seven

It’s only an hour flight to Portland, but security procedures mean it’s often quicker to drive—or at least it’s more convenient. So we drove the rental car back to Portland and returned it there, then we packed bags of fresh clothing, grabbed some supplies from the office, and caught a plane to the next stop on my information gathering tour.

I’d told Adam we were going to see another of my mother’s old contacts. He didn’t ask for details; he never did. While he’d met most of the folks in my black book, this was someone I’d only visited once since my mother died, and not with Adam.

When we opened the door to her office, it jangled to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” A miniature train set—Santa pulling cars filled with presents—chugged around the room. The waiting area smelled of peppermint and pine. That probably had something to do with the bowls filled with candy canes and potted dwarf conifers festooned with lights.

“Someone’s really late taking down the decorations,” Adam said.

“It’s Las Vegas,” I said. “Cheesy is encouraged. Holly loves Christmas. She says it makes people happy. Happy is good.”

“Holly?”

“Yep. She told me once that she’d been damned tempted to marry a guy named Chris Kringle even though he was eighty and had breath that would kill a cat.”

I grabbed a candy cane and wandered over to her consultation room door. Beyond it, I could hear Holly talking to a client.

“Beware the man with the empty green eyes,” she intoned. “He is looking to fill his soul by stealing from yours.”

I glanced through the partly open door. The dark room was lit only by candles. Pumpkin pie candles, by the smell. At a tiny table, the client—dark-haired, in her twenties—sat with her back to me. Across from her was a white-haired woman with eyes just as white, staring blindly into nothing.

Holly Grayson, shaman by birth, psychic by trade. Not that she had any ability to see into the future. No supernatural does. But like every good shaman, she had an ayumi—a spirit guide—who could spy on clients and learn enough about them so she could then “predict” their future. Holly wasn’t as altruistic as Jaime, but she wasn’t all bad either. I’m sure her client should beware the “man with the empty green eyes,” likely a lover with those eyes fixed on her bank account.

Holly flipped over another tarot card. I’m not sentimental, but I have to admit, the hanging Santa kind of freaked me out.

“I see a life in suspension,” Holly said. “You fight against the stasis. You sway, side to side, struggling to get free, to move on.”

“I’m frustrated,” the woman said.

“Which is the problem.” Holly tapped the hanging Santa, her blind eyes staring straight ahead. “You are too eager. Embrace this time of suspension. Relax. Take a step back and look—truly look—at your choices.”

The session came to an end after a few more cards and the young woman rose, leaning across the table to clasp Holly’s hands.

“Thank you. You have such a gift.”

Holly smiled beatifically. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. But he is always generous. If given the choice, I would give up my vision again for the gift of the second sight.” She rolled back from the table, her electric wheelchair purring. “And my legs for the chance to step into the lives of others, and make a difference.”

I went to cast a cover spell, remembered I couldn’t, and quickly waved Adam back into the corner with me. I don’t think it would have mattered. The young woman was so caught up in her own thoughts she walked right past us.

Adam arched his brows as I tiptoed into the room where Holly was gathering up her tarot cards.

I slid behind Holly and said, “Boo!”

She almost jumped out of her wheelchair. Then she swiped out the white contacts and peered up at me.

“Your mother used to do the same thing,” she said. “Cruelty to the disabled apparently runs in the family.”

“No, we’re just trying to teach you a lesson. If you’re going to play a blind woman, spring for the semi-transparent contacts, so you can see if someone’s sneaking up on you.”

“But if I can see, then I’ll look. And if I look, then they’ll know I’m not blind.” She tugged me over and held me at arm’s length. “You look even more like your mother than you did last time I saw you. Prettier eyes, though. Just don’t tell her I said that.”

There was a noise across the room, and she glanced over to see Adam.

“You must be the Vasic boy,” she said. “I’ve met your father. Can’t say it was a pleasant encounter. He wasn’t too happy with me.” She lowered her voice. “I was causing a bit of trouble at the time.”

“Must have been quite a bit of trouble if you managed to get Dad away from his books.”

“Oh, I don’t mean Robert Vasic. I mean your real father, Asmondai, who appears outside his domain even less often than Robert. And when he does? One really wishes he hadn’t.”

Holly gestured to her chair. “He’s responsible for this. I don’t blame him, though. I was young and arrogant, and it was a lesson I needed to learn.”

She waved for me to pull another chair up to the table. As we sat, she picked up her tarot deck and shuffled through, fingers discreetly rubbing the edges, looking for the one she wanted. When she found it, she flipped it over.

“The high priestess,” she said. “Mystery and duality. Hidden meanings. You’ve come to me on behalf of a friend with one foot in the world of the dead. Yet I see her addressing masses of the living. She’s speaking to them when she’s interrupted by”—she flipped another card—“the fool. A man who thinks he speaks the truth, but babbles nonsense.”

“News travels fast,” I said. “Yes, Jaime’s show was interrupted by a crazy man last night. That’s not why I’m here, though.”

“No?” She arched her brows. “Perhaps you don’t think it’s why you’re here. But the cards never lie.”

When I opened my mouth to steer her back on track, Adam cut me off.

“It’s not why we came,” he said. “But if you know something . . .”

“I know many things. About this . . . not so much. But let’s just say that if the council launches an investigation, I won’t be unhappy to see it. This kind of nonsense pops up every now and then, and it seems to be coming back into vogue among the young and disaffected.”