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“What is it?” Abe whispers.
I open my eyes and notice my hands are trembling. I quickly lay the cards out on the desk like an accordion and clear my throat. “Pick one,” I say hoarsely, that tight feeling not letting go of me. It feels like heartbreak.
Brom stares at me for a moment, his dark brows furrowed, then he looks to the deck. His black-brown eyes sweep over them, reflecting the faint morning light, until he taps one of them.
“This one,” he says.
I glance at the card, still face down.
Yes, something inside me buzzes. That’s the one.
I reach over and gingerly pick it up, afraid of what I’ll see.
It’s The Tower.
On the card it’s an image of a castle’s tower on fire, being struck by lightning, with two men falling out of it, presumably to their doom.
In my head, I see the same thing come to life. A dark spiral cathedral shrouded by fog, a fire burning it up from the inside, and the two men falling through the air are me and Brom. We land in the mud, stagger to our feet and though we try to run away from the burning church, we can’t. That constricting feeling around my ribs deepens and, in the vision, it pulls me back to the building. I’m yelling something at Abe, how we can’t leave without…without…
And then the image fades and before I know it I’ve collapsed to my knees in front of Abe. He reaches out and presses my head against his thigh, stroking my head in such a way that my eyes roll back.
“What happened?” he whispers, his voice pitching.
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to calm my heart. I’d get up but I rather like where my head is, like how doting Abe is being. It’s a nice change. “I think perhaps it’s been too long since I’ve eaten anything. I got faint.”
I’m not about to tell him that using divination can literally drain me.
“What did the card say?”
I take in a long breath through my nose as the vision fully fades away. “It’s the tower,” I eventually say.
“That sounds okay.”
“Yes.” I nod against his leg. “It seems innocuous enough. It indicates a sudden change or release. It could be anything from uncovering a hidden truth to having a revelation that changes the course of your whole life.”
The muscles in his thighs tense up. “So what do you read it as? Where am I going?”
“I don’t know where you are going,” I say carefully, lifting my head to look up at him. “But I know you’re going there because of what has happened to you. An upheaval has already occurred. Where you are going is a direct response to that.”
He stares down at me and scrunches up his nose. “None of this is helpful.”
“Sometimes we don’t want to know our future,” I hedge, not wanting him to know my vision.
“These cards don’t tell you what will happen, though,” Abe says. “They tell you what might happen. At least that’s what my, uh, neighbor said.”
I nod. I can’t tell him that what I see almost always does happen.
At that, I get back to my feet and start attending to the deck, shuffling it back neatly.
The session is complete, I chant to myself, putting the deck back where it was and placing a stick of selenite on top to seal it closed.
But while my back is to Abe, I can’t help the faint smile I feel tugging my lips.
Because even though that card was dark, that future was dark, I was there. I was in his future. I’ve only known this man one week and in that week he’s turned my world upside down, given me something to hold on to when I’ve been grasping at straws. He’s given me something to wake up to each morning instead of that endless need to smoke and escape and forget.
My cock, which never fully went back down, is hard again and raring to go.
I turn around and his gaze immediately goes to it.
“On your knees, pretty boy,” I tell him.
His eyes go heavy with lust. “Yes, sir.”
He drops to his knees and opens his mouth.
And while I push the flat head of my cock past his sweet lips, over his flat tongue and down his tight throat, I feel sated in knowing that we’ll be together, in whatever darkness the future holds.
One week later I wake up in my bed to find it empty.
I spend the day with my heart in my hands, waiting for him to return.
He never does.
Chapter 12
Kat
I have a bad habit that when someone tells me I can’t do something, say something, see someone, it makes me want to do it even more. I don’t know who taught me to be so rebellious in a world where rebellion is so often punished. But perhaps I like the punishment. I certainly do when Crane is doling it out.
