ENTANGLED
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More and more of her profession were being accepted by society. It would be much easier if certain members of the Senate were more cooperative. The roadblocks one particular Senator put into place made practicing her profession difficult. If she ever met Senator Gargoyle...
“I’ll need half of you out of here,” Jenna said to the cluster of four men and two women in the room. To avoid the onslaught of reporters, they were assembled in Judge Warren’s chambers on a Sunday morning. The courthouse was nearly empty. The press knew about the upcoming transformation. They just hadn’t been informed of the exact time and location. Her boss, Desmond Lazlo, planned to schedule a news conference later today.
Those present included Judge Sheila Warren, her clerk, District Attorney Martin Donaldson, a court reporter, whose name she never caught and who was equipped with a video set up, and two members of Senator Dobrowski’s staff. At least this Senator was a staunch advocate of the legalization of Practitioners and wanted to witness this magical transformation.
Unfortunately, he was out of the country and sent Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum in his stead. Grateful as Jenna was for the Senator’s support in passing the bill legalizing her profession, she didn’t need an audience for what she knew was going to be an arduous undertaking.
She’d painstakingly studied the spell. Knew the process. All Hallow’s Eve or no, she also knew the tremendous amount of magic she needed to draw in order to make it work. A lot was at stake. Any number of things could go wrong. The least would be no change at all. Another scenario could have Jessica end up partially transformed. Half woman, half cat. Not good. At the very worse, she could be killed. That was something Jenna wanted to avoid at all costs.
There were so many factors, possibilities and unknowns. If Jenna had any doubts in her ability, she would never attempt this spell. But she knew her strength and had confidence she could perform the transformation.
Stuffing any lingering doubts down a dark hole, Jenna looked at the still-hovering people. No one had moved.
“I’m going to need 100% of my concentration here. I can’t have too many people nearby. If I’m distracted at the wrong moment, even for an instant, I can lose control and blow this whole thing.”
“Do you doubt your ability?” Judge Warren asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because if you do, now is the time to let us know.”
She was maybe in her mid-fifties; a large woman, yet physically fit. The blue dress she wore was simple, yet elegant. Her pale blond hair was drawn back in a tight roll, but a few tendrils were escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were tired, but sharp.
Jenna knew the judge still had a few qualms about this whole thing, which is why she insisted on being present. District Attorney Donaldson, she suspected, was here out of curiosity, and the court reporter was present to record the entire thing. Jenna wasn’t too sure about that, but couldn’t think of any valid reason to nix it.
“No, I don’t doubt my ability.” Jenna straightened her shoulders and firmed her stance. “I’m more concerned with Jessica’s safety than providing entertainment.”
Which is what she figured the District Attorney was expecting. Jenna knew he really didn’t believe in her abilities. Nor did he have any care for the welfare of Jessica Mansfield. The man hadn’t bothered to attend any of the meetings or court hearings. He had his ADAs monitor the proceedings and only came into the picture when it appeared advantageous. He was up for re-election and had to put in a good showing. At least pretend concern. She knew he intended to be a major part of the news conference Desmond was setting up. One phone call to the local networks and he’d have a media circus at his fingertips.
Jenna shook her head as she kicked off her shoes and dug her bare toes into the thick carpeting. The office was huge, luxurious. The furniture was nondescript and looked to be well used. Files were strewn on every surface and a high tech computer occupied the credenza rather than the desk. At Jenna’s request, most of the lights were off, flood lights from the video recorder providing most of the illumination. It was still too bright in her opinion, but she’d been out voted.
She looked at the Senator’s staff members and the clerk. “You three. Out. Senator Dobrowski will get a copy of the video. Your presence will be a distraction.”
The two men protested but Judge Warren cut them off and tossed them out. Same with her clerk. “Go home, Tammy, I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”
Well, that took care of half the audience. Jenna twisted her neck to loosen up the muscles and tried to make herself relax. She couldn’t screw this up. Too much hinged on her success. She was getting paid spit for it, but this act could net her the next level in her profession. A couple of more successful major jobs like this and soon she’d be able to test for her master’s level.
Her boss, Desmond Lazlo, had assured her that this transformation would not only lend credibility to their profession, but the exposure would be terrific for the firm. Already they were getting dozens of calls from potential clients. Just on the publicity alone.
Jenna glanced around the room, noting that the court reporter was positioned in one corner to cover the entire room, and therefore out of the way. Good. Judge Warren and Mr. Donaldson loomed far too close. The last thing she needed was for the magic to overspill and affect one or the other in some adverse way. The thought made a brief smile curve her lips before she disciplined her expression. Judge Warren she liked. Donaldson was a pain in the ass, but it wouldn’t do her reputation any good to accidently change him into a toad – though from what she heard, many who knew him would privately rejoice. Jenna had a vision of dozens of ADAs doing a conga line through the courthouse.
With an effort, she buried her humor. Now was not the time to indulge in fantasies.
