Wanderers: Ragnarök

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Wanderers: Ragnarök Page 22

by Richard A Bamberg

“We’ll get right on it,” Cynthia said.

  I followed her into the office as Abigail gathered her purse and a shawl and headed up the stairs. I waited until Abigail was well out of earshot to ask, “What’s up with Abigail?”

  “What do you mean?” Cynthia asked running a box cutter through the tape binding the Federal Express box.

  “She didn’t ask anything about last night. I thought you and Cris told her about my being at the second murder site.”

  “No, I wanted to, but Cris talked me out of it,” Cynthia said.

  “Well, that’s a surprise.”

  She opened the box and then pulled the shipping invoice from the lid. “It shouldn’t be.”

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked.

  She unfolded the invoice while gazing at me. “Are you serious? That was before I even knew you knew…” she glanced toward the door, but Abigail was long gone. “Before I found out you know night magic. Why would I have told her you were there?”

  “But you told Cris you were going to tell her.”

  She stopped and stared at me. “You heard that? You were still out there when we found Marsha?”

  “I was only a few minutes ahead of you. You must have left the concert right after me.”

  “If you were still there, then why didn’t you say anything?” Cynthia asked.

  I shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how you’d respond. I thought I would be better off keeping my involvement quiet.”

  She frowned. “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  “It’s not that.” Hell, she had me. I shrugged. “Okay, maybe it is that, but I’ve only known you a few days. I opened up this morning, didn’t I?”

  She gave me a long considering examination. “I’m not sure. You said a lot more than you have, but you’re still holding back,” she said.

  From the front counter, another voice interrupted us. “Well, good morning. We were hoping we’d catch you here.”

  I turned to see Marian and her husband, Carl, standing at the counter. Not the two people I’d wanted to see most in this world. Cynthia felt much the same as her tone was cooler than I expected. “Marian. Carl. Good morning to you also. You just missed Abigail.”

  “That’s all right; we came to see you two,” Marian responded.

  “Us? Whatever for?” Cynthia asked.

  The couple walked around the counter and entered the office space.

  “Why wouldn’t we want to see Abigail’s apprentice and…you know, I’m just not sure how we should refer to you, Raphael,” Carl said.

  “Abigail’s employee would be appropriate,” I answered.

  “Nonsense. In our little community, we don’t have ‘employees.’ If you have the talent and are apprenticed to another, then you have a title, but if you’re not officially an apprentice then you are equal to the rest of us,” Carl added.

  “That’s not exactly correct,” Cynthia said. “The primary coven members are due more respect than the average neophyte.”

  I had to restrain my own reaction at Cynthia’s insinuation that I was a neophyte.

  “Ah, dear, you were always the formal one,” Marian said.

  “True, too true,” Carl agreed.

  “Marian, why were you looking for us?” Cynthia asked. I got the feeling she was trying to get the conversation away from herself.

  “We’re planning a little get-together tonight and we wanted to invite you,” Marian said.

  “A get-together?” Cynthia repeated.

  “Yes, you know,” Carl said. “We could introduce Raphael to a few select couples.”

  “Couples?” I asked.

  “Yes, dear boy, couples,” Marian said. She had one hand on Carl’s shoulder and his arm was around her waist. Something about their stance was suggestive but suggestive of what?

  Cynthia chilled. “I’m sure we won’t be available.”

  “Nonsense, Cynthia. Come on, it’ll be like old times,” Carl said and smiled far too aggressively. I felt like slapping his face, but getting in a rutting contest with the local top bull wouldn’t fit with my assumed persona.

  “Those times have passed, Carl,” Cynthia said.

  I looked from the couple to Cynthia. The skin of her face was tight. She was smiling, but like she was smiling to hide her real emotions. Then it hit me. Sometimes I can be terribly slow. The older man she’d been involved with was Carl. No wonder she’d been tense around him.

  “Are you sure, Cynthia? You know most of the couples who’ll be there,” Marian said.

