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“Oh wow,” Skylar gasped.
“What name do you use?” Jessica asked me.
Shaking my head, I couldn’t hide the reddening blush as it got deeper and deeper. I was going to kill my sister.
I wanted to chop her into little pieces and feed her to the sharks.
I imagined throwing her into a woodchipper and using her for mulch.
I prayed for John Wick to show up and stab her with a pencil.
Anything to shut her the hell up.
“Myst3ry_R3ad3r,” my sister said, smiling proudly. “She’s fantastic too. She always has a lot of people watching when she live-streams. I know, I’ve watched a time or two. My little sis is trending.”
“Please stop,” I pleaded, begging my sister to shut her big trap.
“Oh, come on, Henley.” Bailey grinned. “This is fucking awesome. I love it. I’ve actually thought about doing live-streams when I do tattoos. But the logistics are a nightmare.”
“Oh, you should do it, Bailey.” Athena nodded. “You have an enormous fan base. You could drum up more clients easily.”
“Love the mask, Hen.” Claudia smirked. “The whole look is mysterious. I can barely tell it’s you. Do you wear them for every read?”
I nodded.
“And you should see the lingerie she wears. My little sis has an entire closet full of lacy, frilly outfits. She even has masks to go with each one.”
“Damn, I want to see that closet,” Bailey whispered.
Phoebe laughed loudly, pointing to something on her phone, before showing her sisters Athena and Freyja, who all snickered, shaking their heads.
“What?” Bailey asked, looking at them.
When Phoebe showed Bailey her phone, the lively woman gasped. “No fucking way!”
“What?” everyone asked.
“Um, Henley, do you ever get requests for private reads?”
“All the time, but I refuse them. I just read the books, then log off. Why?”
“You might want to take this one,” Phoebe chuckled, passing her phone to me. Turning it around, I gasped.
Dear God, please tell me he didn’t.
I smiled as I saw 2Hot4U was requesting a private read. Only this time, in place of an avatar of a hung horse, was a picture of Scribe himself.
Smirking, I replied to the private read: meet me at the place where I first saw you.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Scribe
The second my phone pinged, I grinned.
Quickly looking at the response, I got to my feet. “Well, brothers, it’s late and I need my beauty rest.”
“It’s barely seven o’clock,” Priest noted, looking at his watch.
