ENTANGLED
Page 29
“Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” he began as he practiced a smile that he knew was both confident and reassuring. No, he should appear victorious. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that the transformation was a success—”
“Dessie?”
The quivering feminine voice came from directly behind him, making him jump, the smile freezing on his face. Damn, that woman had bad timing. Forming a scowl of displeasure, Desmond turned, the vicious words on his tongue forgotten as he saw the man standing just behind his assistant. Despite her four inch heels, Candy was diminished by the tall, stocky man who had one arm around her throat and a gun pointed at her head. His dirty blond hair was long enough to fall to his shoulders, as unkempt as the rest of him. A flannel shirt hung open over a black t-shirt and faded jeans hung low on his lean hips. Desmond noticed that he was powerfully built, wide at the shoulders, the muscles in his arms pressing against the flannel material where he held Candy.
“Dessie. Please. Help me. Use your magic.”
“Shut up, bitch,” the man’s voice was a low growl as he tightened his hold. Candy grasped his arm, struggling for breath. Her carefully arranged blond curls cascaded down either side of her reddened face, her low cut shirt pulled askew to show a good portion of her breast. The short red skirt nearly rode up past her privates.
With an effort, Desmond began to build his meager Talent. Maybe he could distract the guy into looking the other way while he made a break for it.
“Look, mister. I don’t know what this is all about...”
“Cut the shit. Where’s Jessie?”
“Jessie?”
“My girl, Jessie Jewels.”
“I beg your pardon? I don’t believe I know...”
“I think he means Jessica Mansfield, Dessie,” Candy choked out, the tears streaming down her face, her mascara creating a ghoulish mask around her eyes and down her cheeks.
“Whatever she’s calling herself. She’s one of my best girls and there ain’t no way in hell she’s gonna become a fuckin’ cat. I own her ass.”
“One of your girls?”
“She works for me. Does the Mason Avenue stretch. Best bitch I got.”
It slowly began to dawn on Desmond what the man was talking about. Jessica Mansfield was a call girl? A prostitute? Shit! If the press got wind of that...oh, Christ, that would destroy the firm. They’d be the laughing stock of the Practitioner world. His reputation would be shredded and coughed up like a...a hairball!
For a moment, Desmond couldn’t think straight. All else—the weeping Candy, the crazy guy waving a gun—everything faded as he watched his business crumble to dust. By a prostitute of all things.
“No,” he whispered. “No. She cannot be transformed.”
That was it. If Jessica Mansfield was never transformed into a cat, then there was no reflection on him or his firm. If Jenna was unable to do it, then it was no real loss. The whole process was iffy to begin with. The woman would vanish into the underworld she emerged from and the press would be given a statement that the transformation was unsuccessful and Jessica Mansfield was returning to her mundane little life.
Yeah, that would work.
“That’s what I been sayin’, asshole.”
Desmond looked at him. As a precaution, he used his meager Talent to assess the man’s aura. A null. Completely without Talent. No danger to him. Other than the gun, of course.
“Who are you?”
“Just call me Floyd. That’s all you need to know.”
“Come with me, Floyd. We can still stop this.”
“Don’t you pull no shit on me, asshole.”
“No shit, Floyd. Let Candy go. I’m just as interested as keeping Jessica from becoming a cat as you are.”
The big man eyed Desmond for several long moments, his dark eyes assessing. He must have seen something in his face, because he released Candy, giving her a rough shove toward Desmond. Stumbling, Candy gave a cry and threw herself into Desmond’s arms. He thrust her to one side without taking his gaze from Floyd.
“Go home, Candy.” He didn’t want her around as a witness. This way she couldn’t repeat anything to the press. She wasn’t smart enough to keep her mouth shut.
“But, baby...”
“Get out of here, Candy,” he gave her firm push. Christ, she looked like shit. She wasn’t an attractive crier. Her face was a mottled red, her mascara streaked down her face and snot ran from her nose.
Candy stumbled back a couple of feet, swiping her nose with the back of her hand. She stared at him for a second, swung her glance toward Floyd and then turned and tottered off on her high heels. She made amazing speed considering the height of those heels. She vanished around the corner without a backward glance.
Perhaps she wasn’t as clueless as he thought.
“Come with me, Floyd. This is what you’re going to do.”
Chapter Three
Sharpening her focus, Jenna harnessed the magic, feeding it with the extra power that the full moon provided by All Hallow’s Night. The degree of Talent she wielded made her feel powerful and humble at the same time. In that instant, she understood why Practitioners of the past felt so superior to the magicless nulls who ruled this world. Without this power, they were nothing. Mere insects before the superior Talent of the Practitioner. Hardly worthy of notice.
Horrified at where her thoughts were taking her, Jenna had to shake off the sense of superiority. It was wrong. It was the seductive whisper of black magic, of the power it could give her that led her in that dark direction. It wasn’t who and what she was.
