she corrected. His egotism was unflinching, but it was consistent. “But yes.” She shook her head and resisted the urge to slap him. Barely. “The Five of Wands. Conflict and rivalry. Strife awaits you.”
“With whom? You?”
She picked up the deck of cards, rifled her finger down the side of it, and pulled out a card where she felt the urge to stop. The Page of Wands. “No. Someone else.” That card was not her. One of the hunters, perhaps. But she was not certain which one.
“Then I do not care.”
She sighed. Of course, he ignored her warning. She moved on. She tapped the next card. “This card represents how people view you. How you are seen by the world around you.” She touched the Devil. “Do I need to elaborate?”
He laughed. “No.”
She moved on to the next. “Your hopes and fears.”
“In one card?”
“That which we hope can also be that which we fear, in its absence. And now you see why I do not read cards inverted.” She looked down at the card in question. “The Hermit. You hope to find guidance, you hope to find your inner truth, but you think you may be lost. You worry that you are without redemption. You fear that in the end, all that you are is meaningless.”
Vlad was silent.
So, she moved on. “The future is twofold.” She tapped the two cards that sat beside each other. The Ten of Swords and the Lovers. “Defeat—utter surrender. Surrounded on all sides, beaten and broken. Or…love. The choice is yours what road you will take.”
She moved to swipe the cards away, but his hands stopped hers. Pressed her hands down against them and refused to let her clean the table.
“Love with whom? Who awaits me at the end of that path?”
She sat back and watched him warily. “I don’t know.”
“Ask the cards, if you do not know.” He motioned to the stack of cards. She hesitated. He urged again. “Ask.”
She picked up the deck, rifled her thumb down the side, and placed a card in the center of the table. The Moon.
“Who does that represent?” He pressed her. She suspected he knew the answer.
Her face grew warm, flushing. She shut her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“You lie. Say it, Maxine. Tell me who waits for me at the end of that road, should I take it. Who waits to welcome me from the jaws of defeat?”
Her heart wrenched in her chest, and she sank lower in her chair. “I—It would presume too much to—” She put her hand over her face and tried her best to hide it. That card had always represented her for as long as she had read them.
His hand touched her wrist. He was no longer sitting but standing over her. Once more his chair had not moved—he had not pushed it away. Fingers curled underneath her chin and tipped her head up to look at him. The sense of him rolled over her. Restrained, but close. The more she touched him—or rather, the more he touched her—the less out of control it became. “Do not hide from me, Maxine.”
“I am not—” She could deny it, but it was true. She was hiding. Hiding her face. Hiding everything. She looked up at him and met his crimson eyes and stopped her protests. Once more, hypnotism was not to blame. It was simply the fathomless depths of red that had done the deed.
“You have no need to shy away from me. Not now, not ever.” He leaned down and placed a kiss against her forehead. “Come. I would like to walk with you. Sunset has come, and the city is beautiful at this time of night.”
“I will need to get properly dressed.”
He chuckled, looking down at her housedress. She felt her face grow warm again under his scrutiny. “No need. Throw on a coat. No one will know the difference. Otherwise, I will be happy to assist you.” That wicked smile returned to his face. “If so…do strip, and I will be happy to lace your corset.”
“I—I—” She swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed him away from her. “No!” She coughed. “No. A coat will be fine.” Her face was burning as she stood from her chair and went to her wardrobe, fetching one of her long, thin coats, despite the summer air. Pulled tightly over her, he was right. No one would know she was half-dressed underneath.
He chuckled. “For shame. Although I do admit I would prefer to remove your