Jessica glanced back at me with a smile. “We wanted a lovely workplace.”
“You succeeded.” I almost laughed when I realized I was whispering. The soft gray carpeting kept our steps silent; the overall effect was like a library.
Jessica pointed to folding chairs arranged before a half-circle table with five office chairs opposite. “Have a seat. The others are on their way.”
Robin, Catherine, and I sat in the folding chairs; the cushioned seats meant they were much more comfortable than I had guessed. Jessica took a seat at one end of the other set of chairs. I had just wondered how long we’d have to wait when a door behind those chairs squeaked open. Several people filed in. As they sat, Jessica introduced them and they gave smiles or waves.
“This is Theresa,” indicating a middle-aged blond with bright purple lipstick.
“Matt,” an older bald gentleman.
“Evan,” a taller, heavyset man.
“And, last but not least, Marcie,” a young blond woman.
When all five council members were seated, Jessica faced us with a blinding smile. “Welcome to the Witches Council. Let’s get started. What can we do to help?”
Robin and Catherine looked at me. Guess I was taking point. I stood to address the council. That seemed respectful; maybe they should publish a handbook so people knew what to do. Did the royal family do that?
I focused on the council. “We understand that you watched my broadcast this morning.” The councilmembers nodded. “Let me give you the background.” I updated them on what had happened since Rowan made her appearance yesterday. Had it only been one day? “As I stated in the broadcast, I die tomorrow if Rowan is to be believed. I’d really rather not,” I added with a half-smile. Low chuckles sounded. Some of the tension in the room released.
“We are approaching you to ask if you can provide any information about the time-traveling ghost who calls herself Rowan Walsh; anything about Catherine’s role in this; and anything about concerns regarding Mayor Barbara Knollman’s plans for integrating the human and supernatural communities.” I ticked these off on my fingers.
“You don’t ask for much,” Evan responded drily.
“I’m a journalist. It’s what I do.”
“Indeed,” he conceded. He turned to Matt. “What have we learned?”
Matt cleared his throat. “After seeing your broadcast, we did some exploring.”
“Exploring?” Catherine asked.
Theresa nodded. “Matt, if you don’t mind?”
“Please.”
Theresa closed her eyes. “My abilities involve an acute sensitivity to fluctuations in the magical energy of the city.”
“You can feel changes in the Force?” I joked. She opened her eyes then frowned.
“Liz.” Catherine chastised me with the single word.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Yesterday, there was a significant fluctuation,” Theresa continued. “Unlike any I had felt before.”
A chill moved through me.
“There was a huge increase to start.”
I opened my mouth to ask a question. Robin’s hand on my arm stilled me.
Theresa shook her head. “Then the magical energy dropped back down.” She puckered her purple lips in thought. “Finally, it spiked even higher. This is where it became interesting.” Her face flushed with excitement. “I sensed two distinct energy signatures. The first was that foreign one that surged and then receded. But, the other one. I’d never felt anything like it. In my entire life,” she emphasized.
Blood drained from my face. “What do you think that means?”
Theresa exchanged a glance with Marcie, the youngest-appearing witch on the council, before answering. “Our best guess? The first magical energy surge was Rowan Walsh arriving in our time. The decrease was when she attacked the café. That final surge was her recovery before vanishing…” She stopped with a look at Jessica, who considered Catherine.
“What? What else?” Catherine asked in a whisper.
“We think the larger surge was you,” Jessica answered.
“How?” I asked before Catherine could.
Jessica shook her head. “We don’t know.”
Disappointment filled me. I wanted more.
“Catherine is definitely more than an empath. She clearly is connected to Rowan and most likely is as well to whatever Barbara has seen in her visions since last year. However, we honestly have no idea what or how.” Jessica tilted her head for a moment. “To answer your questions. We believe Rowan Walsh likely is from another dimension or timeline, and could be from the future, though we haven’t been able to confirm or exclude that conclusion. Catherine absolutely has powers that have either not fully expressed or that she is somehow repressing. And, we don’t have any idea the role of Mayor Knollman’s integration plans with any of it.”
I exchanged glances with Robin and Catherine, could see my disappointment mirrored there.
“Our magic is only so powerful,” Jessica said. “I’m sorry we weren’t more helpful.”
“This was great,” I contradicted the redheaded witch, who appeared startled by my statement. “You confirmed we’re on the right track and that Rowan isn’t just a nutjob to ignore.” I blanched. “Of course, that means her threat of my impending death must be taken seriously too. At least we have another day before… something happens.”
“What will you do next?” Jessica asked.
“Lunch. Followed by a visit to the mayor’s office.”
CHAPTER TEN
Tony’s gaze found mine the moment I entered his café. Heat suffused me and that knowing smile appeared on his face. Why was it that hot men always seemed to know the effect they had on women? Good grief. I removed my own goofy smile and pointedly turned to face my companions. If I could hear him, I imagined Tony chuckling in response to my action.
“The back booth is still unusable, but the one next to it is clean and available,” Tony called out.
