by Phil Stern
“Sharra.” Tiffany turned to fully face her. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to say hi, that’s all.” Pursing her lips, the rival sorceress took a half-step backwards, again studying the crowd. “Oh, and to complement you on the Tethren job. After all, that Prefect really had it coming, didn’t he?”
Unbidden, Tiffany felt her own power beginning to surge outward. All her instincts were screaming out that Sharra was a threat, and a completely unknown one at that. Taking a step closer, she grabbed the stranger’s arm. “Maybe you and I should have a private talk,” she murmured. “Outside.”
“Now, now. There’s no need to get catty. Is there?” A tiny glow from Sharra’s stone sent a sharp tendril of ruby energy shooting into Tiffany’s hand.
Nearly burned, Tiffany quickly let go. By now fully aroused, she brought her hand up to her own stone, eyes flashing a soft, angry green. “Listen, I have no fucking idea what’s going on here. But you and I…”
“Hey, Tiff!” Unbidden, Blake strode over, placing his left arm around her waist. “Come on, babe. It’s time to sit down.”
“Of course.” Keeping a wary eye on the red-haired witch, Tiffany tried not to grind her back teeth together. “But listen, if you could just give us a minute…”
“Blake Stanton! How are you!” Almost giggling, the unknown sorceress stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Sharra.”
“Uh, sure. Pleased to meet you.” Reflexively, he began stretching out his own hand.
However, before they could actually touch, Tiffany corralled Blake’s right wrist, firmly pulling it back. “Babe, I’ll be there in a minute. I promise.”
Dropping her awkwardly extended hand, Sharra now pointedly stepped to the side for a better view. “Tiffany! You’ve been holding out on me!” Looking Blake up and down, Sharra nodded approvingly. “He’s much better looking than you said he was!”
“Well, uh, thank you.” Laughing, Blake squeezed Tiffany’s waist. “I take it you two know one another?”
“Of course.” Sharra tossed her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “I’m sure you’ve mentioned me to Blake, haven’t you?”
“Uh, yeah. Sharra here is an old friend.” Somehow, she managed to refrain from beating the unknown witch senseless. “From back home.”
“Please, Tiff! That’s not true, and you know it.” Sadly, Sharra shook her head. “You’re from Dytha, aren’t you? That’s worlds away from where I grew up.”
“Dytha?” Now sensing the tension, Blake paused. “Is that near Schuylerville?”
“Not even close!” Sharra replied. “But I’ll let Tiffany explain that in her own good time.”
By now everyone was moving towards their seats, leaving the three of them alone in the cocktail area. Deliberately, Tiffany now stepped between Blake and Sharra, once more locking gazes with the rival witch. “Maybe we’ll talk later.”
“Maybe we will.” Sharra nearly purred. “I’ll be sitting in the back.” Turning away, Sharra glided over to a table in the rear, at which sat only one other couple.
“Hey, babe. We gotta go.” Now firmly tugging at her arm, Blake led them to their places near the front of the hall. “What the hell was she talking about?” he whispered in her ear. “Where’s Dytha?”
“Nowhere, dear. Nowhere at all.” Trying not to openly seethe, Tiffany made a point of smiling warmly as they sat down. “Don’t worry about her.”
“Is she really a friend from back home?” he continued. “You’ve never mentioned her.”
“I said not to worry about her!” Taking a deep breath, Tiffany tried to relax. “Come on, honey. This is your night.”
Shrugging, Blake turned away, shaking the hand of the precinct commander to his right.
As the program began, Tiffany’s mind raced. Who was this Sharra? Where had she come from? As far as she knew, her own Coven was the only one of it’s kind in the universe. But then again, the universe was a big place, with hundreds of dimensions still unexplored. And as they’d discovered with Lord Gensrow, anything was possible.
So was this, in fact, some sort of initial contact between Covens? If so, it certainly didn’t feel very friendly.
Now that she was attuned to Sharra’s energy, Tiffany could clearly sense the ruby witch seated at the back of the dining area. Facing the podium near the front, Tiffany almost felt her rival’s eyes on the back of her head. It was all she could do to remain seated, demurely clapping as the Deputy Chief finished his introductory remarks. Under the circumstances, it was incredibly difficult to just sit there as if nothing remarkable had just occurred, but her options were momentarily limited.
