Page 1 of Bloodstained Chrome

Chapter

One

Sibley

“There has to be more! Please . . . I’ll pay more. Just tell me what else I’m supposed to do.” Greta leans forward on the table, pleading.

It’s always more of the same. No matter how many times I tell the people who come into the shop that I’m not in the business of changing the future, they still want to know more.

More of what they shouldn’t have known. No one should know what the future holds in the first place.

Honestly, it’s getting tiring. It was foolish of me to offer fortune-telling in Arley’s shop. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place, but standing around a shop isn’t as pleasant as I thought it would be when I offered to help.

If Arley wasn’t in a flipping coma at the Spiked Raiders MC clubhouse, I wouldn’t be here. But here I am, helping a woman who doesn’t even know me keep her shop running and using my seer abilities. Sure, playing a psychic for the locals is easy. The problem is, there are times I see things people don’t want to know about.

That’s exactly what’s happening now with Greta. I’ve just given her some less-than-ideal information about a love interest she’s been so sure would be her happily ever after. Turns out it won’t be. Life never is.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing more I can tell you. Just stay true to yourself, and you’ll be fine.” I smile gently at her.

Greta reclines in her seat and shoots me a glare, as if her angry expression could influence my decision or change her fate.

After a few moments, when she doesn’t get the reaction she’s clearly looking for, Greta grabs her bag, rummages through it for a few seconds, then literally throws a few crumpled bills my way.

“I should’ve listened to my friends. You’re nothing more than a hack who preys on vulnerable, innocent people. Nothing you’ve said will come true. I don’t even know why I’m listening to you. You’re a fake.”

More of the same.

If it’s not what they want to hear, they all get mad. Why come in to ask about your future? Why demand more information? You have to be willing to listen and accept what is given.

I sigh and wait for her to finish her little tirade before she turns and walks out of the store. The front door slams so hard when she leaves that a few of the crystals and baubles on the shelf near the door fall to the ground.

Thankfully, none of the trinkets or crystals have broken. I don’t want to write anything off as a loss. The last thing I want to do is run this business into the ground for Arley.

There is a dull ache behind my eyes, and I rub my hand along the bridge of my nose, trying to ease the discomfort that has settled there more often than not lately.

After thousands of years of doing this, getting visions should be easier, but it’s not. It always leaves me more than a little uncomfortable and achy.

There should be something more than this. More than what I’ve been doing all this time. This ability, which I was born with, has blessed me, and I’ve done quite a bit with it. But giving premonitions has become tiring at best. Sure, my sight has saved lives, but this gnawing sense of being unfulfilled is pressing deep inside me.

I’m utterly bored.

Leaning back on my heels, I look around the small shop, trying to find something, anything, that sparks my interest. Maybe a new hobby for me to take up. Something I can do to take my mind off the time that never seems to stop moving but takes me nowhere.

Time.

My eyes jerk to the side, and I see the clock ticking away. It’s nearly nine at night. The sun has long since set, and darkness has replaced the beautiful light. Being what I am, I’m lucky to survive both light and dark, not just a seer but a vampire. It’s a gift granted to me by Orpheus when he changed both my brother and me.

Unfortunately for me, realizing how much time has passed, I find myself sorely underpaid for my services here. Greta was here for nearly an hour. Her session was only supposed to be fifteen minutes.

Quickly, I finish cleaning up the mess Greta left in her wake. I do have somewhere to be—the clubhouse. I need to go in and check on Arley. It’s not like there’s much I can do for her. Arley’s condition is stable, yet she lies in a coma, her abilities depleted as her body does what it needs to do to recover what was stolen. I like to think she can hear me, but there has been little change in her condition.

It’ll be good for me to get out of this shop, though.

Movement.

That’s what I need. I just need to keep my mind moving. Maybe the guys at the clubhouse are having a party or something.

I need to find a reason to lose myself for at least a moment.