Chapter 17
Nia
“HOW TO KNOW IF YOUR SEER IS A FAKE.” —A PAGANS BLOG
The tent’s interior was dimly lit, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight.
Rich purple drapes hung from the low ceiling, their embroidered patterns shimmering faintly.
The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and something herbal—sage, maybe.
A table stood at the center, draped in deep crimson cloth, a black velvet pouch resting at its edge.
Nia hesitated as Ivy slipped out of the tent, torn between following her to make sure she was alright, and staying put to hear what her own future might hold. The seer before her—Zora—had a presence that, in the end, pinned her in place.
Ivy’s reading had uncovered some shadow-work to be done, an introspection Nia knew her friend wasn’t prepared to deal with yet. Oh, and that she wasn’t ready for love, but when the time came, it would be something extraordinary. Ivy was a hopeless romantic with very little patience.
She’s going to hate that, Nia thought.
Zora shuffled her deck, deliberate and unrushed. Her resemblance to Becket was impossible to miss—the same sharp cheekbones, the same rich brown skin, the same chestnut eyes—and the same gift.
Sister, Nia assumed. Still, where Becket carried himself with a casual, devil-may-care attitude, Zora’s energy was unwavering and intense, as if she could see straight through Nia to the parts she kept hidden. Zora fanned out the cards, flipped one over, and placed it firmly on the table.
A single gold cup stood alone on the card.
“Your friend isn’t ready for love,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. Her fingers hovered over the next card before she glanced up. “But the Ace of Cups speaks to new beginnings. Love, joy, deep connection. This says you’re just finding yours.”
Nia blinked, her chest tightening. “My what?”
“Your love.” Zora flipped another card, her brows drawing together in a deep crease. A woman sat before a set of scales, one arm raised as if to tip the balance. The card landed upside down. Zora’s brow creased. “Well, that’s… not good.”
“What’s worse than love?” Nia asked, her tone light even as unease twisted in her gut.
The thought didn’t sit right. The night had been full of laughter, of shared glances and lingering touches with Lochlan.
Every time their shoulders brushed, she’d found herself leaning in instead of pulling away. But now Zora’s reading weighed on her.
The seer rolled her eyes, her voice tinged with exasperation as she tapped on the second card. “Who did you piss off?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.” Nia leaned back, crossing her arms. “This week? This year? Today?”
“Justice reversed,” Zora said. “It means something is off. Consequences are coming. And you don’t get to decide when.”
Zora sucked in a sharp breath as she flipped another card: a woman laying before the oceans, ten swords impaling her from head to foot.
Her head shook slightly as she gathered up the deck. Without a word, she set this aside and pulled out another deck, shuffled it briskly, and flipped the top card.
The same card, albeit with different and more faded artwork stared back at them.
Zora’s expression tightened as she tried yet another deck.
Again, the same card appeared.
“I didn’t know you did magic tricks, too,” Nia said, her unease bubbling into forced humor.
“This isn’t funny,” Zora snapped.
“What is it?” Nia asked, feeling defensive.
Zora set the deck down, her lips thin. “Someone hunts you.”
Nia exhaled slowly, her lips quirking into a small, sardonic smile. “Not surprised.”
“I don’t think you understand,” Zora said, leaning forward.
“Trust me, I understand,” Nia said, brushing off the tension with a shrug.
She’d spent most of her life hidden from the people who wanted her father dead—the same ones who ran his car off the road and killed her mother while she was still in the womb.
The Anti-Glamour Coalition believed magic should rule and humans should kneel.
They saw her father’s rise as a betrayal.
After the crash, he’d told everyone she had died, too.
But the threats never stopped. And Nia? The moment she’d gotten a taste of freedom, she ran straight toward danger. Again and again.
Nothing had ever happened that she couldn’t handle.
“Been there, done that. I’ll be fine.”
Zora’s expression darkened. “Not now. Not when you have so much to lose.”
Before Nia could respond, a chime cut through the tension. Zora pulled out her phone and flipped it over, sighing as she silenced the alarm.
“Time’s up,” she said briskly, the edge in her tone softening to something closer to detachment. “That’ll be fifty for the both of you.”
Nia rose to her feet, frowning skeptically at Zora before pulling out the cash.
“I like your brother better,” Nia said flatly.
Zora didn’t flinch. She looked at Nia with a faintly curious expression and said, “You’re pretty powerful. I didn’t feel your magic.”
Nia smiled, cool and humorless. “I didn’t use magic. You just confirmed what I already suspected.”
As she turned to leave, her magic caught a flicker of regret curling in the shadows of the tent, a tangible weight that tugged at the air around Zora.
Nia’s magic stirred instinctively, coiling at the edges of her awareness, itching to probe those regrets and wield them like a weapon. But she didn’t.
Before Nia could push through the tent flaps, Zora called after her. “Don’t let Lochlan get hurt. He’s one of the good ones.”
Freaking seers.
Nia stepped out into the crisp night air, letting the briny breeze chase away the scent of incense and candle wax.
Lochlan stood just outside, his face brightening the moment he saw her. Without hesitation, she went to him, and his arms opened to catch her.
“Everything okay?” he murmured against her hair.
She let herself lean into him, drawing strength from the way he held her. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Good.”
That was one of the things she loved about him—he didn’t press, not because he didn’t care, but because he chose to trust her.
Love.
What a silly word.
“Let’s find Becket and Ivy.” He pulled back just enough to look down at her, though he didn’t let go. “I’m worried he’s spending all his money trying to win her a bear. The man has horrible timing and worse coordination.”
They strolled toward the row of game booths, and sure enough, Becket was at one of them, winding up for another throw. A baseball flew from his hand, veering wildly off course and missing the metal milk jugs by a mile.
The booth attendant, a wiry glamoured vampire with a red-and-white striped vest and an exaggerated mustache, smirked. “Ladies and gentlemen, behold! The rare and mystical curveball of disappointment!” He waved his hand theatrically toward the fallen ball.
Ivy doubled over, tears streaming from her eyes as she laughed uncontrollably. Becket, unfazed, slapped more money onto the counter.
“This time,” Becket muttered, narrowing his eyes at the milk jugs.
When he threw again, the ball wavered in the air, teetering off course before righting itself and smashing into the jugs with a satisfying clatter. The booth attendant raised an eyebrow, but Ivy squealed with delight, jumping up and down as the man reluctantly handed her a large purple teddy bear.
“You did it!” Ivy exclaimed, hugging the bear.
Becket blinked, clearly as shocked as the booth attendant. “Of course I did it,” he said, recovering quickly. “Pure skill.”
Lochlan straightened as Aurelia Shade, the eraser witch of Stella Rune, stormed past, chasing a few fairies who were hiccupping with laughter as they bobbed through the air. They were glamoured from non-magical eyes, but that didn’t mean the chaos they left behind would go unnoticed.
Once the terrifying witch was out of sight, Nia leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. “That’s cheating.”
“Would you call it cheating if I won you that one?” he asked, pointing to the largest prize on display: a colossal bear that towered over the rest of the plush animals.
“No,” she admitted, picturing Jade’s excited prancing when they brought it home. Nia smiled. “No, I wouldn’t.”