Forbidden Love

4

Boomer•

The breeze blows gently on my back, swishing my long cloak around my feet. The hood is high over my head, hiding myself from passing eyes. The streets are crowded, and I'm tossed side to side, but rather then trying to fight against it, I allow the crowd to carry me towards a small shop. From the outside the windows look dark and empty, but as I push open the door, the strong smell of burning candles fills my senses.

The room is dark, the only light provided by the numerous flickering lights that surround a long wooden table in the center of the room. A cloaked woman sits behind it, her head bowed and her fingers shuffling a deck of cards. She stirs as the door closes softly behind me, lifting her head high enough so that I can make out the curve of her lips, smiling.

"Are you Mystique?" I clarify, gently fingering the strap that holds the heavy bag of gold coins to my waist. She takes in a deep breath and places an inviting hand atop the table, palm up. I hesitate and before I know it she lets out a soft laugh, much too young sounding for her to be the Mystique I've heard about.

"I am her faithful assistant, standing in while she is out at the market," her barely visible lips curl up in a small smile, one that makes me almost take her still open hand. But I force myself to resist.

"Do you know when she will return?" I question, hiding the bag of money under my cloak. Her smile widens, now almost mockingly, and she laughs.

"If I wanted that bag of money you carry, boy, I'd have already taken it and ran," she says, as if it's supposed to reassure me.

"Then I'd have chased you down and killed you," I reply, surprised by the harshness of the truth in my words, but she just smiles her kind smile.

"A man of promise, I see. Come here boy, I won't bite you," she says, tapping her knuckles lightly against the wood. I hesitantly step up to her and hold out my hand the way she has hers. Her hand gently moves up, cupping mine from beneath. Her skin is smooth and soft, and as her thumb traces the lines of my hand, I can't help but shiver.

"You seem nervous. Try to let that energy go, it will only tamper with the results," She suggests as my hand shakes slightly.

"What is this? A science experiment?" I question with a light laugh. She pauses her movement, glancing up at me. The light reflects off her face, revealing a pair of delicate, but intrigued blue eyes. However, just as quickly as they are revealed, the eyes disappear behind the shadow of the hood as she returns her attention to my palm.

"What you call science, I call magic," she says simply, applying a small amount of pressure to the center of my palm.

"There's no such thing as magic," I return gruffly, eyeing the fancy red satin of her cloak and feeling the need to pull it down.

"Does the sun not shine every morning? Do you not see the fresh new life of a baby or young child? Can't you see the rising of spring flowers?" She marvels, nicking my thumb so that a small droplet of blood appears. I cringe but, for some reason, I don't seem to want to pull away. I gaze down at the little red dot on my finger in amazement, dimly aware of her eyes on me.

"That's the beauty of science," I say with a shake of my head, pulling my hand away. She doesn't try to pull me back, just continues to stare at me with intense blue eyes.

"That is the beauty of magic, boy. The sooner you understand and accept that, the better your life shall become," she says dazedly. Suddenly she jumps up out of her seat, knocking the chair back with a squeak of wood on wood. I cringe and take a quick step back, but she just lowers her head in a sort of bow.

"Madam Mystique is now here," she says quickly, turning her back to me and heading towards the back of the shop.

"Wait! What is your name?" I say hurriedly, although I don't know why. She pauses briefly, her back stiffening.