by Pandora Pine
“If it’s going to add another layer of protection to Copeland, do it.” Jude moved back to the couch. He sat where he’d been sitting before and set a hand on Copeland’s elbow. It almost seemed instinctual.
“Now that we’ve gotten the touchy subject of protection out of the way,” Ronan shot Jude a dirty look, “Copeland, why don’t you tell us how you ended up here.”
Copeland took a deep breath. “I’ve had my own psychic shop on Rue Decatur in New Orleans since 2006. I was one of the first new shops in the area to open up after Katrina. I’m a medium, like Tennyson, but my specialty was tarot readings. Like Dempsey said, I also taught classes in spell casting.”
Jude straightened his spine. “Spell casting? So that means you’re a…” He paused as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the word.
Copeland could feel his strength ebbing, otherwise he would have enjoyed teasing the man. “I’m a witch, Jude. If that bothers you, well, then you can go pound sand.” He shrugged a shoulder. It very much mattered to Cope if his being a witch bothered the man, but he wasn’t going to say a word now in front of everyone.
“Uh, Jude?” Dempsey asked. “The wards are in place. On the house and on both of you.”
“Thanks, Dempsey.” Jude relaxed visibly. “Finish your story.”
“I had a little incident with a student in one of my classes. He was stalking me and I decided that I needed to get away from NOLA for a while.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was as much as Cope was going to tell tonight. “I’ve been in Galveston for the last few years. I haven’t practiced magick at all. Then all of a sudden, I started getting sick. Headaches, body aches, and fatigue like I’ve never felt in my life. I snuck back to New Orleans to see my doctor and he couldn’t find anything wrong with me physically, but suggested I might be under a psychic attack.”
“A psychic attack? What the hell is that?” Ronan looked back and forth between Copeland and Tennyson.
“It’s when someone uses negative thoughts or energy to hurt another person,” Tennyson began. “It could be something simple like being jealous because someone got a promotion or is going on a vacation, but what Copeland is talking about goes way beyond simple bad thoughts. Someone is actually using these thoughts or maybe even a spell of some kind to hurt Copeland from a distance.”
“You’re saying that these headaches he’s getting are because someone is causing them? What, like with a voodoo doll or something?” Ronan looked dubious at best.
“That’s a possibility, but the magick I’m feeling is stronger than that. Much stronger.” Tennyson rubbed his hands against his arms.
Dempsey nodded. “That would explain all of his symptoms. The migraines and body aches are your body’s way of coping with the attacks. The fatigue is the attacker winning.”
“The attacker winning?” Jude asked. “Can this kill him?”
“Copeland, do you notice an ebb and flow to your symptoms? Do you feel at your worst and then start to feel better only to feel worse again?” Dempsey asked.
“Yes, that’s it exactly. It’s why I was hesitant to go to the doctor at first, since I would always feel better in a few days.” Cope could tell from the look in the wizard’s icy eyes that he was on to something.
“It sounds like whoever is behind this is playing cat and mouse with you. They want you to know that what’s going on isn’t curable by modern medicine. I assume you’ve tried to use your own gifts and spells to cure yourself?” Dempsey seemed the most curious about the latter half of his question.
Cope nodded. He’d tried every spell he knew to relieve the pain and give him clarity to help reason this thing out. The only message he’d gotten clearly was to come to Tennyson in Salem and find Jude Byrne. “The last weapon in my arsenal was to come here.”
“How did that come about?” Jude asked.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure. I kept hearing your name echoing in my head.” Cope looked up at Jude, who was wearing an unreadable expression on his face. “Several months ago, I was visited by a spirit who told me that if I was ever in serious trouble that I needed to come to Salem and find Tennyson Grimm. I woke up this morning in my hotel room in New Orleans in the worst pain of my life. I thought it was going to kill me. I booked a flight to Boston and hoped I could get here before that happened.”
“Bertha,” Ronan whispered.
Cope nodded. That was the name of the woman who’d been trying to help him.
