Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 3)

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Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 3) Page 13

by Karen Ranney


  I worked with a guy once who had a terrible habit of scratching himself, regardless of where he was. He always seemed to be standing, however, and not far away from a female. One hand would descend to his crotch, his thumb would flick out to adjust the offending testicle, give it a quick pat, then return to whatever he was doing before he got the urge. Or he would do the quick swerve of a hand and give the testicles a knuckle brush. It didn’t matter if you were involved in something vitally important at the time, your attention was always drawn to Bob’s balls.

  I felt sorry for Bob’s wife, especially when he retired. I knew he would be scratching himself until the day he died. Now I wondered if Bob was a flea ridden werewolf. That would explain so much.

  Werewolves found it easier to form legal bonds, such as marriage, with other werewolves, but they weren’t limited to mating within their species. They could, and did, mate with coyotes when in their werewolf form. That hardly seemed fair when the werewolf was so much bigger.

  Their antipathy to vampires wasn’t based on their form as much as historical precedence. Vampires and werewolves have each vied to be the dominant paranormal species. Knowing what I know of vampires now, however, I think they were cheating all along. They weren’t actually paranormal. Oh, some of them, like Maddock, might be able to acquire some powers along the way, like the ability to move like the wind, but they were basically humans who lived with a blood disease.

  The Archivist hadn’t listed how the werewolves became werewolves, which disappointed me. He did state that they weren’t required to remain in wolf form for twelve hours once they’d changed, although that had become the accustomed norm. Shifting too often led to the aforementioned pelt problem and also a softening of the bones resulting in severe arthritis in later years. Many senior werewolves found it less painful to take anti-psychotic drugs rather than transforming.

  Werewolves weren’t like vampires in that they were still in the closet and, according to the Archivist, that’s exactly where they wanted to stay. The physiology of the werewolf and his transformation weren’t known to science, but they suspected the minute they were outed they’d be under the microscope.

  I didn’t blame them for hiding.

  I’d gotten to the section on elves when I decided to take a break. I stood and kneed the chaise close to the window until I had cleared an area.

  Right now I wanted to see if I could expand on those powers I’d demonstrated. Not the zapping people with emotions, but the other part, the remote viewing that I hadn’t practiced since the first time it happened, right here in this room.

  While I was at it, I was going to try to find my phone, my Kindle, and my brush. Enough was enough. At least the thief hadn’t taken my clothes. Yet.

  I moved to the center of the space. Charlie, smart dog that he was, lay against the far wall, keeping a safe distance. Either he was precognitive or he had learned that when I had a certain look on my face it was better to just stay as far away as possible.

  I stood there quietly, my feet spread a little. My arms were at my side, my shoulders straight, my head erect with my eyes closed.

  My aura appeared in my mind, the gold glow like fiery flames. I extinguished the flames and cooled the aura. I didn't want protection now.

  I visualized my belongings and raised my aura, pushing it until it hit the walls of my suite.

  The items weren’t here.

  I extended my aura out into the corridor, something I’d never done. I saw the layout of the castle in my mind and realized that I didn’t know it well enough to go room to room. Instead, I lifted my internal sight upward, like an elevator.

  Higher and higher I went until I was on top of the castle. I could see the lake, the flower gardens, the outbuildings, and the drive to the gate.

  I allowed my vision to go dark, then imagined I held my phone in my hand.

  “Where are you?”

  I heard Charlie make a noise and realized I’d spoken aloud. I concentrated on my phone and my mind reacted like a hungry cartoon character following the scent of a pie cooling on a window sill. In the next instant, I was in a small, dark place. My brush was there. My phone was tucked into a zippered pocket. My Kindle was in a flap on the outside of the purse.

  I dropped down a little, locating the purse on the end of a bed in one of the castle’s bedrooms. Beside the purse was a white robe. Okay, so the owner was a witch. That surprised me. I’d half expected the thief to be Diane Trenton. I hovered above the room, unable to pick out anything that would identify the occupant further. I moved to the closet. Someone loved flowing fabric in multicolor prints.

  That one dress was familiar. I remembered it from the first time I’d met Janet.

  I knew she didn't like me and at first I’d thought it was simply because Dan had been kind to me. It wasn't a personal thing as much as it was a mother thing. The longer she and I knew each other, however, the more I think it had turned into a personal dislike, an antipathy that I had experienced only rarely in my life.

  It's hard when somebody doesn't like you, especially when you've given them no cause. Yet it's a waste of time to try to change their minds. Opinions like that rarely change. You just have to accept it and roll on.

  That's the reason I didn't bother with Facebook anymore and I rarely tweeted. First of all, before I was turned into a vampire, my life wasn't very interesting and I couldn't see boring people with what I did every day. But the real reason was the confrontation with a girl who’d attended my high school. She hadn’t liked me then and her feelings hadn’t mellowed over the years. She kept sending me these really rude direct messages. I kept blocking her, but she'd find a way to slip past it. The degree of participation versus the aggravation made me deactivate my Facebook profile. Maybe one day I’d go back, introduce myself as Marcie Montgomery, resident goddess, and post a few interesting tidbits.

