Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6

by Heather Silvio

  Nodding his head like he had a broken neck, the man retreated into the restaurant. “Good luck,” floated past me as the door closed. The lock turned.

  I pulled my cellphone from my purse and autodialed Catherine.

  “Hey Liz, I’m surprised to hear from you,” her voice answered. “Figured you’d get a ride here from Tony.” I heard Robin’s laughter in the background.

  I couldn’t find my voice.

  “Liz?” Catherine’s tone sharpened. “Are you there? Is everything okay?”

  I shook my head before remembering she couldn’t see me. “No,” I whispered. “Tony’s gone. Rowan took him.”

  “What? Did you just say Rowan has Tony?”

  “She showed up at the end of dinner. Yelled at me for continuing the investigation. And took Tony because she knows I like him.” I explained how Rowan materialized and dematerialized.

  Catherine and Robin held a mumbled conversation. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  The call ended, leaving me alone with my thoughts. If I hadn’t accepted the date with Tony, he wouldn’t have been kidnapped. I was cool with risking my own life, not someone else’s. Although Rowan had pointed out that I ignored her plea to save her family. My heartbeat thundered through my body. Was she right? Did I only care now that someone I had feelings for had been taken?

  No, that wasn’t accurate. Rowan’s tale of the future may or may not be accurate. And, Olivia insisted that I stay on this path. I was right to keep investigating Catherine. I had to be. But if Tony was hurt because of it—

  Stop! This wasn’t helping me or Tony. I needed to think. Where could Rowan have taken him? Barbara’s premonition showed Catherine and Rowan in a cavernous, windowless room. Could that be where Tony was? Or was that a separate future incident?

  Frustration thrummed through me. I tapped my foot on the concrete. The cool wind blew across my skin, lifting my short curls away from my face. My eyes closed. I heard tires on pavement and then a horn. I opened my eyes to see Robin’s Jetta.

  “Do you think she took Tony to where Barbara saw Catherine and Rowan’s showdown?” I greeted the women upon entering the backseat of the car.

  Robin pulled away from the restaurant. “I don’t know. That’s a good question. Could give us a place to start investigating.”

  “Can you guys think of a large space without windows, though?” Catherine asked, the tip of her right index finger tapping her chin while she thought.

  “Most theaters would fit the bill,” I said. “Or maybe larger business meeting rooms at some of the casinos. Or even rooms at the convention center.” My voice had taken on a gloomy tone with so many options.

  “Oof, yeah, there are lots of possibilities,” Robin responded. “How would we even go about investigating them?”

  “And do we have the time for that?” Catherine asked.

  “We have no idea. Bottom line is we don’t know Rowan’s timeline,” I said, sharper than I intended. “Sorry. Frustrated. It would have been nice for Rowan to give us a clue.”

  “Why would she?” Robin asked.

  “What do you mean?” Catherine asked.

  Robin slowed the car to a stop at a red light and turned in her seat to look between Catherine and me. “Why do you think she abducted Tony?”

  “To force us to look for him, I assume.” I lifted my hands in question.

  “But, why?” Robin asked again, facing forward to watch the road. The car shifted when the light changed to green.

  A lightbulb went off. “Oh, I get it.”

  “What am I missing?” Catherine asked.

  “Rowan likely has no real intention of hurting Tony. She’s trying to stop my investigation into you, Catherine.”

  Robin nodded. She slid the car into a street parking spot across from Catherine’s building. I gathered my purse to exit the vehicle.

  Outside in the wind, I raised my voice to be heard. “My guess is that she hopes to distract us from investigating long enough for the timeline to change in her favor.”

  The three of us hurried across the street to the building. Catherine waved at the security guy behind the desk and we continued to the elevator past the mailroom.

  “How will she know the timeline has changed?” Catherine questioned.

  I frowned. “I don’t know. Based on movies like Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure, any changes in the timeline automatically take effect simultaneously across the entire timeline. So maybe she somehow will know.” Uncertainty tinged my voice but Catherine and Robin were smiling.

  The elevator pinged at the 20th floor.

  “I love that that’s your reference for time travel knowledge,” Catherine said with a chuckle.

  “It’s all I have,” I responded with a wry smile.

  Robin and I followed Catherine into her studio loft. “Drinks?” she asked.

  “Definitely,” I responded, heading for the maroon couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. At night, the view from here of Fremont and the Arts District was cool. I sat, crossed my legs, wished I had pants, remembered I had some in my bag in the other room, decided I didn’t care enough to get up to change.

  Catherine placed three glasses of white wine on the coffee table, then she and Robin sat on either side of me. We reached for the glasses at the same time, eliciting chuckles.

  “What do we think?” Catherine asked.

  “Our theory is that this is purely a tactic,” Robin summarized. “Rowan won’t hurt Tony. She’s just holding him to stop you until the timeline changes sufficiently for her to know she’s saved herself and her family.”

  “But, if she saves herself in the future, she won’t have to come back to the past,” Catherine mused. “Would she just vanish?”

  The three of us swallowed large gulps of wine.

  “Time travel is by far too complicated,” I said.

