by Paul Neuhaus
“Thank Christ,” Taft said, shrinking at each new impact and flash.
A portal appeared inside the shield and, just as quickly, collapsed in on itself. Quinn’s whole body straightened. She became rigid and shot through with a bizarre combination of numbness and pain. Even in the heat of the moment, her brain struggled to label what was happening to her. It felt like a Charley Horse, but not in a regular muscle, in the “muscle” that allowed her to Channel. It spasmed from her core both up to her head and down to her feet. When she was in the throes of it, she couldn’t use her voice. She was completely subservient to the sensation and wouldn’t be truly Quinn again until it subsided.
Josie saw Henaghan’s distress. “Quinn! What’s wrong?!”
Still unable to speak, the older woman shook her head. The tendons in her neck stood out and her eyes bulged.
Taft turned her attention to the still-attacking phantasms. She willed herself back into concentration mode. The next Vidyaadhara to crash into the sphere surrounding herself and her de facto aunt turned into a bouquet of long-stem roses and it dispersed across the surface of the bubble. The next attacker became a bowl of applesauce. The bowl broke and the applesauce adhered to the shield. Outside the protective field, Josie could see more and more Vidyaadhara gather. “Aunt Quinn,” she said. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up! I don’t know how to take us back.”
Henaghan willed her body to relax. She willed the strange muscle inside her to loosen. She willed her body temperature to drop. Finally, she was herself enough to speak. Her voice was throaty and hoarse. “Stop,” was the only word she could manage.
“Stop?”
Quinn nodded. “You’re doing… What attracted them.”
Josie knew the redhead was right. She immediately stopped transmogrifying the phantasms. That didn’t stop the creatures from launching themselves at the sphere.
The older woman reached out to the younger one. “Take… my hand. Need… to borrow.”
Taft didn’t ask what Henaghan meant. It didn’t matter. She took the older woman’s hand.
Henaghan was having trouble accessing her own reserves of maya. She didn’t have enough to create a second portal. She didn’t, but Josie did. Through their palms, Quinn syphoned some of the girl’s power into herself. As soon as the energy flooded in, some of Quinn’s rigidity abated. Her “maya muscle” relaxed. This also gave Henaghan the ability to focus. With excruciating slowness, a slit appeared inside the shield and grew, expelling light. Eventually, it was large enough to envelope both women.
The moment Quinn and Josie disappeared, the bubble collapsed and the aggressive Vidyaadhara slammed into one another.
Josie and Quinn dropped into the living room in Burbank with a thud. Taft fell backward into the coffee table whereas Henaghan landed like a bundle of wet rags and remained there on the carpet. Rubbing her back, the younger girl sat up and hovered over her aunt. “God. Are you okay?”
Quinn didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow. Her skin was shiny and pale.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Josie said, jumping up and taking long strides down the hallway to the master bedroom. She had no idea what else to do other than wake Molly. Blank was already awake. She rushed past the teenager without seeing her. Once in the living room, Molly knelt beside her girlfriend. “Go get my cellphone,” she told Taft. “It’s on the counter in the kitchen.” Josie ran off to do as she was told. The brunette woman slapped Quinn’s cheeks lightly with the backs of her fingers. “Quinn? Quinn, honey? Don’t do this. Unacceptable.”
Josie returned with the phone and tried to hand it to Molly.
“Dial nine-one-one,” Molly said.
“Don’t you have to do the fingerprint thing?”
“Not for nine-one-one.” Blank looked around, uncertain what to do. She didn’t want to move Quinn—if for no other reason than she’d heard somewhere you’re not supposed to move an injured person. She was frantic, afraid the love of her life would die right there on the carpet. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Time suddenly dilated.
Henaghan was alone in a black void. Lying prone. She was cold. She was scared. A presence flowed in from nowhere in particular, a cloud of light and warmth. It laid itself over Quinn, enfolding her and comforting her.
The presence was Molly Blank.
Nine-one-one answered, and Josie spoke with complete authority. “Yes, I’ve got a very sick woman here. I need an ambulance to 2323 Eggel—”
Quinn cut her off. The redhead sat bolt upright with a sharp intake of breath. Both Molly and Josie were startled.
