There is a tsking noise to her left where the man with the French accent stands, seemingly unfazed by Narcissa's show of power. "Now, now, is that anyway to treat visitors?" he asks in a gentle tone as Galen struggles to get up.
"You," she points her staff at each of them in turn. "Are not visitors. Anyone who breaks into my home is trespassing and therefore gets no welcome from me."
She sets a quick spell that sends Galen flying against a wall before pointing her stick at the door, opening it. She says another quick spell, this time inserting Galen's name, throwing him from the house and skidding him down the driveway off her property. The wards do most of the work to push him out of their sphere of influence. He bangs his head a couple times and by the time he reaches the car that’s parked on the street, he is unconscious. Narcissa turns her attention to the man with the French accent, pointing her stick at him. “You can leave too."
He smiles at her and puts up his hands as if he means it to be disarming. She notes his hands are clear of any kind of tattoo, yet she is positive he is a Warrior. He carries himself like an older one, which makes him more dangerous than some young guy who hasn’t pledged his allegiance. This is the New World where you can get away with that kind of thing; in the Old World Warriors without allegiance were dangerous.
"I suppose you're not a fan of Galen. That's fair. I find him a tad irritating myself. But I have a proposition for you and I would be remiss if I didn't at least try to bring it up." He stands his ground, in fact he takes half a step towards her and Narcissa immediately says an incantation that creates a bubble of protection around her person. He won’t be able to get closer than a foot and a half away without risking a kind of electric jolt. She points her staff back at him.
The man with the French accent stops moving and his hands slowly slides to his sides. "My, you have quite a number of tricks up your sleeve. The rumors I’ve heard about you, I see, are very clearly true." He says it with a smile as if she is some new toy he’ll purchase.
Though adrenaline burns through her system, there is only a slight bit of panic. She has been in life-and-death situations before and she knows this man is dangerous, but she also knows panic will make her sloppy and she needs her wits about her if she is going to get this man out of her house.
"Get out of my house." She enunciates every word slowly without moving her gaze from him.
Finally he takes a step towards the door, but a small one. "We're trying to start a whole new world order. I can tell already I'm going to like you very much. I am willing to offer you the whole practitioner world if you'll join us. You would be the head of the Council or a dictatorship. Whatever strikes your fancy. All you would have to do is join us."
Narcissa knows a snake in the grass when she sees it. What he is offering is probably what he offered Galen and who knew how many other MPs that turned against their own people. She knows better. No offer that sounds like that ever comes true.
"I believe my thoughts on the matter are unchanged. Leave," she demands as sternly as she can.
He tsks again, shaking his head as he takes two more steps towards the door, but still faces her. "You don't want to make enemies with us, Narcissa. We are powerful enough to cause you problems. If you at least promise to stay out of our way, I think we can live in peace."
She doesn’t like this new line he is drawing in the sand. If he’s willing to give up his position of having her on his team, either there is something else brewing or he is that worried about her.
"I step in the way of anyone who is unjust to my people or those around us. If you plan on causing upheaval with the entire Kingdom I can't not stand in your way."
Shaking his head, the Frenchman finally stands in her doorway, on the inside of it so she can’t exactly close the door on him. "Wrong answer, I'm afraid. It's going to be a pity to see you go."
Two things happen at once. One: the Frenchman steps outside and she slams the door behind him. Two: she feels a wire whoosh past her face and tighten around her neck. Her first thought is the initial shock that someone was able to penetrate her bubble of protection. That never should've happened. Unless they are a stronger practitioner than she or there was some sort of talisman blessed by enough MPs to counteract her own magic but who would do that.
She knows she only has a matter of seconds before she’ll lose her air supply and go unconscious so she instinctively kicks out where she assumes between the legs is. She lucks out; her assailant is male and her leg hits home hard enough, followed by an immediate hit with her staff that the arms loosen enough for her to tap the wire with her staff and say a quick and dirty spell to make it dissolve.
She turns to face her assailant. She is baffled to find a Shapeshifter, wild-eyed and angry standing behind her. He looks more like a computer technician than a thug. As he lunges toward her, she quickly does the same spell on him she did on Galen and he flies into the far wall, leaving a large dent. She calls for the door to open again, as he is getting up much faster than Galen since Shapeshifters have far superior strength to a Magical Practitioner. She tosses him outside and lets the wards bang him around on the sidewalk until he too hits the side of the car the Frenchman is getting into.
The Frenchman looks up in surprise at her before smiling cordially, giving a wave, and opening the door to throw his unconscious compatriots in the backseat, as if they are luggage and the attack meant nothing.
Narcissa closes her door and locks it, saying a quick spell to not fix it but to duct tape over the problem until one of the pirates or a handyman can do the job the rest of the way. She reinforces every single ward, adding the descriptions of the three men who were just there, as well as extra protections. No one will be able to go on the property without her permission.