  How much you want to bet that the vampires would “Like” me all to heck and back, not to mention all the other groups who wanted to drain me of my blood?

  I lifted myself, looking down at the landscape below me as if it were a Google map. I was racing upward, higher and higher until I could see the curve of the earth below my feet. The sensation of weightlessness was both exhilarating and terrifying.

  Although I wasn’t actually there, it felt as if I were. I had to relax and enjoy the experience. Intellectually, I knew that if I opened my eyes I would find myself in my room at Arthur's Folly. Only my mind was exploring. Otherwise, I was safe and protected and wasn't going to fall. Emotionally, I was a little spooked out by what I was doing.

  I descended slowly, watching with a sense of awe as the earth grew bigger and bigger. There was Austin to the north, then San Marcos and New Braunfels, Loop 1604 circling the city. I found myself following IH-10 north past Camp Bullis and Fair Oaks Ranch.

  Although I couldn’t be, I felt like I was gliding through cool air, the wind buffeting me. I circled above the lake, marveling at its perfect teardrop shape. Arthur Peterson might have been a man with evil intentions, but he had created a beautiful place in the Hill Country. The story was that he’d built the castle for his wife, but knowing what I know about the man now, I frankly doubted it. In my opinion the story was good PR. I think Arthur Peterson built this place for his own purposes and I wasn’t sure what those were. It had probably had pleased him, however, to be thought of as a romantic. Perhaps he wanted to be known as a legend in his own time: the man who single-handedly wiped out witchcraft and, while he was at it, vampires.

  I hovered over the castle for a few minutes, then lowered myself slowly to the third floor, not far from where the powwow with the witches had been held. This long and wide space was evidently the gym. A track ran around the outside of the room while machines of all sorts and sizes occupied the center.

  Only two people were there. One of them was Dan. The other was Janet, the thief.

  "You don't understand," Janet was saying. "She poses a hazard to you. She can harm you."


  "I don't agree."

  "She has power, Dan. Power she hasn't even realized she has. Hopefully, she never will. But if she exerts one tenth of her power toward you, the cloaking will disappear completely. You know what you’ve been experiencing is because of her.“

  He was working an arm machine. Her comment made him stop and study her.

  “That hasn’t been proven, Mother. Besides, no one person has that power.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Dan. Marcie does. Find another place for her to live, Dan. Get rid of her."

  "I can't do that, mother. She's a target and she needs protection."

  "She doesn't. She's the most powerful creature I've ever run across and she's still in her infancy. You have to get rid of her."

  Well, at least I didn't have to wonder about how Janet felt about me. Evidently, I scared the hell out of her.

  Janet advanced on the machine, stood directly in front of Dan, her hands on her hips.

  “I know you feel something for her, Dan, but is that wise? She’s a danger to you. She will only grow more powerful. She could reveal you to the world.”

  Dan smiled. “Don’t tell me that would make you unhappy, Mother. I know you better than that.”

  “You know how I felt about the cloaking. But it’s done and it can’t be undone.”

  He stood and moved to another machine. She followed him.

  I was conflicted. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation, but I was curious. What was a cloaking? How could I possibly exert my power over Dan, and what kind of powers did I have? What had I done to him? And, while we were at it, why had she taken my things?

  The minute I got some answers, I also got more questions. The problem was that the questions became more and more difficult, life altering, and dangerous.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I Am Goddess Hear Me Roar

  I came back to myself with a jerk at the sound of Charlie barking. He rarely barked and when he did it was because he was warning me. The sensation of returning to my body was like I’d put my mouth on a vacuum hose, the suction a thousand times more powerful.

  For a moment I stood there, disoriented. Charlie barked again, staring in the direction of the dressing room. I forced myself to turn and saw a shadow standing there.

  What the hell?

  I’d always thought that danger would come at me from vampires or a pissed off witch.

  This threat, however, was from a human.

  The shadow moved, which meant he was standing in front of the opaque window in the bathroom. How had he gotten into my suite? By way of the magical door? If so, that meant he was an employee at the castle. I would have thought that Dan vetted all his staff and that they’d be loyal.

  I summoned my aura, but it wasn’t showing up. Only a weak pale yellow colored light appeared at my feet. I tried again, but it was like the power just wasn’t there. I tried to gather up all my emotions, but the only thing I could feel was panic. In seconds, I was going to be confronted by someone who wanted to hurt me - what other reason was he in my room? Right now I had a brave dog and nothing else.

  Fear froze my thoughts. I didn't go into a fight or flight response. I went into stand-there-like-an-idiot mode.

  If I couldn’t conquer my fear, I was a sitting duck.

  I’d been afraid before, but I’d still acted. At Maddock’s house, instead of waiting for him to do whatever he’d wanted to do, I’d escaped. I’d confronted the witch hologram only feet from where I was standing. When Maddock had plastered himself against my window, I’d zapped him. In my gynecologist’s office, I’d been terrified, but I’d fought Maddock again.

  I had protected myself, and been filled with, if not courage, then certainly outrage. I needed to remember how that felt. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm. Whatever was in the bathroom, whoever was waiting to pounce on me was determined. I had to be the same. I couldn’t allow fear to take over.