Well, one thing was clear. Whatever was going on, she needed to warn her Coven-mates. There were five other witches in semi-permanent residence on Earth who might now be in danger. Slipping a hand into her purse, Tiffany subtly pulled out a cell phone.
Coven operatives in “mid-tech” worlds (like Earth) had several coded text messages to send out in such circumstances. One was a general alarm, instructing everyone to flee back across the Boundary instantly. A second was an emergency summons for help.
The third “grounded” the Coven, instructing her sisters to instantly drop out of sight, change locations, and remain on their guard. In essence, they should become invisible, aware someone might be stalking them.
If Sharra was the forerunner of some general attack, her job might well be to flush out the rest of Tiffany’s Coven in this dimension. Therefore, options one and two might do more harm than good. Quickly choosing the grounding, she deftly touched the appropriate keys. Unbidden, her phone let out a soft beep.
“What are you doing?” Eyes locked on the City Councilman now droning away, Blake put a restraining hand on her wrist. “Put that away, Tiff. You’re embarrassing me!”
Slowly putting the phone back, she let out a frustrated sigh. Well, the warning had been sent, at least, even if Blake now thought her an insensitive dolt. And from his perspective, he was right.
Which brought up an interesting point. Clearly, Sharra’s approach was designed not only to put Tiffany at a disadvantage, but also to intrude upon her relationship with Blake. Whatever else, she wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.
The ceremony proceeded at an excruciatingly slow pace. Twenty minutes in, the first of the five officers being promoted was called up to the lectern to receive their new shield.
And that, apparently, was when Sharra became bored. Sensing a tiny swell of power from behind her, Tiffany could only watch as the first new detective tripped and fell over a chair leg. Everyone laughed good-naturedly, the embarrassed officer soon heading back to his table.
“Let’s hope Detective Yarno shows more poise in his new assignment!” the Deputy Chief commented from the podium. There was another round of laughter.
Irritably drumming her fingers on the table, Tiffany briefly looked around at Sharra sitting in the back. Catching her eye, Tiffany gave a tiny shake. Beaming, the ruby witch replied with a little wave.
The next new detective somehow knocked a glass of water all over himself while standing, instantly soaking his pants. There was another round of laughter, this time a bit more restrained.
“Detective Blake Stanton,” the Deputy Chief now announced. Tentatively, Blake stood to a round of polite applause.
Throwing all caution to the wind, Tiffany gathered her own power. Half-standing herself, she managed to “catch” Sharra’s energy burst on her own body, harmlessly dispersing it. Kissing Blake on the cheek, Tiffany then sank back down on her chair, irritably whisking away some residual ruby magic.
However, her rival apparently wasn’t to be denied. As Blake walked around the long table at the very front and approached the Deputy Chief, he suddenly tripped, crashing down into the lectern itself. The microphone was knocked aside, skidding across the front table amid loud, amplified banging and whistling. But that wasn’t as bad as the heavy thump heard around the room, as the head of Philadelphia’s new
est detective hit the wooden lectern flush.
“Blake!” Tiffany cried out, rushing around to his side as a shocked murmur ran around the hall.
Reaching him in a moment, Tiffany took Blake into her arms. Stunned, he was struggling up to a sitting position, holding his head.
“I’m all right,” he protested. Obviously woozy, though, Blake nearly slumped down into Tiffany’s arms. “I’m okay, babe.”
“No, you’re not.” Kissing him on the head, they were generally shielded from the crowd’s view below the level of the first table. “Just sit here a moment.”
Now a glass inexplicably flopped down from above, splashing them both with ice water. At this, a woman gasped, while a man called out, “What the hell is going on here?”
“Honey, can you excuse me a moment?” Smiling, she kissed him on the head again. “I need to address all this.”
“What?” Frowning, Blake shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
By now two emergency medical technicians, who’d been attending that night in formal suits, came up to assist. “Can you move aside, ma’am?” one of them peremptorily demanded, putting down a small first aid kit.
