Blarbs

10: Regrets and Lost Love

"Do you trust me?"

"I love you."

"But do you trust me?"

"... No, I don't."

"That's why we can't be together."

-givethispromptatry

She was advertised as a fortune-teller, sometimes a prophet, but Damian pegged her as neither. Carmen Salvador had the luck of manifesting three powers: empathy, mind-reading, and the ability to make others tell the truth. She was notorious in certain circles, both hero and villain, for not caring who she sells information to, so long as they pay the price.

Damian was a little uncomfortable with this. He wasn't like Andrew; informants didn't need to have a spotless record, so long as you know when they're lying. No, it was the fact that Carmen didn't ask for money, or favors, or help. From what a certain jail-bound criminal told them, Carmen dealt with secrets. She gives you one, you give her one. An equal exchange.

That was what they tried to do on an early Friday morning. Andrew waited outside, insisting that he wanted to keep watch just in case anything suspicious happened, but Damian and Sammy shared a look that said they didn't believe him. If he were a betting guy (which he was) he'd say the dried frog skins hanging inside freaked "Garriston City's Shining Hero" in ways that doomsday plots never did.

They were ready for any question she asked when they came in, but the dark-haired woman took one look at them, and smiled in a way that promised disappointment.

"Hi," Sammy said, sticking out a hand to shake, which was left hanging. She quickly drew it back. "I'm-"

"Samantha Sloane, daughter to Richard Sloane and Abigail Stein, sister to Natalia Sloane, best friend and sidekick to Andrew Locke. Yes, I know who you are."

"Ah," Sammy said. "Should-"

"'-Have known. The mind-reader thing, right?'" Carmen looked down at the ball of yarn on her lap, and proceeded to finish the- it was a scarf, right? Or maybe a blanket. "Such a straightforward mind. And yes, Damian, I am making a scarf. My first attempt, actually. It's not as good as I hoped, but sadly I can't absorb skills as easily as interpreting people."

Damian fought hard not to flush.

"And before you ask Samantha, no, I can't control it and no, I do not want to answer your questions."

"But-"

"Oh please my dear, I enjoy my payments because I like secrets, the more emotions tied to them the better. While I'm sure you have enough emotions inside you, they're not exactly," Carmen pursed her lips, "painful enough for me to enjoy."

Sammy's mouth popped open. Then she gave her a look that anybody could interpret.

But Carmen laughed, "Oh my dear, I know. Now as for you," she turned to Damian, "yes, I think you will do nicely. But not with her. Hm... I'm getting an... image..." she narrowed her eyes at him, and suddenly Damian wanted nothing more than to run out of that room, far enough to get her out of his thought because this is my head -------- -

"Oh stop that," Carmen said, eyes focusing on him, "does it really matter if I know? I barely know you, and it's not as if anyone will care enough about your memories to want them, and I will forget about them soon enough. So in a few days they will still be yours."

"That's not the point," he said.

"You'll find that I don't really pay attention to what the point is," she said. "Now come back with her. The skinny girl, big brown 'doe eyes', I think that's what you thought?"