Chapter 1
Chapter One
Peter
“ Y ou don’t really believe in this shit, do you?” Chantelle asked.
I chuckled. Maybe my skeptical childhood friend wasn’t the ideal person to bring to a tarot reading, but she was my bestie. We always had a blast together, even if she was a non-believer in all things arcane and witchy.
“C’mon, you don’t think it’s fun?” I countered.
“Movies are fun. Reading is fun. Shopping is fun.” She made a wishy-washy hand gesture. “Some ol’ woman in a musty apartment making up a story and charging you for it? Not my idea of a good time.”
I flashed her a grin. “Isn’t reading just making up a story and being charged for it?”
Chantelle’s deadpan reaction implored me not to press her.
I laughed it off as we rounded the street corner. “Come on, it’s not that expensive. It won’t eat into my savings to hear a single fortune.”
“Your savings from the Burger Kitchen?” she asked, rightfully skeptical.
“Hey, a couple hundred bucks is still savings.”
She clicked her tongue. “It’s your money, Peter. I’d rather get a latte with that money...”
“Well... it’s more like five lattes,” I pointed out.
“You’re spending twenty-five bucks on this quack?” Chantelle blurted.
“Shh! She’ll hear you.”
She crossed her arms. “From where? Is she superhuman?”
“She’s a psychic,” I stated. “So, like, kind of.”
“Peter.”
I steeled my resolve. She’d support me no matter what—even if she thought my choices were dumb sometimes—so she deserved to hear my perspective.
“I just want some insight, you know?” I said, shrugging. “On why I can’t find an alpha.”
Chantelle’s arms loosened and she sighed. “And you think a woman looking at some cards is going to help?”
“Why not? I’d settle for any answer at this point.”
Her face softened. We’d been single together for years until she finally found a girlfriend, so she was sympathetic to my plight. The most frustrating part was that I didn’t understand why I was single. Was I doing something wrong? I was a kind person, and decent-looking enough. Sure, I was into some wacky supernatural stuff, but it was harmless. I just wanted love. I wanted an alpha for life. A partner.
And if it meant seeing a fortune teller to figure out why the hell I was still single, that was a price I was willing to pay.
My heart sped up as we approached the meeting spot. I stopped walking to double-check the location on my phone. As I pulled up the address, a sudden shiver rolled down my spine. It almost felt like someone was staring at me.
I spun around, but saw nothing except a busy street in the middle of the day.
“What’s up?” Chantelle asked.
Still feeling that weird prickling on the back of my neck, I stared at the bustling sidewalk. Nobody even glanced at me. They were all minding their own business. The odd feeling must’ve been my imagination.
“Nothing. Let’s go,” I said.
We stopped in front of the building. It was an outdated low-rise, similar to the one I lived in.
“She’s in a basement unit. Probably one of those down there.” I pointed to the rows of rectangular windows peeking above the grass. I figured the ledge full of black candles and crystals belonged to her.
Chantelle nodded. “Psychic in a creepy basement. Cool.”
I was about to reassure her when another shudder rippled down my neck—sharper and harder to ignore than the first. Whatever it was, I wouldn’t miss it a second time.
I whipped around, then lost my breath.
The biggest dog I’d ever seen in my life loomed across the street. It was the size of a bear with shaggy pitch-black fur, pointed ears like daggers, and a long wispy tail that flowed like ink. Red eyes bored into my soul.
I was so frozen by its gaze that I forgot to breathe.
“...Peter?”
Chantelle’s voice sounded distant, as if reaching through fog. I tried to shake off the feeling, but I couldn’t move. I was pinned by the black dog’s gaze.
The terrifying beast was impossible to miss. Didn’t she see it, too?
“Peter!”
As Chantelle grabbed my arm, I catapulted back to reality. I blinked, facing her with my jaw agape.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Did you see that dog?” I exclaimed.
Her brows furrowed. “Uh... what dog?”
“It’s right?—”
When I thrust my finger in its direction, the sidewalk was empty. The dog had disappeared.
My jaw dropped again in disbelief.
“Oh, lord, we haven’t even talked to the psychic and he’s seeing things,” Chantelle mumbled.
“It was right there!” I cried.
I looked up and down the street frantically. The dog couldn’t have gone far. It was unnaturally large and downright freaky. Somebody else was bound to notice it, if not the whole damn town.