  “No, I’m quite sure. I can’t speak for Rafe; he may find it entertaining,” Cynthia said with a glance at me.

  Marian tissed. “No, sorry, Raphael, not tonight. It’s a couples-only party,” Carl said. “Perhaps another time though.”

  “Yeah, sure. I understand,” I said.

  “Well, if you change your mind, Cynthia, it starts at eight.” Carl turned toward the door.

  Marian separated from him and stepped up to me. She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you won’t be there, Raphael, you’ll be missed. Both of you will be missed,” Marian added with a glance at Cynthia.

  Marian kissed me, not passionately, but full on the lips and even though I made no response, she held the kiss longer than was appropriate. She stepped back and winked. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Coming, Marian?” Carl said from the doorway.

  “Yes, darling,” Marian said. She eyed Cynthia one more time and then joined her husband.

  I listened until I heard the front door shut and then turned to Cynthia.

  She was staring at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You slept with her.”

  “Ah.” Well, yeah, I should have seen that coming. Cynthia wouldn’t believe a lie, that much was obvious from her pursed lips, her arms crossed under her breasts, and her weight resting mostly on her back leg. Boy, did she have the attitude down pat. “Okay, yes, but I can explain.”

  Cynthia stared at me for another moment or three and then turned away and picked the invoice back up. “Who you sleep with is your business.”

  The only thing more of a puzzle to me than women is Wiccan women. “Cynthia, at least give me a chance to explain. It’s not what you think.”

  She kept her back to me as she spoke, “It really makes no difference to me. You’re under no obligations to me...even if I did heal your body last night.”

  “Cynthia, please.” I moved to her and grasped her shoulders. I tried to turn her. She resisted at first, but then let me pull her around. She lowered her face. I placed a hand under her chin and raised her head until our eyes met. Hers were shiny with dampness. Her fingers were laced together over her breasts in a defensive posture.

  “I know Marian can be persuasive, and she’s definitely attractive. You don’t have to explain. I am curious as to when you found the time. You were with me at the party and last night we slept together. When did you have time to screw that witch?”

  Ouch.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I protested.

  “So, it wasn’t after you abandoned me at the concert last night, there wasn’t time before I found you in Cris’s bath. And we were together after the party...yesterday morning. You went out for a ride and were late getting back for the trip to the police station.” Her eyes widened

  Before I could stop her, Cynthia shoved me backward with both hands. I staggered into the desk and caught the edge to keep from falling.

  “You asshole! You go out and screw that bitch and then come back and take me for a ride. Well, you certainly took me for a ride; it’ll be the last ride you get from me. I should have known better, but you’re an excellent liar. I’ll bet everything else you told me today has been a lie.”

  “Damn it, Cynthia, give me a minute to explain,” I said.

  “I don’t want to hear how she lured you into her bed against your will. You knew what you were doing. There you were sniffing around me as if I were the only thing you wanted and
all the time you’ve already been sleeping with her.”

  “Stop it!” I shouted.

  She hesitated, but her face did not soften. “Why should I?”

  “Because she doped me with a lust potion.”

  Cynthia blinked and her mouth came open, and then shut again. A few seconds passed and then she said, “Not even Marian would do that.”

  “Are you so sure? Because I’ll tell you, I have no reason to make up such a story.”

  “Why would Marian—”

  “Because I’d turned her down,” I interrupted.

  Surprise colored her features and she made the fish movements with her mouth again. “You turned her down?”

  “Yes, I know you think I’m some kind of lecherous hound dog, but I’m not really. I figured sleeping with her would get back to you quicker than a cheetah after a gazelle.”

  Cynthia frowned. “And that’s the only reason you turned her down?”

  I stepped close and reached for her. She slapped my hands away.

  “Prove it,” she demanded.

  “How am I going to prove it?” I whined, undignified, yes I know, but I needed her on my side.

  “Think of something.”

  “Don’t you believe me?”

  She poked me in the sternum with a stiff index finger. “You made a lot of claims this morning, but being a boy scout wasn’t one of them. You’ve lied to Abigail and me since you got here. Now you’re going to have to prove this claim if you want me to trust you.”