Robin thanked him and led us to the booth. I settled into the vinyl seat, choosing to sit so I faced the restrooms and not the front of the café. The damage from Rowan’s last visit was still very much in evidence. Someone had cleaned, but the back booth was split in two, the table missing a jagged chunk, and black marred the walls. Smoke? I didn’t think it had been that bad.
The three of us perused the menu and ordered veggie sandwiches on ciabatta bread when the waitress came over.
“Is it too early for a cocktail?” Robin joked.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere in the world,” I responded. We laughed, Catherine a half second behind. “Catherine, you’ve been distracted all afternoon. What’s going on?”
Catherine’s wild eyes moved between us, a weird combination of excited and terrified. She opened her mouth, closed it. Flexed the fingers on both hands. Finally, took a quick breath. “Alex proposed.”
“Congratulations,” Robin enthused.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, playing the killjoy in the conversation. A sensation of being watched returned, and I peered around the edge of the booth to find Tony staring, a peculiar expression on his face.
“I don’t know,” Catherine answered me.
“Do you love him?” Robin asked.
Catherine smiled, her eyes taking on a faraway look for a moment. “Yes.”
I sighed. Could she look more like the stereotype of a woman in love?
“What’s the issue then?” Robin asked.
“It’s because he’s not human, right?” I answered instead and Catherine nodded, eyes filling with tears.
Robin placed her hand over Catherine’s on the tabletop. “All relationships have challenges. But, nobody at this table is fully human.”
“Speak for yourself,” I retorted and then flushed. “That didn’t come out quite the way I intended.”
Robin shook her head. “It’s okay, Liz. We know what you meant.”
&n
bsp; “Liz is right, though,” Catherine said. “Dating a half-incubus is one thing. Marrying a half-incubus is another. I know I’m an empath, and something more, but still…” She frowned. “He’s immortal and I’m not. It wouldn’t be right for him to give that up – if it’s even possible. Does he want to watch me grow old and die? What about me? It’s selfish, but how will I feel as I age and he doesn’t? Will I resent him his eternal good looks and immortality?” She took a deep breath, stopped the rapid-fire questions. “What should I do?”
“Catherine, you know we can’t tell you what to do,” Robin answered.
“I’ll just play devil’s advocate a bit longer,” I chimed in.
“Of course, you will,” Robin said.
“Can a human and a paranormal have a happily ever after? I think that’s the big question,” I started, but Robin interrupted.
“Can two paranormals have a happily ever after? Can two humans have a happily ever after? It’s the same no matter their persuasion,” she concluded.
“It adds an unnecessary complication,” I argued.
“Could this be because of a certain supernatural?” Robin teased.
“What? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.
“Ladies,” a deep voice addressed us and my body zinged in response. I looked up and found Tony’s warm brown eyes, smelled his earthy scent, and wanted to run my fingers through his black hair. His smiled widened. I didn’t know what supernatural being he was, but I increasingly believed it was one that could read minds.
Tony set our sandwiches on the table. A chorus of thank-yous sounded. He shifted from foot to foot. Was he nervous? I tilted my head. “Was there something else?”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
Catherine bit off a laugh, but Robin didn’t bother to hide her grin.
“No,” I responded without thought, startled by the question.
My response didn’t seem to faze him. “Because you don’t think we have a future?”
One eyebrow rose in question. “How do you know that? Is this table bugged?”
“I have excellent hearing,” he answered and wagged his ears at me.
“How did you do that?”
“I have skills.”
“I bet.” My ears burned at the double entendre. Tony smirked. An idea hit me. I mirrored his smirk, satisfied when his dropped a notch. “Yes, I’ll go out with you—”
“Wonderful,” he interrupted.
I held up a finger for him to wait. “I’ll go out with you on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Really? That could be dangerous. You don’t know how my mind works.”
“I’m getting an inkling.”
“I’ll go out with you if you tell me what you are.” I sat back, pleased with my creativity. Robin choked on her water. Catherine’s eyes widened. But Tony’s smile broadened.
“You have a deal. Meet me at Fleming’s on West Charleston for dinner at 7 and I’ll tell you. You’re not a vegetarian, right?”
“Um, no.” I vaguely remembered that Fleming’s was a steakhouse.
“See you tonight.” He sauntered back to the café’s bar, somehow no doubt aware of my appreciation of the view.
“That was different,” Robin said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, shooting a look at Catherine when she laughed.
Robin held up her hands. “Don’t get defensive. I’ve never seen him ask anyone out before. That’s all I’m saying.”
Hmm. I pushed that thought from my mind and focused. “Finish eating so we can head to Barbara Knollman’s office.”
I hoped the angel-turned-demon-turned-angel would have something useful to provide.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I wanted to drive to the mayor’s office, but since my Audi R8 didn’t have a backseat to speak of, Robin drove us in her black VW Jetta compact sedan. It rode well, I could admit, but nothing beat being behind the wheel of my vehicle.
But I digress.
