Page 3 of When Wishes Bleed

“The occasional tryst might be overlooked, but you know that to be with anyone outside The Gallows means you can never return. Without your House, your power would dwindle. Do you wish to lose your flame?”

She shook her head. She had to know that whatever fling she’d been having with the boy couldn’t last, but forbidden fruit was a temptation some couldn’t force themselves to turn away from.

I softened my voice, hoping she could see reason. “What about your life? Do you wish to have it snuffed out?”

The girl began to cry in earnest. She knew I couldn’t and wouldn’t lie to her, but the feelings she harbored for the malicious young man were as strong as his will to break her.

“I can see his will,” I revealed, “and its only purpose is to hurt you.” The truth often stung.

Her eyes snapped to mine. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“He will kill you. If you see him again, you will die by his hand.”

She shook her head defiantly and wiped her nose. “He would never hurt me.”

“It’s the truth. Now, you must make an important choice. The most urgent of your life. Will you heed my warning, or accept your fate?”

She pushed by me and flung open the back door. A loud slam rattled the walls. I almost chastised her for rudeness, but in her defense, her reading was rather shocking. Most of the time, I held a sliver of hope that the person I read for might change their fate, but I didn’t think that would hold true in her case.

If she went to him tonight as planned, this moment – and I – would be one of the last things she recalled before death claimed her.

I hadn’t finished clearing the tapers away before the boy from outside entered the cabin. His cloak and robe reflected the blistering color of the House of Fire, but the clothes weren’t his. He had no flame. How strange... I’d never seen him before, and I thought I’d seen all the witches at one point or another. Still, there was something familiar about him, although I couldn’t put my finger on it. His eyes were downcast as they searched my cabin.

“Would you like something sharp to dig the bark out from beneath your fingernails?” I asked, returning the wax and basket of holders to their rightful place.

He bristled. “I want you to read my fate.”

“What payment do you offer?”

He fished into the left pocket of his cloak and withdrew a crystal. “Amethyst.”

I plucked the pale purple stone from his hand. It was as big as my palm. I would never decline such a beautiful crystal. “Tea, wax, or bones?”

“Tea,” he answered quickly. “Can you hurry? I need to get back soon.”

“Before someone discovers you’ve come to me?”

“Exactly.” His eyes darted from item to item in my sparse kitchen as I moved through the space.

I gestured toward the countertop. “Choose a cup and saucer, then place three spoons-full of tea leaves into the cup. I’ll pour the water.”

He moved to the counter and quickly scooped three lumps of leaves into a cup. His eyes flicked to me. The pupils were strange. Not round, but slitted… like a snake’s.

I crossed my arms and leaned my hip on the counter. “Why did you come here?”

“I’m sorry,” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“You clearly don’t want to be here.”

“I need my fate. Fast. Nothing more. And I don’t owe you an explanation beyond that, Daughter of Fate.”

Kettle in hand, I paused over his cup. “You would be wise to be more respectful.”

He inclined his head and muttered an apology. “It’s just that I’ve been plagued of late. Strange dreams. Voices…”

I let the water flow into the plain white tea cup he’d chosen. All my teacups were white to the common eye, much like the tapers. But each had a distinct handle, and each chose the recipient of the fortune in a like way, as well. This cup reflected change. His life was about to be dramatically altered.

He watched the surface as the leaves swirled, sank, and rose. His eyes flicked to me, but quickly darted away. “What now?”

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