nancy werlock's diary s01 - episodes 9

by Julie Ann Dawson

  Nancy Werlock’s Diary:

  Parental Advisory

  By Julie Ann Dawson

  ©2014 Julie Ann Dawson

  Bards and Sages Publishing

  Bellmawr, NJ

  www.bardsandsages.com

  Three Nancy Werlock Stories:

  Disturbances in the Force

  Someone has hacked into Nancy’s and Houston’s email accounts to give them a cryptic warning regarding…Sith Lords? What Nancy thinks is a joke turns out to be an urgent clue regarding the case of a certain missing Lord Advocate and a possible connection to Forbidden Magic. But who sent the message, and what is Nancy supposed to do with it?

  Parental Advisory

  With Nancy still coming to terms with her growing for Lee, Mrs. Brennon tries to help their relationship along as only a mother can: with guilt and embarrassment.

  Animation

  Anastasia’s anima defends her host against an intrusive and determined pride wisp, while Nancy’s house brownie goes missing.

  These stories are works of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or undead is coincidental and vaguely disturbing.

  Digital License

  This digital product is licensed for the enjoyment of the original purchaser. Please do not engage in file-sharing or illegal duplication. While we do not rely on DRM, we do employ DAP (Digital Arcane Protection). Illegal file sharing may result in gremlins or other mystical creatures overtaking your computer or ereader. Such infestations would be considered “acts of gods” and most likely not covered by your warranty. We thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

  Disturbances in the Force

  September 21st,

  I wake up naked next to Lee, with my head nestled on his shoulder and my hand across his chest. I lay there with my eyes closed, enjoying the feel of his chest rhythmically rising and lowering as he breathes. When I open my eyes, I tilt my head so I can watch him sleep. He twitches slightly when I rub a finger against his cheek, but he doesn’t wake up. I rub the tips of my fingers down his neck and across his chest when I realize that…

  …my life has become one of Anastasia’s cheesy paranormal romances.

  Lee is a skinwalker, after all. He had been accidentally summoned as a lemure by a wannabe warlock with a movie prop grimoire. And when I tried to chase him down to banish him; he had jumped into the body of a dying drug addict. Which should have been all the more reason to banish him.. But something strange happened to Lee when he woke up in the hospital in his new body. Normally, the host body degenerates rapidly as the demon indulges in actions that feed its vice. Lee hasn’t degenerated. Instead he got...sexier.

  Lee’s eyes pop open and he squeezes my ass. “Good morning, mistress.”

  “Yes it is,” I say and kiss him. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

  “That’s impressive considering your how many centuries old?”

  “True, but then again I don’t remember a lot of it. Most of my imphood is still a blur, and I don’t remember sleeping at all as a lemure. So...” He wraps his arms around me and hugs me close to him. “I want to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up next to you every morning.”

  “That is a tempting thought.”

  “Well, yeah. Demon. I’m supposed to tempt you, right?” He chuckles nervously. “I think maybe it’s time that I should be living here. I am your servitor, after all. I should be at your beck and call, mistress.” He rubs the back of my neck.

  “My beck and call, hmmm? You really are doing your damndest to tempt me, aren’t you?”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “I know. But not yet.”

  “Why?” His looks away in confusion. “You enjoyed last night, didn’t you? I can do that for you every night.”

  I kiss his chest. “Lee, last night was amazing. And there will be other nights. I want there to be other nights. But you aren’t moving in. Not yet.”

  “I don’t understand. If you enjoyed it and you want me here, why not let me stay?”

  “Because humans need time to…work things through in their own minds. There is a big difference between having sex with someone once and living with them every day.”

  He looks back at me as a sheepish grin spreads over his face and he whispers into my ear, “but if I lived here every day we could have sex every day.”

  “You are completely missing the point,” I say as he begins to nuzzle my neck and run his hands up and down my back. “Oh, Lee. You’re killing me.”

  He jumps in horror. “I’m sorry! What did I do? Are you hurt?”

  I stare at him blankly for a minute before I realize his problem. “No, no. Lee, I’m fine. It’s a figure of speech! Ye gods, you weren’t literally killing me. It…ugh!” I poke him in the forehead. “You know, you really need to start accessing the part of that brain that stores all of the human idioms.”

  “Nancy, I’m sorry. It’s our bond. I think sometimes when you say things it triggers...I don’t know. I just worry. I don’t want to do anything that hurts you. I don’t ever want you to be displeased with me.”

  “Lee, you make me happy. But if you’re going to live as a human, you need to learn how to be happy internally. If you hang your own happiness on everyone else…that’s not healthy. That’s why it isn’t a good idea for you to move in just yet. You’re still navigating your own emotions. You’re still dependent on other people being happy for your own comfort.”

  “But that’s how I feed. What am I supposed to do?”

  “I’m not talking about your physiological needs. I understand you feed off of…happy thoughts. You do have to realize how ridiculous that sounds when I say it out loud?” He nods and smirks. “I know your demonic biology requires that energy. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about your overall emotional state.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but I have a hard time understanding what that means. How am I supposed to separate the fact that I feed off of emotions from my emotions?”

