“It means they could be fine and have a good life, or things could go badly for them,” Merri Lee replied. “But right now, there is no clear answer.”
Meg put the card facedown and set it to one side. “Second question.”
“What will happen to Sierra if she continues to allow her brother to pressure her into doing things she knows are wrong?”
Meg sucked in a breath. She could have sworn she’d just felt the silver razor’s kiss against her skin. She followed the buzz, partially distracted by the icy pins-and-needles feeling in her left wrist—the exact spot where she thought she’d felt the razor.
She found the card that buzzed with the answer to the question, turned it over, and stepped back from the table before opening her eyes.
Merri Lee looked pale. And Sierra? Fascinated? Horrified? Meg didn’t want to spend her energy trying to recall a training image that matched Sierra’s expression, especially after she looked at the card she’d drawn for the young woman’s future.
Hooded figure holding a scythe.
“Death,” Merri Lee whispered. “Cyrus will push and push until something happens that kills you. You keep saying you owe him. You said it to me, to Theral, to Eve, even to Mrs. Debany, trying to get anyone to agree with you that you owe him. We all told you the same thing: just because you believed what he told you when you were a little girl doesn’t make it true. But we’re not talking about him getting more than his share of a treat because you gave up part of yours. Not anymore. You’re an adult and you’re going to lose a lot more than a cookie. It’s time to stop wrecking your life while you still have one.”
Sierra ran out the back door, sobbing.
“Go after her,” Meg said.
“Are you all right?” Merri Lee asked.
She nodded. “I need to think about some things.”
She waited until she was sure Merri Lee was gone. Then she brushed her fingers against the cards and asked a question of her own.
Why is Simon allowing Cyrus Montgomery to stay around the Courtyard?
Cyrus being Lieutenant Montgomery’s brother wasn’t enough. There had to be another reason.
Strictly speaking, her question didn’t lend itself to prophecy, and she wasn’t certain she’d be guided to an answer. Then her fingers burned. She picked up the card, opened her eyes, and turned it over. She dropped the card faceup on top of the rest.
Meg stared at the card. Stared and stared as she thought about children and mothers and safe places to build a life.
She picked up the phone and called Steve Ferryman. And then she called Simon.
? ? ?
“You’re buying the Stag and Hare?” Simon cocked his head and studied Captain Burke. “Why are you telling me? The terra indigene don’t drink alcohol.” At least, not from a glass. The Sanguinati had been known to get a little tipsy when they fed on someone who had been consuming alcohol. And Wolves and other shifters could be affected by drugs or other substances in a human’s blood. But going to a tavern wasn’t something the Others did by choice, because humans pumped up on liquid courage could be dangerous.
“The Stag and Hare also serves food. Pub grub.” Burke smiled. “It will provide a place in the neighborhood where everyone could mingle. The place has a large-screen television. Customers come in to watch sporting events. Another kind of experience for your people, and a safe place for mine.”
“For the Wolf lovers.” Simon suddenly understood. It had never been safe for someone like him to go into that kind of place. But it wasn’t safe for a human like Kowalski or Debany to go into a drinking den either. Not anymore.
“Why are you telling me?” Simon asked again.
“Customers of the Stag and Hare have caused you some trouble in the past.”
True, but the last humans who crossed the street intending to cause trouble had been killed by the Elders, and their intestines had ended up festooning the nearby trees.
Maybe that was the reason the tavern was for sale?
“The other reason I’m telling you is because I wanted to float an idea,” Burke said. “I’m wondering if an Intuit from Great Island would be interested in managing the tavern. I’m wondering if one of the Sanguinati would be interested in learning to tend bar. Some of the waitstaff will stay because they want the jobs. I think the cook will stay for the same reason. There’s an apartment as well as a small office on the second floor. The apartment would be part of the manager’s salary if he wanted to live there.”
“A business that is a mixed community.”
Burke nodded. “Having a manager who has a feeling about trouble before it starts would benefit all of us.”
“You want me to talk to Vlad and to Steve Ferryman.”
“I do.”
Simon studied the police captain. “You know what happened here?”
“Lieutenant Montgomery told me. I’d like to stay and hear the decision, if that’s all right with you.”
Before Simon could answer, the phone rang. “Howling Good Reads.” He shot to his feet. “Meg? What . . . ? Are you . . . ? I’ll be right there.”
Burke also rose. “Problem?”
“Not yet.” Simon rushed for the door, then stopped when he realized he’d almost left Burke, a human, alone in HGR’s office—something he wouldn’t have considered doing a few months ago.
Burke met him at the door, then went out ahead of him, hurrying down the stairs to get out of the way. Simon brushed past the man and rushed to the Liaison’s Office to find out why Meg needed to see him so urgently before the Sierra made a choice.
? ? ?
“I already called Steve Ferryman,” Meg said when Simon ran into the sorting room.
<Simon?> Nathan planted his forelegs on the front counter and stared at the Wolfgard leader through the Private doorway.
<Was there trouble here?> Simon asked.
<No. Some growling when Meg used the prophecy cards, but it was mostly Merri Lee who did the growling, and she wasn’t growling at Meg.>
The wooden box with the carved lid that Henry had made to hold the prophecy cards was on the table. Three cards were on the table, facedown.
Meg waited until Simon stood next to her. “Merri Lee asked two questions on Sierra’s behalf. What will happen to Bonnie and Carrie if they are separated from their mother?” She turned the big question mark card. “What will happen to Sierra if she continues to allow her brother to pressure her into doing things she knows are wrong?” She turned over the second card.
He bared his teeth. “Death.”
“My question: why are you allowing Cyrus to stay around the Courtyard?” She turned over the card that represented something terrible and dangerous—something most humans thought was a fantastical, make-believe creature and most terra indigene, while knowing such forms existed, had never seen. “Your decision has something to do with them, doesn’t it? The Elders are coming back to the Courtyard.”
Simon stared at her as his ears became Wolf-shaped and fur suddenly covered his shoulders and chest. “They’re already here.”
“What do they want?”
“To observe. To learn.”