Jack was no longer a ghost.
And, luckily for him, it appeared as if he’d never been shot at all. His head was in remarkably good condition.
“What the…” I began when it dawned on me that maybe I’d changed places with him and I was now the ghost. A shriek of horror welled up within me, but was gobbled up by Christa who engulfed me in her arms.
“Thank God you’re alright! I thought you were going to die!”
I pried her arms from my neck. “What the fu…” I interrupted myself, thinking I should inspect my arms to ensure there was nothing ethereal about them. Nope, I looked as fleshy as Rand and Christa…and Jack. Then I got angry. “What the flipping hell crap-shit was that?”
As soon as I met Rand’s gaze, I knew it was bad—shock on the face of a powerful warlock is not a good thing. “I don’t know. You started to scream and then Jack’s ghost disappeared and was replaced with…the real Jack,” he said.
I looked up at the person in question and found he was the only one of us wearing a smile.
“I’m Jack,” he said as if we were on a dating game and I’d just selected undead bachelor number six-six-six.
“But, he’s…he’s dead,” I insisted.
Rand frowned. “Was dead. It seems you brought him back to life.” Rand was so matter of fact, he might as well have just given the weather report.
“I did what?” I squealed. But that wasn’t possible! Like children playing tag, my thoughts scattered as I tried to find a logical reason as to how this could be. How in the hell did I, Jolie Wilkins, manage to bring back a dead person? I couldn’t even balance my checkbook! “But that wasn’t supposed to happen. I did what you told me to do!” I wailed, my voice cracking.
Rand put his hand on my upper arm. Instantly, the anxiety seeped from my body, replaced with a soft calm. Ah, warlock magic.
“You did everything perfectly, Jolie. I think I underestimated your abilities.”
“Well how are we going to send him back?” I asked, still shell-shocked.
“Hell, I’m not going back!” Jack said from the corner. “This is better than I’d hoped for. All I wanted to know was who killed me, and you did one better, you brought me back to life!”
Who killed him? Oh, yeah, about that, I wasn’t sure if I could tell him his beloved wife killed him. Perfect time for a little one on one with Rand.
His wife killed him. I’m not sure we should say anything about it.
Rand’s gaze jumped from Jack to me and he raised a brow. I wasn’t sure if he was surprised due to the situation or the fact that I was teleconnecting with him.
I don’t think he’s much concerned with it. We can discuss it later…Are you alright? Christ, you scared me.
I think I’m okay. Just a bit shocked.
“So, is this a success, then?” Christa asked. “Do we go back to L.A. tomorrow?”
Hmm, that was a good question. Was this a success or would Rand want to send Jack back? Did this break some sort of rule in the universe? I had no idea. And if Rand did want to send Jack back, how would he? I didn’t think he’d just kill Jack, that didn’t seem the right thing to do.
“I don’t know what to do at the moment,” Rand said.
“I’m not going back,” Jack interrupted, and his gaze rested on me. “That little fox brought me back an’ I’m obliged to ya, ma’am.” He inclined his head toward me.
Little fox?
What do we do now? I asked Rand.
I don’t know. I thought it was going to be a simple matter of finding out who killed him. Now, I’m not sure what I’m going to tell my friend.
Your friend?
The woman who hired me is his daughter.
Well this was quite the quandary—would the daughter be pleased her long dead father was now alive and probably three times younger than she was? Or would I be in a serious pile of crap?
“What are we doin’ sittin’ around here?” Jack asked. He stood up, then swayed as if he were a bit rocky on his feet and not used to the weight of his body. I guess being a ghost for nearly ninety years will do that to you.
It was just a matter of time before Christa chimed in. I gave her less than five seconds.
“Yeah! We should go out!” It had taken her about two seconds.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…” Rand started, looking at me h a f he thought I needed some recuperation time. At least someone was thinking about me.