Molly fell backward onto her ass. Josie stood there with her mouth agape. The only sound—other than Quinn’s ragged breathing—was the tiny voice of the nine-one-one operator. Finally, Josie came back to herself. She put the phone back to her ear. “Yeah, we’ll get back to you,” she said. She hung up and dropped the cell into the empty chair between herself and Molly. Without further comment, she ran back to the kitchen.
Blank snapped out of the shock brought on by Quinn’s sudden return to the land of the living. She leaned in, supporting Henaghan’s back and laying her hand on the younger woman’s forehead. “God, you’re cold. You’re cold. Can you hear me?”
“I’m cold,” the redhead said. Molly grabbed an afghan from where it was folded over the back of the chair. She threw it over Quinn.
Taft returned carrying a glass of water and a wet dishtowel. Molly took both items. “Drink this,” she said, holding the glass so Henaghan could drink. Quinn complied, downing the entire contents in one gulp.
“Do you want more?” Josie said.
Quinn shook her head so Molly handed the empty container to Taft. Then she laid the towel onto her girlfriend’s forehead. That done, she picked up her phone from the chair.
“What’re you doing?” Henaghan said, adjusting the towel.
“Calling an ambulance.”
Quinn took the phone away with surprising vigor. “No,” she said.
“Bullshit,” Molly replied and a tug-o-war for the iPhone ensued.
Josie looked back and forth between the two embattled women. “Aunt Quinn. You have to see a doctor. What happened wasn’t normal.”
Henaghan won the tug-o-war and jammed the cell into her shirt.
Molly jammed her hands into Quinn’s blouse. Josie grabbed Blank by the wrists and pulled the hands back out again. “Let it go,” she said. “Let it go for now.” The teenager laid the back of one hand on her aunt’s cheek. Quinn’s color was returning, and her breathing was more normal. “What can we do for you?” she said to the redhead.
Henaghan looked around as if she was verifying her surroundings. “I wanna go to bed,” she said.
Taft looked at Molly. “Let’s put her to bed.”
Blank nodded and the two of them got Quinn up and took her to the master bedroom. They didn’t bother undressing her. They got her into bed and covered her with the comforter. She was asleep almost immediately, and Molly fished her phone out of the younger woman’s top. Blank turned to Josie. “C’mere,” she said. The two walked into the hallway out of earshot of Quinn. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. I just wanted you to know you were amazing. You kept your head when I almost lost mine. You’ve got an open invitation to be here during any and all emergencies.”
The teenager beamed. “Deal.” She pointed back into the bedroom. “Keep a good watch over her.”
Blank nodded and said, “Absolutely.” She shut the door and Taft went to her own room.
In Panorama City, Sam slept a fitful sleep. She was having a dream—the same dream she’d had for more than sixty years.
A woman writhed on a bed with dirty sheets. She was nude and covered with sweat. She was drugged beyond the capacity for rational thought. Above her, many men loomed. Or perhaps it was just one man. He was nearly formless, but his body somehow projected contempt.
Big hands grabbed the girl by her hips and slid her down the bed. Still other ha
nds grabbed her ankles and pulled them apart. Wide apart.
The girl moaned. She didn’t know where she was, but she knew it was starting again. The now seemingly-endless cycle. She had only a dim recollection of her life before the one she had now.
The sharp pain of entry. The repeated insult of stroking. In and out.
She tried to sit up; to strike out with her hands at the nebulous shape that’d entered her. More hands, grabbing her wrists, pulling her back, holding her down.
She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as tightly as she could.
But then, something new. Something Sam had not seen before. Something incongruent. Out of a medical documentary. The “camera” of Sam’s eye entered the girl’s vagina along with the invading phallus. Sam recoiled in her sleep. She tried to shut the dream off but could not. She continued to travel into the girl. She passed through tissue walls and into the bloodstream. For a long time, she ran the rapids of flowing, agitated blood. At last she came into a vast open space. In it, a double helix hung suspended, turning very slowly. Sam knew her biology. Deoxyribonucleic acid. DNA.
