Page 4 of At A Dreamwalkers Mercy

There was nothing she could do about her bright blue eyes, and she hated it.

She hated looking in the mirror and having the light blue color staring back at her.

She hated everything about herself.

Sighing at the thought, she finished getting ready. At least the layers of her awful costume would help keep her warm.

She called out before knocking on the door and following behind one of Chuck’s men across the circus.

The only thing that she didn’t outright hate was the actual circus.

People always seemed so happy to come here, even if most of them knew it was a scam. But seeing the teenage couples walk around hand in hand, or the mothers and fathers following behind their children from tent to tent. She loved watching the little kids run around with an ice cream cone or a sugary fried doughnut, laughing and smiling brightly. It was as if the magic of the circus was still there and for a little bit, watching them let her feel as if she could be a part of that.

But then reality would slam back into her, and she would be right back where she belonged. In her own little makeshift tent next to the main area where Chuck had set her up. At least it was comfy, with pillows and drapes in all different colors, hung up and laid out as if to welcome the next person in.

It was all for show.

It wasn’t comfort that she got to bring into these people’s lives, and it wasn’t a comforting feeling that she was left with.

No, she wrecked people’s lives. Ruined them and their families, running them into the ground and leaving them broke and desperate.

That was what she did.

An older gentleman came in, the set of his suit and the watch on his wrist, telling her exactly what it was that Chuck was after.

Money.

How did Chuck even find these people?

If there was one thing that Chuck loved more than anything, it was money.

“Please sit down,” she asked, grabbing a bottle of lotion and using some on her hands before lighting a candle. The man observed her every move intently.

“The man out there said that you know things,” he said, referring to Chuck.

“I do,” she replied simply, letting her façade wash over her face to block her emotions from showing through.

She could do this.

“I want to know if my partner is going to back out.” She nodded while sitting down across the table that was draped in another fake silk scarf, this one in a deep purple, and held out her hand. He gave her a look, but then reached out and followed her lead.

She didn’t really have to put this much of a production on. A simple touch of a person would give her all the look into their mind that she needed, but half of what these people were there for was a show.

An image of a beautiful woman flashed in her head. She was kissing another man, and she jerked, realizing what it was that she had seen.

“Your wife is blonde and petite, am I correct?”

“Yes. Why? What did you see?” the man immediately pushed, something dark coming over his face.

“Give me a moment please,” she whispered, pushing deeper into his mind and using the time to find the information she was looking for. As she looked farther, she saw that the woman was indeed his wife, and it wasn’t the partner that was looking to leave, it was the wife.

For good reason too. An image of the man standing over his wife, his face twisted in anger, his fist raised, flashed through her mind. Her gut rolled.

She knew how it felt to be in that kind of situation.

She knew what it felt like to be helpless.

She blinked, and another image flashed, this time of his wife, and who she was assuming was the partner, sitting on a couch together. The partner was holding her, consoling her, the big black eye and bloody nose and lip giving her away.

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