“Blake, I’ll be right back.” Giving him another quick kiss, she stood once more, dashing around the head table to the side wall. As the crowd muttered and craned their heads to see what was going on, Tiffany stalked toward the back of the hall, fully gathering her power.
By now, however, Sharra had dashed out the main entrance in back. Hurrying as best she could in high heels, Tiffany grimly pursued her quarry, soon reaching the heavy metal and glass doors.
As she’d expected, the new witch was planning to waylay her outside. So instead of just passing through the entrance, Tiffany violently banged the doors open, using their mass to project her own power as a tangible wave. Standing about fifteen feet away, by the valet stand, Sharra was roughly knocked into a cement post, instantly falling down onto the pavement.
“Sharra! Let me help you!” Without missing a beat, Tiffany came sweeping out of the building, quickly reaching her downed adversary. Bending over, she roughly hauled the ruby witch to her feet with one arm, then casually flung her back against the post once more. Hitting it even harder this time, Sharra awkwardly collapsed, a leg twisted painfully underneath her.
Gaping stupidly at them from a few feet away, the valet looked around uncertainly. “Why don’t you take a break?” Tiffany snapped. He dashed off.
Still, there were a few other people standing around, with cars passing on the main road a short distance off. Tiffany needed to wrap this up pretty fast.
Yet Sharra seemed otherwise inclined. Eyes blazing, she now staggered to her feet. Blood dripped from the witch’s split lip down onto her ripped designer suit. “I should kill you for this!” she hissed, advancing a few steps.
Now Tiffany employed a trick she’d learned while tussling with her Coven-mates as a teenager. Forming a magical shield about herself, a foot away from her own body, Tiffany purposefully strode forward. When Tiffany’s shield impacted Sharra’s gathering power, the two forces violently rebounded, like magnets with opposite charges.
But because Tiffany’s energy was shaped into a coherent, supported shield, Sharra took the worst of it. For a third time, she was sent sailing back against the post, this time knocked nearly unconscious.
Right on cue, an ambulance pulled into the circular, covered entranceway, right before the valet stand. Hopping out, the two EMT’s looked uncertainly at the downed witch. Clearly, they’d been called to attend to a male inside the restaurant, not a tipsy female reveler outside.
“Oh, can you help my friend!” Doing her best to appear upset, Tiffany vaguely waved at Sharra. “She hit her head.”
“You go inside,” one of the technicians said to the other. “I’ll see about her.”
As the one EMT bent down to examine Sharra, Tiffany felt another tickle of ruby power against her exposed arm. Casually glancing to her right, Tiffany saw a second unknown witch standing well off to the side, a look of cold fury on her face.
This was a much younger girl, about 21. Like Tiffany, she was also tall, with an almost perfect figure, her long, dark hair flowing down about her shoulders. In a tight, short dress, the newcomer slowly approached, a thin pink handbag in one hand.
“Sorry, honey.” Tiffany smiled, holding her own power in light readiness. “The prom’s been canceled.”
“Get away from her.” Stopping about ten feet away, the girl brought a hand up to her own ruby necklace. “Now!”
“Well, aren’t we all full of ourselves?” Sauntering closer to this new girl, and away from where the EMT was attending to Sharra, Tiffany made sure not to get caught between the two. “You’re the backup, I take it?”
“Tiffany Smith.” Unintimidated, the new witch raised her chin. “We know all about you.”
“Then you have the advantage of me. But let me make one thing very clear.” Stopping right by the stunning brunette, Tiffany spoke very softly. “If any of you ever hurt Blake again, it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. Are we clear?”
Angry ruby fire flickered briefly across her light brown eyes. “Your Coven is weak.”
“I think we’re strong enough.” Giving the girl a hard shove, Tiffany was gratified to see her sprawl down on the pavement, the handbag skidding off a few feet. “Oh, and tell Sharra the next time I see her, she’s going to find out what a witch I really am.”
Turning about, Tiffany stalked back to the front doors, her heels clicking lightly on the pavement.
