by Ashlyn Chase
“Yeah, I think so.” He pulled his face away from the airbag and searched for her hand. He grasped her wrist. It was ice cold and her pulse raced. “What the hell was that about?”
Michele, still hyperventilating, managed to say one word before she passed out.
“Snakes.”
After glancing at Michele and double-checking her pulse, he verified that she was still alive but out cold.
Groaning, he threw open the door, edged his way past the airbag, and stepped out.
An elderly couple occupied the car that struck his. He rubbed his neck. As he approached, he caught their wide-eyed expressions.
Be nice, Vic, he told himself when he reached the driver’s window. “Are you two all right?”
The gentleman spoke through the open window. “I’m not sure. Did you see something in the road?”
Vic hesitated. Did they see something in the road, or did they just notice he jammed on the brakes without a car or telephone pole in front of him? “Uh . . . did you?”
“Not sure,” said the man.
“I saw something,” his female passenger said. “Your car.”
The gentleman looked over and gave her a miniscule shake of his head.
“I’d guess we’d better exchange information for the insurance companies,” Vic said and sighed.
“All we have is liability,” said the woman. “Is your lady friend hurt?”
Vic glanced back at his own vehicle. Michele, visible through the back window, was rubbing her neck. “I’ll go ask her and get my insurance company’s address.”
He approached the passenger side and reached for his glove compartment. Under his breath, he asked, “What the hell was that about?”
“I—I saw snakes . . . slithering across the road. I’m sorry. I told you I was afraid of snakes.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
Michele rubbed her eyes. “Donovan must have done that, but only to me.”
Either that or my girlfriend/client is losing her shit and hallucinating.
* * * * *
An hour later all four of them were at the local emergency room for x-rays. Vic’s neck pain had escalated to the point where he winced when he touched it. The ER nurse called the names of the older couple. In a few minutes, she came for Michele. Why in God’s name did I insist on going last? His ability to plow through physical pain must have lessened with the years.
Before the nurse took him in, he noticed the elderly couple returning. They were being released. They didn’t seem to be hobbling or cringing in pain. Relief washed over him when the woman smiled. He’d be even more relieved to know if Michele had escaped injury. What was taking so long?
A nurse entered the waiting room and approached him. “Excuse me. Can you give me contact information for the young woman’s next of kin?”
Vic shot to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t mean to cause any alarm. It’s just that we need the information for our files—and she’s refusing to divulge it.”
Vic stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “Crap.”
“That’s what she said.” The nurse raised her eyebrows.
“Oh, good. Well at least I know she can speak. What else can you tell me?”
“Unless you’re family, not much.”
Rage boiled beneath the surface. Rage and fear. Vic gritted his teeth and tried to keep his emotions under control. “Look, if this is about insurance, I’ll pay for anything she needs.”
“Well, that’s good to know since she said she’s not covered, but we still need to know who her next of kin is—just in case.”
“Just in case, what? Look, you’d better tell me something, or I’ll push right past you and go see for myself.” He glared at her. “I doubt you could stop me.”
“She’s all right. Just a little more shaken up than most people are in her situation.”
Her situation. Had this woman ever seen anyone in Michele’s desperate situation?
“She’s very sensitive,” Vic said.
The woman didn’t move. “Her next of kin, please?”
Shit. Alex would flip out. Vic stood like a statue while he thought of any other angle he might use. “You should be asking her.”
“She refuses to tell us, and the doctor is keeping her for observation. If she might be missed, it would only be fair to her family to tell them where she is.”
Vic closed his eyes. Several seconds passed before he opened them and the nurse hadn’t budged.
“I’d like to see her. Maybe I can convince her to give you that information, but I won’t if she absolutely refuses. I’d rather respect her wishes than yours.”
“I’ll ask the physician,” she said, and stomped off.
Vic waited in agony—both physical and emotional. What’ll I do if the doctor won’t let me in? Damn. He had to see her, with permission or without. Wait. What if he said they were engaged? Would they allow a fiancé in? Would Michele spill the truth and they’d know he lied? Probably. Christ, my neck hurts.
As the minutes ticked by, Vic couldn’t help ruminating. Something was wrong. Why did they need to keep Michele for observation? And what the hell had happened to his neck? Was it badly re-injured?
How long would he have to sit here wondering?
He stood, braced himself, and prepared to barge in. At that moment the nurse reappeared and told him to follow her. Vic let out a deep breath. She led him into a tiny examining room where Michele sat on a gurney dressed in only a cotton johnnie with a light blanket across her lap.
A physician stood next to her, frowning.
“Is she okay?” he asked the doctor.
“Oh, physically, yes. But she’ll be sore for a few days due to whiplash.”
Vic went right to Michele and brought her hand to his lips. She seemed limp and groggy. “What’s wrong, baby?” He stroked her hair.
Michele directed her narrowed glare at the physician. “This doctor wants me to have a psychiatric evaluation.”
Vic straightened his painful neck and stared at the man. “A what? Why?”
