The following evening, as the sun started its decline, I slipped out of the mansion and drove one of my father’s cars into the haven. It was somewhat of a surprise that my father hadn’t opted to saddle me with a round-the-clock guard detail, especially considering the security bars he’d installed on my bedroom windows prior to my arrival home. However, it appeared that as long as I played along and honored my side of the deal we’d struck, he was willing to give me a little leash to work with. And by six-thirty, I’d stretched that leash to Matthias’s building, where the doorman ushered me inside and after a quick check in with the front desk, was allowed access to the elevator.
Once at Matthias’s door, I licked my lips and raised an unsteady hand to knock. A long moment stretched out and I shifted from one foot to the other. I’d dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a jewel-tone green top. The black pleather boots I’d paired with the look had spiked pumps that weren’t exactly made with comfort in mind. I glanced down at the pointed toe and frowned.
The door opened and my head snapped up. Confusion masked Matthias’s face but he pulled the door open a little farther. “Hello, Lacey. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
His aloof manner threw me off. Wasn’t he happy to see me? He’d seemed reluctant to leave me the night before, especially after … that kiss. What was that? A mistake?
“Is everything okay?” Matthias prompted.
Heat flashed over my cheeks and I wished I’d never come. But there was no backing out now. I needed his help, so I dropped my shoulders back and straightened, uncomfortable shoes be damned. “I probably should have just called, but I was already in the neighborhood.”
Well, sorta.
“I was hoping you could give me the name of your mother’s psychic.”
His thick brows shot up.
I raced ahead before he could object. “I got to thinking about this whole seer/psychic thing and realized that this woman could be the key to finding Jupiter!”
Matthias blinked. “You’re being serious?”
“Yes!”
He groaned and pushed his fingers through his thick hair. “It’s a scam, Lacey. There’s no such thing as a seer.”
“How do you know?” I fired back, loosing the frustration that had bubbled up since he’d answered the door.
“If there were really people who could see the future, don’t you think they’d have better things to do than setting up a shop in New York and telling people who to date or what lottery numbers to pick? Shouldn’t they be out there stopping plane crashes or robberies or something?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how it works—or if it works,” I continued. “All I know is that it’s something I haven’t tried before and Jupiter needs me to try everything. Even the … unconventional.”
“Unconventional?” Matthias snorted. “Try delusional.”
I pursed my lips and planted my fists on my hips. “Are you going to help me or not? I came here, but I could just as easily call and meet your mother for lunch. I’m sure she would be all too happy to give me the psychic’s number, and while we were there, I’m sure I’d also get a whole treasure trove of Matty stories.”
His jaw tensed.
I flashed a wicked grin.
He’d been had. And he knew it.
“You play dirty,” he said, leveling a finger at me before reaching over to grab his keys from the entryway table. Still scowling, he stepped into the hallway, locked the door, and then headed for the elevator. “Come on.”
We arrived at Cara Evans’s storefront in the middle of the New York Haven. The car ride had mostly consisted of awkward silences and strained questions about radio station preferences. Neither of us talked about the fight or the kiss. It was like none of it had even happened. The tension only grew as we danced around it, and eventually we settled into silence.
I’d never been more relieved to get out of a car before.
According to Cara’s website, she was open until eleven. It struck me as odd, but convenient for our purposes. I could only assume she had a number of clients who preferred to come out to play after the sun went down. Her shop was wedged between a potion shop and a small produce market on one of the side streets running adjacent to the main street through the New York Haven. For some reason, I’d wrongly assumed the woman did business in the human world, catering to those who were curious about the supernatural world but not actually a part of it. Surely her inclusion in the haven was a sign that she was more legit than some traveling circus sideshow, wasn’t it?
In any case, we stepped into her shop and I was pleasantly surprised to find it looked nothing like a carnival attraction. Instead, the shop looked luxe and classy. It reminded me of Luna, an upscale restaurant back in the Seattle Haven that was something of a mix between a planetarium and a bistro along the Rivera. Cara’s studio was small, and appeared even smaller with a thick velvet divider hanging from the ceiling to the floor that partitioned off part of the space. A tinkling bell chimed announcing our entrance, and we came to a stop a few feet inside.
“I’ll be right there,” a melodic voice carried through from the other side of the curtain.
“The psychic needs a bell to tell her when she has customers?” Matthias asked out of the corner of his mouth.
I elbowed him. “Shh! We want her to help us.”
“Correction, you want her help. I’m here thanks to some sort of emotional blackmail.”
“Emotional blackmail?” I pivoted and glared up at him. “What is your problem? If you didn’t want to come with me, you could have just said so. I didn’t need a chauffeur, I needed her name. You’re the one who volunteered to drive me.”
His mouth twisted, readying to fire off a retort, but footsteps sounded and he turned away as the curtain dividing the space parted to reveal our host.
Somewhere in my mind’s eye, I’d painted Cara into that circus tent vignette, picturing her as a middle-aged woman with enough grey hair to convey her years of wisdom. I’d imagined her with gold hoop earrings, a pair of cuffed boots, and a flashy dress with ruffled layers. Instead, she was a tall, curvy woman with long dark waves, subtle make-up, and while she did have a pair of gold hoop earrings, they were understated and not at all like she was vying for a slot as an extra on the set of the next Pirates of the Caribbean flick. Her hourglass frame was enveloped in a form fitting blue dress, the color reminiscent of sea glass I often saw in the shops back in Beechwood Harbor.
She smiled at each of us, her ruby-painted lips widening into a catlike smile. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Matthias raised his eyebrows and I had to bite back a smile at the blatant look of disbelief on his face. “That so?”
If his skepticism bothered her, she didn’t let it show. Then again, maybe she’d foreseen that too. I hadn’t met a legitimate psychic before. In the supernatural beauty pageant circles there were a handful of ladies who proclaimed that was their talent, but I’d never found any of them terribly impressive. Mostly, their act required smiling and flashing a lot of cleavage at the male judges on the panel to divide their attention away from the fact that most of their so-called predictions were generic and vague at best.
“You’re Matthias Hartford,” Cara replied in a honeyed tone. Her aquamarine eyes moved to me and her smile warmed. “And you are Lacey Vaughn. Welcome back to New York.”
I blinked. “That was incredible.”
Cara smiled.
I looked up at Matthias, expecting to see a hint of wonder reflecting back at me. He remained nonplussed. “Listen, no disrespect, Ms. Evans, but I’m aware that my mother is a long-time client of yours,” he said, his eyes narrowed slightly. “In fact, I don’t need to be a psychic to know that at some point she’s probably been in here showing you pictures of me and asking you to conjure me up some kind of made-to-order daughter-in-law.”