A groan filtering from Jace, he scooted onto his haunches in the cramped quarters. He wiped his mouth on the tail of his tee shirt, his narrowed eyes glinting with annoyance. “This better be damned important.”
“We’re leaving for Michigan in the morning.”
Jace blinked. “Wait, you mean…?”
“Yeah.” Aiden pushed the remaining words through clenched teeth. “We’re sharing the sacrifice.”
Chapter Two
“You’re out to get me, aren’t you? This is payback for threatening to replace you with a younger model. Well let me tell ya, this isn’t helping your cause, POC.”
“Hey, lady, do you need some help?”
Blowing a lock of hair away from her eyes, Dana Cooper glanced at the trio of kilted men gawking at her as she straddled the bumper of her Suburban. Apparently they’d never seen a grown woman bitch out an inanimate object before. “No. Got it handled. Thanks though.” Bracing one knee on the rubber ridge of the bumper and an elbow on the left rear door, she threatened POC—aka piece-o-crap—with a trip to the scrap yard. With a mighty tug that almost dislocated her shoulder, she wrenched the stubborn door open. Hopping down from the bumper, she brushed off the skirt of her homemade Renaissance wench’s costume. The men had abandoned her in her time of need. Good, because her boob had popped out of her corset. Again. Grumbling, she tucked her breast securely back in place.
She snagged the piece of plywood she’d fashioned into a ramp and swung it over the bumper. It clattered in place and she maneuvered the bottom part until it wedged tight against the ground. Grabbing the handle of the green kiddie wagon that took up a good portion of the back end of the Suburban, she wheeled it down the ramp. Five minutes later the wagon was loaded with her watercolor prints and she slammed POC’s doors shut.
“Dana!”
The voice calling her name from across the fairground’s parking lot brought a groan to her lips and prickles of dread along the nape of her neck. Turning, she spotted Calvin Harris, better known as whack job ex-boyfriend number four, jogging across the heat-scorched grass dotting the lot. He wore a suit and tie. Hopefully it meant he wouldn’t be sticking around.
Breathing raggedly, he skidded to a halt. Perspiration coated his forehead and dampened his hairline, making it look like his meticulously groomed blond hair was in need of a major root dye job. “Those damn jackasses running the lot wouldn’t let me drive up here.”
“That’s because this area is reserved for workers and vendors.” She squinted, giving him her best Dirty Harry impression. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Tony.”
Her new intern. Damn it, she’d forgotten to warn him about her whack-a-doodle ex. Tossing her keys in her skirt pocket, she speared Calvin with an impatient glance. “I’m running late. What do you want?”
“You. This trial separation isn’t working. It’s time to stop playing around.”
She gaped at him, dumbfounded that someone who claimed to have an IQ of 140 could be so clueless. “How can you possibly interpret me saying I never want to see you again as a trial separation?”
Calvin’s classically handsome face took on the patronizing look she knew so well. God, what an arrogant prick. Why hadn’t she recognized the signs when they first started dating seven months ago? He must have sidetracked her by brainwashing her with sex. Pretty damn pathetic on her part, since he wasn’t even that decent in the sack. Thank God she’d had a vibrator to take up the slack, and a boatload of erotic dreams featuring some kinky sexcapades with a dragon, of all things.
“We both know you didn’t really mean it. We’re good together, Dana. Admit it.” His hand groped for her cheek.
Swatting him away, she ducked out of reach. “I’m not saying this again. Stay the hell away from me. Don’t call. Don’t send flowers. Don’t forward pictures of your penis to my cell phone.” That last bit had been particularly creepy. “If you continue doing any of those things, I will get a restraining order against you.”
“But—”
“I’m dead serious. No more.” Tuning out his sputtered response, she grasped the wagon’s handle and strode toward the worker’s entrance to the fairgrounds. She flashed her badge to the guard at the gate and made her way toward her booth.
“Dana!”
Thankfully this time the voice shouting her name belonged to Madam Haddie, the woman who ran the tarot booth across from Dana.
“Get your buns over here, girl. The cards are warmed up and raring to go.”
Last weekend she’d traded a box of her hand-painted note cards for three tarot readings. So far, she’d discovered her bank account was drier than the Sahara and her cat was pissed at her because she’d cut back on the kitty treats. While both had landed frighteningly dead center on the bull’s-eye, neither were exactly newsflashes. She was beginning to think maybe she should have traded for one of Haddie’s magical pet rocks instead. Leaving her wagon inside her small artist’s hut, she wandered to Haddie’s table and plopped into the wooden chair across from the elderly woman.
Today Haddie wore a voluminous velvet cape in the same vibrant shade of lavender as her hair. Dana grinned. “Great job color coordinating.”
“Thank you, dear.” Haddie fluffed her frizzy fro. “What do you think of my earrings? My granddaughter gave them to me.”
Dana leaned forward and inspected the tiny Scooby-Doos dangling from Haddie’s lobes. “Oh yeah. Très chic.” For a seventy-four-year-old, Haddie totally knew how to rock the eccentric look.
Haddie rearranged her cape before extending her arms. “Come, let us summon the eye of future enlightenment.” Grasping Dana’s hands, she started humming the theme song from Jeopardy! According to Haddie, that was the best way to dial a 4-1-1 to the oracle community. Apparently they found Alex Trebek hubba hubba sexy.
Satisfied she’d gotten through, Haddie let go of Dana and gestured to the pile of cards sitting between them. “Break the deck into three stacks.” She waited until Dana did as told and then flipped the top card from each section. One stubby fingernail painted with glittery lime green polish tapped the farthest card to the left. “Five of swords. An ongoing battle. Didn’t you buy Ms. Whiskers a bag of goodies like I suggested?”
“Yes.” Dana averted her gaze when Haddie’s penciled-in eyebrows arched. “Okay, they were the generic brand. Things have been tight. She’s just going to have to deal.”
Her mouth twitching into a knowing smile, Haddie returned her attention to the cards. “Three of wands. Something big is headed your way.”
Dana immediately perked up. So far, this reading was going way better than the last one. “Lottery winnings? That would be awesome.”
“Hmm, try again.” Haddie held up the final card, her grin stretched wide enough to show off her dentures.
An entwined couple graced the glossy surface of the card. Dana read the two words printed in flowery script at the bottom and almost choked on her tongue. Releasing a hacking cough, she shot her hands toward Haddie, making the sign of the cross. “No, no, no. Hell no.”
Haddie’s twinkling brown eyes dimmed, their spidery web of crow’s feet deepening with her frown. “What’s the matter? Usually folks are overjoyed when they see the Lovers.”
“Probably because they haven’t dated a long string of men who escaped from a psych ward.”
“Sorry, my dearie, but the die is cast.” Haddie clucked her tongue. “You can’t turn your back on fate.”