Shadowglass

Afternoon sun glared in our shop window, spearing mercilessly through the purple tie-dyed drapes to roast us. The sign outside says CRYSTAL DREAMS, and we dress up like New Age gypsies and pretend to be fortune-tellers, dazzle them with glamour so we can steal their wallets and break into their houses if they look rich.

The air inside had been cooking all day like a dead pig. Hair stuck to my neck in trickles of persistent yellow sweat, and the scent of sandalwood candles stifled me, though we’d stopped burning them when it started to get hot.

Business was slow.

Nonexistent, in fact. Our feathered dream catchers hung stagnant and damp. I sighed and gazed longingly outside, where light breeze ruffled café blinds and shopping bags, fingering lightly through people’s hair like little dancing feet. The urge to flee swamped me like an ocean wave. I imagined the clean smell, sea breeze and pollen and freshly cooked pancakes from the café next door, and my head throbbed in sympathy.

In reality it’d be stinky with exhaust fumes and sweat and city dust. I didn’t care. I wanted out to play, to let the wind ruffle my hair in the park and smell green grass’s cool moisture, or drink in bright salty sea spray.

I wriggled my legs on my wicker chair, the garish sequins on my top flashing in the sun. My silken skirts itched me, damp. Sweat trickled down my bare belly into my navel. Innate longing for cool water flooded my veins.

Charlotte glared up from her puzzle book, damp purple scarf tied loosely over her hair. Heat doesn’t bedraggle her as it does me. It just polishes her beauty a little more. She puffed her wings, wafting cooling breeze over her face. “Be sensible for once, sensible one. How are we supposed to scam anyone if you piss off running around”

“We don’t need another one yet, Char. We just made four and a half grand, remember?”

“Yeah. Half of which you two already spent on booze and pills.”

“It wasn’t half—”

“And the diamond money we already owe to Peter London,” reminded Ashley, who was trying to fly upside down over the coffee table, his feet stuck up in the air and his dangling black hair dripping sweat on the pinewood. He reveled in the heat, being firefae and all. I asked him once why he sweats, if he loves heat so much. He said because it makes him look sexy. I couldn’t argue with that. “In fact, we owe Peter a lot more than that. Five grand more by week’s end.

Fancy getting your wings ripped off by a pale Swedish gangster?”

“And your teeth pulled one by one,” chimed in Char.

“And your claws torn out.”

“And your ears sliced off.

“And a fat ugly cock up your—Ow!” Ash banged his head on the table and tumbled to the floor, lithe denim-clad legs tangling over his head.

“Serves you right, idiot,” I said crossly. “Stop doing that. Someone’ll see.”

Ashley unfolded himself and shook like a wet dog on his knees, wings crackling with green sparks. “Fuck ’em if they do. I don’t care.”

“Well, you should care. What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Nothing. I’m just sick of other people’s fucking rules, Other People.” He glared at me, defiant orange flames flicking around his lashes.

I scowled back, his attitude scratching like a burr. “If Other People didn’t watch out for your ass, you’d be crucified to cardboard in some human’s butterfly collection by now.”

“Uh-huh. You, watching out for my ass. I’ll remember that next time we go to Danny’s.”

Discomfort swelled my blood. I still felt bad about that. But irrational ire twisted my tongue, and words spilled out, coated with un-censored truth. “Yeah, well, maybe you should just let Peter London suck you off instead of giving him the four grand, if you liked it so much.”

I held my breath, blood hurtling too fast in my veins. Uncalled for, Apples. Nasty. Say you’re sorry.

But Ashley just laughed at me, spite smoking from his claws. “Nah. We’d get more per hour for you, seeing as you’re so keen on arrogant assholes with no manners. Is it true you come harder when you’re crying?”

“Stop it, you two.” Charlotte jumped up in a whirl of silken skirt, her nose twitching. “Someone’s coming. Ashley, put your damn glamour back on.”

I swallowed angry words and jerked up from my chair. Char always knew when business was coming. She could smell their intent on the air from down the street.

Fine. We’ll do this one and then I’ll get the hell out and go. Alone.

Stormy static zapped behind me as Ashley ignited his glamour. The doorbell tinkled, and a fat woman waddled in. Sweat sprayed from her rolling limbs and stained her stretched white dress, the colossal outlines of damp underwear clearly visible. White canvas bag with wooden handles, no separate purse. An easy one.

I wrinkled my nose at the sour stink, still smarting from the truth of Ash’s accusation. “Great. The incredible doughnut woman.”

Oops. I said that kinda loud. Giggle.

“Shut up!” hissed Char between her teeth, and raised her voice, wafting her glamour-cloaked wings to puff a cool draft over the sweating woman. “Welcome, lady. Blessings of the stars upon you. How can we be of service?”

The woman shifted, uncertain, the floor creaking under her squashed rubber flip-flops. “I want to know the future.”

Charlotte flashed her dazzling smile, and irritation crawled under my skin. “Of course. Sister Ice will consult the magic crystal. It never lies.”

It never lies.

An epiphany washed over me, refreshing like lazy ocean swell, and a cool iron whisper of truth feathered my skin.

It never lies. How wonderful. How . . . liberating.

I snorted, fortified. “Don’t need no stinkin’ crystal to see your future, lady. An early heart attack and a triple byp—”

“Step this way,” interrupted Charlotte loudly, pushing in front of me to usher the fat woman inside.

I gaped at myself for a moment, remorse stinging my cheeks. What a horrible thing to say.

Stupid, too. We needed the cash. She didn’t look flamboyantly rich like the last one, but the stones in her rings were large, and that was a Rolex digging into her flabby wrist. She could have treasure at home.

But alien mirth erupted in my chest, and I spurted laughter. Horrible, but funny. And true. I was sick of pretending. So, so sick.

Charlotte speared me a warning frown, her mouth tight.

I widened sarcastic eyes at her and flounced into my seat in front of the crystal ball. We found it in a dusty junk shop months ago, when we first came up with this scam. For all I know, it really is magic. “Okay, lady. What’s the story?”

She lowered her sweating turnip-shaped body into the chair. “Well . . . I’ve met this wonderful man, you see. He says he loves me, and that we should get married. I must know if he really . . . If it’ll work out.”

Her tired blue eyes shone with hope, and I winced. Ten to one he was stinging her for her fortune. “Okay. Sure. Give me your hands. . . . What’s your name?”

“Noelene,” snapped Ashley, staring out the window. “Can’t you smell it?”

I glared. He knew I couldn’t sniff out names like he could. “You know what? Screw you, Ash.

Sorry, Noly-poly. Give me your hands—Okay, yuck. That’s gross. Wipe ’em first, can’t you?”

Bewilderment hurt Noelene’s eyes, but she did as I asked.

Charlotte swiped frustrated claws through the air at me. But I ignored her, satisfaction lightening my heart for the first time since Danny’s. It was sniggering, alien satisfaction, but I didn’t care.

I wasn’t on this earth to care what other people thought of me. Screw it, and screw them.

I dragged Noelene’s clammy hands around the glass ball, and as her flabby arm lifted, a petroleum whiff of sweat and overworked deodorant dizzied me. “Shit.” I coughed, but too late.

My vision wobbled, and the images poured in.

Notes

So decided to update again coz I'm trying to distract myself from responsibilities..ugh
And my life atm is literally a 90's rom-com and i kinda just need to get away from all the bullshit that ppl create so a just write my own bullshit.
If that sounds right....it probably sounds completely crazy. Idfk.

Idk hope you like it.
blah blah stay weird

-grimm

-ugh life