by Ross Homer
“Ms. Palmer?” She shook my hand. “I’m Doctor Telas. First off, I know you want to know how Elsa is. She will recover but it’s going to take a while. That she was athletic helped immensely with her surviving the wound to the chest. That bullet in the thigh came close to severing the femoral artery and I understand that you are the one to thank for putting the tourniquet on. It was good thinking. As for her side and chest. That was not good. The bullet entered her left side and traveled through her left lung and halfway through her heart. Her heart is the biggest concern, but she will heal.”
My heart was tripping over as if I’d been in a sprint. She watched me a second and then said, “Ms. Palmer, sit down. Do it now!”
Nissa helped me sit. Dr. Telas then sat beside me and took my hand for a moment. “It’ll be a few months, but she’ll be running again by this time next year for certain. In the meantime, rehab and physical therapy. It’ll be painful and she’ll be hard to get along with.”
I said, “Doctor, I can take anything she will dish out because I still have her. Like everybody, she has times when you don’t want to be around her. I will be there for her even through those. I’ve had PT and I know about the pain and the hard ass work that has to be done. She will do it because she’s a fighter.”
“Oh, I know that. She has to be a fighter to have lived through those injuries.” She let go of my hand, satisfied that I’d do exactly what I said.
Nissa interrupted, “Did you get the message about the bullets?”
“Yes,” she said. “They’re right here.”
I started to reach for the plastic evidence bag then caught myself. I would know who shot the love of my life and, like my reaction to Paula Smithson, it might be more than I could bear. I’d wait.
Nissa took the bag with the two bullets.
We talked longer and then thanked her. After a quick peak through the glass at Elsa in recovery, my heart broke seeing her like that. She had tubes and wires going to and from her body. Down her throat, in her nose, arms, and hands. More lines disappeared under the sheet covering her.
There were several electronic devices monitoring everything although we couldn’t hear any of it outside her room. A nurse was making notes on a chart. She smiled at us and then continued writing.
Nissa dragged me away. She said, “I wish Sissy were here. For Elsa, she’d give up some healing.”
“I have some healing ability and I used it on her.”
She held my hand and said, “So did I and I will again, just as soon as I can. We’ll be able to see her in a few days and help her.”
Nissa turned me to face her. She said earnestly, “Jo, I have to warn you about healing. Elsa can latch on to you and draw far more than you can safely give her almost before you can stop it. I know this for a fact because it happened to me not long ago. You can find yourself worse off than her. I will be there to help both of us help her, of course.”
I think I was in some kind of daze as we walked out of the hospital and into the parking garage. Completely at odds with our moods, the sun shone, and birds were happily chirping.
In the car I finally lost it all. Nissa didn’t leave the parking lot until I got myself back under control. But Elsa’s pale as death face kept reappearing in my mind’s eyes. The tubes. The slow beat of her heart showing on the heart monitor. And…how terribly low her blood pressure appeared to be. A fucking machine was keeping her alive! Yeah, I lost it again.
We sat there for a full half hour while I tried and failed several times to pull myself back under control.
Then the anger took hold. I looked over at Nissa and growled, “Let’s go home. I’m going to do something tonight that will either kill me or make me stronger. No! Do not try and talk me out if it because you’d be wasting your breath. It will not work. I will find out who shot Elsa and he will pay.”
She nodded and drove home. We said not a word to each other on the way. I cried a little more. I had decided that I was going to do something that the very thought of was frightening the hell out of me. But damnit…now it was either do or die.
When we walked into my house, I put my things down and then kissed Nissa. It was a hot, delicious kiss but that’s all it would be. I guess I wanted to create some kind of bond between us although I knew it wasn’t necessary.
Then I turned and went into the living room. I conjured up a glass of white wine. “You?” I asked Nissa who I think was still a little surprised at my temerity.
She walked over and sat on the couch. “Sure.”
One appeared on the coffee table in front of her.
“Let me talk,” I said. She nodded as she leaned back with her wine and took a delicate sip.
