Blood Diamonds

Epilogue

Jasmine Price sat alone in the stuffy parlour of Price Mansions, staring concernedly at the spread of tarot cards, which lay before her on the little, antique table. The night was frosty, not merely chilly like the winters she usually experienced in that empty house. This cold seeped to her bones and chilled the blood within her veins no matter how high the fire raged within the large fireplace right beside her—she just couldn't heat her body. There was a reason for this uncanny frost; this reason was called fear; unwavering danger ahead; and the cards enforced this chilling warning.

She soon heard her husband's approaching footsteps that thudded on the marble tiles in a brisk, business-like manner. As expected, he joined her, taking the opposite seat on a chemise, high-backed chair in front of the table occupied by the tarot spread. "And?" he asked, or more like he demanded with impatience and concerned authority. "What is the outcome? What can you tell me?"

She looked up at him, her green eyes full of unknown knowledge, sparkling like a million ancient and precious stones. "The legacy of the marsh witches' blood pact has fallen," she told him frankly, "but there is still danger ahead."

"How is this possible?" he burst out, furious and a lot more confused. "Was Diana Smith destroyed?" he asked coldly.

"Yes," she answered, while despondently laying down another spread.

"Then I don't understand."

"We've cut off the head of the snake, but another grows in its place. The war for this city's soul is far from over."

The pair shuddered internally from this prophecy of doom. They looked at each other with worry. They had both barely escaped the last battle with their lives and were uncertain as to how they were going to tackle the next wicked task which lay before them. It was going to be a long and difficult journey, testing their will, strength, and (most of all) their sanity.