  “Rather than getting stuck on the semantics, or physics, or whatever,” Robin continued, “let’s figure out what we’re going to do.”

  “Great,” Catherine agreed. “What are we going to do?”

  We burst into laughter, that innocent but huge question somehow breaking the tension that had been building since I placed my call to Catherine.

  “Oh my,” I blurted out, then stopped. The ladies waited, but I wasn’t sure if I should say the next part. I hesitated.

  “What is it, Liz?” Catherine asked.

  “Are you guys aware of Tony, what he is?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Robin answered, though Catherine appeared confused. “I assume he told you.” Robin directed this at me and when I nodded, she turned to Catherine. “He’s a shifter, a were-panther.”

  Catherine drank another gulp of wine. “Cool,” she mumbled around the liquid.

  “He started to shift when she grabbed him. He was still shifting when they dematerialized.”

  Robin and Catherine stared at me. “Hmm,” Robin said, though declined to elaborate.

  “What?” Catherine asked. Understanding dawned as the realization hit.

  “Is Rowan guarding a panther, a human, or a half-shifted were-panther?” I asked what we were now all thinking.

  Catherine raised her eyes to the ceiling. We waited. She looked back at us. “Does it matter? I don’t think it does. He’s a powerful being. He’d want us to do what we needed to do.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed. “And what we need to do is show Rowan that she can’t force us to do things her way.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Robin asked.

  In answer, I jumped from the couch and headed for the dining area table where I’d dropped my purse. I fumbled for my cellphone and pulled it out. I scrolled for a specific number. Catherine and Robin had followed, now stood next to me.

  “Who are you calling?” Robin asked.

  “Your favorite person,” I joked. Her brow furrowed while she tried to think who I meant.

  “It’s kind of late
for a social call,” the voice on the other end said, but without rancor.

  “Good evening, Barbara,” I said.

  Robin rolled her eyes. “Barbara and I are good now,” she whispered.

  “Sorry for the late call.” I met Catherine’s and Robin’s eyes with a grin. “Any chance you’d be up for a last-minute interview tomorrow morning? We need your help.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Good morning in the Valley,” I greeted my viewers per usual. “Today we have a special report and will be delaying our original story about local author, Brian Bunter’s, new book until later in the week. Instead, Mayor Barbara Knollman will be in the studio to discuss her exciting new proposed law. After the break.” Sweat broke out despite my antiperspirant. I didn’t get nervous doing my show, so I knew the real cause. Today’s interview. I turned to my subject, sitting with no visible discomfort or anxiety in the stuffed blue chair next to mine.

  “You seem amazingly calm,” I said.

  Barbara smiled. “I have nothing to be nervous about, Liz. This is the right path.”

  I harrumphed. “Must be nice to be an angel with precognition.”

  She laughed.

  “Back in five,” a voice came from my ear bud. I faced the nearest camera and readied my smile – and steadied my nerves.

  “Before I turn the interview over to the mayor, a quick recap for viewers who may have missed yesterday’s show. Two days ago, a time traveling ghost from the future arrived to tell me I would die in three days. She demanded I cease my investigations into a certain supernatural being here in town and cease my support of Mayor Knollman’s initiatives. Spoiler alert, I didn’t.” I winked at the camera before adopting a serious countenance.

  “Today is Day 3. If this ghost is correct, today is the day of my death.” I ignored gasps I heard in the studio. Not helpful. “But you guys know me. You’ve been watching me for years now. It’s not in my nature to quit. Plus, this is bigger than one person.” I faced Barbara.

  “You and I are on the same page here,” I said. “We understand there are humans and other beings who want to stop progress, for whatever reasons.”

  “Yes, we do understand. And they are wrong.”

  “To the point as always, Mayor.” I chuckled and gestured toward her nearest camera. “The floor is yours. What is your proposal?”

  Barbara smiled into the camera. “Good morning. Today has the potential to be historic. This afternoon I will propose new legislation that will be the first step toward allowing supernatural beings, such as myself,” she reminded viewers, “to fully integrate into society. Meaning, we won’t have to hide.” She frowned. “Now, I can hear – well, not literally, that’s not my supernatural skill – the objections of some of you.” She tilted her head. “What are the dangers? What are the protections for humanity? These are legitimate concerns,” she conceded.

  “Let’s look at it another way. We have always existed. We have always lived among you. What my legislation will allow is for us to do so in full view. To ensure all are protected, my proposal includes creating a Working Group to research and make recommendations for managing expectations between humans and supernaturals. Part of that will involve developing a direct working relationship between the paranormal underworld governing body and the city council. Since I am the head of both organizations, I imagine this will be fairly painless.”

  Barbara glanced at me. “Did you have any questions, Liz?”

  “How will appointment to the supernatural governing body work? Will there be voting? Will humans be able to vote for supernatural representatives?”

  “Those are all excellent questions. The purpose of the Working Group will be to answer them. That may not be a satisfactory answer right now, but this is the best way forward. I am not a supreme leader,” she said with a chuckle. “Nor am I going to demand certain treatment for those of my kind. The Working Group will have representatives from multiple constituency and supernatural groups, appointed from within each and without interference from the others. This will allow for a diversity of opinions and suggestions for the best ways to move forward with integration.