“When I opened the front door you asked for Jude,” Tennyson said gently. “You said he was the only one who could save you. What did you mean?”
“You said that?” Jude sounded stunned. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that?” His amber eyes blazed with anger as they moved back and forth between Ten and Ronan.
“He was delirious. Soaked to the skin and rambling.” Tennyson shrugged. “You’re a private investigator, Jude. What could you have possibly done to save him?”
Jude’s hands balled into fists. “I’m a Navajo Medicine Man. I could have healed him.”
Now that was a sentence you didn’t hear every day. At least now Cope understood why it was so important that he find Jude Byrne.
4
Jude
To be honest, Jude had been expecting a little bit more from his dramatic revelation than dead silence. He thought maybe Tennyson might gasp or flutter a hand to his mouth. He figured Ronan was good for at least one outraged, “Bullshit!” Jude didn’t know Dempsey well enough yet to gauge his response, but crickets from them all hadn’t been on his radar.
“That explains the energy I felt when I woke up to feel your hands on me.” Copeland sounded in awe.
Jude turned away from his still silent friends to look at Copeland. “Energy?” He’d never heard that from anyone before.
“It was low level, but it was there all the same. I could feel heat on my skin where your hands were, but your skin wasn’t hot.”
Jude nodded. That was how his grandfather had explained it to him as well. No one had ever mentioned being able to feel energy coming from him. Maybe Copeland’s gifts gave him the ability to pick up on what he was doing.
“This is what you were about to tell me in the kitchen before the doorbell rang.” Tennyson’s tone was serious.
“I hadn’t planned on telling you the genesis of my abilities, just the bare bones version of the story.” Jude was a bare bones kind of a guy. He’d known Tennyson and Ronan for nearly a year now. He trusted them more than anyone, except his grandfather, but he still wasn’t at a point where he’d been ready to reveal himself or his origins to them. He’d just been so pissed off at Tennyson’s dismissive attitude that he’d lashed out. Not everyone capable of helping others had psychic powers or carried a gun and badge for a living.
“I’m really interested in hearing this story.” Ronan took a seat in the armchair closest to Jude.
That was the last thing Jude expected to hear from Ronan. Hell, he’d been expecting Ronan to ask some kind of dickish question like if his Navajo name was Sleeps with Everyone. It wasn’t a far-off characterization, but now wasn’t the time or place to think about that.
Actually, that was typical Jude Byrne, deflect, deflect, deflect. He would much rather have bantered with Ronan about something stupid like that than to tell this story, but he said he would do it. He just needed a minute.
As he was screwing up his courage, Copeland took his hand. That was unexpected. Jude hardly knew where to begin. At the beginning, he supposed. “My father was born into Navajo Nation, in Window Rock, Arizona. He left when he was eighteen to go to college in Albuquerque. That’s where he met my mother. She was white.” Jude cringed. He hated saying it like that, but it was far kinder than the way people referred to her back home. “They had me a few years later. My mother suffered a complication and died shortly after I was born. The way my grandfather told the story was that after the nurses told her she wasn’t going to make it, she said, ‘My own son is a fucking Judas.’ That’s how I g
ot my name.”
Fuck, he hated doing this. Hated laying himself out like this for everyone to see and possibly take a swing at. He could feel his emotions swirling inside him and fought to keep them at bay. He felt Copeland squeeze his hand and suddenly felt calmer. “I lived with my father in Albuquerque until he was murdered when I was thirteen. After that, my grandfather took custody of me and I lived with him on the reservation.”
Ronan was nodding along with the story. “And these healing powers, are they something innate, like Ten’s psychic gifts or did you learn how to do this?”
Jude’s mind was really blown here. He’d thought Tennyson would be the one to lead the questioning, with Ronan dropping little bits of snark here and there. He wasn’t expecting Ronan to be the one on board and believing him. “It’s a little bit of both. My grandfather saw something in me once I was back home with him and settled in. There were some people who didn’t like me because I was mixed. That just made me want to show them all how worthy I was to attain the title of Hatalii. Medicine Man,” Jude added.
