by K. F. Breene
I hated that it was true.
“We may not be good at protection,” Mordecai said, “but we can help with customer service.”
I shook my head, but he wasn’t done.
“That stranger now knows you aren’t easy to manipulate. Not one on one, anyway. He also knows you have a soft spot for me. I don’t want to be kidnapped to bring you to heel. It would be safer for you to take us with you.”
I paused with my mouth forming the word “no.” I wasn’t sure the stranger knew the extent of my soft spot for my wards, but…he’d have some idea. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to put two and two together, and this stranger was by no means a fool. Still, kidnapping was a little extreme. A guy like the stranger, with looks, money, power, and sexy magic, wouldn’t stoop so low as to basically blackmail a woman into bed. Talk about a blow to his ego. The odds of that were nearly nonexistent.
Except…he did blast me with the sexy magic, so…
“Just don’t teach him how to easily manipulate me.” I blew out a breath. “But—” They stepped to either side of me, pushed my hand off the knob, and opened the door while knocking me to the side. “Hey. Freaking hell. Don’t mind me, I’m just standing here.”
“Come on,” Daisy shouted over her shoulder.
“Where are you guys going?” Frank stood in the center of my lawn, watching the kids head to the car parked at the curb. If only I’d had a garage to hide the thing.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Frank? Get off my lawn!” Shaking my head, I stomped down the pathway to the sidewalk and my waiting car. “You can come,” I told the kids, telling them something they already knew, “but you are to stick to the rear and keep your mouths closed, is that clear?”
“Where else am I going to go?” Frank asked as I brushed past him. “No one at home will talk to me.”
“You know where else you can go, Frank. And there’ll be plenty of people to talk to when you get there.” I walked around the hood of the car as I unlocked it.
“I’m not ready,” he called.
“That is so creepy.” Daisy shivered as she slid into the back seat.
“He doesn’t mean any harm.” I raised my voice so Frank would hear. “He’s just incredibly annoying and prone to constant trespassing.”
“Heartless,” I heard as I got into my seat.
“Daisy, I’ve picked up a very bad habit from you.” I put the keys in the ignition.
“It isn’t stealing, because you’ve tried that in the past and failed miserably at it,” she responded.
“I’m a good person, that’s why.” I showed her a sour face in the rearview mirror.
“That’s not nice,” Mordecai admonished.
“Well, since you mutinied and took over the leadership role on this ship, I’m allowed to be a brat. We’ll see how much you like taking the high road.” I turned the key as Frank drifted closer to the car.
He bent down to look in. “I’ll just stay here and wait for you to get back.”
I shook my head and stepped on the gas. “I might need to force Frank to leave. This is starting to get ridiculous.”
“Starting?” Daisy huffed.
“I picked up the eye rolling from you,” I told her, heading to the area of San Francisco with the heaviest foot traffic for all things magical. Strangely, it wasn’t in the magical district. Or even in the dual zone where we lived. It was in the non-magical tourist area, visited by solely non-magical folk who wanted to check out magical freaks and their crafts. Magical people had to get a permit to set up shop there, and we needed to re-register each year.
“Ah, crap. I should’ve told you guys you couldn’t come because you aren’t included in my permit.” I tapped the steering wheel in annoyance. “Missed opportunity.”
“Not really. The fact that you’re not turning around right now is indicative of how that argument would’ve gone.” Mordecai entwined his fingers in his lap.
I shot him a narrow-eyed glare. “Okay, Mr. Word-a-Day, tone it down with the adult shtick. Not even my mother sounded that educated.”
“That’s because she wasn’t,” Daisy said.
“I should drop you two off right here and make you walk back.”
“Then you’d be responsible for killing me,” Mordecai said. I noticed he hadn’t rushed to correct Daisy about my mother’s education.
I ground my teeth. “Oh, the regret I now have about bringing you lug nuts. Oh, the regret.”
He was right, of course, and we all knew it. The rule was one “stall” per permit, each stall being no more than a number on the pavement. As far as the officials were concerned, you could shove as many freaks as you wanted into the designated empty space.
I hated putting myself on display, another freak to amuse the masses, but I needed money.
It was time to take my magic into the public again.
16
Alexis
“He barely eyed your permit,” Daisy said in a hush as I rolled into the mostly empty parking lot, which would later be filled to the brim. It was the closest lot to the choice stalls. All the big players generally parked in this area.
All the big players, and me, who got to join them by virtue of not needing the cover of darkness for my craft and having absolutely nothing in the world better to do than show up before most of the patrons.
“I’m here every time I’m between jobs.” I drove to the first row and steered to the corner closet to the walkway. “They’ve seen me every few months, for about a month at a time, for the last…eight hundred million years. It’s only an issue when a new person comes on. Then it takes forever.”
The “reserved” paint on the first five spaces in each row had long since worn away. The city hadn’t bothered to repaint. They probably didn’t bother to give out reserved parking permits anymore, either.
It didn’t matter. Everyone knew those spots were taken by the biggest players, most of whom were non-magical assholes and their chained-up magical beasts. How else would the kiddies get to marvel at badly treated oddities?