Mayor Knollman’s secretary admitted us to the swanky office overlooking Main Street. Barbara stood when we entered. Her smile lit her face. Since being… elevated, I thought the word was, back to angel-status, she had regained an ethereal beauty. She no longer pulled her brunette hair back in a severe bun, her teeth no longer appeared small and sharp, and her fingernails no longer looked like talons. Plus, she looked decades younger. Turned out angels were much more attractive than demons. Who’d have thought, right?
“Welcome, ladies. Please sit.” Barbara indicated three overstuffed leather chairs opposite her imposing solid wood desk. She retook her own seat and the smile dimmed. “I believe I know why you’re here.”
“Because you had a premonition?” I quipped, and she shook her head.
“I did, but not about you visiting. Robin called me.” Barbara smiled.
This startled me for a moment. I hadn’t realized they’d mended that particular fence. It was only a month or so ago that Robin was still Barbara’s minion, and when Robin refused to kill her now-boyfriend, Jackson, Barbara tried to have Robin killed in retaliation. It was all very cloak-and-dagger, to be honest.
“You had a premonition?” Robin asked.
“Yes. Not about Catherine,” she clarified. “About integration and protection of supernatural beings.”
“What did you see?” Robin asked.
“It was typically vague, but showed the human and supernatural worlds as united. It also showed my role. I plan to introduce new legislation that will become the standard across this country for human-supernatural relations.”
“That’s fantastic,” Catherine said.
“When are you introducing it?” I asked, my mind already wondering if I could get her on my show, or maybe even the evening news, to discuss this legislation.
Barbara chuckled. “Tomorrow night, and yes, Liz, I’d like some air time. If you can squeeze me in.”
I grinned. “You know I can. I’ll have my producer contact you. We’re a little busy, as you know.”
Barbara’s smile slipped. “Yes, I’m aware of the deadline.”
Anxiety whipped through me at the direct reminder of my looming death. I smiled wider to hide the discomfort. “We’ll figure it out before that. I still have over 24 hours.”
“Good luck. Let me know if I can do anything.”
“We will—”
“Actually, Barbara,” Catherine interrupted me. She stared down at her fidgeting hands for a moment. “I don’t know how your ability works, but can you… direct… a premonition?”
Barbara’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand. Do you mean control a premonition? No, I can’t.”
“Can you think about a topic to prompt a premonition?”
Barbara placed her hands on the desk top. She nodded, her fingernails tapping out a rhythm.
We remained quiet while she considered the question.
“I haven’t directly tried before, but I’ve had times where a premonition followed thinking about a topic, so it’s possible.”
“I’d very much appreciate if you could try to find out something about me, my future.”
Barbara nodded. “Let me give it a whirl.” She closed her eyes, allowed her arms to lay loosely at her sides in the chair.
I tried to look at the others with my peripheral vision, afraid to move lest the spell be broken. Not a real spell, of course, the spell of wonderment. I felt a laugh bubble up and realized that my anxiety was increasing. What if we didn’t like what she told us about Catherine’s future? Worse, what if I ask her to do the same for me, and she sees nothing because I’m dead? My heart rate sped up at these thoughts. With supreme effort, I shut them off and focused on Barbara. I noted that her eyes moved rapidly beneath her closed lids, almost like she was dreaming. I hoped this meant that she was seeing something helpful. Barbara frowned and Catherine gasped. That couldn’t be good.
&nbs
p; Barbara’s eyes snapped open. It was interesting to watch her orient herself to her current surroundings. The awareness increased until she smiled at us.
“That was amazing,” she said.
“It worked?” Catherine asked.
“It did.” Barbara inhaled deeply, perhaps arranging her thoughts. “I saw you, Catherine, and Rowan, the time-traveling ghost. You were both frowning. Fear and anger saturated the premonition. It was definitely not a happy meeting.”
“What were they doing?” I asked.
“That’s where it becomes vague. They were in a room together. Perhaps a ballroom? Some kind of larger space, it seemed. But, dark, as if there weren’t any windows, and few lights had been turned on. They’d been arguing, I believe. Then the image became fuzzy. The best way to describe it is that mist swirled around.”
“That’s all,” Catherine said, voice tinged with disappointment.
“Not quite. I thought the vision was complete and I was seeing it fade. But I don’t think that’s correct. It appeared that Catherine and Rowan were fading in and out, of existence or of our timeline. Which makes sense for the ghost, depleting her energy and all that.” She frowned at Catherine. “It doesn’t make sense for you.”
I was already shaking my head at Barbara’s conclusion. “That’s already happened,” I explained. “That happened yesterday.”
“Not possible,” Barbara countered. “I don’t see the past, only the future.”
“It’s not possible that your powers have changed?” I challenged, and she tilted her head at me.
“It’s not.”
I suddenly felt like a tiny bug about to be squished. She’d maintained a few her demon mannerisms.
“I don’t understand,” Catherine muttered.
“It’s simple. It’s going to happen again.” Barbara shrugged at what to her was obvious.
Catherine paled. Robin patted her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Thank you for the information, Barbara,” I said. “This has been illuminating.” Barbara chuckled at my formality. I stood and faced the others in the chairs. “It’s time we revisit with Olivia and find out what else the archangel knows.”
Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6 Page 20