Blood Red Read Online Free

simply.
    â€œHi,” Heidi said cheerfully.
    The woman stared at Heidi gravely. “You seek the future?”
    â€œAbsolutely,” Heidi said, introducing herself. “I’m Heidi Weiss, and I’m about to be married. I’d love some advice.”
    The woman nodded, but her expression said that she read in Heidi’s polite words the simple fact that she didn’t really believe in what she was doing. It was all for fun.
    â€œI’m Deanna Marin,” Deanna said, stepping forward. “And this is Lauren Crow.”
    The woman arched a brow slightly, studying Lauren. “Crow?”
    â€œI’ve been told that my great-grandfather was Cherokee,” Lauren said, taking the woman’s hand. There was strength in her grip. It offered a strange assurance.
    â€œI, too, have Cherokee blood. We have the same green eyes.”
    â€œSo we do,” Lauren agreed, though she wasn’t sure green eyes came from the Cherokee part of her background.
    â€œYou’re tall…five-ten?”
    â€œAround there. Another grandfather was from the Orkney Islands. A big tall guy, so I was told. Some Norse, some Scots.”
    â€œAh, and thus you are redheaded.”
    â€œI like to think auburn.”
    The woman smiled. Lauren had to admit, she liked her, but more than ever, she didn’t want a reading, didn’t want to know what the future supposedly held. She wanted to ask the woman to have a drink with them, instead.
    â€œI like to think I am not turning gray. I’m Susan,” the woman said.
    Heidi started to giggle. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized quickly. “It’s just so…normal.”
    Susan offered a slight smile in return. “Life is normal, the cycle of life is normal, the air we breathe is normal. So many things are normal, including much that we don’t understand yet.”
    â€œYou have a beautiful face,” Lauren heard herself blurt out.
    Susan inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. When she lifted her eyes again, she smiled. “You’re artists?”
    â€œI’m a graphic designer, actually,” Deanna said. “Heidi and Lauren can draw anything in the world, though. They’re fabulous.”
    â€œAnd you’d like to sketch me?” Susan asked, looking at Lauren.
    â€œI’d love to.”
    â€œThat’s not why we’re here, though,” Heidi said.
    â€œAh, yes, the future,” Susan said. She lifted her hands. “What will it be? Would you like a reading of your palm? Or shall we see what’s in the cards? And then, of course, there is always the crystal ball.”
    â€œWe should each do something different,” Deanna suggested.
    â€œTarot cards,” Heidi said.
    â€œI’ll take a palm reading,” Deanna determined.
    Lauren shrugged. “Crystal ball.”
    Susan nodded, indicating several small fold-up chairs inside the tent. “Lauren, you are welcome to sketch. I’ll begin with the bride.”
    Lauren always carried a small sketch pad in her handbag, but she wondered how Susan knew that, and she was slightly disturbed. Or slightly more disturbed, if she were being honest Then she told herself that Susan already knew they were artists. Guessing that she carried a sketch pad was just a logical assumption. No doubt most people who did this kind of thing for a living learned how to assess people, how to read a great deal in a few words and intuit where to go from there.
    Deanna had unfolded the little wooden chairs. She sat on one side of Heidi, while Lauren backed her chair away a bit and took out her sketchbook. As she sat, watching Susan instruct Heidi on how to choose her cards, she could hear the sounds around them. Music in the distance, coming from the bars. People talking, then stopping to ooh and aah at the artwork available on the street. Across from them, near the Cathedral, a lone flutist had set down his cap, and now