A Psychic with Catitude

by P. D. Workman

He and Jessup walked with Callie between them, forming a protective phalanx. Reg and Starlight followed behind. Reg wished she could pick Starlight up, but didn’t think the cat would appreciate it, particularly not in the shadow state Reg was in. She didn’t want to zap him or light his fur on fire.

  “What kind of club is this?” Jessup asked.

  Corvin looked over at her.

  “You said this was a club we’re going to. It’s not exactly the right time of day for dinner and dancing, so I’m wondering what kind of a club it is.”

  “It’s…” Corvin’s eyebrows went up as he considered the question. No doubt trying to look enigmatic. He rubbed his short beard. “An exclusive club,” he said. “They’re open all hours; no need to worry about that.”

  “An exclusive club for what? Golf? Billiards? Exotic girls?”

  Corvin licked his lips. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that. It all depends what the members are looking for.”

  Reg’s stomach was tight. She was suddenly glad she was still invisible. She was glad if they were going into some sort of den of iniquity that no one would be able to say they had seen her there.

  There is no right or wrong, she’d heard from a number of the practitioners in Black Sands. Reg herself didn’t have the same values as the stricter members of society. But she still held to some of humanity’s taboos and didn’t think that a club that was a free-for-all for members to satisfy their every desire was a good idea. There should still be limits. Especially on people like Corvin, who had so much power. If he were allowed to do whatever he pleased… Reg gave a shudder. Someone had to put limits on him.

  Corvin turned and looked toward Reg, and even though she knew he couldn’t see anything more than a faint shadow where she stood, if anything at all, she could have sworn that he read her expression and met her eyes. She looked away. He could have his exclusive club, as long as it kept him away from her.

  He had said that the club was nearby, and perhaps it was when driving a car, but on foot it was a good deal farther away than Reg felt like walking. They were all footsore and weary when they reached Corvin’s little piece of paradise.

  The building that he turned in at gave no clue as to what lay within its walls. There was no club name on the outside. There were no lineups outside, no gaudy neon lights to draw the eye. To know what went on there, visitors would have to have been told ahead of time.

  “Here?” Jessup asked, looking surprised.

  Corvin gave her a smile. “Not somewhere that was on your radar?”

  “No. Not at all, in fact. So what kind of delicacies does your little gentleman’s club offer?”

  “Whatever the clientele desires. You’d have to talk to the management to get any details. I’m sure I couldn’t tell you anything.”

  Jessup snorted. “Right.”

  Corvin tapped on the door. No electric doorbell. They stood there for a few minutes. Reg was anxious for him to knock louder or to have Jessup pound on it like the cops always did, but then the handle turned and the door opened.

  “Mr. Hunter,” a tall woman in a red dress greeted him, “how nice to see you again. And you brought company…” Her eyes flicked over Jessup and Callie. “Welcome. No car to be parked today, Mr. Hunter?”

  “No, that’s part of my problem.”

  She ushered them in without demanding any more details or to see anyone’s identification. They went through a few rooms draped in velvet and other expensive ornamentation. The pile of the carpet felt about an inch deep, each step Reg took sank down into it. They were led to a room that might have been called a parlor, with several chairs and couches in close proximity for chatting as a group in comfort. The woman motioned to the furniture.

  “Please have a seat. Your hostess will be with you in a few moments.”

  ⋆ Chapter Thirty ⋆

  R

  eg watched the tall woman walk away. Her red dress was cut so low behind that it was practically backless. Corvin was also watching her retreat, but with a different expression from Reg’s.

  “Your hostess?” Jessup repeated. “Is that what you’re calling her?”

  “What would you call her?” Corvin asked innocently. But he had a wicked twinkle in his eye.

  Reg didn’t sit down. She watched the others sit, getting comfortable in the thickly padded upholstery. Starlight sat back on his haunches directly in front of Reg, as if he were a palace guard protecting the queen.