Firmly grounding herself, she wrestled the magic into line, molding it as she prepared to release it into Jessica Mansfield. With care, she pictured a sleek black cat in her mind. An image that fit the woman before her. Green eyes, midnight black fur, a sinuous body.
Taking a deep breath, Jenna began releasing the magic, directing it into the woman seated before her. Big green eyes widened as the first streams wove around Jessica. A light appeared around the smaller woman, growing brighter and brighter until, to Jenna’s eyes she lit up with the power of a thousand incandescent bulbs. The streams moved, revolving around Jessica with ever increasing speed.
Jenna didn’t know what Jessica was feeling, but the woman abruptly stood and threw her head back with a gasp, her body going taut in either pain or ecstasy. Jenna kept a firm grip on her hands, standing with her as she poured more and more power into her, never breaking eye contact.
The swirling lights flared brighter, new colors appearing, spinning around her body before diving into Jessica’s flesh. Jenna squinted against its illumination, her world narrowing, her entire concentration on the transformation. It was working. Jessica’s form began shrinking, her clothes going loose and falling away. Her face narrowed, pushed outward into a muzzle, her eyes slanting upward...
Then the unthinkable happened. There were shouts from the direction of the door, a gunshot. Jessica jerked violently, her hands (paws?) breaking contact with Jenna. The carefully harnessed power was snatched from Jenna’s grasp and flared out of control. The streams of lights began shooting around the room, searching for a target, the magic growing to incredible proportions. Beyond anything she’d seen before.
God, what would it do?
Frantically, Jenna tried to recapture the power, throwing her arms wide in an effort to make herself the target. A portal to absorb the magic. An unseen wind sprang up, causing her hair to fly across her face, blinding her for endless seconds before she was flung off her feet. She hit the floor with a force that left her gasping, but she continued her efforts to channel the magic back into her body. The strands of light resisted her efforts, flowing in all directions, brighter and brighter. Files scattered, sheets of paper snatched up on the unseen power to whirl around in a tornado spiral.
Struggling to her feet, Jenna turned to see what had caused the disruption. She had to sweep her hand across her face to push her hair out of her eyes. A huge man stood i
nside the doorway, dark hair slicked back, eyes dilated and wild. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and carried a deadly accessory. A gun, pointed upward before he swung it around the room.
Stopping when he spied Jessica.
The magic chose that instant to buffet Jenna, the light blinding her and throwing her to the ground.
“You fucking bitch!” His roar nearing Jessica, his heavy feet thudding on the carpet toward Jenna. “You’re one of my girls. I own your fuckin’ ass and damn if you’re gonna get away this easily.”
“Floyd.” The word came out almost incoherent, a high-pitched mew of sound.
The words didn’t make sense to Jenna. Not at first, but then they began to sink in. Still on her knees, she glanced toward Jessica, but all she could see were the lights. Then the magic abruptly swelled. Whipping out of her control, it crackled with power, eager to engulf something. Anything. The magnitude of the power was incredible, searing her nerve endings, threatening to scour her clean.
She heard Jessica scream. A yowl of pain and fear.
Jenna again fought for control, wrestling with the magic as if it were a live entity. Every time she thought she caught it, it slipped from her grasp. Building. Building until she should burst with the magnitude of power she wrestled. Never had she felt such strength. The sensation was a sword’s edge between pain and ecstasy.
Then, suddenly it was gone. Vanished.
Jenna reeled. It felt like a snapped rubber band, only a million times worse. The backlash caught her and again flung her to the ground. She hit the carpet with a force that knocked all the air out of her. Colors of blue, red and purple flashed across her vision before she blacked out.
When she came to, she was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Spots with the residue of the last colors she’d seen danced in front of her eyes, fading in and out as her body decided whether to stay conscious or not. Breathing was an effort, and her stomach wanted to empty itself. All in all, she felt like shit.
It took several long minutes before her brain began to function beyond the pain that flayed every inch of her skin. Riding a fuzzy stream of events, she tried to reconstruct her last few minutes of consciousness. She remembered carefully building the power, shaping and controlling the magic as she constructed the spell. She remembered slowly releasing it into Jessica. She remembered the look of happy anticipation in Jessica’s green eyes as she began the transformation, her body shrinking, her face reshaping itself.
Then someone came bursting into the judge’s chambers, shouting, threatening, the sound of a gunshot.
Full consciousness crashed down on her and she gasped, panic threatening to close her throat. The magic! It had vanished.
“Where did it go?” she demanded, her voice a wheeze of sound. “Where did the magic go?”
It had to have gone somewhere. That much magic didn’t just peacefully dissipate. It had to have a target, something that would absorb it, use it.
Flopping over on her stomach Jenna tried to get her arms under her. Her first attempt was dismal, muscles flaccid and uncooperative, nearly landing her on her face. The second attempt was more successful as she levered herself up onto her elbows, raising her head far enough to look around.
On the ground, directly in front of her lay a cat. A beautiful cat. She was a huge calico, her tri-colored fur long and luxurious.
