Free Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) by Shauna Granger

shape was forming in my mind, but I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to give it shape, even if I had a pretty good idea about whom she was speaking.
    The woman closed her eyes again and lifted a hand, waving it around as if trying to shift invisible things out of her way. “Yes,” she hissed, making a fist and grabbing something invisible. “F, I see an F.”
    Fletcher. My mouth went dry, and the vague shape in my mind formed against my will. I hadn’t even wanted to think his name. He was tall and lean with brown hair and fair skin, all wrapped up in black leather and silver buckles, with an easy smile. He’d helped me at great personal risk, and all because he was just a good guy. Those were hard to come by. But I had promised myself no more vampires. I had also promised myself that one day I would stake Theo for the hell she’d put me through.
    “F,” I whispered. “You’re sure?”
    “Yes.” She nodded, opening her eyes to look at me. “This man is F.” She pointed at the card from before, and I nodded. “He is good for you. This one”—she pointed at a different card—“is all heart-break and blood. Pain and suffering. And this one”—she pointed at a third card—“will never let you have him. You face much heartache if you follow that road. But if you follow the other?” She shrugged and leaned back in her chair, picking up her pipe and puffing on it. “Down this other road is the possibility of love and joy. It is an easier, perhaps safer, road. And, I must say, that would be quite the change for a tricky witch like you, Matilda Kavanagh.”
    ***
    The bright sunlight was a shock of pain when I opened the tiny door and stumbled out of the psychic’s caravan. I held up my hand to shield my eyes once I’d caught my balance, stopping just short of the fire ring in the center of that cluster of vehicles. A wave of noise rushed at me, a cacophony of squealing cheers and laughter surrounding me on all sides. I felt tiny hands reaching for me, grabbing and pulling on my clothing. I grabbed my bag and held it close to my chest to protect it as I blinked the white spots out of my vision.
    “Easy!” I yelled. “Calm down, jeez!”
    When I could see clearly again, I realized I was surrounded by children. They were a mix of human and Were pups, only their golden eyes making them discernible.
    “Witch, witch, show us a trick,” they chanted over and over until they drew the attention of a few curious adults. But the adults stood back, hiding in the shade provided by RV campers and wooden wagons. “Witch, witch, show us a trick!”
    They weren’t going to let me pass if I didn’t comply. Two Were pups, one girl and one boy, were on all fours, scuttling around me and sniffing my feet, nearly making me trip. I had the vicious thought of digging out my knockout powder and sending them all off to La La Land as the trick they were so anxious to see.
    “Witch, witch, show us a trick!”
    I wondered, briefly, how they knew I was a witch, but these were gypsy children. Their intuition and spiritual gifts would be very strong so early in life, promising things to come as they got older.
    “All right, all right,” I said, holding my hands up in surrender.
    I snatched my bag up again when one of the young human boys got a little too close to it for my comfort. I shook my head at him, and something in my eye made him scurry away to hide behind the skirt of a slightly older girl. They all had smudges of dirt and mud on their hands and arms, and even faces in some cases. Their clothing was bright and colorful, if a little tattered and worn, speaking of possible hand-me-downs for more than one generation. But they all looked up at me with bright, hopeful eyes, excitement for adventure that I hadn’t known for a long time. I realized I wanted to show them that trick they were all so hungry for.
    When the chanting stopped, they all backed up a little, standing around me. I racked my brain for a trick they