  “How ‘bout we call Cris,” I suggested. “She can read me and tell you whether I’m telling the truth or not.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Ain’t happening. She already vouched for you, and yet hasn’t been forthcoming with anything concrete. I get the feeling she’s working with you on some kind of scam.”

  “Surely you don’t suspect your own cousin in these murders?”

  “Not the murders, but you two are up to something. No, you’re going to have to prove Marion doped you before we go any further.”

  “If not Cris, then how—”

  “I can make a truth potion.”

  I frowned and put on my best “thinking it over” face. There was nothing safe about taking a truth potion. I could try to handle it as I had Marian’s lust potion, but truth-telling is significantly different than lust. Marian’s potion activated hormones and lower brain functions that stimulate desire. Truth came from the higher mind, the same portion of myself that I isolated from Marian’s lust potion. This could go south in a hurry. I spent a few moments mulling my options; I didn’t see another way to keep Cynthia on my side. Well, if worse came to worst, I could nullify her potion and tell her I changed my mind.

  “Okay, bring on your potion. I’m game.”

  Without another word, Cynthia left the office, heading for the kitchen. I followed and then watched as she took out a saucepan and placed it on the small stove. She lit the gas burner and then proceeded to search the cabinets for ingredients. In less than five minutes, she was blending the ingredients in the pan. Impressively, she was mixing the potion from memory. Was that due to a good memory for potions or was it one she’d used often?

  When the potion was complete and at a rolling boil, Cynthia spoke the activation spell. I felt a small charge of energy leap from her to the pan. The potion glowed for an instant, and then the light faded away. Cynthia turned off the burner and transferred a few ounces of the potion to a coffee cup. She held it out, handle first, toward me.

  I leaned over the cup and sniffed. It smelled about as foul as I expected. I wasn’t that familiar with potions and could never have done this one from memory, but the smell felt right. I raised my gaze to hers. “Are you sure you won’t just take my word for it?”

  Cynthia pursed her lips and her right foot tapped the floor.

  I took the mug. It was hot. I concentrated for a moment and lowered the temperature to a drinkable level. Giving Cynthia a last questioning look, I raised the cup to my lips and drank the entire contents.

  The potion took effect immediately. I felt the spell circle through my consciousness like birds of prey above a meal. As it wove itself into my will, I felt any desire to hide my truths from Cynthia fade away. Even my concern of revealing myself misted into vapor. I wondered why I had wanted to block her potion in the first place. I was relaxed, without care, save for the desire to please Cynthia.

  “Rafe? Has the potion taken effect?” Cynthia asked.

  I stared at her. “Potion? Yes, I drank a potion, didn’t I? I think it’s working.”

  “Why aren’t you certain?”

  “I forgot what the potion was supposed to do,” I said.

  “That’s not important. Forget about it,” she said.

  “As you wish.”

  “Rafe, what’s your name?”

  “I thought you knew. It’s Raphael A. Semmes.”

  “And what’s the A for?”

  “Alain,” I said.

  “Rafe. Did you have sex with Marian?” Cynthia asked.

  I grinned wide. “Boy did I! Damn near killed me. That woman—”

  “Stop, I don’t want to hear anymore.”

  “As you wish,” I said, trying to be helpful.

  “Did you have sex with her willingly?” Cynthia asked.

  “Yes, very much so,” I said.

  Cynthia frowned. She stepped closer to me and I felt the tension in her body. What had I done? I didn’t want to upset her. I wanted to please her.

  “Then you lied when you told me she gave you a lust potion?” Cynthia asked.

  “I didn’t lie. She put a potion in my coffee. It was a lust potion.”

  She started. After a moment, she stepped closer until her nose was just inches from my chin. I stared down into her eyes and wanted to kiss her.

  “Then why did you just say you had sex with her willingly?”

  “Because I did.” What part was she misunderstanding? If she’d just explain what she wanted, I’d be happy to help.