It isn’t until after she is exhausted from doing the wards, some twenty minutes later that she remembers Rex is still on the phone. She yanks it from her skirt and almost yells into the receiver, "Rex? Rex are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. I had no idea what I could do for you. I was preparing all of this stuff to see if I could get a spell to lend you strength but luckily you seem to have fended them off. When you started doing spells that were clearly warding your home I started texting everyone we know and telling them what just happened. Although I don't have descriptions, you'll have to text me those, all I had was a man with a French accent."
Narcissa nods as she flops down in one of her kitchen chairs exhausted from the work. She isn’t as young as she used to be and while her abilities have grown and stretched with time, she no longer has the boundless energy she possessed in her youth. Her body is worn thin. It feels as if she has a strong flu and her life force is seeping from her body.
That thought gets her attention. She shouldn't feel sick. Exhausted, yes most definitely. But it should just be a bone-deep weariness; she shouldn't feel as if something is wrong with her body.
Hoping she’s overreacting but knowing deep down her gut feeling is usually right, dread settles in the pit of her stomach. She checks in and assesses her body. Sure enough, something is wrong. Narcissa grabs the phone and runs into the small downstairs powder room. She flips the light and illuminates the space. She stares directly at her neck. Sure enough, there is dried blood, though not enough that would generally worry someone. But from how she feels, Narcissa is sure there has been some kind of spell, or poison, or both, on that wire. She got rid of it so there is no way to double-check it.
"Narcissa? Narcissa, you're being awfully quiet and that's starting to concern me," Rex calls through the phone loudly.
Narcissa grabs her phone and returns to her living room to settle into the couch before answering. She wants to be comfortable when she tries to expel whatever this is from her body.
"You might need to do that spell to lend me strength. It would appear the wire they tried to choke me with wasn't the only thing meant to kill me. There was either a spell on it or poison. I'm not sure which and since I didn'
t sense it immediately, it's had at least twenty minutes to course through my system. I don't have the magical reserves left to clear it alone so any help on this will be appreciated."
There are several curses, increasingly louder and she hears rustling as if Rex is running somewhere. "Doing it now and texting Ruby and Dina because off the top of my head they are the only two who are strong enough to donate energy to get you as much help as we can. Stay on the phone!" Rex demands in a panicked voice.
"Fine, but I'm not going to be real talkative," Narcissa replies but this time her voice is wearier, as whatever is coursing through her system is starting to really take effect now.
Whether the increase in adrenaline helped push it through faster or it is the way the poison works she doesn’t know. Her small frame eases onto the overstuffed cushions. She places one hand on her chest and the other over her neck, where the poison entered her system. She searches her body for her usual energy. Unfortunately whatever it was already made its way across her system so this isn’t going to be a quick job of expelling whatever it is. Narcissa feels her body grow weaker as she sinks into her mind, chanting calmly to herself. She now is positive, it is a poison infiltrating her system.
As a gray MP, Narcissa does not have a wide knowledge when it comes to poisons and poisonous spells. The only ones she knows anything about are the ones she encountered over her life or the ones she heard about in passing and then researched later. This poison feels different than any of those. She doesn’t have time to figure out if this poison is manufactured or natural. She isn’t even sure she has time to remove it completely from her system. She inadvertently wasted a precious twenty minutes she could've used to cure herself.
Moving her consciousness deep within her veins Narcissa concentrates on every spell she can think of for removing the poison from her body. Finally, after who-knows-how-long, one of them starts working. She starts to remove it, redoubling her efforts, rolling the poison in on itself and down her body. It is similar to rolling a cinnamon roll in that the poison rolls bigger at the base as she removes it from the rest of her system. She has to work slowly and maintain a steady effort. Even though she wants to hurry she can’t risk missing something and leaving some of it behind.
When she finally pushes the last of it into a ball she finds there is nowhere for it to go since it seems to be more physical poison than magic, so as fast as she dares she pulls it into her digestive tract and proceeds to vomit heavily. She tries to ignore the fact that she is vomiting on the hardwood floors that were only installed about five years before. She also tries to ignore the weird coloring of the vomit and that there is clearly blood involved.
She hears Rex in the background but can’t focus on what he is saying. Finally, exhausted, her body collapses onto the couch and Narcissa falls asleep. Her body is quaking from the effort, still wanting to retch and sweating profusely from the effort. But there is simply nothing left in her stomach to give up. Her last thought as she drifts off is what a pain it is going to be the clean the vomit when she wakes up.
Chapter 7
This is not at all what Narcissa expected her funeral to be like. She expected a joyful celebration of her life. What she got is a melancholy crowd despite the pastor trying on multiple occasions to cheer them up. It is surreal to be watching her own funeral, but she didn’t see the light from the other side of the veil like she expected to. So she ended up following her family members and the pirate brothers, watching, waiting, unable to comfort them in their grief.
Now she watches them, her death still fresh in many of their minds as more people than she ever expected have traveled down to Mississippi for her funeral. Both Buccaneer and Bandit wear large sunglasses to hide their red-rimmed eyes because neither of them will be seen in public having cried. She sees her niece and nephew and their families dutifully mournful but not in as much of an emotional upheaval as the members of the Night World. She hears one of them ask the other if they know who all of these people are. Her cousin, who she ended up treating like a sister after her parents died, doesn’t participate in the Night World. That was apparently passed down to her children. They aren’t strong enough MPs to make much of a difference, but she is surprised at the lack of knowledge they have about the world they supposedly belong to.