“There’s something more to this, aside from the Navajo tradition and skill you learned. A power inside you that goes beyond, right?” Copeland asked quietly.
“Yeah, there’s something.” Jude didn’t like all this sharing. The one thing he was glad for was the protection spell his grandfather had put upon him by the tribal elders. So far nothing and no one had been able to break through it. Tennyson Grimm and the other psychics at West Side Magick were unable to read him and he wasn’t vulnerable to psychic attacks like the ones Copeland was suffering now.
“It’s all about your casual touches,” Tennyson began. “Like I was saying before Copeland got here, you touch people and they’re better. Like when you touch Laurel’s shoulder when she’s crying or when Callum Churchill burned his hand on Hunter’s gargoyle, you set a hand on his knee and he wasn’t in as much pain. Carson’s babies run to you when they hurt themselves, instead of their parents, as if they know you can help more than a kiss to make it better from Daddy. My panic attack went away when you grabbed my hands in the kitchen earlier. That’s this gift, right?”
Jude nodded. “Yeah, that’s all part of what I can do. I can also heal myself, to some degree.”
“Jesus Christ, that explains how you got over being shot so quickly.” Ronan’s mouth hung open. “All you did was make jokes about Deadpool and how you got a dose of his healing factor. You said you were a freak of nature, Jude.” Ronan frowned at him.
He knew Ronan was going to seize on that example. “We’d only known each other for a few weeks, Ronan. Shit, it’s hard as fuck telling you stuff about me a year into our friendship. There was no way I could have told you any of this two weeks after meeting you.”
“You lived with us.” Ronan didn’t seem to know what else to say.
“I know. You and Ten weren’t in any danger. I just…” Jude sighed. He didn’t do well trusting people. Those were the last words he wanted to say out loud at the moment. He looked to Copeland who was looking as exhausted as Jude felt.
“I’m starving.” Cope offered Ronan a smile. “Any chance I can get an oyster po’boy and some fresh beignets?”
Jude burst out laughing. “You’re a little far north for those things. How about the most kick ass lobster roll you’ve ever eaten in your entire life?”
Copeland sighed dramatically. “I suppose. When in Rome, right?”
“I’ll get you two. You need to put a little meat on your bones.” That was the understatement of the century. When Jude had helped drag Copeland into the house, he could tell the man was underweight for his height. “Does anyone else want something from Lobster Charlie’s?”
“If you’re buying, I’ll take two.” Ronan laughed.
“We’ve got meatloaf in the oven,” Tennyson reminded him.
Ronan’s left eyebrow rose to his hairline. “I’m going to enjoy meatloaf sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. I’m sure Copeland will too.”
“Fine,” Ten sighed, as if free lobster was some kind of a hardship. “I’ll take a lobster roll too.”
Dempsey raised his hand. “Me three.”
Jude stood up from the couch. “Good, you’re driving.” He needed to get out of the house and away from the curious stares coming at him from all quarters. He knew Dempsey would keep his mouth shut. That boy was just as mum about himself as Jude was, well as least as much as Jude had been.
Shit, it was all out in the open now. Well most of it. Okay, fine, some of it…
5
Copeland
After the lobster rolls, which had been even better than Jude had promised, he’d been escorted upstairs, by Jude and his new guard dog, the sweet as pie Papillon, Dixie, to the spare bedroom. Ronan had already brought his suitcases up for him.
Jude and Dixie had stood guard outside the guest bathroom door while Cope took care of business. He’d been shocked to see Jude sitting on the carpeted floor just outside the door with Dixie, waiting for him. The man had nodded as he’d walked past and into his room.
It had been a long, restless night for Copeland. His sleep had been broken several times by nightmares, but when he woke, the dreams were gone. He had no recall of what happened. During those times when he’d been awake, he sensed Jude Byrne.
There was a second empty bedroom on the second floor, but Cope knew Jude was still sitting in the hallway outside his door. After his shower, when he’d felt a bit more refreshed, he’d tested out the wards Dempsey had put on the house. They were top quality. Jude should have known that as well. He was the one who requested the wizard, he must have known the caliber of his work.
