Read Online The Seer's Choice: A Novella of the Golden City by J. Kathleen Cheney - Free Book Online Page A

man would have. Instead he’d remained silent, skeptical of his gift and secretly fuming when other men came near her. That, in retrospect, had been childish. Marriage with Genoveva Jardim seemed like a very promising idea now. The Church advised long engagements, but he couldn’t imagine waiting half a year to marry her. Not now that he’d revealed his intentions. He hoped she felt the same way.
    So he sat on the church steps where he could keep an eye on the door of her boarding house. If the threat to their eventual marriage was her unknown attacker, Rafael wasn’t going to let the man anywhere near her.
    

    Genoveva woke when she heard whistling in the street below. She pushed away her blankets and dashed to her window to peer down. A streetlamp lit the area around the door of the boarding house, and in its light she could see a white-haired man.
    She couldn’t see his face, but she was certain it was him, the man who’d come after her the previous week. His arms flailed, agitated, and the young policeman she’d seen earlier blocked his path to the boarding house’s door. A third man came running out of the darkness—Captain Pinheiro. He caught the white-haired man by the arm and paused, gazing into the man’s face. The white-haired man swung his free arm, and a glint in the light told Genoveva he held a knife. She gasped.
    The captain swayed back out of the reach of the white-haired man’s knife, as the other police officer drew his gun. Seeing that, the white-haired man paused . . . and disappeared.
    Genoveva pressed her forehead against the glass, surveying the scene below. She couldn’t see the man anywhere. The captain was gazing down at his open hand as if it hurt.
    Genoveva grabbed her dressing gown, threw open her door, and ran down the stairs. She’d nearly reached the dim foyer by the time she’d donned the robe. Mrs. Ventura huddled by the door to her apartment, blinking her eyes as if she’d just awoken. “Where are you going, girl?”
    “I think the captain’s hurt,” Genoveva said as she fumbled with the lock on the front door. Then she threw the door open and stepped out into the street.
    The captain spun about, still holding out his hand. “What are you doing outside?”
    Genoveva ran to his side. “What’s wrong with your hand?”
    His eyes flicked down toward his open palm. “It stings. That’s all.”
    She took his hand loosely in her own, reading his health. “Where did he go?”
    “I don’t know,” the captain said. “He just . . . disappeared.”
    Genoveva felt her brows draw together. The stinging in his hand came from the bizarre fact that he’d lost the top layer of skin, almost like a scrape. “How?”
    “I don’t know,” the captain said, worry creeping into his tone. “Go upstairs and pack a bag. For two days, at least.”
    “What?”
    “I’ll take you to my aunt’s house,” he said. “I won’t worry about your safety if you’re there.”
    Genoveva swallowed. No, she wasn’t going to argue. If that man had a knife, then her presence here was a danger to everyone who lived in this house. “Just a moment.”
    She closed her eyes and gathered her power, easing the sting away and encouraging the skin to heal itself. Then she let go of his hand and stepped back. Her eyes met his. She had a strong desire to put her arms around him, just to reassure herself that he was fine. But not under the eyes of the young policeman. She recalled that she wore only her nightclothes, and flushed. “I’ll go upstairs and pack.”
    She went back inside and climbed the stairs to her room, a bit more slowly than normal since the healing had stolen some of her energy away. She dressed hurriedly, drew her portmanteau out of the bottom of the armoire, and began picking clothing to wear on a Friday and Saturday. After only a few minutes, she closed the bag and headed back down the stairs.
    Captain Pinheiro waited at the bottom landing for her by the sign that forbade men to