Page 15

Vera

Do I like this?

Way, way too much. But I feel like I’m entering dangerous waters exploring something that holds far too much appeal in a relationship that’s supposed to be temporary.

That’s supposed to be fake.

Somehow I can’t bear to look into his big rich brown eyes and do anything but care for him. Erik is the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met. He’s going to be heartbroken when he finds out I was using him. When I leave.

I’m going to be heartbroken too.

I chew on that thought for a while after our encounter while Erik showers and I make us a simple dinner of boiled eggs on a dense rye loaf I found at the local bakery.

I actually ventured out on my own today. Well, with Snickers. Her happy little wagging tail somehow made me feel less anxious about all the eyes on me. About who might be watching from around street corners or behind bushes .

Of course there’s no one. Because no one knows I’m here.

It’s worked. I’ve escaped. And maybe I’ve found what I’ve been looking for all along. A place and a life that makes me happy. Erik included.

What if I don’t have to leave?

What if I stay and make this my life permanently?

I was feeling so unhappy before he came home, doubtful and uncertain if he would be upset with me. But as soon as he walked through the door, I felt better. Secure.

And what we shared still makes me tingle all over and smile to myself at the memory.

With that happy thought in my mind, I slide onto the bar stool at the counter next to Erik. “I should get a job.”

He turns to me in surprise. “Why?”

“I would like to help. To pay for things. For the wedding.” It’s really the least I could do after he paid for my flight and my visa and everything I needed to emigrate.

His eyes widen. “Oh! Then you want to do the dress and the function and everything?”

I nod slowly. “Just a small thing, but yes. I would like to.”

I love his goofy smile as he leans over to take a huge bite of eggs on toast. I love the way his wide mouth stretches around his tusks and the way his broad, square chin is so strong and solid and dependable. Just like the rest of him.

It makes me feel like he could help carry the weight of my past. Of my fears.

It would be unfair to burden him with them though, wouldn’t it?

“Do you have a dress picked out?” He lifts a finger to stop me when I lift my phone. “Don’t tell me! I forgot it’s supposed to be a secret. But this weekend we could go looking for places to have the ceremony. Would you like to look through my folder?”

I agree and we spend the rest of the evening comfortably, flipping through brochures Erik has collected, me listening to him talk about his ideas for the day. Seems like he’s been planning this for a long time. I do love how much thought he’s put into it.

In the end, we settle on three likely places. A small café by the river just out of town, a vineyard in the hills to the west, and an old church in town that’s been converted to a function room.

I like the idea of the vineyard. There’s a big garden where Snickers can run around without disturbing anyone, and it seems right for her to be included. She’s kind of the closest thing to a friend I have since I moved to Heartstone.

But when it’s time for bed, a guilty knot settles into my gut and I don’t invite Erik in. He acts the way he always does—patient, calm. He wishes me goodnight and settles himself onto the sofa bed, and I retreat to the bedroom.

I should keep my distance until I’m certain. I shouldn’t risk letting him get more attached than he already is.

What I need is a way to be sure.

I think again of the tarot reading I had before I made the decision to become a monster’s mail-order bride. Back then, I couldn’t have imagined that the predictions Inga made could have fallen this way, but now everything she said sort of fits into place. A new home across the sea. A homecoming. A leap of faith.

All of it could mean Erik .

But sometimes the cards are fickle.

I want to see again.

I can’t call Inga, obviously. Everyone thinks I’m dead.

I need to find someone here in Heartstone who can read them for me.

A few minutes’ searching turns up three tarot readers on this side of the city. One looks like an obvious fake, all flashing animations and inspirational messages. Another has no picture on their website and the link I click is broken.

The last website I find has an image of a familiar looking woman. Her short pixie cut leaves wisps of gray hair curling around her ears, and her long dangly earrings have mosaic roses decorating them.

Sophia. Sure enough, there’s a link to the Monstrous Deals page at the bottom of her psychic services page. I remember how a brief and mostly unintelligible conversation when she informed me I’d been matched with Erik.

If she works with monsters then she must be connected with the supernatural. I do think there are some unscrupulous people out there who only pretend to read the cards without having any idea what they’re doing. I have a good feeling about this Sophia.

Decision made, I click the book button and make a time for tomorrow afternoon.