  It was only a few minutes before a younger woman entered. She didn’t look much older than Calliopia.

  “Corvin,” she greeted with a smile of pleasure that seemed genuine. “It has been too long! What can I get you today?” She looked around at the other visitors. “Drinks? Entertainment? What can I do for you?”

  “We need a car,” Jessup said flatly. “Preferably one with gas in the tank and that hasn’t had the ignition punched. I think that should be about all that we really need you for today.”

  If the young woman was surprised, she didn’t let it show.

  “I’m sure that can be arranged. Are you sure there isn’t anything else?” She gave Corvin a playful pout. “You must let me do something for you. I get paid by the service, and just the provision of a vehicle… you’ll make me a pauper, Corvin.”

  Jessup scowled about the woman ignoring her and speaking to Corvin when Jessup was the one who had taken charge of their order.

  Corvin responded to the young woman’s flirtatious manner, smiling at her, his cheeks flushing. “Perhaps we could come to an arrangement.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it. Maybe you and I could retire to another room…?”

  Corvin stood up.

  “You’re not leaving us all here,” Jessup snapped, “while you go off on some assignation with this—”

  “You’re perfectly safe here,” Corvin said, cutting her off as he took the young hostess by the hand. “As long as you stay here while arrangements are being made for transportation. I promise I won’t be long.”

  With that, he left them to themselves in the luxuriant room.

  “You care for him?” Callie asked Jessup.

  “Care for Corvin Hunter?” Jessup snapped. “No, of course not! He’s an occasional police consultant, and not, I’m coming to think, a very reliable one! There is nothing personal between us.”

  “Oh.” Calliopia nodded at this slowly. “Humans are so hard to read.”

  “It’s alright,” Jessup brushed it off. “You’re not doing so badly.” She looked at her watch. “Once we get out of here safely, we can take you home.”

  “My parents will be tired of waiting for me.”

  “I don’t think so. They’ll be so happy to see you. So happy that you got away from the pixies and are safe.”

  Callie nodded, her eyes distant. Reg wanted to talk to her to ask her about the life that would be waiting for her when she got home. She hoped that she wouldn’t be hidden away and smothered by overprotective parents who felt guilty for allowing her to be stolen away in the first place. They wouldn’t want her to see any boys, not without thoroughly vetting them first, fearful that another Ruan might be lurking beneath an otherwise pleasant exterior. They wouldn’t want her to go out anywhere alone, or be late, maybe even to go to school.

  It wouldn’t be an easy life for her. And if fairies were emotionally affected like humans were by trauma, it could be that much harder. Fear, guilt, anger… Callie had been through a lot while she’d been held by the pixies.

  She’d fought back the best she could, but in the end it hadn’t been enough. She had needed the police to step in and rescue her. And could the pixies even be charged for what they had done? For taking back a child that was theirs by birth?

  Reg rubbed her head. Shadow world or no, she had a real headache.

  Her hand was, of course, bleeding. Reg assumed that her blood would also be invisible and would not stain the carpet or the furniture in the room, but she still didn’t like to leave it bleeding and uncovered. With no
one to watch her, she tore a strip from her shirt and wadded it up over the wound, pressing tightly to staunch the bleeding. Starlight stared at her and yowled.

  Everyone in the room looked at him. “What’s wrong?” Callie asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he can see Reg. Is everything okay, Star?”

  Starlight looked around the room, most notable in the absence of Corvin, and made a snorting sound as if to say it was all his fault.

  “I know,” Jessup agreed. “I don’t like it either. He brings us here to help… and then he takes off with the first pretty face…”

  “Second,” Callie corrected.

  “What?”

  “Second pretty face.”

  “Well, yes, I guess so. The point is, he’s supposed to be here, helping us, and he’s off pursuing his own… appetites. It’s disgusting.”

  Calliopia got up from the couch and wandered around the room, looking over the fine decorations with a scowl.

  “She said there were drinks. Where do you think they are?”