“Nissa, I am a witch. I come from a long, long line of witches. If I wanted to, I could ride a broomstick. I did once, just for the hell of it one Halloween. I am a very powerful witch…probably one of the most powerful in the Northwest for certain and possibly anywhere else you can think of. But there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Goddamnit! I’m fucking lazy! I have never used my full potential for anything! I use what I need to find people and things; for conjuring food and drink on occasion. I fool myself into thinking that if I conjure instead of buy, I’d be hurting working people, cutting into some store’s profits. That, of course, is pure bullshit. I’m lazy. Pure and simple. I’m lazy. That’s it. I get along or rather, Elsa and I get along with barely a minimum of magic from me.” I couldn’t help it. I felt tears welling up again.
The tears ran down my face and onto my shirt. “This house was given to me. That hot little car I drive was a reward for finding someone last year. I was driving a fifteen-year-old Ford before it. If I wanted too, I could put us in the most expensive penthouse in this damn city and both of us could be driving the latest, most expensive cars on this planet. But no. I don’t bother. Don’t interrupt. I’m getting to the point, Nissa.
“This house needs work. The wiring, the roof. I have a leaking skylight in the sunroom, believe it or not. This place could use a paint job, inside and out. I could go completely off grid and create the power this place needs. Everything!
“But I won’t because it takes a little extra work from me to stay on top of it.” I drained my glass. “That was until this afternoon and the woman I love more than my own life was almost taken away from me.”
I pointed at the bag containing the bullets Nissa was still holding. “It’s time for me to use what I have and stop this bullshit. I want the rings, too. I will find out who shot Elsa and murdered Paula. I am strong enough to handle the impact. Please, Nissa, would you bring the rings? Put them in that same bag.”
Her amazing gray eyes widened as her eyebrows shot up. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Jocelyn? Seriously? Out of your mind? I was with you when you handled just the rings.”
“No! I am perfectly sane, thank you very much. I was doing my usual half-assed witch shit and it got away from me. Not this time! Please…add the rings to that bag. I want all four pieces together, so I don’t have to split my attention.”
She stiffened up. “No. I will not be party to your insanity. I am so dreadfully sorry about what happened to Elsa, but she will recover.”
I was not kidding when I told Nissa I was a very powerful witch. In less than a blink, I had a female raven perched on the arm of the couch. I don’t know if ravens can look surprised but this one sure as hell did. She was also not pleased.
She flapped over to me, landed on the arm of my chair and squawked loudly, “Bitch! Turn me back. I’ll get the damn rings.”
Stroking her feathers, I said, “Y’know? I kinda like this look on you.”
Who knew that ravens could peck so hard? Glaring at her, I returned her to her normal, bitchy, Nissa self.
She shook herself and snarled, “Thanks, bitch. Where’s my clothes?”
“Why? I think you look pretty hot naked.” But after the scathing look she gave me, I gave her clothes back. I could have ju
st as easily covered her in feathers but decided not to. Besides her anger, I had a suspicion I’d need as much energy as I could muster and that reminded me that neither of us had eaten much of anything since the shooting.
While she was upstairs, I made, not conjured, spaghetti and defrosted leftover sauce from a week or so ago. I knew what I was going to do would require a lot of energy from me. Magic ain’t free, as the saying goes. The use of it must be paid for and that payment is energy. Ever see a fat witch? Nope. Ain’t gonna happen, either. No, it’s not why I didn’t do much other than my job. I said I was lazy, and I wasn’t kidding. No more.
When she returned with the rings, she came into the kitchen and stood silently watching me while I stirred the sauce. The air was rich with the delicious aroma of my grandmother’s ingredients.
Coming over to me, Nissa showed me the rings and the bullets. There were two simple silver and gold bands in the palm of her right hand. One was the engagement band with what I thought was about a carat diamond. The other was the wedding band. In her other hand was the evidence bag containing the two, 7.62x51mm bullets, that are generally associated with sniper rifles. She looked at them then went into the living room and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
She came back to me, put her hand on my shoulder and asked gently, “Jo, are you sure you want to do this?”
