Verum (The Nocte Trilogy 2)

“That’s not necessary,” I tell her, backing away. “Really.”

She stares at me wordlessly, until I finally sigh and sink to a seat in a chair in front of her. It might be a load of crap, but it won’t hurt anything.

Probably.

She shuffles the cards, then offers them to me. “Draw one.”

I do, and she splits the deck where I touched.

One by one, she methodically lays the cards out in a cross shape.

“The Three of Swords,” she murmurs. “It means you’re separated from someone you love.”

“My mom and Finn,” I nod. She clucks.

“Yes. But you’re separated from someone else you love, and it’s a self-imposed separation. You didn’t have to do it, but you did anyway. Curious.”

Dare. His loss is just as painful.

She sticks her nose back in the cards.

“The Six of Wands.” She glances up. “The fruits of your labor will pay off somehow. Your efforts will be successful.”

“My efforts with what?”

She doesn’t answer. She’s already on to the next card.

“Hmm, interesting.” She peers at the card in her hand, then glances up at me. “The Nine of Cups. It’s sometimes referred to as the Wish card. Something you desire will bring you fulfillment.”

“What do I desire?” I ask quietly. There’s one thing I desire more than anything, for Finn to still be alive. And her freaking cards can’t help with that.

A small smile dances across her lips.

“The cards don’t tell me that. That is for you to know.”

She picks up the next card.

“Ah, this one I would expect. The High Priestess. It symbolizes a duality of forces, the moon and stars. The High Priestess can access the psyche and the conscious, she can defy natural laws. But she also represents mystery and secrets.”

“And what does that mean in English?” I ask dumbly.

“It means that you and Finn are halves of a whole. It also means that you don’t know yourself yet, that you have many parts. The rest you must discover on your own.”

I sigh.

I feel her gaze on me. “This one is interesting. The Lovers.”

My head snaps up. “And that one means?”

Sabine looks back at the table. “It’s self-explanatory.”

Heat flushes my cheeks and I drum my hand against my leg. “That one must be a mistake.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” she answers. “Use care with him, child. He’s a good boy, but he’ll be your ruin.”

A flash of white hot fire rages through my gut in surprise. He’ll be my ruin? How overly dramatic.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I deny, knowing full well who she means. She glances at me but for a second.