Read Online Poison in the Blood by Robyn Bachar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robyn Bachar
Ads: Link
black silk gloves, because they were certain to reveal my identity. My new, colorful pair of gloves did not dampen my abilities, and allowed me to read her energy with much greater ease.
“It is very courageous of you to start a new life in a new country,” I said. “And you are very fortunate to have such a stalwart friend in Dr. Bennett to accompany you here.”
The guardian nodded, and this time I was able to discern affection in her feelings toward Dr. Bennett. Of course it would take more digging to determine whether that affection could have romantic undertones, but I noted it and sat back, plotting my next move.
Before we arrived, Miss Dubois donned a glamour charm, which I had heard of but never previously witnessed. With the use of glamour, faeries could change their forms at will, and an alchemist had somehow distilled that magic into a talisman allowing Miss Dubois to make subtle changes to her appearance. She was immediately disguised as my sister, or rather as Miss Rose’s sister Delia, and after replacing her blonde locks with brunette and her blue eyes with gray she looked much more like my kin than my own sisters.
Upon our arrival I discovered that there were two types of women in attendance at the salon: young women who were not yet married, like our guide, Mrs. Clara Harding’s friend Miss Thistlegoode, and spinsters who were past their prime. Rather like I had been before miraculously finding my soul mate, so my heart went out to those women. It is a lonely place to be on the shelf, watching younger, more attractive women make happy matches, knowing that you will never experience their joy.
Miss Dubois was rather past her prime as well, being over thirty, but as magicians our lifespans were longer than those of our nonmagical cousins. She may yet have good childbearing years, and I knew nothing at all of guardian traditions. Their constitutions were far hardier than any other breed of magician. Miss Dubois might breeze through the labor difficulties that had nearly done me in.
There were a handful of young men in attendance as well, most of the foppish variety. In my humble opinion, I did not want a lover who dressed better than I did.
“Miss Rose, we were so excited when we heard about your interest in our little group,” the hostess, Mrs. Robertson, exclaimed as she greeted us.
“I am thrilled that you would allow me to do a reading. I don’t often have the chance to speak about my work,” I replied.
“Your imagery is so expressive. I’m looking forward to hearing about your inspiration.” Mrs. Robertson’s enthusiasm seemed so sincere that I was unprepared for it and merely nodded and blushed in reply. After being subjected to Sarah’s sneering criticism, compliments made me wary, for I expected them to be followed by a cutting remark.
“Ah, Miss Thistlegoode, how lovely to see you again,” Miss Dubois said. I turned and smiled at the young woman. She was a witch, like Mrs. Harding, and my fingers itched with the urge to match her. I was certain that there could be a marriage in her near future.
Miss Thistlegoode beamed at us. She touched my arm, and I felt a strong impression of her urge to help us. She very much wanted justice for her friend, and would do anything in her power to aid our investigation. Her eagerness was encouraging and boded well for the evening. I requested that she introduce us to the other guests in attendance, and we began making our way around the room.
It seemed strange that there might be a murderer amongst the magicians attending the salon. They seemed an amiable lot, and I began to despair that this avenue of investigation was not going to lead us anywhere. If we could not discover something here, we would need to wait until the killer abducted another victim, which was not an option we wanted to occur.
With no leads to speak of before my reading, I turned my attention toward doing my best. I had never read to a group before, at least not to a
“It is very courageous of you to start a new life in a new country,” I said. “And you are very fortunate to have such a stalwart friend in Dr. Bennett to accompany you here.”
The guardian nodded, and this time I was able to discern affection in her feelings toward Dr. Bennett. Of course it would take more digging to determine whether that affection could have romantic undertones, but I noted it and sat back, plotting my next move.
Before we arrived, Miss Dubois donned a glamour charm, which I had heard of but never previously witnessed. With the use of glamour, faeries could change their forms at will, and an alchemist had somehow distilled that magic into a talisman allowing Miss Dubois to make subtle changes to her appearance. She was immediately disguised as my sister, or rather as Miss Rose’s sister Delia, and after replacing her blonde locks with brunette and her blue eyes with gray she looked much more like my kin than my own sisters.
Upon our arrival I discovered that there were two types of women in attendance at the salon: young women who were not yet married, like our guide, Mrs. Clara Harding’s friend Miss Thistlegoode, and spinsters who were past their prime. Rather like I had been before miraculously finding my soul mate, so my heart went out to those women. It is a lonely place to be on the shelf, watching younger, more attractive women make happy matches, knowing that you will never experience their joy.
Miss Dubois was rather past her prime as well, being over thirty, but as magicians our lifespans were longer than those of our nonmagical cousins. She may yet have good childbearing years, and I knew nothing at all of guardian traditions. Their constitutions were far hardier than any other breed of magician. Miss Dubois might breeze through the labor difficulties that had nearly done me in.
There were a handful of young men in attendance as well, most of the foppish variety. In my humble opinion, I did not want a lover who dressed better than I did.
“Miss Rose, we were so excited when we heard about your interest in our little group,” the hostess, Mrs. Robertson, exclaimed as she greeted us.
“I am thrilled that you would allow me to do a reading. I don’t often have the chance to speak about my work,” I replied.
“Your imagery is so expressive. I’m looking forward to hearing about your inspiration.” Mrs. Robertson’s enthusiasm seemed so sincere that I was unprepared for it and merely nodded and blushed in reply. After being subjected to Sarah’s sneering criticism, compliments made me wary, for I expected them to be followed by a cutting remark.
“Ah, Miss Thistlegoode, how lovely to see you again,” Miss Dubois said. I turned and smiled at the young woman. She was a witch, like Mrs. Harding, and my fingers itched with the urge to match her. I was certain that there could be a marriage in her near future.
Miss Thistlegoode beamed at us. She touched my arm, and I felt a strong impression of her urge to help us. She very much wanted justice for her friend, and would do anything in her power to aid our investigation. Her eagerness was encouraging and boded well for the evening. I requested that she introduce us to the other guests in attendance, and we began making our way around the room.
It seemed strange that there might be a murderer amongst the magicians attending the salon. They seemed an amiable lot, and I began to despair that this avenue of investigation was not going to lead us anywhere. If we could not discover something here, we would need to wait until the killer abducted another victim, which was not an option we wanted to occur.
With no leads to speak of before my reading, I turned my attention toward doing my best. I had never read to a group before, at least not to a
Similar Books