“Probably someone’s loose Chow,” Chantelle suggested.
“Chantelle. That thing was not a Chow,” I argued.
“Doberman?”
“Girl, it was the size of a bear !”
She raised a brow but didn’t contest me. Instead she patted me on the back, urging me towards the apartment lobby. “C’mon, let’s get you to that psychic appointment. Maybe she’ll uncover your subconscious desire for a pet.”
I grunted, pulling the door open. “I don’t have any subconscious desires like that.”
“How do you know? They’re subconscious.”
I sighed. “I mean, sure, I’d get a dog. A normal one. But that’s definitely not what I saw just now.”
“Uh huh. Did it have red glowing eyes, too?”
“Yes!” I cried.
She gave my earnest outburst a pointed look. She knew I’d never lie to her, but I was also the type of guy to buy a tarot reading when I couldn’t really afford it. So maybe she was right to judge me a teeny-tiny bit.
But I hadn’t imagined that beastly dog. No fucking way. I’d locked eyes with the thing. It was tangible .
Down in the basement hallway, Chantelle sniffed the air. “Smells like incense.”
Right. The psychic. That was why I’d come out here in the first place. Five minutes ago I was beyond excited, but now, the only thing on my mind was the terrifying black dog. I wondered if the psychic would know anything about it. The supernatural was right up her alley, and it had appeared right across from her building.
After we knocked, our host Angelica greeted us and welcomed us inside. She was younger than I expected, dressed in flowing robes and layers of eclectic jewellery. The inside of her apartment resembled a knockoff crystal shop, and the scent of burning incense was a little too thick.
“Please, sit,” Angelica urged.
I took my place across from her at the table. A deck of tarot cards sat atop a black cloth.
“Is it okay that I brought my nonbeliever friend?” I asked with a sheepish grin.
Angelica chuckled as she shuffled the cards. “Oh, I’ll make a believer out of her yet.”
Chantelle sat beside me, giving our host a polite smile, then examined her acrylic nails in skeptical silence.
I bit my lip, still thinking about the ghastly dog. Chantelle didn’t believe me, but the psychic would.
“By the way,” I began, glancing over my shoulder at the window. “Is there a black dog in the neighborhood?”
Angelica flourished the cards. “Sure. There’s my neighbor’s lab, and a fellow across the street has a Rottweiler.”
“No, I don’t mean like, a normal dog,” I corrected. “It’s huge and ghostly, and had, er... glowing red eyes.”
Her eyes widened. “A spirit?” she asked excitedly.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. My gaze remained on the window, as if the beast would appear if I stared hard enough. I almost wanted it to so everybody else could see it and I wouldn’t sound delusional.
“Mm.” Angelica nodded, slow and methodical. “The cards will reveal the truth.”
As she began the tarot spread, my mind drifted away from the mysterious dog. The cards allured me with their beautiful designs and cryptic meanings. I’d always been fascinated by tarot and fortune telling, but I only had a surface-level understanding of them. I trusted Angelica’s wisdom. After all, she charged $25 for a half-hour reading. She must be good.
“Tell me, Peter,” Angelica said. “What do you wish to ask the cards?”
It was embarrassing to admit, but I knew I wouldn’t be judged—not by my best friend, and not by the psychic.
“I’ve been single for too long,” I mumbled. “I just want to find the right man. I guess my question is... why haven’t I met him yet?”
Angelica closed her eyes and hummed while stroking the top of the deck. “I understand. Let us begin.”
She moved as if in a trance. Cards flipped face up one by one on the table. My heart quickened. I forgot about everything except the cards and their secret meanings. A full spread began to reveal itself.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I shuddered and put my hand over it, frowning.
I glanced at the window. Still empty. Nothing—and nobody—was there. So why did it feel like someone was burning a hole in the back of my skull?
Angelica pulled the final card. Her face darkened.
The reaction made me nervous. “What?” I asked.
Noting my anxiety, Chantelle frowned and sat forward. Her eyes were glued to the card in the psychic’s hand.
Angelica’s lips pulled tight as she slid the final card towards me. An instinctive shiver ran down my spine.
On it was the image of a grim skeleton knight riding a pale horse, inscribed with the number thirteen.
The Death card.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” she said gravely. “There is darkness in your future.”