  I cuddle next to him and sigh. “OK, let me put it this way. What’s a comfort food?”

  “Food that makes you feel good?”

  “Yes, comfort foods are foods that people eat when they are depressed or stressed or need a little pick-me-up after a hard day. They trigger an emotional response in the eater, usually because the eater associates the food with a happy moment or a good feeling. Even if that good feeling is just the taste of the food itself. We don’t eat them because we have a biological need. We eat them because they trigger emotional responses.”

  “Oh! That explains it!” He sits up in bed. “Mom made a homemade cheesecake the other day. I ate three pieces and I wasn’t even hungry.”

  “Your mother made homemade cheesecake, and you didn’t bring me any?” I fake a pout.

  “I’ll…bring you some next time?”

  I sit up and lean against him. “You better. But yes, you get the idea. For whatever reason, the cheesecake triggered an emotional response. Maybe something from childhood that you tapped into. While you were eating it, you felt good. But how did you feel afterwards?”

  “Bloated. I went to the gym.”

  “Exactly! That is the problem with comfort foods. They become a replacement for being happy or relaxed. It gets to a point where a person needs the food to be happy. People eat when they aren’t hungry because they are scared or bored or anxious. And what happens when humans overeat?”

  “They get out of shape. Oh! Okay! I get what you’re saying now.”

  “You have to learn how to be happy in a way that doesn’t require your comfort food, which is other people’s happiness.�
��

  Lee takes a deep breath. “His thing was the drugs. That is how he dealt with his stress and depression. He needed the drugs just to get through the day. At first they made him feel good, but over time…they stopped making him happy. He took them just to get through the day. And when he didn’t have them…I don’t want to be like that, Nancy.”

  “Now you understand what I’ve been saying.”

  “Yeah. I get it. But does this mean we aren’t having sex this morning?”

  “Oh, I didn’t say that.”

  * * *

  “Oh, look who decided to show up for work,” Houston thinks at me as I walk into the shop. At least he has the courtesy to not say it out loud in front of the customers.

  “Where’s Eric?”

  “In the office reviewing the Halloween security protocols.”

  “Did you finish looking them over?”

  “Yes, boss.” And he adds telepathically. “And I also checked the protocols for Anastasia to make sure they were mundane-friendly.”

  “Good man.”

  “So about last night—”

  “Take care of the customers while I go over the reports,” I say as I ignore him.

  “Talk about an afterglow. I’m going blind here.”

  I put up my Iron Wall to block his out.

  “That good, huh?” He shouts from the showroom.

  Eric looks up at me as I enter the office and then looks at the clock. “Good morning…I mean, good afternoon.”

  “Don’t you start,” I say as I boot up my computer.

  “Need me to go in the break room?”

  “No, you’re okay. Anastasia will be in soon and I’d rather not risk her seeing those protocols.”

  Eric starts reading again, but stops and closes the booklet. “Can I ask you some questions about yesterday?” I feel my eyebrow involuntarily rise up. “No, not about last night. Not my business who the boss fancies to do a bit of rumpy pumpy with. I leave sort of thing to Houston.”

  “What do you want to know?” I ask.

  “So you all have this cairn out there, unguarded most days, in the middle of a bloody forest.”

  “It’s not exactly unguarded. Technically, it doesn’t even come under the direct purview of the College of Evocation. It is a Native American holy site under the protection of Red Turtle.”

  “Who was bloody nowhere to be found when the zombies manifested. And he isn’t even a member of any of the Colleges. Even the College of Witchery. He’s a bloody hierophant who isn’t answerable to anyone. I’ve been swotting at all this homework you gave me. But I don’t need to be an evoker to know everything is snookered. If Annie hadn’t asked you to sponsor her for the Zombie Walk, we’d have our very own live episode of The Walking Dead going on right now.

  “And that bloke Steve, the Justicar friend of yours, he bloody well had the right idea with those Necromancers. They were about to go all Umbrella and take those zombies back to research! Next thing you know, they’ll be building a mansion with a Red Queen computer guardian! And we know how that turned out!”

  “You watch too many horror movies.”

  “You don’t watch enough!” He puts his head down. “I’m sorry. Not like me to yell. Apologies.”

  “I get why you’re frustrated. And you are correct. Yesterday could have been a devastating situation. And it shouldn’t have gotten to that point. There is no excuse for the number of security lapses that occurred that allowed that situation to come together like it did.”

  “It’s someone’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen, though. Right?”

  “The Archmage of the College of Evocation is stretched thin right now. You know about the situation involving the rogue Necromancer using forbidden magic. And then there is the issue of Lord Advocate of the Eighth of the Nine disappearing. And you know the Veil is very thin right now because of the coming Harvest Moon, which is why these security protocols are important, by the way.” I tap the booklet in front of him.”

  “Then he should get some bloody help!”

