Page 32 of The Sin Eater
There’s an extra resonance to her voice and it pins me in place. “What the fuck?”
Damon shakes me. “Not that kind of question.”
I lean into him. “I don’t know.”
“How about asking why Jett keeps showing you The Hanged Man.”
“Sure.” I nod at Amelia. “That’s my question.”
She closes her eyes, palms resting on the desktop. I stare at the ball, at first because I’m trying to figure out if the gems in the base are real. A cloud starts to form in the center of the clear globe and I can’t look away. The cloud grows bigger, filling it before fading away and leaving me with a single image.
The young murdered woman with her perfect ’80s hair and pink polo. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is moving soundlessly.
She wants something and I don’t know what it is.
“Aw, hell no. Now you’re really fucking with me.” I jerk out of Damon’s grasp, backing away so quickly I come close to tripping over my own feet. “I can’t... I don’t know... This is too fucking much.”
“What is it?” Damon asks.
I’m breathing so hard I can’t answer him.
“It’s a woman,” Amelia says, her voice puzzled. “She’s asking him for help.”
“Help?” I yell. “How the fuck am I supposed to help a dead woman?”
Damn it.I take off running before Damon can ask what I’m talking about.
I run without truly seeing the crowds of people around me. The air is warm and the light hasn’t dimmed at all, but my body is numb and it’s an effing miracle I don’t knock somebody down. I pass the big red-and-white striped tent and its smaller green neighbor where the dog did his tricks. A ride where people are spinning around twenty-some feet in the air, every one of them screaming with laughter. Another tent. More food stands.
And finally, when I’m struggling to catch my breath, darkness.
Not total darkness, although I would have welcomed it. I must have come to the end of the public areas. Off to one side there’s a cluster of old covered wagons and an antique-looking bus, straight outa 1933. I slow down, still struggling to breathe, wondering where the hell to go next that doesn’t involve busting into somebody’s private area.
“You won’t.” A voice says from way too close beside me.
I about jump outa my skin. “Fuck.”
“I apologize for startling you. I am Mr. Ame, and this is my Carnival.”
Pivoting slowly, I take in the man standing closer than he oughta be. He’s taller than me, though most men are, and he’s slender, lanky almost. His hair is dark, hanging to his shoulders, and he’s wearing close-cut black pants and a loose white shirt.
I’ve never seen something so dangerous look so good.
“And I guess I’m sorry for swearing. I didn’t know you were there until you said something.”Also, your Ringmaster said I’d be safe here and he obviously lied.
“Tell me what happened. What made you leave your friend behind?”
“For the love of—” I rake my hand through my hair. “It’s complicated.”
He sighs softly. “All right. Here’s what I know. You came to my Carnival and you were promised safety.”
I interrupt him by laughing. He simply raises a hand and for some damn reason, I go quiet.
“You carry darkness within you, and while I can keep you safe from external forces, I cannot help you with yourself.”
“Good to know. Thanks, dude—uh, Mr. Ame.” My mother would want me to be respectful. “I’m going to go find my friend. Sorry to have—”
“Wait. Your friend will be here in a moment. I want you to do something, though, once he’s here. I want you to tell him the truth.”