I tasted the sauce. Almost there. Facing her, I replied, “No, I’m not. And yes, I am. I want whoever shot Elsa and killed Paula Smithson. You and I are pretty sure we know who shot Elsa but Paula? We saw her head up in the mountains. Someone stomped her hard and she saw who it was.” I took a breath and then stated, “We will eat and then I will go hunting.”
I hugged her hard, as if my life depended on her. It may for all I knew. I couldn’t see the future. “Nissa, you have to be my lifeline.”
“I know, Jo, I know. I will be, too. Is the spaghetti ready because I’m starved?”
I took a noodle out of the pot and tested it. Okay. I slurped it down. “Yep. Set the table and I’ll drain this.”
We were like an old married couple, moving around the kitchen in perfect rhythm. We didn’t get in each other’s way. Exactly like Elsa and me. I stopped draining the noodles and inhaled a gasp. Goddamnit, she’d come home to me or I’d burn down whoever it was who put her in the hospital.
I ate like a starved dog. Maybe too much but I didn’t care. I needed to bring everything to the encounter tonight.
Dishes put away, glasses of wine in our hands, we returned to the living room and set hip-to-hip on the couch. It was an intimate position, but I knew in the back of my mind this was needed. If it had been Elsa, we’d have been naked. Skin to skin contact is preferable but this was going to have to do.
To use another old expression, it was time for me to shit or get off the pot. Now I was having second thoughts. Can I do what I want? Will I survive it with my mind intact? Hell, will it even work? I am good; very good, like I told Nissa. I’d never once turned anyone into something else but poof! She was a raven and then back to human a minute later. I knew it was going to work and it did. In fact, this might be something I could use in my business for surveillance. If I survived tonight, I’d do some reading up on it. Could I change myself? If so, how long would it hold and, of course, the energy cost. One of the things I can’t do is mess around with time. Or bring someone back from being dead. A goddess I ain’t.
Mostly what I was doing was avoidance.
I sipped my wine and then put it down.
It was time.
To add to the energy of this, I turned and kissed Nissa much like I had in the hallway. When I turned to reach for the rings and the bag, both of us were somewhat aroused.
She stopped me. “No! Let me put the rings in the bag and then it’s all yours. And…if you ever kiss me like that again, Jocelyn Parker, you damn well better be ready to go all the way.”
Smiling, she then kissed me lightly and then bent over and put the rings in the bag with the bullets.
“Here. Let’s do this.” She handed the bag to me.
Chapter 11
Before I took the evidence bag from her, I said, “Nissa, you are a telepath. You’ve been in my mind. I think I’d like you to be there this time, too. Ahh…just in case I need help.”
“I’d be glad to.”
She took my right hand as I reached for the bag; a simple clear, plastic, evidence bag containing two rings and the two slugs that had been removed from my lover.
“Ready?” she asked nervously.
I thought I was actually readier than she was.
“Yes,” I replied and took the bag.
Holy. Shit.
My world blew apart!
The couch was still under my butt. Nissa was still holding my hand. I could see my living room. But my mind was bombarded with overwhelming images and sensations. I fought the overload because I knew I could do this.
Nissa squeezing my hand as hard as she did, helped. I squeezed back to let her know I was still with her.
All kinds of sensations flooded unabated into my mind: images, sounds, and mental noise! Screams and yelling! Pain. Not overwhelming pain but I was there for too much of it…as if it were dimmed down.
Darkness came, too.
That was the worst. The black nothingness I felt.
Nissa’s voice came to me from far away. “Do you want to continue?”
I nodded.
Things slowly began to sort themselves out if you want to call it that. Then more bombardment!
I saw women. Ten of them? Twelve? More? Each begging and pleading as they were murdered after having been repeatedly kicked and punched. Some were in houses or apartments; a couple were outdoors.