  “That’s why he asked me for help.” Eric rolls his eyes. “What was that for?”

  He lowers his voice. “But that’s the point. You’re an amazing demonologist, Nancy. And a great teacher. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned working with you. Houston is very lucky to have you guiding him. But this is the thing; you’ve been away from the Craft a long time. You’re just getting back into the thick of it yourself, and the Archmage leans on you like you’re his bloody second-in-command. And not just you. Most of the real work is being done by you and your dead mum and your dead nan. And they are lovely people. Don’t misunderstand. But this is his job. Not the job of the dead.”

  “As a demonologist, yes, this is my job, too. Every single member of the College of Evocation has the same responsibility. None of us can walk away from a threat to the Balance. Defendere Velo. Defend the Veil.”

  “Well, in that case I’m glad I’m a bloody Traveler.”

  “This mean you’re done your exchange program and going home?”

  “Bloody Hell it does. I want to see this through. If nothing else, maybe it will keep me here long enough that Gregor changes his mind about that little trip to the Styx. Or long enough for you to teach me some binding rituals to keep him from making the jump.”

  “Or maybe the College will just deny his application for the Rank Two trial?”

  “We can hope.”

  I start going through my reports as Eric goes back to reviewing the security protocols. A few minutes later, Houston opens the office door and pokes his head in, laughing. “I thought you were working in here,” he says.

  “I am working!”

  “Why are you sending me Star Wars links?”

  “Why would I be sending you Star Wars links?”

  “I got a ping on my phone and I checked my email. Why are you sending me links to Darth Nihilus?”

  “The only Darth I know is named Vader.”

  “Houston, she’s been working on reports,” insists Eric. “I’ve been sitting right here.”

  Houston shows me his phone. It is open to the email, from my account, to a link to some site called Wookieepedia. Houston shows me the page about some character named Darth Nihilus. “Houston, you’re the geek. Not me. I only know Star Wars from the movies. Why would I send you a link like that? I wouldn’t even know a link like that existed!”

  “It’s from your account!”

  “Maybe it is some Technomancer you met on WitchNet having some fun with you.”

  “I don’t know any Technomancers.” He looks at his phone and scratches his head. “He’s the bad guy in Knights of the Old Republic II.”

  “That’s…nice.”

  “Check your email.”

  “It didn’t come from my account,” I say as I open my email account. There is an email in my account from Houston with the same link. “Now you are playing around!”

  “What?” he asks. I show him my monitor. “I didn’t send that!” He checks his phone. “Check your sent box.”

  I check my sent box to see an email to Houston, from me. With a link from the site. I immediately run my anti-virus software. “Some damn Technomancer playing around!” I exclaim. “You…you probably pissed one off with your co-op play. Did you kill someone in…what is that stupid game you are always cussing at?...Call of Duty?”

  “I don’t think this is a Technomancer, Nancy. Maybe it means something.”

  “This Star Wars stuff doesn’t mean anything to me!”

  Houston looks at his phone again. “Nihilus.” The chime rings to indicate someone has come into the store. “I’ll look into it,” he says as he leaves the office to go wait on the customer.

  I pick up the phone to call Archmage House, head of the Technomancer’s Guild in the area. I pause mid-dial and take a deep breath. I can’t prove it was a technomancer. And even if I could I don’t have a name. And if I call the Archmage over a harmless prank it will make me look petty.
So instead I go to their website and fill out the online form to file an inquiry to have someone look into it.

  I actually get a call from the Archmage personally an hour later; the benefits of being a Rank Two Demonologist. People fall over themselves to help you either out of respect for your position, or fear you will rain Hellfire down on them. He asks for permission to ghost into my computer to check for arcane residue. Ten minutes later, he creates a secure chat window on my computer and asks if I am alone. I tell Eric to leave the office and tell him yes.

  “Are you sure? Check the Veil,” he types. I activate my Third Eye incantation to make sure I don’t have otherworldly visitors. I confirm I am alone.

  “I found residue,” he types.

  “Can you identify who?” I type back.

  “It wasn’t a Technomancer. It was one of the Esteemed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I know the difference between one of my students and an Esteemed.”

  “I’m sorry, I just meant, are you sure the residue is from a...recent...visit? I had an Esteemed communicate with me during the Inquest into Houston’s mother. Could it be left over from that?’

  “No, the residue normally only lasts for a few hours. I believe the whole mess with the Inquest was months ago, wasn’t it?”

  “Seems like only yesterday. No way to know which one?”

  “Would it matter? The Esteemed only answer to the Nine and the Lord Advocates.”

  * * *

  I meet Lee for dinner before heading home. He tells me that his mother started yelling at him when he walked in the door because he forgot to call her last night to tell her he wasn’t coming home. Since the Brennons think Lee is their son, they worry that he might go back to doing drugs. So I can imagine him not coming home last night must have had them worried sick. But apparently when she learned he stayed at my house, she lit up like a Christmas tree and all was forgiven.

  It’s nice to know the Brennons like me.