Free Angel Fire by L. A. Weatherly Page A

want to see a typical Mexican marketplace.”
    He gave in. Why not? It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do with his time, now that he was no longer searching. The thought brought a wince of pain; he pushed it away.
    “All right,” he said. He raked his hair back; he could feel the curls hanging over his forehead, annoying him. “The first thing, I think, is that we go and find something to eat.”
    “Ooh, good idea,” said Amanda. She had dark hair and eyebrows that were too perfect to be natural. “Lead the way.”
    The bright chaos of the marketplace enveloped them: vendors shouting their bargains; the smell of spicy food cooking; crowds of shoppers. Seb had been in Chihuahua for almost two weeks now. After his decision at the orphanage, he’d hitched a ride with the first truck he’d seen to wherever it was going, but had somehow felt compelled to get off here – so strongly that he’d almost shouted at the truck driver to stop. It didn’t make much sense to him now; the town was as dusty and run-down as he remembered. Still, he supposed it was as good a place as any to figure out what to do with the rest of his life.
    The problem was, he had no idea – all he knew was that ever since he’d arrived in Chihuahua, he’d had a feeling there was something he was supposed to be doing. It was a constant irritation, like a bee buzzing at his head.
    They got tacos and wandered around the stalls. Lucy kept close to him as they walked, frequently touching his arm as she and Amanda chattered about the Copper Canyon train trip their group was taking the next morning, to see the plunging canyons of the Sierra Madre. They were excited about experiencing the “real Mexico”, which amused Seb. The Copper Canyon tour – so safe and so geared for American tourists – was not remotely like the real Mexico he knew.
    “You’ll have a good time,” was all he said. “Make sure you don’t fall out the window – it’s a long way down.”
    “Hey, maybe you could come with us!” Lucy gave a little skip to get ahead of him, walking backwards. She was wearing tight jeans, and a halter top that showed off her creamy skin. “Why don’t you? I’m sure we can get you a ticket. We’d have a great time!”
    Amanda rolled her eyes. “Um, hello – we had to book those tickets months ago, remember? There’s no way we can get him one.”
    “It’s okay, I’ve seen it,” said Seb. He crumpled up the wax paper that his taco had come in, pitching it into a garbage can. He was dryly aware that even as he was talking to the girls, part of him was scanning every aura he passed. Yes, he’d certainly given up searching – didn’t even think about it any more.
    Lucy gave a little pout. “Oh. Well, will you still be here in a few days? Doing your psychic readings ?” She bantered the words, making it clear that she didn’t believe in that stuff for a second.
    “Maybe – I haven’t decided yet.” Or decided what to do with the gaping years ahead of him, either. Not wanting to think about it, he said, “Who knows, maybe I’ll give it all up and become a violinist.”
    “A violinist?” Amanda nudged him. “No way, you look like you’re strictly an electric-guitar man. I keep expecting you to whip out your axe and start doing ‘Stairway to Heaven’.”
    Seb held back a smile. He could never resist an opening like this. “No, my father’s a classical violinist,” he said seriously. “I guess it’s just in the blood, you know?”
    She blinked. “Really?”
    “Yes, I was raised on that stuff. My mother’s an opera singer. She plays too, though. Piano. She says it helps her relax, so she likes to take it on tour with her – it’s so difficult getting it on flights. Because it always has to be her piano; no other one will do.”
    Amanda’s brown eyes had gone wide. “Wow – are you serious?”
    “ No , he’s not serious,” laughed Lucy. “Get your brain in gear, Amanda.”
    The dark-haired girl made a