I was seeing it through the victim’s eyes, those who were conscious until their deaths. Then two men. A gay couple were coldly executed in a parking lot.
We saw who was killing them.
If all that wasn’t shocking enough, we saw Bob’s wife screaming at him in her bathroom. She was naked and struggling. Fighting for her life! He had a handful of her hair, pulling her head back painfully and exposing her throat. I saw a straight razor descending towards her neck. I felt the cold steel against my own neck before we saw Paula in her kitchen.
We heard her screams and saw her trying to fend off the man hitting her. I felt the blow to her stomach that took her to the floor. I saw the bottom of his shoe before it all went black.
Then Elsa. Anger and hatred filled my nose with an unidentifiable stench as I saw her in the crosshairs of a scope. I felt the impact of the bullets!
Following this came such a flood of hatred so nasty that I heard Nissa gasp. They were images of me.
They were extremely intimate with undertones that were surprisingly furious. I could feel it. Bob having sex with me was never all that good for me but the anger when he did? I didn’t remember that. I remembered feeling him slamming into me though, as if he meant to hurt me and now, years later, I realized that was exactly what he was trying to do. Screw the bisexuality out of me? I almost laughed at the thought.
But then Nissa gasped, “Bob Albertson! I’m so sorry, Jo.” Then she added softly, “Making love is supposed to be fun and good for both parties. That…that was not.”
“Yes. I know. It wasn’t. I’ll be honest…the only reason I put up with it was because like too many women, I kept hoping he would get better. He never did.”
Before we could discuss it anymore, we saw Sorcha Faroe standing in her office reading something. There was a shocking amount of hatred directed at her. I think both of us knew where the hatred was coming from. But the intensity of it was nauseating. We also saw that he was planning to kill her.
Snatching the bag from me, Nissa gasped, “Enough! We need a break. My God!”
She was right. She set the bag on the coffee table and both of us simply stared at it.
“Wow!” That was the best comment I could come up with. Then I barely made it to the downstairs
bathroom where I vomited until I hurt.
When I returned to the living room, Nissa asked me if I was okay.
“Yeah, I’ll live,” I replied. “I had no idea that Bob was a serial killer. None. He only hit me twice. But those others? Goddess, what an evil man!” I stared at her. “I gave up my virginity to him when I was sixteen. Married him two years later. And divorced two years after that. Damn, Nissa, I’m a damn witch. I should have sensed something off about him besides his religious extremism.”
“Why? Being a witch doesn’t change anything. Many men like him hide it well.”
I nodded. “He certainly did. He wouldn’t believe that I was a witch. I think now, after what we’ve seen, that was a good thing. His Bible calls for killing them, or rather, us.” A shudder ran through me. I wondered if I’d ever sleep again knowing I could have been one of those bodies in that field.
Barreling on, I said, “On the other hand, I enjoyed sex with women, too, until I met Elsa and that was that. You’d have thought that if nothing else, the very thought of me and some girl getting it on back then would have been titillating to him. Nope. Not even a little. Or, like the extremism, he hid it well. I even told him he could join in and he got all high and mighty about how evil it was.”
I conjured a glass of cold water. After a long drink, I argued, “Clues. They were there and I missed them.” I had to set the glass down or drop it when, again, I realized how close I came to being dead. “Was I that lost in lust over his physical beauty back then that I missed them? You know him. He’s still pretty hot looking. Was I such a teenaged twat in love with the idea of being his girl? Goddess, talk about being shallow.”
Nissa wasn’t having any more of my whining. She snapped, “Stop this right now, Jo. I might go with teenaged lust…hell, I was there too. Even in jolly old England we have our hotties. But you can’t beat yourself up over this. Evil men are very good at hiding it. I’ve been a cop for a long time, and I’ve seen about all they can do. Women too. Men don’t control the ‘evil’ gene. I’ve seen some amazing shit women pull, too. I do know that they all hide it quite well. Think about this…he hadn’t quite become what he is now when you and he got together.”