“Can you take a seat, stand by the desk or whatever? I need room to work,” she said as she crossed to a small conference table and pulled out two plush chairs, positioning them across from each other. Without waiting to see if the judge and D.A. followed her order, she gestured to Jessica standing in the middle of the room, her shoulders slightly hunched, arms crossed, hands clasping her elbows as if cold.
“Have a seat, Jessica.”
Jenna waited until Jessica was comfortable before she took the seat across from her. Reaching out, she held her hands palms up. After a second, Jessica placed her smaller hands in hers. Glancing at the court reporter, Jenna gave a nod to indicate she was ready to begin. There was a click and the recorder was running.
Jenna again wished she could veto that, but the D.A. had insisted. With her luck it would end up on YouTube as some sort of freak show. Granted, good publicity, but still... It felt like a violation. As if she were about to expose part of her soul to the world.
“Jessica? You have absolutely no doubt that you wish to be magically transformed into a feline.” She said this mostly for the taping. Although the legal end of the proceedings was covered and the papers signed, she still wanted verification on the record. The was NOT going to come back in the future to bite her in the butt.
“Yes.” Jessica straightened her shoulders, her chin held high, renewed confidence in every inch of her posture.
Jenna searched her face for a long moment, but there was no hesitation. No doubt clouding her clear green eyes.
“You will be changed into a common house cat but with the normal life expectancy of the human you once were.” Geez, talk about a nightmare. Cats were independent cusses to begin with. To have one that would virtually be with you the entire span of your life? Jenna suppressed a shudder.
“I understand.”
“You will be infused with the ability to communicate on a telepathic level so that if you should ever wish to be changed back into a woman, you will be able to express that desire.”
“I understand.”
“Do you also understand that even if you express a desire to be human again, it may be impossible to accomplish the transformation?”
“Wait! When did that come up?” th
e District Attorney burst out, taking a step forward.
Jenna noticed he made sure he was within the range of the video camera. She shot him an irritated glance. Now he was expressing concern? Dickhead. For an instant Jenna considered a mischievous little spell that would cause the D.A.’s clothes to vanish, but decided it wasn’t worth losing her lunch. She suspected the man had a habit of masking his physical inadequacies with bluster.
He flung out his arms, the gesture dramatic. “This poor woman should be guaranteed a reversal of her state should her situation prove intolerable.”
Jenna fought the urge to roll her eyes. She’d already pegged him for a glory hound. Now he was fast rising to the level of asshole.
“Try reading the final stipulation, Donaldson,” Judge Warren said. “Paragraph twenty-two. Ms. Carmichael made it very clear throughout these proceedings that although she was confident in her ability to perform the transformation, reversing it may be beyond her scope. That would be left to a Master should Ms. Mansfield change her mind.”
“I fully understand and accept the consequences of my decision, Mr. Donaldson,” Jessica added, her voice soft but resolute.
Jenna didn’t say anything, merely stared into Jessica’s eyes. After a lot of soul searching, she knew she’d be able to reverse the process, but deliberately failed to confirm it in writing. If Jessica knew the transformation was probably irreversible, she might have balked. But she didn’t. Which told Jenna that she was 100% committed.
“There are three masters,” Jenna said without turning her head. One would have thought District Attorney Donaldson would have gone over that stipulation with a fine tooth comb. But no, she doubted he even read it. “One right here in the City. Any one of them are powerful enough and should be capable of reversing my spell.”
“Continue, Ms. Carmichael,” Judge Warren instructed, giving the D.A. a hard stare that shut him up. Warren had been on the bench for better than twenty years while Donaldson had occupied his office for a mere three years. Her clout easily outweighed his.
He backed down with an angry growl, giving Jenna a filthy look. Nope, she hadn’t gained a friend there. Not a great loss as far as she was concerned.
“You understand all the ramifications and potential danger involved in this transformation?”
“I understand,” Jessica stated, her fingers steady in Jenna’s hands. “I’m prepared for this.”
“Good. Then let’s begin.”
Damned if she didn’t sound like a two-bit charlatan working out of her tent. All she needed was a peasant blouse, a gauzy skirt and tons of bling. The thought briefly amused her before she wiped it from her mind. She had to concentrate. Sink deep down into that well of power residing in her body, awaken it, draw it upward.
At first there was nothing, then her Talent sparked to life, eager to rise. It was a rush when the magic came to her call, a familiar joy that quickly turned into a struggle for control. Magic wasn’t a gentle science. It was more like catching a tiger by the tail and then hanging on—hoping it didn’t turn on you.
With care Jenna wove the power upward, taking it from her gut, winding up through her veins, concentrating to bring the magic to the desired peak. When she reached that point, she pushed harder, drawing more and more, her Talent beginning to siphon magic from her surroundings. It slipped over the nulls, finding little to feed it. It skipped over the electrical charges imbedded in the walls and equipment. Widening its search, the magic latched onto the power of the full moon. Though it was late afternoon, the full moon’s power flowed into Jenna. The thinning of the metaphysical veil created by the autumn solstice released even more magical power and her Talent greedily latched onto it. Building, building, building.
