Vincent Spinilli had worked VIP Parking at Belmont track’s Empire club 15 years and seen it all that was till today. She drove up in a 59 Edsel Corsair white with blue trim and wheels in perfect condition, a car she won off Jay Leno in Las Vegas. 

She was more noticeable than the car as she stepped out, tall with pale skin, green eyes and hair shimmering platinum silk that caught and trapped nearby colors as highlights. She was an easy 6 foot tall and slender without being skinny and when she smiled he was a deer in the headlights then she flashed her club card and he felt his blood race. It was Miss Omen and the smart guys would follow her around matching her, she was after only a year a legend in the racing world with an eye for winners hitting the triple crown stakes last year while turning at least a trifecta in each race. He rushed to park her car and as he did he called his boss telling him Omen was here today and soon the buzz was everywhere.

Felicity couldn’t help but smile as she enter her temple as she liked to think of several tracks having no recognized religion except gambling.

On her body she was adorned with charms of luck that she believed completely and strangely for some reason did bring her good fortune. Besides they were beautiful to her, some even making her strangely sentimental her eyes moist and a breath away from tears.

She was greeted like a queen by those members of the Track club many she’d never met because of her being here when she took the triple crown.

“So lovely to finally meet you Miss Omen, Rutherford Mills at your service” said a friendly and wealthy man about 60 with a bow to her making her feel gloriously worshiped.

Ford as his friends called him was stunned to find the stories about her were true, she was tall and ghostly with a childlike face and eyes that were older than time. There was something about her that told him to seek only her favor.

Marcus Cook watched as Ford got to her first and hoped he’d not be stingy with her then laughed into his sleeve when the Track officials dropped by and asked her if she’d allow them to offer her a private booth compt. Bastards wanted her to bet for herself and not see the crowd sway to her bets so he went over to console Ford and see if she gave a little hint.

Once in a private booth complete with service from drinks to taking bets the later she did none of just enjoying free snacks and drinks. She didn’t bet because she knew some would ride her choices and if too many did swing her odds so her payout was smaller later down the line. Felicity didn’t need to bet because she already had staking 6 intelligent yet homeless people she’d picked who'd get 20% for acting as proxy.

Something in the shadows was stalking Felicity and it was mad with frustration because of how she’d dodged every attack all the while acting as if she were oblivious