She was also unconscious. A breath escaped Jenna. This wasn’t the feline she envisioned when she was constructing the spell. She’d pictured a sleek black cat, yet here lay something entirely different.
“Jessica?” she whispered, reaching out a tentative hand. She touched the thick fur, dug her fingers into it, feeling the warmth beneath her fingertips. With relief she realized the cat was breathing, its side rising and falling with a steady rhythm.
“What the hell just happened?”
The words were hoarse, nearly incoherent. Jenna turned her head to see Judge Warren picking herself up from the floor. Her clothes looked scorched and her hair fell in wild waves around her shoulders. She didn’t appear injured, just shaken.
Jenna gave the cat one last swipe of her hand and then managed to push herself to her feet. She swayed for a minute before regaining her balance, pushing her own hair out of her face as she looked around. Donaldson was sitting on the floor, a dazed look on his fleshy face. His suit was a mess and there appeared to be a wet stain on the front of his trousers. The court reporter was also on her feet, but her face was pale and there was a scratch across one cheek. Jenna noticed that the video camera was on its side, but the light blinked red, indicating it was still operating.
The chairs she and Jessica had been sitting on were destroyed, two piles of kindling heaped on the carpet. Other than that and the mess of papers blown around, the office looked almost untouched.
The guy! The one Jessica called Floyd. He was the one who’d burst in waving a gun. Where the hell was he?
Jenna looked around, not seeing him. He’d been big enough. Sorta hard to miss.
A gun lay on the ground near the door.
Clothes were scattered everywhere.
A foot away from the gun lay the ugliest dog Jenna had ever seen. It was an abnormally large pug, enormous, its pale fur so short that it appeared nearly shorn. It lay on the ground, its sides heaving as it breathed with an audible sound. As Jenna watched, its eyes opened and it struggled to roll over onto its side. He, her mind supplied as she noticed the animal’s male package. He looked around in a dazed manner, its bug eyes seeming to see nothing.
“That’s Floyd.”
The voice sounded in her head, making Jenna grasp her head as a fresh wave of pain bombarded her. It took her a moment to recognize the voice. Jessica.
Jenna looked at the calico. The cat was lying on the carpet, but she had her paws under her, still looking shaken.
“What?”
'The dog. That’s Floyd. When the magic finished with me, it spun around the room until it found him. I could feel my transformation into a cat and my one thought was that Floyd had always been a dog.'
“You mean I just changed you into a cat and your what? Pimp? Into a dog?”
Jenna felt anger rising up in her, chasing out any lingering weakness. Christ! Had she just gone through all of this because Jessica Mansfield wanted to get away from her pimp? The woman was a prostitute? How the hell had she managed to conceal that throughout the legal wrangling that went on? She knew the investigator with the District Attorney’s office had done a thorough background check on Jessica, yet nothing had emerged to indicate she’d been anything but a regular, everyday clerk at a coffee shop.
'Yeah,' Jessica said, dropping her head between her front paws. If it were possible for a cat to look dejected, she did it. 'I’m sorry, Jenna. I couldn’t think of any other way to escape him. I really am a cat in a woman’s body. I didn’t lie about that. But I didn’t tell you about Floyd or about how he forced me to turn tricks for him at night.'
Jenna closed her eyes. What an unmitigated cluster-fuck.
“How the hell did he get in here?”
“Christ. You did it!”
The new voice had Jenna swiveling around and going into a defensive crouch. Desmond Lazlo stood inside the door, his gaze roaming over the chaos of the room, stopping at Jessica before moving onto the dog. “You transformed both of them.”
“This is not a good thing, Des,” Jenna said as she struggled to keep her feet. She swayed as a new bout of weakness swept over her. God, she’d overtaxed herself. Right now she probably couldn’t raise any magic if her life depended on it. Going on past experience when she’d overdone it, she probably had all of five minutes before she hit the floor again.
“But it is a good thing,” he shot back, sweeping his hand toward the pug. The animal... Floyd had gotten his feet under him, his bug eyes going from one human to the next, incomprehension in them. “At least now he can’t go to the press and reveal Jessica’s background. As far as they’re concerned, she’s a
coffee clerk.”
“You knew about that? You are such an asshole.” It also explained how Floyd had gotten into the Judge’s chambers. Jenna turned to Judge Warren who had come to stand next to Jenna. She had to get this out fast. She could feel the dizziness beginning to sweep over her. “We need to contact one of the Masters to fix this, Judge. I’m not sure what the magic did to that man. He may not be able to communicate as Jessica can.”
“Do something?” District Attorney Donaldson stepped forward, straightening his suit. There was little he could do about the wet stain on the front of his trousers and Jenna carefully avoided looking there. “That was Floyd Brannigan. He’s one of the biggest flesh traffickers in the city. But he’s always been careful. We’ve never been able to pin anything on him. As far as I’m concerned, justice has finally been served.”