  I raised my arms at my sides, fingers pointed to the floor. Slowly, I brought them up until my hands met over my head. The aura flowed freely with my movements, cloaking me in golden light. Charlie barked again and I stretched out my hand to encircle him until he was enclosed in the protection.

  I didn't know what my aura could do. I didn't know if it acted like a force field, or simply illuminated me. Would bullets bounce off of it? Would it protect me from a knife or a rocket launcher? Or was it simply a fancy light I could generate with a thought? Could I zap someone through it?

  I guess I was going to find out.

  A discreet black box with a keypad and a small red eye sat on the table by the chaise. A second intercom unit was beside the bed, plus there was a keypad on the wall beside the door. I’d never pressed the panic button located on the side of the intercom, but I sidled toward it now.

  When I moved, the aura moved with me, surrounding my hand as I leaned over and pushed the panic button. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I knew I’d just summoned the Army, Navy, Air Force, and probably the Coast Guard and National Guard. Hell, the Texas Rangers could be coming, too.

  I wish they would get here before my confrontation with the stranger, but I knew they wouldn’t. I was going to have to handle this on my own.

  I bent and put my hand on Charlie’s head. We hadn’t practiced all that much, but I was hoping he remembered some of his training right now.

  “Stay,” I whispered. I didn’t want Charlie involved in this. He might get hurt again. His safety was my responsibility.

  I took a few steps toward the dressing room. Who said that courage was feeling fear and acting regardless? I don’t know, but he was probably right. I was so afraid that I was cold inside, all the way from my neck to my knees.

  “Who’s there?”

  It lacked a little originality, I’ll grant you, but it got results.

  I honest to God didn’t expect the six foot six something or other guy dressed in black with a knitted cap on his head and a ski mask pulled over his face. He stepped out of my dressing room and stood there watching me.

  “A messenger.”

  Fear became this other entity inside of me, a living force that was breathing at five times my normal rate. Fear reached up from my bowels, grabbed my heart and shook it, all the while screaming, “Do you see that? Do you see him? He’s going to kill you! He’s the epitome of all your childhood nightmares, plus the gory news stories you’ve seen about women being gutted in their beds and run! Run! Run! Run! Run!”

  “You are an abomination in the eyes of God,” the stranger said, his voice a low growl.

  So tell me something I haven’t already heard.

  “You’re from one of those God hates non-humans groups, right? Maybe God’s not too fond of people who dress in black and trespass.”

  “Do you understand, Marcie Montgomery?” he asked, reaching for something on his waist.

  For the first time, I noticed the belt equipped with a knife sheaf and a pistol holder. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had an elephant gun strapped to his leg and maybe a grenade somewhere, all for little ol’ me.

  “Do you know my mother?”

  Instead of answering, he started reciting, probably Bible passages or ancient Hebrew recipes for all I know.

  Demi didn’t like getting up to take me to church. I went with my grandmother most of the time. When I got older, I attended the eleven o’clock service along with her. I read the Bible while the rest of the congregation listened to the sermon. I wasn’t that interested in the Bible, honestly, but the sermons were worse. I remembered a few of the Psalms because they sounded like poetry, and some of the first few books of the New Testament, but that’s about all.

  Nothing to counter the maniac pointing a gun at me.

  Oh, hell.

  I stretched out my hands, fingers pointing toward him, and zapped him a little in the nether region.

  He screamed and fell.

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t a teensy tiny zap. Maybe I should have ai
med for another place, like his feet. Or his mouth. He was still using the word “whore” repeatedly. I’m not all that keen about being called a whore, frankly.

  I went and stood over him, kicking the gun out of the way. Watching TV does equip you with some basic skills.

  “Shut up,” I said. “If you don’t want to get zapped again, you’ll shut up.”

  He didn’t.

  I zapped him once more, this time on the rump, since he was in a fetal position.

  I was going to keep him there until Dan and his men arrived. Maybe they could get something out of him other than threats that God was going to smite me from limb to limb, burn my entrails, and flail my flesh in ribbons.

  His God bore no resemblance to my God. My God was shaking his head at the stupidity of some people.

  Maybe if he’d started shooting before he started preaching, the outcome would have been different.

  Suddenly, I was in the middle of the Oklahoma Land Rush and being overrun by a stampede. Charlie started barking and I couldn’t blame him as we were surrounded by twenty paramilitary men, four of them grabbing the guy on the floor.

  He was hauled to his feet, but there was every possibility he was going to find himself on the floor again if they used any of the tasers I saw.

  Questions were shouted at him.

  “Who are you?”

  “How did you get in?”

  “Identify yourself!”

  The stocking cap came off, followed by the ski mask. His face was square, his nose broad, and his chin had a cleft. Hair the color of straw fell over his high forehead. I didn’t know him, but he didn’t seem to be the type to enter a stranger’s room armed to the teeth. Instead, he looked like an attorney or an accountant.

  He didn’t have any identification on him and he wasn’t offering any information, either.

  He glared at me, his look leaving little doubt how he felt. He wasn’t going to be my best friend any time soon. Had I hurt him? I allowed myself a few seconds of regret before someone grabbed me.

 

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