Elixir Views mistakes Lance Minchner for a soothsaying customer when she takes his hand and reads a message of death for that very evening. Unfortunately, she must operate within a code of conduct she's helped to create to avoid destroying all her paranormal family has built, so she can not tell him the truth.
Cleverly she alters the man's plans, but a nightmare suggests the perilous blight merely postponed, not banished. New York City in 1835 proves a dangerous place as she discovers family deceit, gambling weaknesses, substantial wealth, and unhappy creditors threaten those for whom she cares. Even the assistance from a detective is helpful but she discovers that at the end of the day, vengeance still has a way of finding you.
Abruptly, a look of agonizing pain filled her dancing partner’s face. He crumpled toward the floor. She tried to stop him, struggling to hold him upright, and then she saw it. In his back was a knife, planted firmly, deeply, and blood oozed from the wound. She eased slowly to the floor, kneeling down with Lance. She cradled the man in her arms. Tears streamed down her face.
“I am sorry to go,” he murmured. “Just when I’d found you.”
Then his eyes closed, and she knew he was gone forever. He was dead.
The nightmare continued, as she scanned the faces in the room. Most were aghast in horror. But two faces had odd expressions. One of those faces was that of a young man’s. The other was an older gentleman with coal-black eyes and an odious gaze. Elixir followed his stare and noticed a waiter walking through a portal, with a white glove at his side—a glove with red blood on the fingers. The disturbing sight awakened Elixir. She sat up in bed, shaking with terror at what she had just dreamt.
Was this a form of transmission about the man she had grown fond of in less than a single day? She had never dreamed such vivid details. In the past, premonitions were always in the light of day, in full consciousness. Could the earlier signals she had received while at the symphony, blurry in the presence of her beau, have taken shape in her subconscious, revealing the details in sleep? She hoped that might be the case. Because, if it were, she realized what she must do. She must learn who the faces were in the ballroom, and unravel why the older man with coals for eyes had seemed undisturbed by Lance’s death. The lack of utter surprise in the face of the younger man was likewise troubling. She stayed awake, committing both faces to memory. She did not want the details of the nightmare to slip away. Unfortunately, she had not seen the face of the waiter. But the killer was likely hired. If she could figure out by whom and for what reason, she might be able to remove the motive for contracting with such a murderer.
Elixir sat trembling. She had never been scared of anything. But she was unnerved by the vision of her nightmare. Forcefully, she calmed herself. She had some time. Staunch had proffered a plan that would buy her time. She was grateful he had a strategy permitting her to remove what now seemed a dire obstacle to her future happiness. Presently, she dropped back into slumber untroubled by further nightmares. Though restless in sleep, she awakened refreshed and resolved to right whatever wrongs might be planned involving Lance Minchner. Suspecting the ball would have to involve his wealthy family, she knew her first tactic—to see his home and meet his relatives.