I can head to the local pawn shop in the morning and sell my diamond earrings and pay her in cash. Somehow it feels wrong asking Erik for the cash to pay for this reading when what I’m asking is whether or not I should betray him.

Sophia hands me a steaming cup of tea and gives me a warm smile as she sits opposite me on a black-and-white-striped loveseat. “How is everything? How are you settling in?”

I clasp my hands in my lap and consider my words. I don’t want her to think the match is a failure. Perhaps coming here was a mistake. I can’t be candid with her. That’s for sure.

The quaint and brightly painted terrace house is not what I would have pictured for a monster brothel. I wonder where the girls take bookings. Upstairs I guess. I wonder if she has specialty rooms.

I drag my thoughts back to the moment. “I am very well. I am hoping to book a place for the wedding and I am looking for some extra guidance.” That seems like a plausible reason to come for a reading.

What will she see in the cards? What if she reads too much of the truth?

Too late to worry about that now I suppose.

She nods. “Fantastic. Well, I’m sure I can help with that. Your aura looks good by the way. The move must have been intimidating, but I think it has suited you. I hope Erik has too.”

I flush. I don’t want to admit just how well he suits me, but I wonder if she can read that in my aura too. Before Inga, I saw a clairvoyant in Moscow who used to talk about auras. I never put much stock in it, but I never used to be engaged to a monster either. I think my perspective on a lot of things has changed. “Yes. He is very good.” I take a sip of tea to cover the way the blush spreads across my cheeks and avoid looking directly into Sophia’s face.

“Good. So you want a tarot reading?”

“Please.”

“Let me fetch the cards.”

She makes a show of getting up and looking through a set of drawers on the wall. She moves slowly and deliberately, as if she’s giving me time to compose myself. If she is, she’s very good.

Either way, I make use of the time. When she returns with a deck of cards, I’m sitting with my hands in my lap again, my face the careful mask I used to wear around my father and brother.

Sophia hands me the deck and I shuffle, keeping my eyes down and my heart focused on what I really want to know: Is he mine? Is he the homecoming the cards foresaw?

When I hand them back to Sophia, my hands are trembling.

She gives me a strange look.

She says nothing, however, as she lays out three cards face up, one after the other.

The Tower, The Star. We both suck in a breath as she turns over the King of Swords.

This card is one of those in the deck I’m always afraid of drawing. The cruel, beautiful face of the man in the picture smirks up at me from his pointed metal throne. His eyes hold no warmth, nor does his smile.

As she lays the card down, Sophia snatches her hand back as if it has burned her.

We both stare in silence for a long moment .

Sophia makes a low sound in the back of her throat. “The Tower signifies a drastic change. This is your past. The home you left behind.” She nods to herself, her voice growing more confident again as she speaks.

I say nothing.

“The Star. A good sign. Healing. A bright light to guide you into your future.”

There’s a pause. She looks up at me and her brows furrow.

“But this one...”

She doesn’t have to say. I’ve had this card before and can still recall the words Inga spoke when she read the prediction. A corrupt and powerful man will try to control you. To hurt you.

I always assumed the card meant my father or my brother.

After Dmitri attacked me, I thought it must have meant him.

But all of that is in my past. This card was drawn in the position representing my future. I swallow around a dry throat. “Could there be another meaning?”

Sophia’s face is grim, her tone soft. “Sometimes things are not what they seem. There is turbulence in your future, that much is certain. But it may not represent a physical threat. It could be a threat to your confidence or independence.”

I snort. “These are the same.”

She reaches a hand across the table, offering it to me. It takes me a moment, but hesitantly, I place my hand in hers. “Whatever you left behind in Moscow is behind you. The Star is a strong predictor of healing. And you’re here now. The Monstrous Deals security team is only a call away. Though I must say Erik passed our screening process with flying colors. ”

I sigh. “It is not Erik. I know that.” And I doubt anyone could protect me if my brother finds a way to get to me.

But perhaps she’s right. Perhaps the card doesn’t signify him either.

As I leave, I try to tell myself all will be well.

Sophia refuses to let me pay for the reading and I use some of the cash to take a cab home just to get off the street. I can’t shake the cold feeling at the back of my neck, as if a small piece of an icy Russian winter storm followed me here to Heartstone.