This excerpt of Jack of Diamonds is copyrighted 2006 Leigh Ellwood.
* * *
Argent gathered as much, watching her.
The thin seconds hand of the large, sunburst clock situated over the parlor's mantel ticked blandly past the hour. Seven o'clock, closing time, and she hadn't moved an inch to begin her closing ritual. From his point of vigil, Argent saw the gypsy still sitting in her plush, wingback chair, legs crossed and back straight, idly shuffling her tarot cards. Her vacant stare was cast downward, as if disappointed not to find an escape hatch etched somewhere in the floorboards.
He watched the lovely black woman with the tightly coiled hair and long, red fingernails, impressed with her intuition. He had misjudged her after all this time, thinking her a charlatan, no better than any of her televised, toll-free counterparts.
This woman was not a fraud. This woman knew she was going to die tonight.
That established, Argent felt a bit disappointed himself with the woman's complacency. He had hoped for more emotion—fear, anger, a mad rush for the door and an attempted escape into the night. She would be caught, of course; wily as she seemed, she was no match for his power. Nothing like wrangling with a fiesty victim to stir the beast within, he mused with a smile that exposed his elongated fangs. The mere thought of her writhing in his grip, those lovely breasts shifting underneath her low-necked blouse, caused his cock to twitch.
In the time he'd been casing her home, from where she dispensed her predictions, Argent noticed she took no lovers. How exciting it would be not only to end her life, but to be her last fuck.
* * *
Will Argent be just that, though? You'll have to find out for yourself. :-)