I hated those bastards. And while I couldn’t help the magical beasts, I could sure as hell piss on their “owners’” parade. Because by the time they got here, the lot would be full, security would be on scene, and their formerly “reserved” spot would be taken. They’d have to head to one of the other lots, and anyone who had a mind for vengeance would be able to tell from the previous scratches on my car that keying it wouldn’t bother me at all.
I took turns taking each of their spots. It gave them something in common to bitch about.
The second space was empty, so I took that, next to a shiny black van with a graphic of a wand and a few stars in a circle. Spaces three through five were empty, and a handful of vans and trucks in decent condition had parked beyond them. The owners had most likely come in early and dropped off their vehicles, and their gear, so they’d get top placement.
“Did you two remember to grab a couple of chairs?” I asked as I took the rugs out of the back of the car. I knew they hadn’t.
Both of them stopped with their hands on the doors, staring at me.
I laughed. “Serves you right.”
“It’s fine. When you don’t have old bones, sitting on the ground is fine.” Daisy shrugged and swung her door shut.
“And I suppose that when you don’t have old bones, sitting on ground that was recently defecated on isn’t a big deal, either.”
They both paused again, and this time they exchanged a look. Then eyed the car.
“Can’t sit in the car. You might be kidnapped, remember?” I grinned.
With both kids reluctantly helping, I only had to make one trip to my favorite spot. I set my chair on the faded number fifteen.
“Why are we basically the only ones here?” Daisy looked down the strip of tarmac beside the wide, stain-spotted sidewalk. A few crews of people struggled with tents and other items, but it was still largely deserted. As I’d expected it would be this early. Cars crawled
past on the street beyond, fighting the constant traffic on the way to the busy tourist area. Only a few pieces of litter fluttered in the salty breeze coming from the bay behind us.
I glanced up at the white-blue sky, the fog trying to steal the show before the sun set. Then I turned toward the bay and looked out at the sparkling waters splashing against the man-made barriers intended to keep the boats safe in their slips. A massive naval ship jutted out in the distance, docked so tourists could check it out. A ways out, Alcatraz haunted the waters, visited by tourists who occasionally brought a spectral trespasser back to the mainland.
“Two reasons,” I said, setting up three TV trays that would act as a barrier for the clients. A normal vendor would have a table, and while I could’ve afforded a cheap one, I didn’t want people leaning on it and getting closer. Where they sat was close enough. “One is because the tourists like a bit of a scare, so they don’t typically come out until about dusk. And two, a lot of the magical people who set up shop here think the darkness brings out the ghosts and ghouls.”
“And it doesn’t?” Mordecai asked.
“No. They’re out all the time.”
“So why would they think it does?” Daisy asked, strangely giving me her undivided attention.
And then it dawned on me—the real reason they wanted to come with me.
“You two want to know how my magic works, don’t you?” I smiled to myself and shook my head. “You had me at ‘kidnap.’ Very clever.”
“Well, I mean, you do need us along.” Daisy straightened up in self-importance. “There’s that crazy-handsome stranger who gets the ol’ heart thumping and that you wouldn’t mind taking for a spin—”
I had definitely forgotten a few things from our sum-up chat after the bar last night.
“—who will be less likely to kidnap you or us if we all stick together. And then there is the reason you are not making money at this. Because Pippin the Hobbit looked it up, and for a Ghost Whisperer, we think you’re in the top tier. Those people make a lot of money. Like the ones who get jobs solving crimes for cops. The good ones make bank.”
“The good ones don’t have priors.”
“Told you that was why she didn’t get a job like that,” Mordecai mumbled, elbowing her.
She elbowed him back. “Okay, but you could rid places of paranormal activity.” She lifted her eyebrows at me. “Or hunt down loved ones and help them with the transition.”
“Only the best make money at those things,” I said, checking the arrangement of my furniture. I snatched up the roll of yellow tape and drew a line around the client chair. Then got to work taping down the scarves sectioning off my chair. Everything I put out was the bare minimum. I’d learned the hard way what was necessary.
“But you are the best,” Daisy said with absolute conviction.
“Only the best, and those with enough money and connections to get a business going. I don’t have either of those things. Most businesses take a loss for the first few years. Years. As the sole breadwinner, I don’t have that kind of time to work my butt off for no pay. I also don’t have any money to advertise with, or people skills to bamboozle patrons into hiring me. Or the desire to do this line of work in the first place.”
“I’m sensing a severe defeatist attitude,” Daisy mumbled out of the side of her mouth to Mordecai.
He nodded solemnly. “That’s the first thing we have to fix.”
“How?” she asked. “Hypnosis?”
“Do you think that’d be strong enough to override her personality?”
I sighed and grabbed the tarot deck before flinging it onto the middle rug-covered TV tray. Ignoring their muttering, I dropped the cracked crystal ball next it. It rolled a little before thankfully stopping. I didn’t feel like chasing it down the sidewalk like last time.
“I should have brought my clipboard.” Daisy clucked her tongue while looking over my setup. “I’ll need to take a gaggle of notes to figure out how to fix this situation, I can already tell. I mean, no part of this says ‘professional.’ Not one part.”