  “There probably isn’t anything in here. We have to order what we want.”

  Callie pulled on a cord that Reg had assumed was a curtain cord, but no curtain opened. There was no effect that Reg could discern. But in a few moments, the door opened again, and the woman in the red dress entered. She raised her eyebrows. “How may I serve you?”

  “Drinks,” Calliopia said imperiously.

  The woman bowed her head. “Of course. What can I get you?”

  “Milk.” Calliopia considered for a moment. “And mead.”

  “Certainly. And the others…?” The woman looked at Jessup, then at Starlight, then considered the space that Reg currently occupied.

  “Milk for the cat,” Callie said. She looked at Jessup.

  “I’m on duty, so… a Coke?” Jessup suggested.

  The woman gave another nod, and retreated.

  “Sorry,” Jessup said in Reg’s direction. “I don’t even know if you can eat in your… beetle form.”

  Reg considered herself. She didn’t have any idea whether she could eat or drink in her current situation. She wasn’t hungry or thirsty, so maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe she was in a sort of limbo and wouldn’t need anything until she was visible again.

  Starlight began washing.

  ⋆ Chapter Thirty-One ⋆

  S

  he watched the others with their drinks, waiting for Corvin’s return. It seemed like it was taking forever. All they needed was to borrow a car for a few minutes.

  Callie was apparently very thirsty, gulping down both her milk and her mead and ringing for another round. If Reg was right and she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since she had been kidnapped, then fairy or not, she badly needed fluids, especially after their long walk.

  “How long will the warlock be?” Callie asked, setting her second milk glass aside.

  “I don’t know. I thought he would be back by now. Guess maybe he’s having too much fun.”

  “We could get the car and go without him.”

  “Yes… or I could get a phone and call for a police unit to back us up, but then I’d have to explain where my car is and how I managed to end up all the way over here without any way of getting back… I’d rather they thought I had something in my head besides rocks.”

  “Then we shall get a car.”

  Callie got up again and pulled the bell cord. In a few minutes, the door opened, and this time it was a man, dressed in a well-tailored black suit with red tie and pocket square. He smiled at Calliopia, who was standing with her arms folded, looking cross.

  “What can I do for you ladies?”

  “We would like a car.”

  He studied Callie for a moment. “I suspect you are not even old enough to drive one. At any rate, we do have a car ready for your group, once Mr. Hunter has finished his business.”

  “How about you get us two cars, and we’ll take one and Hunter can take one,” Jessup suggested. “We can get to where we’re going and he can take whatever time he needs. We both win.”

  The man’s smile did not dim, but he pursed his lips and made a calming gesture with his hands. “I am not authorized to arrange for another car for your group. I’m sure Mr. Hunter won’t be much longer.”

  “I thought the idea was that we could have whatever we want,” Jessup challenged.

  “You are not the member. Mr. Hunter is.”

  Jessup rolled her eyes at Callie and slumped back in her seat. She could identify herself as a police detective and insist that they help her or she could call her colleagues for an assist, but she still didn’t appear to be ready to expose herself to the attention of her superiors.

  The man gave a little bow. “Would there be anything else?”

  “More milk,” Callie gestured to her empty glass.

  “Of course.”

  He took the empty glasses and left to get refills.

  “We will go,” Callie said. “The car is waiting. We will just take it. Go to my home, and then you can come back here and pick up the warlock.”

  “I don’t know if they’ll—”

  Calliopia was already headed for the door, her movements swift and graceful. She seemed to be growing in front of their eyes. Reg was sure that either Callie was taller, or she herself was shorter. Did things become smaller in the world of shades? Calliopia wasn’t about to wait around any longer. She opened the door and headed out the way they had been escorted in. Jessup hurried after her, not about to let her missing person disappear again. Reg and Starlight followed the two of them.

  Calliopia was faced with three men coming the other direction without any staff escort in evidence. She stepped impatiently to the side to allow them to pass her so she could get outside. But the men didn’t pass, they continued to block her way.