“I’m afraid I can’t discuss it with you since you’re not next of kin. If she wants to tell you herself, she can.”
Michele spoke to the blanket covering her thighs. “Because I told the truth.”
Oh no. How much truth? Vic turned to the ER doctor and made sure Michele couldn’t see his face. He smiled apologetically. “May I speak with her alone, please?”
The doctor shrugged and said, “If you can make any sense out of what she’s saying, be my guest.” I could use an interpreter. He and the nurse left.
Vic whispered to Michele as if the staff might be eavesdropping. “What did you tell them, sweetheart?”
She heaved a sigh. “I told them about the snakes in the road, and that I screamed and passed out. When they wanted to know where the snakes came from, I told them that too.”
Vic rested a hand on his forehead and covered his eyes. “Oh, babe. Why did you do that? Is there something in your Rede about telling the truth, no matter what sort of crazy it looks like?”
“That’s not why I told them. They gave me something for the pain, and it made me loopy.”
“And that’s when they asked you what happened?”
She nodded and picked at the blanket. “A few minutes later. After I saw their reaction, I didn’t tell them anything else. I wouldn’t even give them Alex’s name.”
“Good. Now let’s get you out of here.” Vic glanced around the tiny space. “Where are your clothes?”
“Still in the x-ray changing room, I guess. That’s as far as I got before they brought me back here.”
“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Michele sat up and reached for him. “Don’t go. What if they come back and try to admit me?”
“Refuse to sign anything until I get back. They can’t admit you against your will. It’s false imprisonment. Now, don’t move.” Vic gave her a brief, gentl
e hug and a peck on the lips. “Oh, and don’t assault anybody, or they can commit you.”
Michele’s mouth dropped open. He gave her a wink and went off in search of the x-ray department.
* * * * *
Michele couldn’t just sit there waiting for the next set of idiotic circumstances to shake her. Remembering why she wanted to master magic and take charge of her fate in the first place, she shimmied off the gurney and stepped away.
“Okay, folks,” she muttered. “I think it’s time you forgot about us.”
Michele closed her eyes so she could concentrate. She sunk into a trance so deep she didn’t hear the monitors beeping, telephones ringing, or shoes clicking on the linoleum as people walked by.
Her inner vision connected to her third eye. She could project any image she imagined now. In her mind she visualized people walking right past her as if she didn’t exist. While she was at it, she included Vic in the picture with her. Michele’s eyes fluttered open. When she pulled the curtain aside, the double doors opened with a loud thump. Vic appeared in the hallway, holding her clothes. She smiled and sashayed toward him as if they were meeting at a quiet sidewalk cafe.
“What the hell is going on? Why does everyone look like they’re in a trance?
Michele kissed his jaw and peeled off the thin johnnie. “Just a little misdirection.”
She tossed the johnnie over the gurney’s rail. She was wearing only black lace panties.
Vic whirled around. No one was gawking at them.
“Don’t worry, lover. No one will be watching.” She captured her bust in the bra and fastened it. Then she stepped into her jeans and tossed her T-shirt over her head. “Time to go,” she said. “Oh, wait a minute.” She removed the papers from the clipboard that served as her ER chart and took them with her.
Vic walked beside her and glanced back over his shoulder several times. “How did you . . . No, don’t tell me. I’d rather not know.”
Michele reached for his hand. He hesitated, yet let her take it as they walked to the car.
* * * * *
Vic tried to hide his emotions. He had to admit he was a bit freaked out. He ran his fingers over the scratches and dent in his Volvo’s bumper. Right after the accident, Vic had called his mechanic buddies who’d towed the car and fixed the airbags, while the ambulance took Vic and Michele to the hospital. His friends dropped off Vic’s car at the hospital with the promise that he would bring it in soon to get a thorough check-up.
As Vic continued to survey his car for damages, Michele checked the packaged contents stored in the trunk from the psychic fair the day before.
She reached into the box marked “fragile” and unwrapped one of the ceramic statues.
“Oh, thank the Goddess. This one’s not broken. It cost a small fortune.” She pulled out another and checked it. Not a scratch. She continued on until she had made sure every last crystal candlestick and scrying mirror was in perfect condition.
After she had rewrapped and packed away all of the treasures, she said, “It looks like everything made it through all right. How are you feeling by the way?”
“Could be worse,” he said and rubbed his throbbing neck. Not by much, though. How the hell did she pull off that disappearing stunt?
Vic jogged around to his own side and jumped in. He’d have to think about this for a while. “Where to, m’lady?”
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“What are you talking about? I just said something.”
“I mean about the way we got out of there.”
“Oh, that.” He started the engine and pulled out of the parking space. He stopped before exiting the hospital parking lot. “I guess you’ll tell me if you really want me to know.”
“I think I should, but if you can’t handle it . . .”
Vic’s curiosity and pain intensified as he thought about it. “No, go ahead and tell me. I’ll be a patient listener this time.”