Jack neared the door and threw off Rand’s caution with a wave of his jelly-like arm. Apparently, Jack didn’t realize that if Rand didn’t want him to leave, he wasn’t going to.
“There’s a whole city alive out there that I haven’t seen in nearly one hundred years…” Jack began. Christa was right beside him.
I faced the glum countenance of Rand and smiled, thinking I needed a drink. Yeah, that’s exactly what I needed—a drink or five.
“What harm could it do?” I asked.
“Bloody hell,” Rand grumbled and apparently realizing it was three against one, reached for his coat. So, it was set, we were going for a night on the town—quite the motley crew: a warlock, a witch in denial, a badly dressed woman and a re-animated dead man.
#
I sat in an over-stuffed booth and tried to breathe through the cloud of smoke that billowed out of the nightclub. And I don’t mean cigarette smoke. This smoke was white pina-colada scented puffs that served no purpose other than irritating me. Hip-hop blared out of the one-room club, making it tough to hear myself think. There were another four booths that circled the small dance floor that was so packed with people, they only had enough room to sway in place.
To the casual observer, the other four booths would’ve been entirely more engrossing than ours—their occupants either making out, fighting or partaking of some illegal substance.
Rand had ordered a round of drinks, and now he and I sat in silence, keeping a sharp eye on Jack, who was dancing with Christa and seemed about as happy as happy could be. As was to be expected, Jack had been shocked by the Chicago of today when compared to one hundred years ago. He seemed to deal with it well enough, though, with the help of a few shots of whiskey and a toast to the death of prohibition.
Rand on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as jovial. It’d been a good five minutes that he’d said nothing. He continued to scour the place, as if afraid someone was waiting in the shadows to snatch Jack away.
“So, what do you suppose happened?” I yelled, trying to best the volume of the club’s sound system. “How did I manage to bring Jack to life again?”
Rand faced me with a small smile, so small I couldn’t see his dimples and felt cheated.
I’ve never seen anything like it before. There was a brilliant light and then Jack was lying on the floor in the kitchen…alive.
I grinned as I realized I didn’t need to scream to compete with the noise of the club. I’d forgotten we could converse through thoughts. Wow, that’s pretty much what happened to me. I saw a bright light too and it felt like energy was flowing out of me or something. When I came out of it, Jack was dead. Then I started screaming.
And I slapped youSorry about that, by the way.
I wasn’t concerned with apologies at the moment. I was still caught up in the why and the how of it. Maybe I’d managed to lend some of my own life to Jack? I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, though. I’d rather keep my life to myself, even if it did make sense. I’d had the distinct feeling, at the time, that I was losing some part of me. And if such were the case, I had to wonder what that meant for me. Would it shorten my own life? I certainly felt fine now, as if it had never happened.
I hate having unanswerable questions.
How do you think your friend will react to us resurrecting Jack? I asked.
I don’t know. His daughter is a witch…a strong one at that and one I don’t want as an enemy.
I sipped my amaretto sour, my drink of choice. And she hired you?
He nodded. Sort
of. It’s more of a favor.
So, if she’s a witch, does that mean Jack has special powers?
Rand shook his head, and I imagined we must’ve looked mighty odd to anyone who hazarded a glance our way. Neither one of us talking, but making gestures as if we were...
No, Jack was…well, is a normal human.
Thousands of questions percolated through my head like a swarm of locusts. Why couldn’t she just find out who killed him herself? Seems weird for her to wait so long.
Rand sighed as if he wasn’t in the mood for explanations. Witches and warlocks all exceed at certain things; we don’t all have the same powers. She couldn’t have done the spell herself. Perhaps we could’ve done it together in time, but I don’t trust her, never have. I needed someone I could trust.
So, he didn’t trust the Wicked Witch of the West, but he trusted me? The thought made me tingle with pride, like the feeling a nerdy kid gets in PE when the popular kids pick him to be on their team.
There was a lull in the music, so I thought I’d give my voice a try.
