Without Foresight

by P. D. Workman

  But she didn’t.

  “Just take my order,” Reg urged. “I’m not sitting close to anyone. I’m not having anyone over to join me. I’m just going to sit here by myself and enjoy a meal. I’m not trying to… lure anyone to their death.”

  Mona shook her head and cleared her throat. “The liability is too high. If something happened to someone here… if it became known that we knowingly let a predatory creature into the restaurant… insurance doesn’t cover that kind of risk.”

  Creature insurance? Was there any kind of rider a person could buy for that? It seemed like they could protect themselves from any kind of risk lately. Though there had been Vivian. She hadn’t been able to get any kind of insurance after all the accidents that had happened to her. She had been too high a risk.

  “How about a drink and you get me something to go?” Reg suggested, trying to come up with a compromise. She didn’t want to go home empty-handed. She didn’t want to leave and try to find another restaurant that would accept her patronage. She was hungry and just wanted a meal. Like every other time she had come to The Crystal Bowl.

  Mona paused, apparently considering the merits of this suggestion. It would get Reg out of her restaurant. But she would still be getting Reg’s trade.

  But evidently, Mona decided after due consideration that even just a drink was too big of a risk. She shook her head again. “I’m sorry, but you really are going to have to go.”

  “I’d like to talk to the owner,” Reg blustered, hoping that Mona wasn’t the owner of the restaurant and there was still another level to appeal to.

  Mona shook her head. “The buck stops here, I’m afraid. Don’t make me call the police to have you removed.”

  “Oh, come on! What are you going to tell the police? That you think I’m a predator who is going to eat your other customers?”

  The police in Black Sands were of the non-magical sort. There were a few around, like Detective Marta Jessup, who knew about magic or came from magical families, or even had some minor powers themselves. But those who were “in” on the secrets of Black Sands did not bring it up. If Mona called in the police, she would have to come up with some much more mundane excuse for not wanting Reg there.

  “I will tell them that you were making a disruption. Or that you’ve passed bad checks or counterfeit cash here before. There are lots of reasons I can give.”

  “But it’s a lie. You don’t have any evidence that I did any of those things.”

  “They don’t ask for proof. There isn’t any big investigation into why I want someone removed from the restaurant. They’ll just take me at my word.”

  That didn’t seem particularly fair. But Reg had been kicked out of enough shops and restaurants in the past to know that the police wouldn’t be on her side. They would just escort her out. And if she gave them any trouble, they would arrest her and throw her in the tank for the night.

  “You won’t even give me a drink?” Reg wheedled again. “Does it look like I’m here hunting?”

  She remembered when she and Corvin had seen a siren and a mermaid hunting down at the marina. It had been obvious what they had been up to. They had been ensorcelling a sailor. It had been clear. The same as when Norma Jean had been trying to lure Corvin. She got close to him, touched him, smiled, and flirted with him until he was utterly lost, with no way for him to return. Luckily, Norma Jean had not been able to close the deal or something had interrupted her from her plans. Corvin said the bloodlines were weak; a young or inexperienced siren might not have the instincts to take her prey down to the water or otherwise dispose of him. Like an animal raised in captivity that didn’t know how to kill. Or if it could kill, didn’t know what to do with its prey.

  Mona looked pointedly at her watch. “I think we’ve wasted enough time on this. If you aren’t out of here in five minutes, I will be calling the police. We are not serving you, even one drink, so please leave.”

  Reg stood up abruptly, her anger flaring. There were a couple of pops and the sound of falling glass as a couple of glasses exploded in the bar area. Mona stepped quickly back from Reg, her face pale. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and held it up for Reg to see. One last warning that she would call the cops.

  And Reg didn’t want any involvement with the police. Nothing that would raise her profile in their eyes or make them want to run background on her. There was too much to be found about what had happened in the past. She had no desire to go back to Tennessee or Maine or any of the other states where she had operated under various names.

  She liked Florida, and Black Sands in particular.

  Reg sighed in exasperation. “I’m not doing anything to hurt you,” she snapped, irritated at Mona acting like she was a violent criminal. She couldn’t do anything about the exploding glasses.

  Reg headed to the door, struggling to control her breathing to convince herself that there was nothing to be angry about. So they didn’t want her there at The Crystal Bowl. There were plenty of other restaurants that would accept her patronage.

  As she reached the double front doors of The Crystal Bowl, she felt an unexpected rush of warmth and a magnetic pull toward them.

  Reg knew what that meant.

  Chapter Three

  Reg stopped a few feet from the doors, knowing who was on the other side. They parted in front of her and Corvin nearly walked into her.

  He stopped abruptly and looked at Reg. A smile played across his face. “Reg. Where are you going in such a hurry?”

  “I’ve got somewhere else I need to be.” She stepped forward to push past him. But Corvin anticipated her movement and mirrored it so that she couldn’t get out the doors.

  “You have… somewhere else you need to be.”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Corvin moved in closer to Reg, drawing in a long breath. His eyes were intent on hers, and she felt a shiver of anticipation that counteracted the warm flush.

  “You haven’t eaten,” Corvin said.