Cope couldn’t help feeling there was something more to this. Jude felt personally responsible for his safety. The question was why?
After everything the man spilled about himself yesterday, Cope couldn’t imagine he’d be much in the mood for a repeat of that today. Not that it wouldn’t be fun to poke at him a bit and see how he responded, especially if they were alone. He had a feeling he’d get more out of the reluctant man if they were by themselves.
The other interesting thing he’d learned about Jude Byrne was that Cope couldn’t read him. He’d tried all sorts of ways to dip into his brain, but none of them worked. He was blank space. An FM frequency with no radio station broadcasting. He’d be curious to ask Tennyson Grimm what the situation was with Jude, but had a feeling the man wasn’t going to let him out of his sight long enough to have a private word with anyone.
Sitting up in bed, Cope realized that his headache was gone. It was the first morning in weeks that he’d woken up feeling a bit like his old self. The one overriding feeling he had at the moment was that he was safe. Nothing else mattered. He was safe and whoever was trying to hurt him couldn’t get to him now.
Jude and the others had all been willing to help him last night when he’d shown up half dead, in the pouring rain, but would that willingness continue in the light of day? There was so much riding on the outcome of this investigation.
He’d put his life on hold for the past two years and had voluntarily given up all the things that made him Copeland Forbes, psychic, tarot reader, witch. Cope couldn’t help feeling like this day was a crossroads for him.
Pushing back the covers he got out of bed and went to the door. He’d bet the house that Jude was still outside the door. Opening it a crack, he saw that he was right. Jude was asleep with a blue blanket draped around him. Dixie was curled into a ball on his lap. She was grinning up at him.
Cope had always been a dog person, but never had the time for one with his busy schedule. Bending down he rubbed her silky ears. Wishing he could do the same to Jude, he stood back up and headed for the bathroom.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he still looked tired, but he had some of his color back and he didn’t look like an extra from the set of The Walking Dead. He’d take it. He quickly brushed his teeth and took care of his more personal needs. When he opened the door to the bathroom, Jude wa
s gone. Dixie was waiting for him.
“Good morning, little girl.” Cope bent down to scoop her up. She started licking his face. Cope could get used to this. The question was, did he want to? Would Tennyson and Ronan even want him to stay. He knew the bedroom next to his own was reserved for a very special arrival. Peeking into the room, he could see it was painted petal pink. An unboxed crib was lying in pieces on the floor as if someone were about to put it together. Cope saw hearts and Cupid in his mind and knew the baby girl would be arriving on Valentine’s Day.
On his way down the stairs he could hear spirited conversation going on in the kitchen.
“Are you sure you’re not getting anything on this at all, Tennyson?” Jude sounded on edge.
Cope paused in the living room to listen to the psychic’s answer. He had no doubt Jude was asking about his own situation.
“No, Jude. I have no idea who’s trying to hurt Copeland or why. I’ve been reaching out with my gift and have been asking my spirit guides to look into it and so far, nothing,”
“Well, that makes two of us,” Cope announced walking into the kitchen still carrying Dixie, who was doing her best to lick his face off.
“Traitor dog,” Ronan mumbled. “You love everyone but the man who gets his ass shot just to put kibble in your bowl.”
“Four bullets, Ronan? I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared.” Cope gave Jude a questioning glance. Ronan O’Mara was one of the easiest men to read. He was a literal open book. Cope liked that in a man. He was transparent with a heart of gold. Tennyson had married well, that was for sure.
“Then there were the two I took for you.” Jude’s face lit up. “Face it, pal, you’re a lead magnet.” Jude grinned.
Jude, on the other hand, was a closed book with a blank cover. All Copeland was getting from him was what Jude wanted him to see. He had a feeling it was all very carefully orchestrated on Jude’s part. If he had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was exhausting.
“You look much better this morning,” Tennyson said. His eyes were moving down Copeland’s body.