Blood & Magic

by Catherine Wolffe

  The sneer held contempt. The Sultan glared at the camera dusted in dirt. Silently, one of his guards swept forward, snatching up the camera before disappearing with the offending object before either of them could comment. The Sultan’s nostrils flared.

  She had hit a nerve. Huffing out a breath, she jabbed a bit harder. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you have a mess at the mansion. Seems someone threw a bit of a fit. Your minions are going to be busy for a while with the drywall repair.” She watched his chest rise and fall in slow, steady breaths. It didn’t help.

  “I’m going to enjoy punishing you for your deeds, my dear.” His voice held a carefully controlled tone. “No one makes a fool of the Sultan.”

  “You – a fool? How touching. Almost as touching as the torture you’ve put the unfortunate people you’ve enslaved through.” Tightening the reign on her resolve, Jessie made a clucking sound with her tongue. “You are such a victim, Sultan. I pity you, but not for the reason you think.” Her eyes tracked to the nearby huts. “These people have suffered long enough under your cruelty. Justice is coming. Mark my words.” The slap stung her cheek. Rocco would have smiled at the pain. Grinding her teeth together, Jessie refused to give the Sultan any sign of weakness. “Your day is coming. Your number is up. Better get ready, cause judgment day is around the corner.”

  This time, the air crackled with the blow. Staggering, Jessie righted herself, stretching to her total height. This time, certain he had broken her jaw, she reached for the pain. “I curse you.” Her eyes burned, the tears falling unheeded. “You will know the same anguish you’ve heaped on these poor people.” Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. The bright, copper taste of it hardened her resolve once more. Holding up the small pouch she forgot was hung around her neck, Jessie tested the Sultan’s control further.

  “By the breath of Merlin, I beseech the powers of magic.” The leaves underfoot stirred of their own accord. “You will burn in a fiery hell. No one will sacrifice themselves to save you, not even your loyal guards.” The wind whipped at the Sultan’s robes. “I wish pestilence as well as sickness on all who follow you.” Lightning crackled. A gust of wind bowed the treetops. The cloud of dust sweeping across the ground flung dirt in his face. Shards of debris rained down on their skin and scrapped flesh. “Before your end, you’ll beg for mercy.” Lightning danced violently across what once had held a perfect blue sky as storm clouds covered the sun. The thunderclap caused Jessie to jerk.

  Hail pelted the ground in a stunning display of fury. The Sultan’s guards threw up their shields in defense of the onslaught.

  Barely able to see, Jessie raced for the trees, her bare skin crying out under the bruising onslaught. “Faster!” her brain shouted. “Shift!” With speed born of the change, she felt the transformation begin. Was she going to make the time continuum? Grasping the amulet, she immediately released the stone. The gold scalded her palm. Crying out with the contact, she stared at her hand. No time to look after a wound. Soon, she would become the man. Soon, she would travel to J.T.’s world. How long before the electric charge of this world catapulted her into the next? Tumbling forward, terror gripped Jessie’s senses. She couldn’t stop the fall. Would she survive? The last thought came to her right before her world went black.

  ***

  “Jessie?” J.T. stumbled into the moonlight. His vision blurred at the scene before him. The camp lay in ruins. Huts blazed out of control. Ropes hung from live oaks with bodies swinging slowly in the sultry air. Smoke hung heavy like an honorarium shroud for the dead.

  Rooted to the spot, he did not try to stop the tremors that racked his body. His chest felt as if an elephant sat on him. “Where is she?” Panic bound his words with unspeakable fear.

  “Easy, vampire. Here, sit before you fall.” Thomas lead J.T. to a stack of sugarcane stalks. Leaning him against the support, he dug in his bag. “Here, take a whiff of this.”

  “What, what is it?”

  “Ammonia. I’m gonna run this under your nose. It’s strong. Just a little.” Thomas passed the small, brown bottle under J.T. nostrils.

  “Stop that.” J.T. shoved at Thomas’ hand. “That shit’s stout. Get back. Enough.” He waved Thomas away. The smell woke his senses again. “What happened? Where is everyone?”