Her skin buzzed as if she’d stuck her finger into an electrical outlet, the sensation painful and blissful at the same time. It sank deeper and deeper into her bones.
She’d rarely harnessed this much energy. As if the tiger had been joined by fifty friends. It built to a crescendo, its power dancing along her nerve endings, ranging from the sweetest bliss to prickly pain, which quickly rose to agony. Her hands trembled and she tightened her grip on Jessica. The only sign of the strain that threatened to shatter her.
She knew no expression crossed her face. She’d mastered the art of concealing her emotions years ago while wielding her Talent. Nulls didn’t understand that the pain and the ecstasy were all part of it. Intertwined. A sort of yin and yang. More than once she’d had her concentration broken, with unfortunate results when someone, thinking she was in danger, grabbed her in the middle of a spell.
She ignored the people in the room. Ignored the camera recording her every move. Ignored everything but the woman seated before her. Jessica Mansfield, who watched her with hope and anticipation in her face.
“Is she doing anything?”
The words whispered along her subconscious.
“I don’t know. She’s just sitting there.”
No, the nulls would be unable to see the light flare out of her skin, bathing her with the soft glow of magic. A glow that increased with each heartbeat, pulsating brighter and brighter. She felt it dancing along her flesh, saw it flaring as her body absorbed the magnitude of magic needed to complete the transformation.
“I told you this was bullshit.” The harsh words came from the D.A. His voice was low, but louder. Jenna heard it plainly and despite her best efforts, it distracted her. That’s all it took. Anger sparked.
The magic threatened to swirl out of her control, whipping around her as if in punishment for her inattention. Renewed agony ignited her nerve endings, the sensation so intense it bordered on pleasure. Her eyes snapped shut and with grim determination she brought it back under control, expertly shaping it, directing it. Sweat broke out on her brow as new pain washed over her. Heat welled up in the pit of her stomach, almost sexual in nature.
“Either shut the hell up, or get out,” she growled without opening her eyes.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get yourself under control, Carmichael, she told herself. You’re not a newbie. The amount of magic she was handling was enormous. Way beyond anything she’d attempted before. It fought her. Enticed her. Threatened to scour her clean. Seduced her.
It was a balance of power that could swing either way.
Chapter Two
Desmond Lazlo straightened his already immaculate suit, buttoning and then unbuttoning the jacket as he tried to decide which looked more professional. His slicked back hair was combed through with nervous fingers as he began to pace in front of a podium positioned in the courthouse rotunda. His heels made a hollow clicking in the nearly empty chamber, the marble floor and the high ceilings throwing the echoes back at him. He pulled at his suit jacket again, shrugging to ease the tension in his shoulders.
This had to be perfect. This transformation that Jenna Carmichael was attempting had to work. So much hinged on it. If it went bad, the publicity could be ruinous. Though he could always place the blame on Jenna. Claim she was incompetent. No reflection on his own abilities. But, if it worked...hell, the sky was the limit. He would have clients flocking to Lazlo & Associates. He could charge any fee he wanted and the suckers would pay it.
Rubbing his hands together, he paused behind the podium, imagining himself addressing the mass of reporters who would be arriving in a couple of hours when he and Donaldson announced the results of turning Jessica Mansfield into a cat.
Shit. A cat of all things. What the hell was Jenna thinking? Still, if that crackpot insisted she should be a cat, then a cat she would be. Transforming a woman into a man was far simpler and probably something he could have assigned to Thomas. The man was capable enough. But when it came to changing a species, Jenna Carmichael was the woman to do it. Her Talent level reached a near seven and with this job, would rise to a probable eight or nine. Way too close to the level where she could test for her next step towards Master.
Desmond grimaced. Jenna Carmichael was his star Practitioner. If she ga
ined her Master level, he’d lose her and he couldn’t have that.
No, the spell of this magnitude would most likely knock her out for a few days. During that time, he had every intention of finding a way to grab most of the credit. Wouldn’t be the first time. Once the press had the story of how he’d spearheaded the transformation, it would be too late for Jenna to have it retracted. The only worrisome factor in that plan was the video tape. Something had to be done about that. He had no intention of Jenna taking all the glory. He’d have to get Donaldson to do something about it.
Between District Attorney Donaldson and himself, they’d make sure they both looked like heroes. It would take a few days for Jessica Mansfield to acclimate herself to her new form, so she won’t make a fuss. Judge Warren, on the other hand, might be a bit of a problem. Just in case, Desmond had a spell that would make her fuzzy on certain facts and agreeable to simple suggestions. Illegal to do, but who was going to report him? Not Donaldson. The D.A. had his own agenda.
Placing his hands on either side of the podium, Desmond leaned forward, mentally rehearsing what he would say and practicing expressions of concern, pleasure and triumph. Damn, maybe he should have written things down on note cards, but in his opinion, that always looked unprofessional. No, he’d speak from the heart.