Page 32 of Infernal Hearts

His eyes flit up to me from under his eyebrows. “You’re shitting me. Psychics aren’t real.”

I give him a polite smile and nod. “Not shitting you at all. Things like telekinesis and pyrokinesis? Happen maybe once or twice in a lifetime. But things like mind reading and clairvoyance? Those run rampant. Sure, maybe a cop can always tell when someone is lying or a housewife gets a strong intuition that one of her children is in danger. But every once in a while, you find someone who can actually hear your thoughts or see images of the past or future.”

Jason closes the book and throws it on the table. “Prove it.”

“Got a psychic in town?”

“There’s a little shop near the center of town. I bet you a hundred bucks she’s a fraud.”

I smirk, knowing the odds are in my favor. “I’ll take that bet.”

We put the books back, and the librarian stops us on the way out.

“You sure there isn’t anything else I can help you two find?” She smiles, eyebrows arching over her glasses. “I think I may have a few more books on the supernatural. It’s always been a fascination of mine.”

She was incredibly helpful in the search but terribly nosy the entire time. She may be on to more than she knows at this rate—or at least she would be if she didn’t believe half the lies printed in these books. “Careful, not everything you read is true.” I wave her off, and we go back into the truck.

There aren’t many supernatural auras pulsing around town as we make it down the tiny strip in the center. A couple with small magical abilities—probably latent witches. No vampires out in the middle of the day. It’s a new moon, so werewolves won’t be running rampant.

I gaze into the forest, focusing on what else could be out there. The possibilities could be endless—if only we had a place to start. “I have a feeling most of the creatures will be living deeper in the woods.” Rolling down the window, I put my hand out and take in the cool mountain air.

“I doubtyou’dlive in the middle of the woods. You seem like the type to have a penthouse in the tallest building in the city. It doesn’t get more ostentatious than that.”

I settle deeper into my seat with a sly grin. “Makes for better hosting, too. More impressive for my gentleman callers.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’d settle for a truck stop bathroom.”

I scratch at my cuticles. “Ihavesettled for a truck stop bathroom, and it’s more fun than you think.”

“I’m curious about something.” He looks at me and squints, choosing his words carefully. “Are you stronger after you get down and dirty with someone?”

“Not necessarily. Easier to control, maybe. Can’t say I’ve ever gone long enough to find out what happens if I don’t blow some steam off. Might start flooding purple light out my eyes like the world’s worst wet dream.”

“I hate you.”

“Aw, thank you. I hate you more.”

We drive in silence for a little while longer before pulling up to a shop with a neon hand in the window. We get out and walk up to the rickety porch, the door slowly creaking open and thick clouds of incense assaulting my nostrils.

The shop seems completely empty aside from the rows of crystals and herbs hanging from the ceiling. Rainbows of potions line the walls, along with sigils stitched into rugs on the floors.

“Hello?” My voice carries through the cluttered room. “Anyone here?”

A red-haired woman comes out, dressed in a caftan. “Ah, yes! Welcome, friends! I am Madame Theresa. Have you come for a reading?”

I lean over to Jason, whispering in his ear. “I’m getting a lot of energy off this one.”

He shrugs and lets me go back to talking to her, but she just keeps looking at him strangely. Weird.

I turn back to the woman. “Yes. I would love one.”

“Lovely.” She smiles and welcomes us into the back of her house, where a table is set up with a few chairs. Her long skirt billows behind her as she walks, with notes of lavender and sage filling the air. “So what will it be today? Seance? Tarot? Tea leaves?”

“I’m looking for my brother. Anything you can do to help me narrow it down?”

She nods, clearing her throat to speak. “Do you have anything that belongs to him? I can try scrying.”

I rub the back of my neck, my voice coming out strained. “I don’t. But I know he’s in this town somewhere.”

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