

“They really …” His voice squeaked with emotion, forcing him to clear his throat to lower it. “They really say that?”

No.

“Yes,” I told him. “Is there anything else you’d like to ask them?”

He shook his head, rising slowly from his chair opposite me. He was still silent as he retrieved his schoolbag, but he looked calmer now, at least. “Thanks, Tamsin.”

“No problem,” I said, picking up the big, floppy appointment book. “Same time next week … ?”

“Maybe … I might have to work?” he said, even though both of us knew he didn’t work on Wednesdays.

“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. There went my one regular. “Just text to let me know.”

I waited until he was down the rickety stairs and the front door slammed shut before resting my forehead on the table with a sigh. I felt with my hand along the table, fumbling for my phone to turn off the music.

I needed to start locking up for the day, but the weariness that had been building over the hours—over the last three months—held me there.

The Moon card stared up at me from the floor, where I’d intentionally dropped it earlier. Mocking, almost.

Really, what was the point of going back to the empty apartment? Cabell was gone, locked in a prison of his choosing. Neve and Caitriona were off in Paris, following a lead on Neve’s mom, and they wouldn’t be home for another few days. I’d quickly worn out my welcome visiting Olwen at the pub using the Vein Neve had set up in the apartment. The Bonecutter had advanced me the money I needed to pay off what I owed in back rent and then some, for future finder’s work, just to get me to leave.

I took on as many shifts as I could slinging tarot. It kept me busy, and if there was only one thing I was damn sure of now, it was that my friends would have a real home to return to whenever they needed it.

I drew in a deep breath, still surprised to find it brimming with tangy spices, rather than the stench of dead sea animals. Lobster Larry’s hadn’t survived my time in Avalon, but rather than another seafood restaurant, a taco joint had taken its place. It was strangely reassuring in a way—almost like, if that pattern could be broken, maybe they all could.

Franklin’s.

Mine.

But as it turned out, three months was just enough time to start to lose hope.

Twenty days into March, with the air shedding some of its iciness and the city coming out of hibernation, I was finally starting to accept that the coin hadn’t worked. That I’d done something fatally wrong, or missed some unknown element of the spell.

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