In the dawn of another god-awful, rainy day, Little Moon's shop blinked into view. It was a bright flare among a row of bland buildings. It was a slither of colour against a grey-washed collection of architecture

This was a bad idea. I didn't need a fortune teller to know that much— Ironically enough, the decal sticker in the wide, cluttered window was the silhouette of hands scrying over a crystal ball.

Yup. Life was toying with me. Hardy-fucking-har.

"This better be fucking worth it," I grumbled, glaring across the street. Hot air pillowed through the Audi's air vents, a blanket of warmth that emphasised just how unappealing the downpour...