  “Look, stupid, if you told her no and then she gave you a potion to make you want sex with her, how could it have been willing?”

  I choked back a lump in my throat. Why was she upset with me? I was answering her questions. “I’m sorry you don’t understand, but that’s what happened. When I resisted her overt attempt to seduce me, she doped my coffee with a potion. Then we had sex.”

  “Damnit, you’re not making any sense. How could you have willing sex with her if she doped you to make you?”

  “Oh, I could have blocked the potion. That was no problem. Since I didn’t block it, the sex was willing.”

  “Excuse me? You could have blocked the potion? What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t know what kind of potion she was giving me, but my ward detected it and rather than let her know about me I drank it anyway.”

  “You knew she was giving you a potion in your drink and you took it anyway because you could block it?” Cynthia asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  She tilted her head and took a step back. “That’s pretty advanced. Your mentor taught you that trick?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know those girls would be killed?” Cynthia asked.

  “No, if I had known, I would have prevented their deaths.”

  “And you had nothing to do with their deaths?”

  “Absolutely not. I had no reason to wish them harm,” I said.

  “Rafe, you concern me. You know more than you’re telling. You haven’t been very truthful with me up to now, but yet you let me use a truth potion on you. Could you have blocked my potion?”

  “Yes, but I reasoned you’d know if I did.”

  “About the girls, do you know who killed them?”

  “No,” I said.

  Cynthia raised a palm to my cheek. The contact point warmed. I must have finally pleased her. I smiled, leaned forward just a bit, and waited for her kiss.

  “Rafe, should I trust you?” Cynthia asked.
r />   “Certainly not.”

  She jerked her hand away and stepped back. “What? Why not?”

  “Because I will lie to you,” I said. Her reaction disturbed me. I’d hurt her. I didn’t want to hurt her; I wanted to please her.

  “But…I don’t understand. Cris trusts you, but you say you’d lie to me. You wouldn’t hurt me would you?”

  “Not unless I have to,” I said.

  Her face twisted and I felt my stomach roll. I’d hurt her; I wouldn’t have said it if it weren't true, but that wasn’t what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to please her. What was wrong with me? I shouldn’t be hurting Cynthia. I had to stop this. “That’s not going to happen. You wouldn’t try to stop me so you’re safe. There’s no reason to hurt you.”

  “To stop you? You’d hurt anyone who tries to stop you?”

  “Hurt or kill,” I said.

  “Kill who?” a woman’s voice asked.

  Cynthia and I each turned toward the voice. Special Agent Biers stood in the kitchen doorway.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Whomever,” I said.

  “What?” Biers said.

  Cynthia took my hand in hers and squeezed. “Don’t tease the woman with the gun, Rafe. It’s not polite.”

  “No, let him talk. What do you mean by ‘whomever?’” Biers asked.

  Now I was confused. I wanted to please Cynthia, but Biers was asking the questions. Did Cynthia not want me to answer the agent’s question? I was the confused one, not Biers. Why was that? Why couldn’t I think clearly? I felt threatened. I wasn’t supposed to feel confused or threatened. Something was wrong. Finally, I remembered the potion I’d accepted from Cynthia. She gave me a potion that was affecting my ability to think. What had it been? A lust potion? No, that was what Marian had given me. Then what? I had it. I’d agreed to take a truth potion. That was what had my mind so confused. I had to act, had to do something to jolt my thoughts.

  With the hand I held, I twirled Cynthia around and jerked her to me. I grasped her other hand in mine and kissed her passionately. She struggled and after a few seconds I released both her hands and let her pull away. Her eyes blazed.

  Then her palm came from out of nowhere and slapped me across the face.

  I winced and backed away as I placed a hand against my injured cheek. Adrenalin coursed through me and in a second, I felt the control of her potion loosen. As it left, it took the memory of all her questions with it. Days later, the memories gradually returned, but for the moment I couldn’t recall anything from the time I’d drunk the potion to my hearing Biers and Cynthia talking while my cheek stun from an obvious slap.

 

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