Pure Hell (Seventh Level Book 1) by Charity Parkerson & Regina Puckett

Author:Charity Parkerson & Regina Puckett [Parkerson, Charity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal romance
Publisher: Punk & Sissy Publications
Published: 2016-05-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

It was wonderful what a couple of hours of sleep could do for a person. Mark was as good as his word in making certain nothing happened to her while she slept. He stayed by her side until she fell asleep and was there when she woke up. He waited outside the bathroom door while she showered. As soon as she was dressed, she wanted to rush over to meet the psychic, but he insisted on taking her out for a late breakfast. She had never had anyone in her life who had taken such an interest in her welfare. She found it sweet and comforting, but soon enough the strong odor of incense burning was stinging Anne’s nose. She’d never understood how anyone could stand the smell of it.

The inside of Madame Curion’s Fortunes was exactly as Anne pictured such a place to be. A flashing neon hand with an eye in the center of its palm hung in the window. Purple, sheer lace covered the lights casting an eerie glow throughout the room. Mark had fought her tooth and nail over her going in alone, but in the end Anne wore him down. If the psychic had lied, or at the very least omitted information the last time they spoke, Anne doubted Mark’s presence would help her get answers. In the end, he’d agreed to wait outside but he was not happy with her about it.

Anne pushed the worry aside. She was there for a reason. Concentrating on her surroundings, she took note of the only employee in sight. A young girl with unnaturally black hair, lips and fingernails sat perched on a stool behind the cash register looking bored. Her skin was a stark white in comparison to her dark clothing.

“Welcome to Madame Curion’s Fortunes. How can I help you?” This welcome speech was delivered with the lack of enthusiasm only a teenager could pull off.

“I’m hoping to speak to Madame Curion, if I can? My sister, Kylie, worked here before her death.”

“You’re related to Kylie?” the clerk asked dropping the monotone act. “I didn’t know she had any family. Wait right there and I’ll get Madame for you.” Springing from her chair, Anne watched as the light flickered off the silver skull buckles of the girl’s boots as she crossed the room. At a curtain-covered doorway, she poked her head in and whispered something Anne could not hear. The curtain ripped back revealing the woman standing behind it.

In sharp contrast to the gothic teenager, this woman was shiny. Anne couldn’t think of a better way to describe her. Her hair was platinum blonde and huge gold-hooped earrings dangled from her ears. Her eyes were bright blue and her flowing dress was a pink near to being considered neon. Anne almost felt the need to squint while looking directly at her as if staring into the sun.

The woman eyed her from head to toe. “Miss Trace,” she called in a dreamy voice.

Anne nodded and shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

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