At first, we worried this would be too risky. What would happen if a bunch of people showed up to a fake set? After all, this was a lure. We didn’t want anybody showing up. But then we realized, it was easily handled…
“If that’s you,” Liz pointed a perfectly manicured hand at the camera, “then head to our website, click on the link, and email the production your interest. They’ll send the location to the first people to reply. Spots are limited,” she warned viewers. What nobody watching (except us, of course) knew was that when they clicked on the link, they’d be sadly informed that all the spots for the evening’s filming were filled. Too bad, so sad. But exactly according to our plan. Liz turned to face another camera, her short, curly brown hair gently swinging. “Interested in animal welfare,” she began, and Jackson pressed the mute button.
“And there it is. Our invitation to the replacement killer to come and get us,” Jackson said quietly.
At the word killer, my heart rate jumped erratically. “Do you think it’ll work?”
“It was your plan,” he reminded me. “Don’t you think it will work?”
I did. The replacement killer knew Jackson and I were together, and that Jackson was working the movie. We hoped that after frustrating the replacement killer all day by hiding out, he or she would jump at the chance to nail us on set.
“One potential flaw in setting up the plan is if the replacement killer doesn’t hear about filming tonight,” I voiced my concern.
“Didn’t Mia say Liz promised to blast the background actor invitation all over social media once the show wrapped?”
“She did.” My bouncing leg slowed.
“Wouldn’t that then practically guarantee the replacement killer would hear about the filming tonight?”
“Yes, it would.” I took a deep breath. “I’m also still concerned about the killer knowing where we’ll be.”
“Weren’t you also the one that said when the replacement killer knows there’s filming but not the location, he or she would just wait for us to leave? And then follow us?”
I tilted my head back, contemplating the ceiling. “Yes. I said those things too.”
“Then aren’t we okay?”
“Yes, we are.” I met his gaze. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome.” Jackson took a sip of his coffee. “Tonight’s the final night before Barbara’s deadline, and possibly the last chance for the replacement killer to strike. He or she will wait for us to leave and follow us to set. It’ll work.”
I nodded. “Yes.” It had to.
*****
When Entertainment Daily concluded, Liz was true to her word. Jackson and I popped on our laptops to confirm that word of the filming was all over social media. Now the waiting would begin. We didn’t plan to arrive on set until just after the sun set around 5 p.m. That left about six hours to kill, I mean, to wait.
“What do you want to do while we wait?”
Jackson asked the question innocently, but man did my body respond not-so-innocently. “Play a board game?” I responded.
He gave me a knowing smile but didn’t comment. “Let me show you what I have.”
I’d like to see what you have, my traitorous mind whispered. I ignored it and followed him to a hutch in the dining area filled with board games. That successfully distracted me.
“These are all the games I have. Are any of these speaking to you?”
“How about Ticket to Ride Europe?” I’d never played the game, but it looked interesting.
“Great choice,” Jackson enthused. “It’s a strategy game where the person who builds the most railway wins.” He pulled the game out of the hutch and we set up on the kitchen table, Buster in his primary location at our feet.
And thus, the day went by… playing games, chit chatting, watching the noon news. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as the declining sun through the window blinds informed me it was almost time. By that point, we were back sitting on the couch, watching one of those judge shows on television.
“How are you feeling?” Jackson asked, taking one of my hands in his.
I squeezed his fingers. “Nervous,” I admitted.
“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
“Are you?”
“Nervous? Yes. I would hate if something happened to you.” He rubbed my fingers, the sensations sending warmth through my body.
“Same here,” I said thickly.
“You would hate if something happened to you?” he asked.
A glance in his direction showed him smirking. “Yes, I would,” I responded with a wink. “But I’d also hate if something happened to you.”
“It won’t.”
“You promise?”
“I do.”
Feeling more secure, but still acutely aware of that swarm of butterflies in my belly, I stood. “It’s time.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
In order to have a fairly isolated set, we chose an abandoned house in Boulder City, about an hour from Jackson’s house, just outside metro Las Vegas. This was our attempt to keep damage to a minimum, in case everything went sideways. We listened to the local classic rock station, 97.1 The Point, as we trekked across the city. The music wasn’t quite the distraction I’d hoped for, but it kept my leg bouncing to a minimum.
We pulled into the driveway of a sprawling one-story home right on the edge of the desert. This definitely fit the bill for isolated! A handful of cars were already parked in the driveway and along the street.
Given the distance we had to drive, I assumed that meant we were the last to arrive. That was okay; it meant everybody would be more likely to be ready when the replacement killer struck. We couldn’t block off the street, secluded though it was, and so Jacob positioned police at the homes on each end. We expected everything to go down fast. I doubted they’d have much of a chance to do anything. But they could act as an early warning system if any cars drove down the street.
Since we didn’t know when the replacement killer would strike, we needed to pretend to film. Even so, my jaw dropped when Jackson pulled open the large wooden front door.
