@page { margin-bottom: 10.000000pt; margin-top: 10.000000pt; } CHAPTER FIFTEEN Silence. They stared at each other. As she looked at Clay, right into his eyes where his pupils had darkened to leave only a rim of silver, Francie felt like the earth had just tilted on its axis. She had sat there, listening to him talk about magic, about people called practitioners, about using spells to do your job, and finally about soul mates, but not just ordinary soul mates. Oh, no, these soul mates were destined for each other, preordained by some mystical, magical “imperative” that left them no choice—no choice but what? To have sex? He actually thought she would swallow this tale—hook, line, and sinker? Magic? Practitioners? Soul mates? Some mysterious force called the “ imperative”? Did he take her for a fool? This was the biggest bunch of hooey she’d ever heard. All this buildup to what? Fantasy land? What was he trying to pull? She didn’t get angry very often, but when she did .
