“My granmamere, my granny, was a witch. Well, actually, I’m thinking of my great-great granny, but the other female descendants were witches, too.”
“You’re kidding?” Arik asked, but this time the derision was not only unreal, it was scarce on the ground.
“I am not.” Blaze tipped his beer toward Arik, drank, and smacked his lips. It was terrible beer, but strong. “And all of them saw things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“The future, the past, ghosts, demons, the devil within…” Blaze shrugged. “All sorts of things. I grew up with a huge family, most of whom could dance in fire, charm snakes, and read cards, and if I could count the number of times I’ve seen one or more of them react to some horrible shit they could see but nobody else could, it’d be an even bigger figure than the number of times you apologize when it’s not your fault. So gadjo…” Blaze nudged Arik’s beer closer to its drinker. “What did yousee?”