Why? Why was she seeing this? Sam was aware the molecule in front of her was somehow different than normal DNA, but she wasn’t sure how. She wondered at the strange vision.
Then she was ripped back out of the quiet void where the double helix hung. Ripped backward through the woman’s body and back into the room where she was violated again and again.
3
Ghosts
Josie Taft set her alarm so she could make breakfast for her aunts. When she got to the kitchen, she saw Quinn and Molly were already awake. Quinn sat at the dining room table while Molly fried eggs and bacon. Josie sat down. “So,” she said. “How’re you?”
Henaghan turned to her niece with a smile. “I’m still kicking,” she said. “You saved my ass back there.”
Taft crinkled her face. “I didn’t actually do anything. In fact, it looks like I caused the problem.”
Quinn shook her head. “You caused a problem you had no idea you were causing which is kinda like not causing a problem at all. As for not doing anything… You gave me a power boost when I needed it. If not for that we’d’ve been phantasm food.”
Blank entered and slid eggs and bacon onto first Quinn’s plate and then Josie’s. She turned to the teenager. “She still won’t see a doctor,” she said. ”Tell her she’s gotta see a doctor.”
Josie started to speak, but Quinn cut her off. “I can’t go to a doctor-doctor. What’m I gonna tell him? I got a Charley Horse in my magic muscle? That’s above his pay grade.”
Molly stopped on her way back to the kitchen. “Don’t they have magic doctors?”
That stopped Henaghan short. They did have magic doctors and she’d just met her first. She’d even thought about seeing him for her night terrors. “I’ll look into it,” she said, still uncertain she wanted to commit. She had a long history of distrusting the medical profession.
“Maybe you should ask David about it,” Blank replied. “Surely, somewhere down the line, everyone gets a bad case of Wizard’s Elbow.”
“Or conjurer’s erectile dysfunction,” Josie offered.
Quinn put her finger to her lips and said, “Shh. You’re not supposed to know about stuff like that. You’re only fourteen months old.”
Taft shrugged. “Boners are funny.”
“I don’t disagree, but still.”
Molly reentered and sat down with her own plate. “Are you guys talking about boners?”
“Not on purpose,” Henaghan said with a sigh. She swabbed a piece of toast through her egg yolk and said, “What happened last night… was scary. I’m not used to being vulnerable.”
Blank shook her head. “Even big shots tumble and fall.”
Quinn shrugged. “I fell ass backwards into wizarding, so it figures there’d be growth pangs.”
Molly nibbled a slice of bacon. “Teaching your niece parlor tricks and almost dying is a growth pang?”
“It’s not like I planned it that way.”
Both of the older women turned to Josie when she spoke. “How about, as a rule of thumb going forward, you let other people help you out? Maybe you’re taking too much on yourself.”
Quinn poked at her eggs and mumbled, “Maybe you’re taking on too much.”
Blank turned to their guest. “How does it feel being more mature at fourteen months than your aunt at twenty-eight?”
Things grew quiet for a moment before a knock came from the front door. Josie stood and ran to the foyer. “Who could that be?” Quinn said.
Molly shrugged, but she had a twinkle in her eye.
Taft returned with David Olkin who took off his jacket and threw it over the back of one of the living room chairs.
“David. What’re you doing here? It’s not Fleur-de-lys time again ’til tomorrow.”
Olkin looked back and forth between Henaghan and Blank. Molly had gotten up and was fixing David a plate. “Search me. Molly invited me to breakfast. Like I’m gonna say no to your girlfriend’s cooking.”
“What a weird coincidence,” the brunette said in a sing-song voice. “We were just talking about David. Weren’t we, Quinn?” She stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend.
As Olkin sat and Molly put breakfast in front of him, David unfolded his napkin and put it on his knee. “I’m sensing some kind of conspiracy here…”
“And a ham-fisted one at that,” Henaghan said, glaring at Molly as Molly sat back down herself. Molly placed the tip of her index finger against her cheek and turned her hand several times in the universal sign for “Aren’t I adorable?” Quinn turned back to David. “I think Molly would like me to ask you for a doctor referral.”