  “Here’s a pretty little fairy,” an obese man said, eyes on Callie.

  Reg swallowed. She could see the whole scene play out in front of her. She had seen it so many times before; different times and places, different men, but the same scene. She closed in on them, not sure what she was going to do, but determined to stop them before they could do anything to harm Calliopia.

  But his words made Reg look back at Callie. A pretty little fairy? Even Jessup had admitted that for a fairy, Calliopia was particularly plain. But that had changed. Reg couldn’t identify any one thing that had changed in Callie’s appearance, but she had transformed from plain and unattractive to a simple beauty. Despite a week’s incarceration in a pixie’s cell, her brown hair shone with health. Her paleness was the bluish cast of her fairy parents’ rather than the pastiness of the pixies, living for generations underground. Her pale blue eyes were lively.

  “Keep going,” Jessup told Callie. “Let us through, gentlemen.”

  “Human, but not a bad-looking one,” the tallest of the men observed, looking down at Jessup. “I think I’m up for a little entertainment, how about you?” he said to his cohorts.

  “I am a police detective,” Jessup said tightly. “If you think you can get away with harassing me, you’d better think again.”

  “You really can get anything you want at a club like this,” the fat man chuckled. “Even police detectives. You want to show me your handcuffs, sweetheart? Maybe even your gun?”

  He reached out and grabbed Calliopia by the arm rather than Jessup, pulling her close to him. “Young fairies… you don’t see a lot of these around. They’re a rare breed, you know.”

  “Leave her alone!” Jessup warned, but the two other men were ready and were able to grab her before she could reach her handcuffs, gun, or any other deterrent.

  “Release me,” Calliopia commanded, giving an imperious little shake that was intended to demonstrate to the man what she wanted. “I am going home.”

  “I don’t think so, actually.”

  Callie pulled her arm back. When he didn’t release her, she looked at Jessup.

  “Where is my dagger?”

  “It’s
in my—”

  “Do you actually think we would let one of you put your hands on a blade?” one of the men holding Jessup laughed. “Even a little thing like you could do damage with cold steel. But unarmed…” he gave her arm a squeeze and bumped her with his hip. “Unarmed, I think I can manage.”

  Reg forced her hand closer, until she was able to reach through the buzzing magical field to touch the man’s arm, which she did. She had seen that even just skin-to-skin contact between someone on the physical world and someone in the shadow world caused pain, and the fairy-tainted blood still leaking from Reg’s wound wasn’t likely to improve things. She was braced for the electrical shock she would receive, but it still took her breath away, and every cell in her body told her to let go immediately.

  The tall man had no warning what was going to happen. He howled in pain, letting go of Jessup to grab at his arm. Jessup pulled her sidearm and pointed it at one of the men who had been holding her. Both of them had let go and were staring in horror at their companion, who had released Calliopia and was writhing in pain.

  Holding on to him hurt Reg too, so once her friends were out of immediate danger, she let go of the man.

  He collapsed, leaning against the wall. He gasped for breath, holding on to his arm and looking down to it. The fairy blood meant that the man’s arm was not just red like Jessup’s and Corvin’s hands, but blistered and obviously very painful.

  “Serves you right,” Reg told him, though she knew he probably couldn’t hear her.

  “Thank you, Reg!” Jessup declared. “Enough is enough. We have a job to do. We’re taking Calliopia home. No more waiting. No more roadblocks.”

  They had attracted attention. Other patrons were looking in through the doorways, a couple of the hostesses of the club drew close, and Corvin appeared, the young hostess on his arm looking star struck.

  “We’re leaving,” Jessup repeated.

  “What are you doing?” Corvin demanded. “Why didn’t you stay in the room and wait for me?”

  “You take off and we have no idea how long you’re going to be. My job is to get Calliopia home. I’m not sitting around some club waiting for you to… satisfy yourself. It’s time to go. Are you with us or not?”