It looked like a genuine film set. Evie and Ryan, two of the actors in our group, stood in an empty living room holding sheets of paper. I idly wondered if they brought past scripts with them or if those were blank pages.
A standard three-point lighting set-up surrounded the actors. Someone had positioned the key light, or primary light, behind Evie and Ryan. I smothered a laugh; the dramatic lighting that position provided seemed fitting for this evening’s activities. A fill light, to illuminate unwanted shadows, was positioned next to the camera, a nicer-than-expected Canon EOS C300 Mark II (though still only half the cost of a $20,000 RED 8K camera… but I digressed). And, finally, the backlight, an ARRI 150, I thought, was positioned behind and above the actors.
Catherine stood behind the camera, fiddling with it. Did she know anything about them or was she completely pretending?
I shook my head. It was so real – and yet so fake.
Mia and her homicide detective boyfriend, Jacob, stood off to the side of the tableau, pretending to refer to a clipboard of paper.
Alex, Catherine’s half-incubus boyfriend, stood on the other side of the room. He was the only one that drew attention; he seemed to be standing guard, which he was.
“Hey, everyone. Are we ready to shoot this thing?” Jackson asked jovially.
A chorus of hellos returned the greeting. I saw worry reflected in several sets of eyes. We would have to pretend to film until Jackson sensed the energy change that heralded the replacement killer’s arrival. And then we would have a small window to launch our offensive defense. I didn’t know if that was a thing, but it fit what I felt we were doing. We set everything up but we would only respond when the replacement killer launched a volley, so to speak.
*****
Three hours later, we’d run out of fake filming to do and b
oredom had set in. I hoped this wouldn’t be a bust. Then what would we do? The deadline was tomorrow. Who knew what Barbara would do if Jackson wasn’t dead? I was on the fence over whether or not she’d care if I was dead.
Jacob pulled his phone from his pocket in response to a text notification. “Another car pulled onto the street,” he informed us in a low voice. This was the third car in three hours. The first time we had gone on high alert. And nothing happened. The second time we had gone on high alert. And nothing happened. This time I felt the tension rise, but nobody moved. A fence surrounded the perimeter of the property and we’d locked all the doors to the house. We hoped this would corral our killer to the front, and keep him or her on the street.
Jacob continued to watch his phone. “The car parked one house over.”
Alex rolled onto the balls of his feet. He clenched and unclenched his hands.
Minutes passed with no update.
“Car door is opening,” Jacob murmured.
Evie and Ryan set their script pages on the floor. Evie faced the front door and Ryan faced the window to their side.
“Someone in a hooded cape has exited the car.”
“How cliché,” I muttered with an eye roll. Catherine half-snorted in response.
Everyone stood at alert.
“The individual has stopped in front of the house. Unable to tell if male or female. They remain in the street.”
Jackson held his hands out in front of him like he was calling for an amen from the congregation.
We waited with bated breath.
“It’s time!” Jackson flung the front door open.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“You don’t have to do this,” Jackson implored the figure standing in the street. We formed a loose group behind Jackson at the front door. Watching. Waiting.
“Yes, I do,” the figure responded. I felt the startled reactions around me. The voice was decidedly feminine. A female replacement killer. Why was I not surprised? Guess Barbara was into equal opportunity.
“No, you don’t,” Jackson disagreed. Tension rolled off of him, but his voice remained calm.
“I signed a contract. If I don’t fulfill it, I don’t get paid.” The female witch raised her hands. “I intend to finish the job.”
At those words, Jackson raced outside, the rest of us following behind. He stopped about twenty feet from the killer. Even in the dark, at this distance, I could see the woman’s features. She appeared mid-twenties, her eyes weirdly lit. Oh, wait, they just reflected the light pouring from the open door of our fake set.
Jackson raised his arms in front of him to match hers. This was looking like a high noon duel. You know, if they happened at night between two witches. I shook my head at the crazy thought. Those anxious butterflies from before seemed caught in a maelstrom in my stomach.
“I’ve never not finished a contract,” the female witch continued. “The two of you will end up dead before the sun rises.” She dropped her hands for a moment. “And any of you who get in my way,” she added.
“Her energy is building,” Jackson yelled as the female witch raised her hands above her head. “Mia! You’re up.”
Mia stepped in front of Jackson, her green hair flowing down her back and lifting slightly in the breeze. “None of this is necessary, is it? Everyone can walk away tonight, unharmed.” Her melodious magical voice washed over all of us.
She was right. There was no reason for any of this unpleasantness. The female witch lowered her arms. I breathed a sigh of relief that everything would be okay.
Mia faced us, breaking the spell. “Evie!”
I had a moment to remember that Mia had warned us that we would be bewitched along with the replacement killer.
And she couldn’t do it for long because it could interfere with the rest of the plan.
The female witch immediately raised her hands. Several large boulders from the yard around us rose with them. Sweat beaded on my forehead.
Evie stepped forward. The female witch’s arms ceased moving. The boulders hung suspended in the air. Evie did it! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. The vampire stopped time. She excluded our small bubble of people of course. “Jacob, you’re up.”