  He said it as if he knew it, when clearly, he couldn’t have. Was there something different about her smell? Or was he reading her? They had shared psychic powers and experiences in the past, so much so that it seemed impossible to totally close the conduit between them.

  Reg gritted her teeth and didn’t explain the situation to Corvin. He looked past her into the restaurant, taking everything in. After a few moments, his eyes returned to Reg.

  “Why don’t we go somewhere else, then?”

  “I don’t want to jump from restaurant to restaurant. I’m just going to run into the same thing everywhere. I don’t know how word got around, but…”

  Corvin nodded slowly. “Your friend Julian Sabat, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Reg nodded. That would make sense. The investigator from Magical Investigations who had been looking into a death in the Everglades and shared a past with Reg had been very excited with his discovery that she was part siren. She had no doubt that he had spread it far and wide and exaggerated his own involvement with her and the heroic lengths he had gone to in order to close his investigation.

  Yes, she had no doubt that Julian had something to do with word getting around Black Sands so quickly. But realizing that didn’t help Reg with her dilemma. There was apparently nothing for her to do but to go back home to eat what was in the fridge or to order something in. Or she could stop at the grocery store to get what she needed to make something for herself.

  Only Reg didn’t cook. And she didn’t feel like going back to the grocery store so soon after her last encounter there.

  “Julian,” Reg muttered.

  Corvin nodded his head in agreement. “That being the case… perhaps I could find somewhere suitable.”

  “Where? Everywhere is going to be the same.”

  “Don’t underestimate my ability to solve a problem,” Corvin told her self-importantly. “You haven’t even given me a chance.”

  He waited. Reg didn’t want to say anything to him, but he clearly
wasn’t going to go on until she gave in.

  “Fine. What is your solution?”

  “You agree to let me try to find a solution for you?”

  “Yes. I said fine. So where do you think we should go?” There was, of course, the restaurant they had previously attended at the marina. Reg knew that they allowed sirens and mermaids to get drinks there. But she was also worried that getting so close to the water might affect her ability to control her impulses.

  Corvin smiled. He offered Reg his arm. “Shall we?”

  Reg rolled her eyes and took his arm. He was wearing a jacket, so there was no electrical shock from skin-to-skin contact. But Reg could still sense the buzzing electricity between them. She had never been so magnetically attracted to someone before. But given Corvin’s own nature, that was a huge problem.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as Corvin escorted her out to his car. He was in the little white compact, not having anticipated that he would end up out with her. A planned date would have called for the big black luxury car he had taken Reg out in before.

  “What about the club?” Corvin suggested.

  Reg had been to his private club a couple of times. It was possible they would allow her in as Corvin’s guest. Either because they didn’t know about her or because of the exorbitant membership fees.

  “Well… If you think they would let me eat there… yeah, I guess.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but she spoke over him. “In the dining room, not one of those private rooms,” she warned.

  She wanted to be around other people. When it was just her and Corvin, it would be too easy for him to charm her without anyone noticing. Reg was much better now at resisting him, but couldn’t assume that she would be able to fend him off all night. Or however long they were together. In the dining room, she would be able to relax, knowing that there were others around to help if she needed it.

  “One of the private rooms would be so much more… intimate,” Corvin countered, leaning toward her and breathing into her ear.

  “I know that. Why do you think I said I wanted the dining room?”

  He gave her one of his knock-’em-dead smiles that nearly took her breath away. Everything about him was designed to charm, from his dark hair and eyes to his perfectly-trimmed goatee and devastating smile. Even the rose-scented pheromones he exuded when he was actively trying to charm her. But Reg had built up a resistance and her powers were much stronger than they had been when she had first met Corvin.

  Reg considered telling him that they had to go in separate cars so that she would be able to drive herself home from the club, but she didn’t want to argue the point. She was hungry and he was going to take her somewhere there would be a good meal and good drinks available, for as long as she wanted. Hunger and the situation at The Crystal Bowl were making her grumpy, and she wanted the pleasant evening Corvin’s smile promised.

  So she got into his car when he opened the door for her, and then watched him go around to his own side.

  The air inside the car became cloyingly sweet with the smell of roses. Reg buzzed her window down a bit without comment.

  Black Sands wasn’t the big city, and it wasn’t long before they were parking in the underground garage beneath Corvin’s club. He went around the car to open Reg’s door for her and escorted her to the red door inside the parking structure that would take them into the club. He didn’t even have to knock; they must have a motion detector or surveillance camera monitoring the parking garage. The street-side door which Reg had entered through before would be secondary. Most people would drive in and use the provided parking.

  The wide red door swung open and a stunning Asian woman stood there to greet them. As with the previous hostesses Reg had met there, the woman’s jade green dress had a plunging neckline that left little to the imagination, as well as being backless. Reg would have felt extremely awkward in such a revealing outfit, but the hostesses seemed to take it all in stride, graceful and gracious at every turn.

  “Mr. Hunter. So glad to see you tonight.”

  Corvin nodded a greeting, turning his hungry eyes and charming smile on her and making Reg feel like she had been left behind.