“Why did she wait so long?”
“Witchcraft is a lot like technology, we make leaps and bounds over the years. Neither she nor I would’ve been strong enough to attempt something like this forty years ago.”
Hmm. That was interesting. So what did it mean that I was able to bring Jack back? Maybe I did have more ability than I thought. That was sort of a nice feeling. I’d never excelled at much in my life. Sure, I’d been a good enough student, but I never stood out. No homecoming queen or valedictorian for me. I was just the girl next door, the one on the sidelines. And now? Well now, I did have something to feel proud about, something infinitely better than homecoming queen or class president.
“Does this mean Christa and I can go back to L.A.?” I asked, sipping the last of my sour. I noticed Rand was already on his second double Jameson. Apparently, warlocks could hold their alcohol.
The music started up again.
I suppose so. You did the job I hired you for.
The very beginning of a smile tugged at his lips, his dimples just barely cresting. My blood warmed at the expression, and I had to look away. I couldn’t say I shared his amusement with the whole situation. The stupid truth of it was that I felt an infinite sadness with the prospect that our little mission was at its end. I downed the remnants of my sour, hoping I’d swallow my gloom at the same time.
It occurred to me I was developing feelings for Rand, and I was definitely not okay with that. Having a crush, or whatever you want to call it, on anyone was dangerous—that whole broken heart thing not sounding especially appealing. But someone like Rand…I couldn’t even contemplate it. True, I was a bit lonely but other than that, it wasn’t half-bad. I had a nice house and a reliable car, a cat that needed me, and a best friend. The last thing I wanted was an emotional devastation. Yes, feelings for Rand were not a good idea.
I looked up and found Rand studying me. A flush crept up my neck like a thief in the night, and I faced my drink again, playing with the ice cubes. I blinked and the glass was full. I had to stifle a gasp and looked up with wide eyes.
Looks like you needed another one.
Why’d you buy them the first time around? I thought, taking a sip. It tasted even better than the first—stronger, sweeter.
He shrugged. Best not to arouse suspicion.
It seems like you’re very careful about people’s suspicions?
There are rules in this lifestyle and one of them is that we have to blend in with everyone else, not draw attention to ourselves. It wouldn’t be a good situation were people to find out we exist.
I nodded, as if I could commiserate. Well, thanks for the drink.
I scanned the room, my attention falling on Jack and Christa who were dancing pretty close. Oh no, tell me she wasn’t going to go for the newly undead? Christa amazed me. Find a good-looking guy and she was all over him. I was somewhat surprised she’d given up on Rand. He was definitely more the prize than Jack.
What’s on your mind?
Hmm, might as well tell him the truth. I’m just watching Jack and Christa. I’m surprised she’s set her sights on him. I didn’t think she’d give up on you quite so soon. I held my glass up as if to cheers him and his incredible looks.
Rand chuckled. Ah, well, about that…I put a halt to it. Now, she thinks of me as her brother.
Surprise pulled on my eyelashes, forcing my eyes wider. Why’d you do that? Christa’s a beautiful girl.
Yes, she is, but not one I’m interested in. I don’t mix business with pleasure.
I couldn’t help but recall our near kiss, and my heart suffered as if Cupid was stabbing it with his little arrow. Maybe he’d known I’d pull away? Either way, Rand was right; it was common sense not to mix business with pleasure. I should be thinking the exact same way, I was thinking the exact same way.
Good motto. I thought with a grin.
He nodded, but his eyes held a vacant stare, like a mannequin. He strummed his fingers on the table and continued staring into space. I couldn’t say I was enjoying my evening with Vapid Man and my stomach churned with the liquor I’d forced into it. Hmm, maybe Rand’s magic amaretto sour was much better quality than its unmagic cousin.
My hotel room started calling my name.
“I think I’m going to call it a night,” I said and made a motion of standing, swaying with the effort.
Rand wore a look of surprise. “So early?”