Olkin looked confused. “Didn’t we dance that dance yesterday? I told you to talk to Dr. Terry.” He turned to Blank. “Is this about the night terrors?”
Molly was in full Mother Hen mode. She looked at Quinn pointedly. “Tell him…”
The redhead sighed. “I was trying to show Josie a little magic last night and I had a mini-stroke in the Astral Plane. Couldn’t talk. Couldn’t move. We wouldn’t’ve gotten back if Josie hadn’t loaned me some of her maya.”
Olkin had his first bite of eggs halfway to his mouth. He put the fork back down again. “Oh, Quinn. That’s a lot more serious than a little late-night hysteria. You have to talk to Terry. You can’t afford to fuck around.”
“I know, I know. I’ll talk to him,” Quinn said, sounding more like a teenager than Josie.
Molly was still the stern mother figure. “When?” she said.
“I dunno. Soon.”
“When?” Blank pressed.
“I’ll drive over tomorrow. There. Are you happy?”
“No. But it’ll have to do. Call him. You’re going over tomorrow. I’m going with you. To make sure you don’t spend the day at Target and lie about it after.”
David was smiling from ear to ear. “I like her,” he said. meaning the brunette. “She’s strict.” He finally took a bite of his eggs and his eyes rolled up into his head. He pounded the table lightly with his free hand. “Holy, fuck!” he said. Then he realized he’d sworn in front of Josie, so he apologized. Olkin turned to Molly. “This is one of the top five things I’ve ever put in my mouth. What is this? Is it tarragon? It’s tarragon, isn’t it?”
“It’s tarragon,” Blank said with a smile.
David turned back to Henaghan and feigned disgruntlement. “Your girlfriend’s hot and she can cook. Mine can’t microwave popcorn and she’s crazier than a shit house rat.”
“Hey, that’s on you,” Quinn said. “Do you have the number for the clinic in Sylmar?”
“I do,” the agent said. He fished out his iPhone, found the number in his contacts then he and Quinn bumped phones to share the data.
Henaghan immediately dialed the number and made arrangements to meet with Dr. Terry the following morning.
Taking a bite from a strip of bacon, Blank said, “There. Se
e? Was that so hard?”
Quinn squinted at her girlfriend. “No. It wasn’t so hard. Mom.”
Molly feigned real hurt. “Ugh. Don’t call me that. I’ve heard the stories about Olivia Henaghan.”
David turned back to Quinn. “If it’s not too personal, I wanna dig a little deeper on this whole mini-stroke thing. Is this the first time it’s happened?”
Henaghan shook her head. “I got a similar… Charley Horse when I was up in San Francisco. This new thing felt like it was related to that but worse.”
“A Charley Horse? What does that even mean?”
Quinn shrugged. “Not having grown up in this tradition, I don’t know what stuff is called. It was like the muscle that controls magic-use. I threw it out. Last night I had a bad spasm. A really bad one.”
David looked at her for a long moment. “Huh,” he said. “You realize there is no muscle that controls Channeling. Physiologically speaking, we’re no different from the mundanes.”
“I know. I was just breaking it down so it’d be digestible. I don’t know what else to call it.”
Olkin jammed some more eggs into his mouth. Meanwhile, Molly had gone into the kitchen, grabbed the skillet and dumped another serving onto the man’s plate. The agent looked up at her with absolute adoration. “Bless you,” he said. Again, he turned back to Quinn. “This is a new one on me, but Dr. Terry’ll know. He’s the shit.”
Blank sat back down and raised her orange juice in a toast. “You hear that, Quinn? The doctor you met but didn’t tell me about is the shit.”
In the end, Quinn was glad David Olkin had come over that morning. Something had been churning in the back of her mind ever since she’d met Sam, the Asura-human hybrid. After breakfast, she and the agent retired to the local Starbucks. They sat down outside with their drinks and the agent said, “What’s on your mind?”
