Forbidden Fruit Read Online Free PDF Page B

all.”
    He follows me to the food court. During this interminable walk, I learn his name is Felix and he wants to be an optometrist but his grades weren’t good enough to get into the university of his choice, so he’s taking a year off to figure out his next step. I’m puzzled why he thinks I care enough to merit this vomitous outpouring of personal information.
    “Now you,” he prompts as we cross through the tables. “That’s how conversation works.”
    “My name’s Shannon. I was born in the Deep South in a cursed little town, one full of witches, demons, and shit. Then some horrible things happened, and I probably killed my mother, but because I have partial amnesia, I can’t be sure. Now I’m working at Pretzel Pirate, which might literally be an annex in hell. Who says there’s no such thing as karma?”
    To my surprise, he cracks up. “Okay, I get it, I’m pushy. Talk to you later, Shannon…if that is your real name.”
    Huh. Telling the truth is fun, boys and girls.
    Bemused, I head toward my penance for the bad deeds I don’t clearly remember. Opening at Pretzel Pirate has become second nature; I could do it in my sleep. I set the dough in the machines, put pretzels in the oven, and turn on various gadgets. Work passes with routine issues, like people bitching that their pretzel is too soft, not crispy enough, or I didn’t top it with enough jalapeño cheese.
    The hamburger stand closes an hour before Pretzel Pirate, so I get to chat with Felix before he gets too hungry to wait any longer. This is good because if he’s still here when I close, he’ll ask me to dinner. I can read the signs, but there’s no way in hell that would ever happen. We may be the same age, but he looks like a toddler to me. He’s barely pubescent, let alone interesting in a sexual fashion.
    As I’m locking up, I get a text from Jesse. Come out the west doors. I’m taking you home. If I didn’t have the dude from yesterday fresh in my mind, I’d bitch at him. It’s only nine fifteen, and I’ve been taking the bus for weeks. Yet tonight, the mall seems silent and faintly ominous as I pass through the food court; I don’t see any security guards and the stores have all shut down. Metal gates cover the shops, and the fountains aren’t flowing. Maybe I’ve seen too many zombie movies. Despite my best intentions, I quicken my steps.
    It’s probably my imagination, but the faster I move, the surer I feel that someone’s watching me. I mean, there’s a night watchman on the security cameras. Maybe that’s what I’m sensing. Goose bumps rise on my arms. I feel…hunted. Darkness flashes to my right, but when I turn, there’s nothing, just a residual chill.
    Bullshit to this. I take off toward the western exit, easier in my Pretzel Pirate shoes than it would be in combat boots. To my astonishment, Jesse comes tearing at me, his strides ringing on the tile floor. He stops when he sees nobody’s chasing me. That’s when I realize he’s drawn his weapon.
    “What happened?”
    “That’s what I’d like to know,” he snaps.
    “But…” I don’t even know what to ask. He was running like he thought my life was actively in danger. Now, I figure I probably overreacted. I’ve got a vivid imagination.
    “You were scared to death,” he says softly.
    My eyes widen. “You could tell?”
    He ignores the implicit question. “Did you see the guy again?”
    “No, I just…” It sounds dumb. “I felt like I wasn’t alone, as if somebody was watching me.”
    “It’s possible. Show me where.”
    “Why?”
    “Humor me.”
    So I lead him back to the spot where the impression was strongest, just past the dark water in the silent fountain. Jesse pulls a pewter keychain out of his pocket, but there are no keys attached. He cradles it between his palms and walks a slow circuit around the area. Finally he stops, his gaze level and somber.
    “You didn’t imagine it. Scrying magick’s been used here recently. The water