Narcissa pushes that train of thought aside; there is no sense in dwelling on it now. There is nothing she can do about the lack of understanding of the abilities that run strong in their family because she has passed on. It has also been this way most of their lives so there is no sense in rocking their world at their ages. If she is still curious she can ask her cousin once Narcissa joins her on the other side of the veil. As she continues to watch, the ceremony finally ends. There was a larger ceremony at the church, but she wasn’t able to watch that part. So she joined them at the gravesite.
As Narcissa watches, people mingle and wander away, most with a high level of sadness.
At a loss for what to do she jumps when she hears a voice over her shoulder. "You know, it's kind of a testament to you that so many people came out to pay their respects," the male voice says in a forcibly light tone.
Narcissa whips around, unsure of who could possibly be behind her. She doesn’t have the strongest understanding of the spirit world, but she knows enough to know there are more foes than friends.
When she fully turns she sees Harold standing behind her, clearly a spirit much like herself. The realization saddens her and she leans in and gives him a hug. They only embrace for a moment before she backs up
"Harold, I'm so sorry. What happened to you? I mean clearly you died, but how?"
He gave her a shrug and his lips move in a semblance of a smile. "Some MPs I’ve only barely heard of and none of them good things, as well as a few Weres stormed my house the day after I last spoke to Rex. They decided they couldn't convince me to join them so they would take me out. I fought as best I could but, it seems they had this..."
"Poison," Narcissa finishes for him.
"Ah, I see they got you the same way," Harold responds, tightlipped.
Turning back to the people in front of her final resting place Narcissa speaks under her breath, "Apparently so. I thought I cleared it from my system before passing out but apparently I didn’t."
There is a snort from behind her as he moves to stand next to her in a most improbable place since now his lower half is in a tombstone. "You got farther than I did. I just realized it was a poison in time to die from it. But then you always were a better fighter than me, so it probably took me longer to fight them off."
The two of them stand and watch as people clear. Narcissa holds her breath as Bandit walks towards HJ and her sisters. Without meaning to she somehow moves, lightning fast, to a few feet in front of them.
She must've made some kind of sound because Harold is over her shoulder again, chuckling. "Yeah, the whole intention causing movement thing takes some getting used to."
She only grunts a reply as the sisters turn and notice Bandit standing next to them.
He takes the opportunity to pull out the slim book and lift it between him and HJ. Her sisters exchange glances then quietly back away. It looks like they are hoping their sister and Bandit have a thing. They probably know they don’t but that won’t stop the sisters from trying to help launch a new relationship on HJ considering the last one didn't go well.
"What is that?" she asks him suspiciously.
He sticks his arm out farther, bringing the book inches closer. "I don't know. It is a book Narcissa forgot to give you. She instructed me to hand it to you in person next time I was in your neck of the woods. Since you came to the funeral I figured I would just give it to you here and save myself the trip."
HJ looks at him curiously but puts out her hands so he can drop the book into her palms, their hands never touching.
"Oh, come on! Just touch hands! That is all you need to do, Bandit," Narcissa hollers loudly to the couple in front of her.
>
She sees Lucia a group away jump as if startled. Lucia looks in Narcissa's general direction, but frowns when she doesn’t see anything. It is a curious reaction as Narcissa isn’t aware that Lucia can hear or contact the spirit world at all. Normally it would be a tidbit to chew on later, but she isn’t sure she’ll have the chance to do anything with that information.
"I take it they are destined to be mates," Harold asks, fighting to keep the smile from his voice. Narcissa can tell he is amused without looking at the other MP.
"Yes, I had a vision of them together. And they always seem to avoid touching each other."
"Thanks, I guess. What's that on your arm?" HJ asks Bandit.
With his arm outstretched and his sleeves rolled up due to the balmy weather, the edge of his latest tattoo peeks out from beneath the black cloth.
Narcissa knows what it is. She stayed with both pirate brothers as they got the tattoos. They didn’t know she was there. With their grief, even if they could see the spirit world, they wouldn't have noticed her.
The pirate brothers grieved for Narcissa as strongly as she feared they would. She stayed with them for every prick of the new tattoos, because even though she didn't enjoy seeing them stone faced, staring off into space as if their souls no longer lived within their bodies, she knows what the tattoos represent: they are a family now and forever, even if not by blood.
He rolls up his sleeve more to show the ink on his arm. "It's a memorial."
The tattoo itself is a stylized cartoon reminiscent of something from the 1960s. A woman sitting on a broom in a witch's hat. The difference is this cartoon woman bears a strong resemblance to Narcissa when she was in her early twenties, only drawn in a pinup style. It is a fitting tribute that showed the pirate brothers' humor was still shining even through their grief. Narcissa couldn't ask to be remembered in a better way.
Visions Across the Veil Page 7