Heather Graham

Blood Red


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      Susan pointed. “Here…artistic success. You are clever and determined.” Susan looked up and stared hard at Deanna. “When you set your mind to something, you can make it happen. When we fail, far too often, it is because we’re afraid. Remember, you have the talent and the will. Don’t be put off by circumstances that seem dire. You are very strong. And there will be changes.”

      “Will I ever get married?” Deanna asked.

      Susan shrugged. “Your palm is not telling me. I can say that you are passionate and giving, and that you are quite capable of creating fire, passion—and love—around you.”

      “I like that,” Deanna said.

      Lauren looked at her, trying to avoid Susan’s eyes. Lots of people could have said that to you, her stern gaze said.

      “Your turn,” Deanna said.

      “Ah, the crystal ball for our talented young artist,” Susan murmured. She didn’t move, though, and her eyes were downcast.

      “I think Susan is tired,” Lauren said.

      “Oh no, you are not getting out of this!” Heidi insisted.

      “May I see more fully?” Susan asked.

      Lauren handed her the drawing she had done.

      “You are very kind,” she murmured. “You have caught me on paper with great beauty.”

      “I want to work more on it. I’ll send you a copy when I’m done,” Lauren told her.

      Susan nodded and handed back the drawing. Lauren flipped her sketchbook closed and returned it to her purse.

      “It seems like you’ve had a busy night. You look tired. You really don’t have to do another reading,” Lauren said.

      “She’s trying to get out of this,” Heidi explained.

      Susan stood. She wasn’t smiling. “I think that we must look into the crystal ball.”

      Heidi and Deanna started to rise.

      “There is only room in the tent for one—I’m sorry. The crystal ball is quite different from the palm and the cards.”

      Susan waited gravely, and at last Lauren followed her into the tent, the sounds from the street and the night receding. As she sat in the chair opposite Susan, the world outside all but disappeared.

      “Your fiancé, he was a soldier?” Susan asked, staring into the crystal ball.

      Startled, Lauren looked at her. “Yes.”

      “I’m very sorry, truly. But…there are those who believe there are certain fates we cannot avoid, and others who believe we have a hand in our own futures. Perhaps many people lived because your young man died,” she said softly.

      “Thank you. I like to think that,” Lauren murmured.

      “You don’t date much.”

      “I’ve dated.”

      Susan smiled enigmatically.

      “What?” Lauren asked.

      “You don’t date much because you feel that you meet nothing but dimwits and users since you lost your man.”

      “It’s hard to meet the right person.”

      They had been chatting casually, almost as if they were engaged in a normal conversation at any one of the smaller cafes or bars in the city. But Lauren realized that something had been subtly changing since she had come into the little tent.

      The crystal ball had begun to glow, to fill with a red mist.

      She stared at it, unable to tear her eyes away. She only dimly noted Susan’s face, registering as if from a great distance that the other woman looked tense, even distressed.

      “You must leave here…you and your friends…must go.”

      “Yes,” Lauren said.

      But she couldn’t move. It felt as if she were frozen where she sat, as if her very muscles were paralyzed.

      There was something dark at the core of the crystal ball, dark and red, finding form as the milliseconds ticked by.

      It was a bird. A winged thing.

      Then it was not.

      It took the shape of a man. Tall, the face dark, the figure imposing.

      A sound seemed to rise in her ears, and she realized that it was laughter. Deep, rich, taunting-and cruel.

      She heard words.

      So soft at first that she couldn’t understand what was being said. Then she knew.

      “I’m coming for you. I’m coming to get you.”

      “No,” Lauren murmured, struggling for sanity, for reality. Someone had heard them talking earlier. Someone had heard the words that Deanna had spoken teasingly.

      “Lauren…” The dark figure called her by name. “I’m coming to get you, Lauren….”

      “No!”

      “I’m coming to get you, and you’ll be mine in a world of blood and death and darkness.”

      Susan suddenly jumped up, as if she, too, had suddenly broken of the invisible bonds holding her there.

      She made a strange sound and her arm flew out.

      The crystal ball flew off the table and shattered on the ground.

      But even as it flew into a thousand pieces, it seemed to Lauren that she heard a husky whisper of evil laughter.

      2

      She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten there, but Lauren found herself outside the tent. It seemed so normal now, nothing more than a little red canvas tent again.

      She was back outside just as if they had finished their session completely normally,, as if she had casually strolled out after hearing some nice normal prediction for her future. She was back outside, in the midst of the neon light and movement of the night. The very normal night. She could hear footsteps and laughter, bits of conversation, the sound of mules’ hooves as they clattered on the pavement, drawing carriages filled with tourists.

      Both Heidi and Deanna were staring at her in surprise, and that wasn’t normal at all.

      Lauren turned to look back inside the tent. The images she had seen now seemed ridiculous, but the shattered crystal ball was there as proof that something out of the ordinary had happened.

      “Lauren!” Heidi said, shocked. “Susan, we’re so sorry. We’ll pay for your crystal ball, of course. What on earth happened?” She stepped forward, slipping an arm through Lauren’s, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I knew you weren’t exactly into this, but did you have to break her crystal ball?”

      “It was an accident!” Lauren protested.

      It had been an accident-and she hadn’t even been the one to break it. But beyond that, she couldn’t have seen what she thought she had. She had been tricked. It must have been some kind of a parlor trick, though that seemed impossible now, with all the light and noise around her.

      Even now, the details of what she had seen, what she had heard, were slipping from her mind. She tried to hold on, but they were all escaping her. And she was beginning to feel like a fool.

      Was she worse off-mentally or emotionally-than she had thought?

      No!

      Susan was still staring at her. And she didn’t seem to be concerned about her crystal ball but about Lauren herself.

      “Where are you girls staying?” Susan asked.

      “The Old Cote,” Deanna said.

      Susan