Resting her palm on his, she returned her attention to the cards. “I’m seeing deception. A lot of it.” She shook her head. “Divided loyalties. Betrayal. Something’s coming, Aidan. And when whatever happens goes down, you aren’t going to know who to trust.”
He frowned. She made it sound as if he would face whatever turbulence came alone. What of his immortal brethren? Why would they not be by his side?
The only time he had ever lost faith in any of them or eroded theirs in him was when he had broken into network headquarters and stolen the list of gifted ones. Seth had mistakenly believed Aidan had sided with the enemy responsible for Lisette’s near death. The powerful immortal leader and longtime friend had actually wanted Aidan dead until Aidan had clarified things.
But they were good now. Had been for a while.
Sure Chris Reordon still bore a grudge against him, but even he trusted Aidan to take care of business when someone needed help. So why did Dana believe Aidan would face whatever fight lay ahead without them?
He curled his fingers around hers, holding her hand as she frowned down at the cards.
Her skin was so soft. Her fingers so small.
Those fingers abruptly tightened on his, clamping down in an almost painful grip.
Reading her thoughts, Aidan saw the cards and table disappear, replaced by light.
Two men swam out of the brightness, engaged in fierce battle. Aidan didn’t notice where—if they were inside, outside, in the city or in the country—because he was too shocked by the combatants themselves.
He and Seth fought each other with a ferocity that filled his blood with ice. Their eyes glowed—his amber, Seth’s gold. Each clutched swords in both hands and swung them mercilessly, remaining in constant motion, their faces twisted with fury and determination as they did their damnedest to slay each other.
Dana yanked her hand from his grasp and leapt to her feet. Stumbling backward, away from the table, she tripped over one of the legs and nearly fell but regained her balance quickly enough to remain upright.
Stunned, Aidan slowly rose. And damned if his hands didn’t begin to shake as violently as hers did.
What the hell?
Dana said nothing, just regarded him with wide eyes, her lips parted in shock.
“Dana?” he forced himself to say in the most even tone he could muster.
She didn’t know he had just seen everything she had. She didn’t know he could read her thoughts, which now scrambled for purchase as they chased themselves around and around in her head.
“Did you see something?” he asked her.
She nodded. “You and another man trying to kill each other with swords.”
He swallowed. Think quickly. Think quickly. What would the younger immortals say? “I…” He feigned a chagrined smile. “I hate to mention this, because I don’t want you to think I’m a”—what was the word Cliff would use?—“a geek. But I’m a member of a reenactment group.”
He supposed it wasn’t technically a lie. He did spar regularly with immortal warriors who fought with blades the way battles had been fought centuries ago. Wouldn’t some consider that reenacting?
Her mouth closed. Her eyes lost some of the deer-in-the-headlights look. “Like a… like a medieval reenactment group? With swords and that kind of thing?”
Roland and Marcus were from the Middle Ages. He sparred with them. “Yes.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Okay.” She nodded, trying to rationalize it, make it work. “Okay. So you do the sword-fighting thing on a regular basis?”
“Yes.” That was certainly no lie. He fought vampires every night. But it didn’t explain the glow she had seen in his and Seth’s eyes.
Mankind’s inability to believe in magic or the fantastical came to his aid there. Even as he sought some way to explain it, she began to question whether or not she had actually seen it. Had his eyes and those of his opponent glowed? Or had it merely been a trick of the light?
Fortunately for him, neither he nor Seth had flashed fangs in the vision.
“Okay,” she repeated, her heartbeat slowing. “I gather you take that pretty seriously? I mean, you guys really looked like you were trying to kill each other.”
Yes, they had. And Aidan’s stomach clenched at the knowledge. “You think I’m a geek now, don’t you?” he jested.
She relaxed a little more. “No.”
“First I say caboose. Now this.”
She smiled. “Actually, I thought your caboose was cute.” Her eyes widened. “The caboose,” she corrected hastily. “I thought the caboose was cute. Your saying it, I mean.”
He winked. “I prefer the first one.”
She laughed. “I bet you do.” She motioned to the table. “Do you want to continue the reading?”
He shook his head. “I think I’d better take my leave before I say or reveal anything else embarrassing.”
She nodded at the cards. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you exactly what’s coming, just that it’s not good.”
He and Seth engaged in what appeared to be a battle to the death was a wee bit worse than not good. “I appreciate the heads-up.”
Aidan followed her out of the room and to the front of the store where he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and handed her his credit card. “Would you be averse to my making another appointment?”
She smiled up at him. “Not at all.”
“Excellent.”
“Any particular time of day?”
Just tell her anytime is good. Don’t rush things. “I know you now see me as a geek with a dangerous job, G-rated language, and a penchant for swords,” he began, cursing his own eagerness, “but is there any chance I could take your latest appointment and coax you into joining me for dinner afterward?”
She stared up at him.
“Or coffee?” he suggested. “Maybe some pie or ice cream?” He frowned. “What is it that women like to do when they’re testing the waters and deciding whether or not they want a man to court them?” No, that wasn’t right. “Or want to date him,” he corrected. “I meant date him.”
She grinned. He is just too freaking cute.
He relaxed when that thought came through, loud and clear. Cute was good, wasn’t it?
“How about Wednesday night, seven o’clock?” she suggested.
He grinned back. “Wednesday night it is.” Offering her a quick good-night, he left her shop feeling more lighthearted than he had in centuries.
Until he thought of her last vision.
What the hell was he going to do that would make Seth want to kill him?
Again?
Aidan jerked awake.
Though the room around him was dark, he had no difficulty seeing. His preternaturally sharp vision allowed him to make out objects in the lowest light conditions, though color could be difficult to discern.
Glancing around, he found nothing out of place. No one had invaded his new apartment. No doorbell chimed.
So what had woken him?
Voices filled his head. Louder than the voices of the employees who worked the day shift at network headquarters. Uglier voices. Craving violence. Urging the recipient of their cries to commit it.
Cliff.
Rising, Aidan drew on pants, a shirt, socks, and boots.