Free Angel Fire by L. A. Weatherly

usually this blunt, but he could tell that on some level the woman already knew it was hopeless; it was why she’d stopped to get a reading from him. Now she winced, and ducked her head down. “I’ve been praying so hard to the angels that things will work out,” she said in a whisper. “I thought – I thought so many more of them arriving might be a sign they’d heard me.”
    “The angels are very kind,” said Seb diplomatically. He could see that the woman’s energy field was undamaged; she was just one of the ones who loved the angels anyway. There were plenty of them, and now that the angels’ numbers had increased by so many, he supposed there’d soon be plenty more. “But I can hear them now,” he went on, “and they’re saying to me that you shouldn’t wait for Carlos.”
    The woman’s eyes widened. Okay, he was making this part up – but he had to give her something , or else she wouldn’t make the break. “They want you to get on with your life,” he said firmly. “To be happy. You haven’t been happy in a long time, Señorita. ”
    By the time the woman left, her expression was thoughtful; Seb could sense the hope that had taken root in her. He leaned back against a palm tree, savouring the mental silence. A few hours of readings had left him as drained as an empty bottle. He wasn’t really sure why he put so much into them, for only a hundred pesos. When he’d made the decision to quit thieving, readings had just been a way to keep from starving – and back then, he hadn’t bothered to make much effort; he’d cobbled together quick fortunes from whatever he saw. Somehow, as the years had passed, he’d started caring a lot more.
    Thinking of the angels’ arrival, Seb sighed. When he’d glimpsed some of the TV footage in a cafe two days before, he’d wondered for a heart-pounding moment if the presence of so many more angels might somehow lead him to his half-angel girl after all. But he couldn’t see how it might – and so for him, the world hadn’t changed, despite how much happiness the angels’ arrival might have brought everyone else. The realization had depressed him; he’d avoided looking at the footage after that.
    Seb scraped a hand roughly across his stubble – enough of this. As he got to his feet, a female voice called his name. Turning, he saw two girls a year or two older than he was heading towards him – both with bright American smiles and bouncing ponytails. “Hey, remember us?” said the redhead in English as they reached him.
    “How could I forget?” Seb swung his knapsack over his shoulder. Lucy and someone else. Amanda, that was it. They were part of a group of American students staying at the same hostel that he was; Seb had sat up with a few of them the night before, drinking and talking. The girls’ Spanish wasn’t nearly as fluent as they thought, so that he’d found it easier to speak to them in English, which he’d picked up from giving readings to American tourists over the years. He spoke a little French too – was good at languages almost without trying. He knew being psychic helped.
    “So, are you finished with ‘work’?” asked Lucy the redhead, giving him a flirtatious smile as she made quote marks in the air. They’d thought it was hilarious that he gave psychic readings. He wouldn’t have bothered telling them, except that one of their group had seen him here in the marketplace the day before. “Because if you are,” she went on, “maybe you could show us the sights.”
    He hesitated. Both girls were pretty and fun to be with, but all he really felt like doing was going back to the hostel and reading his book – maybe sitting outside with a cigarette. But Lucy was already laughing, pulling at his arm. “We’re not taking no for an answer. Besides, you promised last night.”
    “I don’t remember this,” he said, smiling despite himself.
    “Well, you practically did. Come on, give us the grand tour of el mercado – we