Page 14 of Chasing Eternity (Stealing Infinity #3)
“I still don’t get how you know Arthur’s back,” Elodie says, her voice rising above the cacophony of city sounds as we leave my dad’s building and step onto the bustling street.
“I just need you to trust me,” I say, my voice firm despite the gnawing hunger that seizes my belly the second I catch a whiff of grilled burgers and fries wafting from a nearby restaurant. Its welcoming lights seem to beckon as I stare longingly into the window.
No time , I remind myself, as I summon the strength to rush past . We’ll eat when we get back to Gray Wolf. If Arthur’s still willing to feed us, that is.
Elodie casts a skeptical glance my way. “Fine. Whatever,” she says. “But before we go, there’s something I need you to see—”
Before I can react, she’s latched onto my arm and is pulling me into the middle of traffic. Joined in a frenzied dance of blaring horns and shouting drivers, we dart through buses and cars, racing toward the other side of the street.
“I’d really prefer not to die in these ridiculous jeans,” I grumble under my breath, only half joking. When she stops before a storefront with a flashing neon eye in the window, I glance between her and the sign. “Elodie, what the—”
She’s just about to press the buzzer when the door swings open, an older woman steps out, and Elodie swoops in. “Here, let me get that for you,” she says, acting as though she’s only trying to help instead of her real mission of gaining entry without taking the risk of announcing herself.
The woman narrows her eyes, casting a suspicious glance in our direction. Then, deciding it’s not her problem, she rushes onto the sidewalk without a second glance.
“After you,” Elodie says, her voice tinged with an unspoken secret.
Reluctantly, I step inside the psychic’s lair, a room that reminds me a bit of my dad’s secret den. The walls are draped in rich purple tapestries adorned with celestial patterns that seem to dance in the dim light. Shelves overflow with an eclectic mix of mystical artifacts: crystal balls, tarot decks, and astrology books. The pungent scent of burning incense fills the air.
I’m about to question the logic of visiting a psychic when Elodie already knows the future—or at least everything that’s going to happen over the course of the next twenty-six years—but the words quickly die on my lips as another voice cuts through the silence.
“Please, have a seat,” a female voice calls. “I’ll be with you shortly.”
I whirl toward Elodie, confusion pinching my brow. A moment later, the purple velvet curtain is swept aside, and a girl with long dark hair and brown eyes peers out. “Do you have an appointment?” she asks, her tone professional with a dash of caution.
Elodie confidently steps forward, flashing a feigned apologetic grin. “Sorry, no,” she says. “I’m afraid this was all a bit spur of the moment.”
I study the girl, noting the way her eyes widen, the way the flush instantly drains from her cheeks.
No, it can’t be. Not here, and certainly not now. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day. My mind must be playing tricks on me …
And yet, I continue to gape, only to find the girl frozen in place, her wary gaze darting between Elodie and me.
Even without the designer clothes and priceless jewels, even though she’s dressed casually in a pair of faded jeans, a simple white tee, and a silk blue shawl draped around her shoulders, she carries herself with such elegance and grace there’s no doubt in my mind she’s one of Arthur’s protégés. When I see the crystal charm hanging from her neck, my suspicion is confirmed.
Somehow Elodie knew. This is why she joined me on this Trip.
“Magick has always been the currency of the oppressed,” I say, repeating something she once said to me. “Which, I guess, explains this place.” I gesture around the small psychic’s den. “Only question is”—my gaze fixes on hers—“what the hell are you doing here, Song?”