Jacob took several steps toward the female witch. I hugged myself in delight. It was going to work! Jacob would get the cuffs on the female witch while she stood frozen in time. When he was still five feet away, the witch’s hands trembled.
“She’s breaking free! I can’t hold all of this much longer! Times’s going to restart!” Evie shouted. “Jacob, grab her quickly! Jackson, the force field!”
Each of Evie’s shouts rocked me. No, no, no. This couldn’t happen. The plan would work.
I reached out both hands, uncertain how I could help keep the plan from failing. My fingers began to tingle and energy raced along my skin. I shook my arms as though the pins and needles feeling was caused by them falling asleep. I didn’t know what was happening, but something was building and itching for release.
A vague memory from my teenage years surfaced, and I knew.
I remembered what happened with my parents.
“Jacob, get back! I can handle this.” I felt the eyes of the others on me. Time fully restarted and the female witch prepared to hurl the boulders at our group.
Energy crackled off of me, around me. My fingers lit up with blue electricity. The wind howled, almost like a cyclone. Distracted, the witch dropped the boulders and stared. I met her eyes and smiled grimly.
A lightning bolt sizzled out of the sky, striking the female witch. She crumpled to the ground. A scent of ozone permeated the air.
Jacob raced forward to check the unmoving witch’s pulse. He looked back at the group and shook his head.
I dropped my hands in shock. The witch was dead. The immediate danger had passed. We would still need to handle Barbara. But a bigger question loomed. I knew it and as the eyes of the group fell upon me again, they knew it.
What had just happened? My magic was back. How was that possible?
A tentative hand touched my shoulder from behind. I sensed it was Jackson before he spoke. “Are you okay?” That one question held volumes of unasked questions. I turned to face him, to face the others.
“I think so,” I whispered.
My phone trilled an incoming call. Out of habit, I answered. “Hi, Jessica,” I greeted her, nary a tremor in my voice.
“What happened?” She echoed my earlier internal question. “We sensed a huge display of magic outside of town.”
“It’s over,” I told her, a bone-deep weariness settling over me. “The replacement killer is dead.”
“Come to the Council. Now,” Jessica demanded.
I glanced around at Catherine, Evie, Ryan, Mia, Jacob, Alex, and Jackson. Looking for permission? I didn’t even know. My mind swirled.
“Go. We’ll take care of everything here,” Catherine assured me, having heard Jessica’s directive. Jacob nodded. If local law enforcement said it was okay… I guessed it was.
“Come with me?” I asked Jackson.
“Of course.”
He propped me up, and I shuffled beside him to his truck. He helped me into the front passenger seat. A wave of exhaustion washed over me; maybe a quick cat nap during the drive would be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Warm breath in my ear woke me from my restless sleep. “We’re here, Robin. Time to talk to Jessica and the Witches Council.”
At the phrase, I bolted upright in the seat and trained wide eyes on Jackson. “I hope they have some answers.”
“I’m sure they will,” he responded while lifting me out of the truck and setting me gently on the ground. His face held an inscrutable expression.
There were lots of questions there, I knew. He supported me as we walked up the short sidewalk to the squat industrial building housing the Council chamber. Soon we stood before the five council members
seated behind the half-circle table. I had trouble meeting their gazes. Instead, my eyes wandered over the silvery wallpaper reflecting the light from the antique wall sconces. I stood rigidly in front of my chair.
“You are a witch,” Theresa began. A statement, not a question. She had replaced her red lipstick with bright purple today.
“Yes.”
“Please tell us what happened in Boulder City,” Matt, the older gentleman requested.
With only a few verbal stumbles, I relayed what had happened earlier that evening with the replacement killer. A few eyebrows rose when I revealed the witch was female, but otherwise, the Council remained silent until I finished.
“How were you able to summon the lightning bolt?” Marcie, the young woman who still struck me as barely out of her teens, but surely was older, asked the question. I heard genuine curiosity and wondered if Jessica had told the Council about my bound magic.
I glanced at Jackson. Now was a moment of truth. He knew I had hidden my witch status from him. Time to lay all my cards on the table, as they said. “I discovered I had abilities after puberty. I’m not sure what to call them, but I discovered I could—” I hesitated, uncertain how to describe my skills. “—control the weather? I guess that’s the best way to explain it.”
“Elemental powers, then?” Evan, the tall, heavyset witch asked.
“I suppose so. But my parents didn’t understand what was happening any more than I did.” My voice choked with the mention of my parents.
“They weren’t witches?” Marcie appeared surprised.
“Not as far as I know.” I swallowed. “I think they were afraid of me.” Tears filled my eyes. “They should have been.”
“What happened, Robin?” Jessica asked.
“When I was sixteen, we were driving to yet another appointment with a psychiatrist. Over the three years prior, they had taken me to doctor after doctor, who tried medication after medication.” I winced at the bitterness in my voice.
Paranormal Talent Agency Episodes 4-6 Page 7
