Page 2 of Wolf's Mark

“I’m perfectly comfortable.”

“Uh-huh. In gray scrubs and nasty tennis shoes. That sounds comfy to me. Humor me and I’ll take you to get some ice cream.” She even had the nerve to use a funny voice at the end like she was bribing a child to be good.

If I didn’t truly adore the woman, I’d walk home. After changing back into my beloved tennis shoes.

“We’re here. Suck it up,” she said.

“Mattie.”

“Don’t Mattie me.”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes, which she usually did at least twice whenever we got together. Sadly, our work ethics and long hours prevented us from doing that very often.

“Fine. But I will get you for this.”

“There you go,” she cooed. “I love it when you get angry.”

The woman had no idea just how angry I could get.

She threw open the glass door and a small bell jingled in the process. The small shop faced a busy downtown street on a bustling Saturday, but there were no other customers inside. Just creepy music and a round table covered in a blue, gauzy-looking tablecloth that had stars on it.

“This is a joke,” I told her. My teeth were gritted. The place was freezing.

“Oh, come on. Look around you. It’s quaint.”

“Quaint? The pink building with pretty little flowers in flower boxes across the street is quaint. This is hokey-pokey fake.” There had to be two dozen candles lit and flickering. My guess was whatever the horrific scent was, it was meant to be soothing.

“Just don’t embarrass me.”

“Me with you? I think you mean the other way around, darlin’.”

My bestie didn’t have a chance to quip her sarcastic response. A draped doorway was suddenly thrown open, a girl with long raven hair walking out with a bit too much flair. She was right out of the stuff I’d seen in the movies.

“How may I help you?” She had a lovely voice and she was so young it threw me. At least she wasn’t dressed like a gypsy, wearing jeans and a flowered top like a teenager would. Wait a minute. I was going to have my future read by a girl who was much younger than me?

“I don’t think so,” I said as I tried to turn around to flee. There was something about the moment and even the thought of going through the experience that troubled me tremendously. Maybe it was about the warning my grandmother had given me after ceasing her session.

“The cards are evil for you, my child.”

Evil.

I’d never thought I’d hear my grandmother say something like that.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Mattie barked like a drill sergeant.

She jerked my arm again and I just knew I was going to have bruises come tomorrow. “Ouch.”

“I’ll bop you in the face next time. We’re here for a reading. It’s my friend’s birthday. I’m paying for it,” my bestie announced, like it was something important.

And the girl couldn’t care less. She simply motioned me to the table while speaking to Mattie. “That will be thirty-four fifty.”

“Ouch,” I said again. I gingerly sat down on the chair. I don’t know what I was afraid of, but my teeth were definitely chattering. Maybe it was because the air conditioning unit was on full blast.

Mattie glared at me and pulled out her wallet.

When we were all paid up, the girl pulled a set of cards from behind the small counter. I could tell she was bored with her work and wasn’t taking the reading any more seriously than I was. Still, with the gothic music and the stench in the shop, I half expected to see mist coming from the shadowed corners of the walls.

“What is your name?” she asked.

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