“A gaggle?” I chuckled. “And there is one part.” I pointed at my hair. “Very trendy.” I ran my hands over the rugs on the TV trays to make sure my magic was still firing. “There is no need to revamp. I’m not going to be doing this long enough to make a thing out of it. This will do for a couple weeks, hopefully less.” I did the same thing to the other two rugs I’d brought before throwing them at the kids. “Here. Sit on those. The clients can stew in their own…problems.”
I adjusted my chair so it was facing sideways, away from the kids, and finally took my seat. I stretched my legs and clasped my fingers behind my head before looking out over the water.
“What are you doing now?” Daisy asked.
“Waiting for my first patron. It’ll probably take a while. You might want to settle in.”
“Are you sure?” Mordecai asked softly. “Is…that guy…”
“That was fast,” Daisy said.
“What?” I asked, noticing a couple of people ambling along the sidewalk, none of them looking my way for too long. They either didn’t want to be seen at the freak show in broad daylight, or were legitimately trying to get somewhere and didn’t want me to think they were paying customers. Some of the stall owners yelled and jeered at passersby, trying to get business. It wasn’t a pretty sight.
“You the witch that sees dead people?” someone asked in an East Coast accent. A rough-looking man in his forties entered my peripheral vision before stopping in front of my TV trays, ignoring the chair two feet behind him. He put his hand on the middle TV tray, intending to lean over the divider and into my space, except my subtle defense system wobbled dangerously. He straightened up slowly, not happy his aggressive approach had been thwarted.
He was the pushy, bossy type who thought everyone was put on this earth to wait on him or steal from him. Or both…at the same time. That about summed up all of my bosses.
Three people waited at his back, an important-looking dude with a buzzcut and a stern face, and two slim guys in their thirties who looked like they needed a good meal.
I redirected my gaze out over the bay. “I’m not a witch.”
“Right, yeah. Whatever. You that broad?” The man shifted impatiently. “I was told to look for…this type of setup.”
“She’s that broad,” Daisy said. “The best there is. At your service—”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Sign me up,” he said. The client chair squeaked as the man sat.
I took a last glimpse at the calming water before turning my head in his direction. “Don’t you want to know the particulars? Like the services I perform and the amount I charge?”
“I know all that. A buddy used you a while back. I been wanderin’ around this spot looking for you, but you ain’t been on scene.”
He said it like an accusation. Him and me—we weren’t going to end up the best of friends.
I grumpily got up and moved my chair to face him. A couple more people were wandering along the sidewalk now, looking in my direction. They were interested in what I did.
Daisy clearly noticed it. “She needs a sign,” she whispered to Mordecai. “Or, like…a scarf on her head or something.”
“I don’t need a sign,” I said. “That just encourages people.”
“I don’t think she’d do well if she went into business for herself,” Mordecai whispered to Daisy.
“Understatement,” Daisy replied.
I clasped my hands in my lap so I didn’t bitch-slap someone, then calmly looked at the man in front of me. His shiny black hair was slicked back over his head and all the stubble had been cleared from his jaw. A crisp suit covered his stocky frame, bulging up over his belt, where I knew a gun probably lurked. His shiny gold watch screamed expensive, as did his gaudy cufflinks.
All of the glitz and shine didn’t detract from the overall feeling of roughness he exuded. If I had to guess, his profession was less than reputable.
The harsh set of his jaw, his permanently clenched fists, and the way he perched on the chair like he would shake my services out of me—they all told me he was someone I didn’t want hanging around for long. I’d end up like those poor sods shadowing him.
“What is it you want me to do?” I asked, though you didn’t have to be a genius to figure it out.
He braced his forearms on his knees, trying to cut down the distance between us. “My buddy said you are discreet.”
“Yeah. Though if a police officer asks me the right questions, I will answer.”
His gaze intensified. “What are the right questions?”
“The ones I can’t truthfully evade without going to jail.”
He leaned back now, his constant micro-movements indicating the restlessness of a guilty conscience. “How often you got cops asking around?”
“Never. But that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”
He squinted just a bit before glancing around my setup. He relaxed.
Apparently, he figured the police wouldn’t believe a person like me even if they questioned me. That, or his lawyer could easily discredit me.
Both were spot-on assessments.
“I need to get some weight off my back, if you know what I’m sayin’,” he said, then a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his features. “My buddy said you’d know what that meant.”
“Are you referring to the three ghosts standing behind you, or does this relate to a haunting of a specific location? Because I don’t travel.”
“Oh my God,” Daisy breathed, and then shivered.
The man in front of me tensed. He just barely kept from looking behind him, I could tell.
“It’s… I got…” He swallowed, and his eyes flicked to the kids at my left. “I feel this…weight…all the time,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. “But it ain’t guilt, because…you know…”
“That weight is the ghosts, and no, I don’t know how not to feel guilty when I kill someone.” I waited a beat and earned a flicker of annoyance. He’d definitely killed them, and definitely didn’t feel remorse. He was not a man to trifle with. “But you want them gone, yes? That’s why you’re here?”