Blake was being led out of the restaurant on foot, an ice bag held to his head. Tie loosened, Tiffany’s love seemed his old self, angrily brushing the EMT aside upon seeing her. By now, the valet had slowly wandered back, staring at Tiffany in awe. Shoving the claim ticket into his hand, he promptly dashed off to get their car.
“Tiffany!” Walking up to her, Blake anxiously took her hand. “Where’d you go?”
“Oh, Blake.” Giving him a long hug, she spoke into his ear. “I was letting the professionals help you. But one of the girls apparently had a little too much to drink, so I brought her outside.”
Standing aside, she nodded at a now-conscious Sharra, sitting on a hastily provided folding chair. Giving Tiffany a murderous look, she began to rise, sliding a hand up to her ruby stone. Looking her fully in the eye, Tiffany gave a minute shake of her head. Thinking a long moment, a furious Sharra sank back down again.
“Come on, babe.” Eyes still on Sharra, Tiffany kissed him on the cheek. “Let me drive you home.”
“Isn’t that your friend?” Still a bit light-headed, Blake leaned against her for support. “Sherry, or Sharra, or something?”
“Don’t worry about her.” Luckily, the valet was very quick with the car, even now pulling up in front of the ambulance. Firmly leading Blake over, she put him into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him.
Now the younger brunette witch, having recovered some of her dignity, sauntered up. Holding her high heels in one hand and handbag in the other, she stared Tiffany straight in the eye. “My name is Valensa. Remember that.”
“I don’t give a fuck what your name is,” Tiffany sweetly replied. “But remember what I said. The next time, I’ll make an example of you that your Coven won’t soon forget.”
“Why don’t you make an example of me right now?” Valensa’s ruby stone began glowing angrily, the girl taking a half-step forward. “If you can.”
“I think I already did. But if you really want another, just try following us.” Striding by her, around the front of the car, Tiffany yanked open the driver’s side door. Giving Valensa a final glare, she then got into the seat, slamming the door closed.
Still holding the ice bag to his head, Blake innocently studied the glamorous young witch, still standing right outside his door. “Who the hell is that?”
Something about his tone greatly irritated Tiffany. Slipping the key into the ignition, she glared at
him. “You’re impressed, I take it?”
“No, but, uh…” Trailing off, Blake winced, rubbing his forehead. “She looks a lot like you, actually.”
Tiffany slammed the car into gear. “Nice try there, champ.” Wisely, Blake didn’t reply.
Pulling away, Tiffany glanced up at the rearview mirror. Valensa remained where she was, staring after them.
On the short drive home, Tiffany extended her sensitivity outward, searching for ruby magic. But all was clear. Either the rival Coven was very good at concealment, or they were being left alone.
But this had been an incredible night. Never before had Tiffany encountered any witches outside of her own kind. There were a few who’d left the Coven itself, now living in semi-seclusion, but that was just a social nuance. Their origins, and magic, were consistent with Tiffany’s own.
But these girls were obviously of an entirely different type, and clearly inter-dimensional. Just like Gensrow.
And something else tugged at Tiffany’s mind. For Blake, in fact, had been correct. Valensa did bear a striking resemblance to herself. In fact, the girl’s eyes were exact copies of her own. And though young, Valensa clearly possessed great power. It was very raw, and of course it was ruby-based power, so it felt different from hers. But not quite as different as Sharra’s had been.
That night, for the first time in years, she took the precaution of setting up magical warning beacons around the apartment. It was complicated work, and took over an hour. But when she was finished, a lamp, a table, and a window sill were now magically sensitive. If tripped, they would call her cell phone, which was now beside her bed.
Had anyone ever had to set up a magical trip wire in a mundane world? Probably not, except as some kind of joke played on a Coven-mate.
Tiffany also had to reassure her sisters, grounded by text message earlier, that she was all right. The girls in Moscow and Paris had all kinds of questions, but Tiffany put them off as best she could. Isabel, in Brazil, simply texted back a smiley face. (Being a magician didn’t automatically connote intelligence.) Apparently, Basia was back in Haven at the moment, and so wasn’t involved.