“Yes, I’m not feeling great.”
Rand stood and scanned the crowd, his gaze resting on Jack. Then he faced me again. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“No need. I can find my way back.”
“I insist.” It was futile arguing with him. He sure took this gentleman stuff to extremes.
“What about Jack?”
He held my arm, and we neared the door. “I put a charm on him. He won’t be able to move from that spot.”
“Can you do the same for Christa?”
“Already did. They won’t notice a thing.”
We walked out of the club, and I found myself in the rain again, the drops plastering my hair to my face until I’m sure I looked like a drowned rat. Rand hailed a cab and opened the door for me as I crawled in. I was careful to keep to my side of the cab, not wanting to give Rand the wrong idea—especially after his comment about separating business and pleasure.
The five-minute cab ride was a silent one. Before I knew it, we pulled up to the hotel, and a squat valet opened the door for me. I ran for the lobby, not wanting the rain to further destroy any semblance of attractiveness I might have left. My hair was beyond repair, but hopefully my mascara wasn’t running. Rand caught up with me and the rain dripped down his face, testing my restraint to dab the drops away.
“Well, thanks for getting me back to the hotel,” I said.
“I’d like to see you to your room, if you don’t mind.”
I swallowed my surprise and didn’t have a chance to respond before the elevator dinged and opened its doors. Rand took my arm and led me in, hitting the button for the sixth floor as the doors closed behind us.
“Your hands are freezing,” he said and rubbed them between his. I didn’t respond, and the elevator dinged again, announcing my floor. I stepped out and watched Rand do the same. I guess he was serious about walking me to my door.
“Well, thanks Rand,” I started.
“Do you mind if we talk some more?”
I shrugged, secretly delighted he wanted to stay. “Sure. I should start to feel better soon, I hope.”
I slipped the room key into the slot and pushed against the door when it blinked green. Rand followed me inside and shut the door behind him. I turned around and had to stifle my gasp when I found him directly in front of me.
“Where do you feel sick?”
I backed away a step. “My stomach hurts.”
With no hesitation, he sealed the distance between us, placing his hand on my belly. His oth
er hand went around my back to steady me. Before I had a chance to squirm, wish my stomach were smaller or ask what the hell was going on, I no longer felt sick.
He backed away then and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Wow, I feel a lot better.”
Rand took a seat on a wingchair near the bed. “You can do that to yourself as well. Next time you have a headache, just put your hand on your head, and focus all your energy on removing the pain.”
Good to know. “Thanks. What else can I do?”
He kicked his long legs up on the ottoman and I couldn’t help but notice how large his feet were. Ergh.
“Whatever you want, you just have to make sure your focus is there, that’s all it is. Focusing on what you want to happen and then making it happen.”
Wow! This sounded pretty cool. I took my jacket off, contemplating some of the different things I might want to do with this newfound power. Change the curtains in the room? No, not that interesting, and I’m sure hotel management wouldn’t approve. My gaze settled on my reflection in a mirror at the far corner of the room.
Perfect.
“Teach me how to change myself.”
Rand’s brows knitted together as he stood up and closed the distance between us. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I want to see what I’d look like with different hair and…” His frown deepened. “It’s just for fun, Rand.”
He shook his head, the beginnings of a smirk toying with his sumptuous lips. Setting his hands on my shoulders, he pushed me toward the mirror. He stood so close behind me; I could feel his heat and had to fight the urge to sink into him. His face in the mirror behind me was so perfect, I imagined he’d done some magic work on himself. How anyone be so handsome?
“Look at yourself and focus on what you want to do.”
His breath tickled the fine hairs on my ear and I nearly forgot what I’d set out to do. “I want to change my eyes to brown,” I finally managed. I met his gaze, and he mouthed: focus. Pulling my attention from his male perfection, I focused. And focused.
“Nothing’s happening.”
Rand chuckled. “Maybe because your beautiful blue eyes are offended.”
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