“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and let it out as if relieved, or maybe she was trying to figure out what to tell him. “Let’s go to the shop from here so I can unpack these things and stop worrying about them. I’ll tell you more about it on the way there.”
Vic nodded and headed toward The Enchanted Broom.
She was quiet for a few seconds and then started to explain. Her voice took on a serious tone. “Well, I’ve been studying and practicing the craft for a long time. Like any artist who wants to develop their craft, their mastery grows with knowledge and practice.”
“Uh huh.”
“So, by now I’m pretty good at it.”
“I don’t doubt that—anymore.”
“Good. But I’m afraid there’s a little more to it.”
Uh-oh.
“I’m also part fey.”
He pondered what that meant. “I don’t understand. Was your mother’s name Fay? Was she a witch too?”
“No.” She sighed. “Sometimes I forget to explain things thoroughly.”
“To the Neanderthal . . .” He added as he took a sharp corner, expertly.
“You’re not a Neanderthal. It’s just that up until now, you’ve had no exposure to the magical world.”
“None whatsoever.”
“Okay. So I’ll explain, but you may have to stretch that open-mind even wider.”
Oh, great. Something fantastical is coming.
He stayed quiet as she began her explanation. “There are magical creatures in this world. You may have heard of some, and you may not have heard of others. Fairies, for instance. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
He glanced at her. She wasn’t smirking. “You’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious. I’m being perfectly serious right now. Are you having a hard time keeping an open mind?”
What could he say? “I—I’m trying. Please, keep talking.”
“Fairies are real. They aren’t tiny people with wings, like Tinkerbelle . . . well, some are. But you can’t see them—most of the time. And when you can, they appear as specs of light.”
He kept silent, as hard as it was not to laugh. Vic had to let that settle over him for a while. Maybe Michele did too. They rode on in silence until he hit a small pothole that caused him to wince.
“Backing up a little, anyone born with magical blood can be called Fey. It’s spelled with an e, not an a. I was told that my biological father was probably one of the fairies that walk among us. They look perfectly normal, but they have powers the rest of us don’t have.”
“How do you know who is who?”
“You don’t. But they’re rare. You may have never met one. Even if you have, they rarely let anyone know what they can do.”
“And, I’m guessing you’re about to tell me that one or more of your parents were fairies.” I know a few athletes who referred to their fathers that way. I thought they meant it as a derogatory remark.
“Yes. That would be my father. He was with my mother until they had sex, and then he disappeared.”
“Oh, honey. I’m afraid some guys are like that. It has something to do with the thrill of the chase being over when the prize is caught.”
“No. I don’t mean he walked out and didn’t come back. I mean he literally disappeared—in front of my mother’s eyes.”
“Wow. Was she . . .” Oh god. How do I ask this? He rubbed his forehead. “Don’t be offended, please, but was your mother stable?”
Michele frowned, but she didn’t turn away. “Yes. She was emotionally and mentally stable. I swear.”
“Okay. So why did he leave? Do you think he knew he got her pregnant?”
“Maybe.” Michele was quiet while Vic drove over the bridge that linked the beach to the downtown area. “If I believed in fate, which I do, I’d say that maybe I wasn’t a mistake.”
“Ah! So maybe he was on a mission. To create you—or procreate you. Do you know what that would mean you have?”
“Ah, no. What?”
“Designer genes
.”
She reached over and gave his shoulder a shove. But at least she was smiling.
“So, following that up. I guess you’re able to do more than just witch magic?”
“I honestly don’t know. It’s hard to tell what’s regular magic and what’s fey magic. I just know I have an affinity for certain things.”
“Like?”
“Like finding magical objects.”
“So, the stuff in the trunk is full of some kind of fey magic?”
“No. It would be wrong to give a magical object to an unsuspecting person. They could use it improperly, without even knowing it.”
“Okay. What other things can you do?”
“Well, invisibility seemed to come fairly easy to me. Most witches have to practice that for years.”
Vic nodded and tried to accept what she was saying. It was a lot to swallow. He made a right turn and decided to just go with it. After all, he didn’t know everything. “I believe you.”
She smiled “Good. Now you know what I can do, it’s almost as important as knowing what I can’t do.”
“Hurting others? For ethical reasons?”
“Exactly,” she said. “So do you believe in me now?”
Vic scrutinized her. The look on her face was expectant, maybe anxious. He had to say something, but what could he say? He cleared his throat and thought he’d better use the opportunity to ask a question or two.”
“Yes, but you’re asking a lot of me. I’ve seen some strange things lately. Some things I thought had perfectly reasonable explanations, but just now . . .”
“What about just now?”
“Ordinarily I’d think up some kind of explanation for why we were able to walk out of a busy hospital unnoticed, but you stood there practically naked with people all around, and no one even raised an eyebrow.”
She nodded. “That’s why I did it. I don’t use magic if I don’t need to. I finally needed it, and I could show you some proof that I knew what I was doing. I’ve grown beyond wand waving and chanting. I can usually accomplish what I need in an emergency without all the props.”
“So why all the candles and herbs and incense?”