The Fire Eater and Her Dragon by S W Clarke & Ramy Vance

Author:S W Clarke & Ramy Vance [Clarke, S W & Vance, Ramy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keep Evolving Studios
Published: 2020-03-03T22:00:00+00:00

I set a hand to my chest. “Moi?”

The old woman smiled, eyes crinkling. “Who else?” She gestured to one of the seats in the lobby. “Would you like to sit down?”

As strange and supposedly impossible as it was that this woman had noticed me while I had the tarnkappe on, her offer to sit was even stranger.

Of course, the strangest part of all was that I felt encouraged to do so. Not compelled or coerced, or any feeling that might make me suspicious of her—just curious.

By the time I sat down in the seat she had pointed to, Erik had forgotten I was even there. He turned, hovering near a window as he scrolled through his phone with that same agitated expression.

The woman sat next to me. “He’s cute.”

I glanced at her, found her eyes on Erik. “A bit straight-laced.”

“That doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“Oh?” I tilted my head. “And how can you tell that?”

“Well, your eyes went straight to him. We don’t usually study young, attractive men we don’t find intriguing.”

I leaned back in the seat. “I don’t have time for much more than looking.”

She dropped back into her seat as well, gazing out over the emergency room. “Looking’s all right. It’s the first step to seeing.”

I don’t know how, but I had a strong feeling that I was sitting next to a woman who had found her purpose in life. She just seemed at ease with herself.

“I’m Tara,” I said. “Tara Drake.”

Her two-toned eyes shifted to me, mirth swimming in her expression. “Tara Drake—it’s a clever stage name. Earth and air, right?”

I looked at her anew. How did she know it wasn’t my real name? No matter what I said, it felt like she could see right through me. “Actually, my mother used to call me that when I was a girl. Tara, because I fell in the mud a lot. She used to pick me up and comfort me.”

A faraway expression crossed her face, almost as though she was watching the scene unfold as I described it. “She sounds like she was a good mother.”

Was. Not is a good mother, or sounds like one.

She was.

Again, it was almost like this woman knew.

I stared at her, trying to figure out who—or what—she was. She looked like a human, but I sensed an aura about her. Not to mention, she knew things. Things she shouldn’t know about a stranger.

After a moment, she said, “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I am struggling with an inner demon that’s trying to possess me.”

The old woman chuckled.

“Yeah,” I said, “I wouldn’t believe me, either.”

“I’ll tell you this—you don’t look like anyone who’s going to lay down and let a demon kick her ass.” She lifted one hand, set it over my forearm. “You’ve got this, Patience.”

My chest caught.

She knew my name.

I didn’t move my arm, even though a jolt went through me. How did she know my name? At the same time, it felt like she would know my name.

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