  “These are exciting times. Las Vegas has an unprecedented opportunity to be on the front lines of progress.” She turned back toward me. “Thank you, Liz, for this opportunity to address the city.”

  I nodded and turned to the camera. “You heard it here first, folks. Las Vegas will blaze the trail in human-supernatural relations. Tune in tonight when we’ll give you the results of this historic vote.”

  The producer counted us off the air in my ear. I faced Barbara again. “Thank you again for coming on. I know it was for your benefit too, but it’s time to bring this to a head. Without me losing my head.”

  Barbara’s brow furrowed. “I hope it didn’t put you in too much danger.”

  “I was already in danger,” I responded with a shrug. “Now we see if taunting the ghost worked.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Taunting Rowan had been a calculated risk on our parts. Catherine, Robin, and I figured that the ghost would see what I was doing and identify that we were deliberately taunting her. We hoped she would refrain from coming after me or harming Tony because she would assume that would play into our hands somehow if she did. But, a side effect of her unreleased anger might be a buildup of her own energy. And that, our biggest hope, would be something we could track and home in on.

  Thus, we found ourselves back on Industrial Road visiting the Witches Council. Catherine, Robin, and I sat facing the five witches on the council.

  A space had been made between us and them, bigger than before. I’d called Jessica prior to my show, and she’d promised to have everyone assembled in time. She’d delivered.

  “Welcome,” Jessica said. “I’ve brought the other councilmembers up to speed with the plan and we’re ready to go.”

  “It was quite ingenious,” Theresa added. “I could sense the magical energy change as the show went on.”

  “We should be able to pinpoint the highest concentration of that energy in the city,” Matt assured us, running his hand over his bald head.

  The witches stood and we scrambled to follow suit.

  “You’ll notice we’ve already pulled chairs out of the way to allow room to create the circle,” Jessica explained. She approached us, carrying a bag, presumably of supplies for whatever spell we were about to cast.

  “We’ll conduct a finding ritual,” Theresa said, reaching into the bag to pull out four candles. She spoke as she placed and lit each candle in the corners of the space. “These are to help cleanse the energy and call the corners for the ritual.” She glanced around at the assembled people. “We have more than enough witches to channel the elements for the ritual, so we’ll use those of us with the stronger relevant magic. Given my sensing abilities, I’ll take point.” She seemed to direct this explanation more at us than her fellow councilmembers, but they nodded when she finished.

  Theresa placed and lit a red candle. “Robin, I know you’re not a member of the council, but since you’re able to control energy, including lightning, you will pull the energy of fire.” Robin stood next to the candle and closed her eyes. She murmured under her breath.

  I already knew how Robin had summoned and directed a bolt of lightning to kill the witch that Barbara had sent to kill Robin’s boyfriend last month. An involuntary shiver went through me at the thought of that much power. And, yet, Catherine was the one who was impacting the timeline. I refocused on the scene before me.

  Theresa placed and lit a blue candle. “Marcie, with your feminine energy and emotion skills, you will channel water energy.” The young blond stood beside her candle, closed her eyes, and joined Robin in softly chanting.

  Hmm, what could ‘emotion skills’ be? Catherine could sense others’ emotions and Mia could manipulate others’ emotions. At which end of that spectrum did Marcie’s abilities reside? She looked so young and innocent to possess
a skill like that.

  Theresa placed and lit a white candle. “Jessica, with your purity of spirit, you will channel the energy of the air.” The redhead took her place beside the candle and joined in the quiet chanting.

  Purity of spirit perplexed me. Weren’t they all what were known as white witches? Wouldn’t they all have pure spirits? This whole process fascinated me.

  Theresa placed and lit a green candle. “And I will channel the energy of the earth herself. This will allow me to narrow my focus on the sensed energy to a specific location on the planet – ideally, where Rowan has taken our friend.”

  Catherine and I, along with the other members of the council not involved in the ritual, remained outside the invisible circle watching. The chanting stayed indecipherable and then stopped. Theresa’s eyes opened.

  “Thank you, goddess, for your support of our circle. Thank you to each of the elements. We focus our intent on finding our lost friend. Show me the location of the energy spike from this morning.”

  Unlike the earlier rhythmic quality, Theresa’s request was surprisingly matter-of-fact, almost conversational. My gaze wandered across the faces of the others in the circle. Their eyes remained closed, though they stayed quiet.

  Theresa’s eyes widened for a moment and then closed again. I saw movement under her eyelids like she was dreaming. Was she having a vision? This was so cool.

  In concert, all four women’s heads dropped, chins resting on chests. A simultaneous deep inhale, exhale, and their eyes opened. Smiles blossomed across their faces, mirrored by the other members of the council not taking part in the circle. Catherine and I exchanged a confused glance. Did it work?

  “It worked,” Theresa explained to us, as though reading my mind.

  “Where is he?” I asked. Please be in town. In our own time. Unharmed.

  The four women blew out their candles before Theresa answered. “He’s okay, in our time, and still in Las Vegas.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said with a palpable sense of relief.

  “He’s downtown,” she continued.