Page 25 of Marcus-stiltskin

“Living in the trailer park forever.”

I’m about to press because I can’t help myself when Darla asks us to pause what we’re doing and focus on her. Alyssa pulls out her third peanut butter sandwich. God, to have the metabolism of a teenager.

We spend the rest of the afternoon analyzing the cards. To my surprise, the kids are pretty astute with their observations. Even Mariah “I’m not bragging about being cheer captain” has some insightful things to say about the connections between the pictures and the words.

“It’s getting late, and y’all,” she looks at me and grins, “well, most of y’all have homework. Tonight, you’ll need to start working on your pouches. Even if you don’t get it done, you need to put your deck under your pillow. That deck needs to make it back here tomorrow. We’ll be working on card divination for the next few weeks. Until then, make good choices.”

The kids begin to gather up their belongings. Only Alyssa lingers. As the last of the kids hurries off, Darla pulls out a shopping bag from under the table and hands it to her. “If you need anything else, let me know, okay?”

Alyssa nods and hurries off with the bag.

I’m about to ask what that’s all about when Darla turns to me with a smile. “How do you feel now that you’ve been to your first session?”

“Old, so very old.”

Darla laughs. “It’ll get easier as you get to know them better.”

“Yeah, Alyssa was a big help. I’ll be honest, I don’t know anything about divination or tarot.”

She smiles, “Don’t worry, stick with us another few weeks and you’ll be an expert.”

I bet I’ll be an expert in being old and out of touch, but I just smile. It’s kind of her, but there’s no way I’m going to wrap my head around being a witch in the next few weeks but we can pretend.

Chapter Ten

In Which Men Are Confusing

Tuesday morning, I head over to Marcus’s just a few minutes before nine, reluctant, but not willing to ghost, if nothing else for Lugh’s sake. There’s no answer at the front door, so I take my chances with Ramona and let myself in the side gate. I find Marcus standing with a couple of Dvergar men outside the small back door Willow escaped from.

I feel like an idiot as a small bolt of excitement fills my belly at the sight of Marcus standing and talking with the other men. “Sorry to interrupt,” I say as I come up behind him. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Hey, haven’t we met before?” one of the Dvergar men asks me.

“Steely?” asks another man before I can answer the first. It’s not the first time I’ve been recognized in public, and honestly, if anyone was going to recognize me, it’d be the Dvergar.

They are super reclusive and don’t leave the mines much, so once they knew it was a possibility, the men of the mine looked for all sorts of excuses to have us do private shows at their compound. Darla even told us their event planner was very closeto booking us for a baby shower before one of the human women that work their private brothel intervened.

Being recognized may not be a big deal to me, but I can almost feel the tension roll off of Marcus.

“Only sometimes,” I tell him with a quick smile and a wink before turning back to Marcus.

Marcus frowns and turns to me. “There’s coffee upstairs. We’re almost done here. I’ll be up there as soon as I can.”

“Sounds good, Sergeant,” I can’t help but tease before heading back inside.

I go upstairs and make myself a cup of coffee then start to look for Freddie K. He’s not in the great room.

“Freddie K.!” I call out, hoping he'd pop up on his own.

No such luck. Immediately, I get a picture in my mind of what seems like a giant bed.

“I can’t go in there. It would be rude to just bust into Marcus’s room.” I say out loud.

Apparently, he can hear me, too, or maybe the things I say create pictures in his mind. Again I get the picture of the giant bed. There’s no sign of Marcus anywhere, so I take a chance and open the door closest to the kitchen.

With the movers still a few days away, the room Marcus sleeps in is still very Spartan. A few large suitcases take up one side, while a mattress and box springs are centered on one wall but lay directly on the floor. His bed is a nest of plain blue pillows with plain blue sheets and a blue comforter crumpled up at one end.

Freddie K. is laying in his favorite position, all four paws in the air, in the middle of a king-sized bed. An image of me holding him comes to my mind and I sigh.

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