  “Melanie. Thank you. Miss Rawlins and I are hoping there is space in the dining room?”

  The club had not been busy when Reg had been there before. A few patrons hidden away in private rooms. A handful in the dining room who had bigger parties or who were dining alone. She doubted if the dining room were ever even half full.

  “Certainly,” Melanie agreed. “Would you like drinks first in the privacy of your own room?”

  Corvin turned his eyes toward Reg, but she shook her head. “No. Just the dining room.”

  “Whatever you wish,” Corvin agreed, and nodded to Melanie, who had clearly heard Reg’s response.

  Melanie wasted no time in escorting them to the dining room. The large room was richly appointed, with a luxuriously deep carpet that Reg couldn’t believe had ever suffered a wine stain or other culinary accident, heavy dark furniture, and portraits on the wall that had probably been painted by masters with foreign names that Reg had only heard of.

  Melanie led them to a table. “Would this be acceptable?”

  Corvin nodded immediately. Reg looked around, making sure that there were people close by and they wouldn’t be hidden from view. She didn’t want anything happening because they were out of sight. Eventually, she agreed, deciding it would not be necessary for her to sit closer to the kitchen in case she needed help.

  Corvin drew out a chair for Reg and she sat down. She always felt awkward when a man held a chair for her. She was never quite sure whether she would land on it properly, if he were going to scoot it in as she sat or if she would need to pull it forward herself once she was situated. And, of course, there was always the possibility of his pulling the chair back and making her fall to the floor, like a schoolboy prank.

  She’d never been much good at trust exercises.

  Corvin let her pull her own chair in. He chose the chair to her side rather than across the table from her. Closer, more intimate. Less room to work with if she needed to put a protection spell between them. Corvin ordered a bottle of wine from the waitress who floated over to serve them, or what Reg assumed from the French name was wine. When they were seated alone, Corvin smiled at her—the smug, contented smile of a cat with cream.

  He figured he had her right where he wanted her.

  But if he were going to try to charm her to steal her powers, he would be disappointed. She knew all his tricks.

  After perusing their menus and having a sip of the needlessly expensive wine, Corvin initiated the conversation.

  “You’re having trouble getting service in town?”

  “Yes. Apparently, they don’t cater to sirens.”

  He gave an amused smile. “It isn’t like you’re active.”

  “Who knows what Julian told people. He probably told people that I attacked him—which I didn’t. He wants them to think he was tough to have escaped me. I’m sure he’s talked it up plenty.”

  “I suppose. But it won’t last. People will be eager for some scandal, but when it becomes obvious that you’re the same old Reg as always, they’ll forget about it. Who knows how many people in these parts have some tiny percentage of siren blood in their veins. It doesn’t make them dangerous.” He chuckled. “Not necessarily.”

  Corvin had seen Reg triggered twice before, so he knew that her siren instincts weren’t quite as dormant as Reg would like people to think.

  “If I can get people to believe that,” Reg sighed.

  He nodded. “I’m sure this silliness will pass. People will realize that there’s nothing to it.”

  “Somebody egged the house last night. And apparently cast a protection spell against sirens.”

  “They egged your house?” This seemed to take him aback.

  “Yeah. That, together with being refused service at The Crystal Bowl… I’m feeling kind
of sorry for myself right now. I never thought I’d have to deal with this kind of garbage.”

  Corvin frowned, shaking his head. “Our community is usually quite tolerant. We are used to being viewed as outsiders. After all that trouble in Salem. Witches are usually—”

  “I know. Peaceful. Trying to be at harmony with nature and each other. That’s what Sarah said too.”

  “Yes.” Corvin took a thoughtful sip of his wine. “Exclusion is not something that I usually see in Black Sands.”

  Reg swallowed. It didn’t make her feel any better that she was being singled out in a way that others were not. What was she to do when it was the witches who wanted to burn her at the stake?

  She looked around, hoping that the waitress might be on her way over with their meals. But it hadn’t been long enough. It wasn’t a fast-food restaurant. It would probably be half an hour before their dishes were ready. Reg rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the tense muscles that were starting to give her a headache.

  “Thanks for this,” she said, gesturing at the dining room. “I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t come by and suggested it. I guess I probably would have just gone home and… eaten something that Sarah put in the fridge for me.”

  He gave a dramatic shudder at this suggestion. “Heaven forbid.”

  Reg laughed. “Her cooking is good. It just isn’t my thing. You know, vegetables and things that are good for me. At least her food is better than her tea.”

  It was Corvin’s turn to laugh. “Some witches are very talented in pulling together a remedy that is not only good for you, but pleasant to drink as well.”

  Reg remembered the tea that Calliopia’s mother had prepared as a restorative. It had been surprisingly nice.

  “But Sarah does not have that talent,” Reg observed.

  “No. Unfortunately not.”

  They both chuckled. Reg took another sip of her wine. She was probably drinking it too fast on an empty stomach. Wanting that pleasantly buzzed feeling to take all the stress away. She shouldn’t drink at all with Corvin there. His charms affected her judgment enough without any chemical assistance. She took a couple more swallows anyway. She wasn’t feeling it at all yet.