  Thomas straightened. Surveying the charred huts, he sighed heavily. “The Sultan dropped by.”

  J.T. glared at his companion. “Why?” With a hand, he shoved to stand. “Where are the people? Where’s Jessie?”

  Thomas’ lips thinned. “He’s taken them.” His bare skin glistened in the heat from the fires. “Hopefully, he transferred them to another camp. No sense in destroying property, slaves being vital to the Sultan’s plans.”

  J.T.’s legs ached with the lethargy gripping him. “Taken. But where?” Like a drunk man, he staggered forward. Slowly, he turned, examining the Sultan’s destruction. “So many sick. The bastard forced them out. He has no compassion. He’s a monster.”

  “Yes. Pure evil.” Thomas kicked at a burning timber. “Those who live will be forced to travel to the fields now. He’s making an example.”

  J.T. turned. His jaw tightened. “An example.” Jessie’s hut remained intact. Why? A threat, a symbol of domination. “He’s speaking through his actions, isn’t he?”

  “That’s what it looks like. I’ve seen this before. The Sultan wants to make sure any who dare cross him understand he is in total control.”

  Anger flared, hot and wild. J.T.’s eyes glowed in the darkness. “The bastard is in for a rude awakening. He’s dealing with the wrong vampire.” Fury congealed in his chest like a righteous cry for justice. His nostrils flared as his blood boiled. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left them alone.” Swallowing hard, J.T starred at Thomas. “What if he killed her?” Glancing at the bodies hanging from the limbs of the old live oaks, J.T. felt the leaded sensation of loss fill his gut. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

  Thomas reached out. “No. She’s safe.”

  Like the small ember igniting into a flame, an inkling of hope surged in J.T.’s blood. “What do you mean?” His hands flung wide in a splay of disconcerted certainty. “If she is alive, she won’t be for long. He’ll use her, torture her to get us to back off.”

  “He can’t.”

  Thomas’ stony expression drew confusion from J.T. He snarled. The man made no sense. “Stop with the cloak and daggers, Thomas. This is reality we’re talking about here. She’s in his hands now and won’t last long.”

  “That’s not the case, J.T.” Thomas headed for the hut Jessie used when she shifted to Rocco. “Follow me.”

  J.T.’s mind stalled at the glimmer of a chance she was out of harm’s way. Thomas sounded like he had proof. Well, he better explain and fast, he decided. “By the gods, man, get to the point.” He followed Thomas with tension singing through his veins.

  Thomas entered the hut, standing in the center with a crook to his smile. Glancing up, he pointed. The hut is charmed.

  J.T. shook his head. “You’re making no sense. I know Jessie’s amulet gives her the power to travel through time and shift. Maybe, the hut is a portal or focal point for the transformation.” He snarled in impatience. “Get to the point, man. We’re wasting time here.”

  Thomas’ smile widened. “Patience isn’t a vampire’s strong suit, is it?”

  Waving the innuendo away, J.T. glared out of strained eyes. “For the gods’ sake, get on with it!”

  “The charm allows those who believe to see the past.” Thomas glanced at his companion.

  “Great. But how does that help us? I can’t use her charm. We’re wasting time! I’m going after her.”

  “I can see the past.”

  J.T. froze in mid-stride. Slowly turning, he examined Thomas carefully. There was more to this man than he had thought. “You’re kidding, right?” He blinked at the Cajun with the silly grin rimming his face. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you can time travel as well.” Positi
ve the sarcasm would goad Thomas into denial, J.T. smirked in satisfied anticipation.

  “Well, now that you mention it, yes, I can.”

  J.T.’s mouth went slack. “Keeping things close to the vest aren’t you, Thomas?”

  “It’s the Navy way. Loose lips sink ships, lieutenant.” Thomas eyed J.T. as if expecting something.

  Confusion reigned over the anxiety. J.T. examined his companion carefully. The man’s expression held more than J.T. could fathom. What was he doing? Taking a step, he shoved at the disconcerted emotions racing through his blood. There wasn’t time for an old homecoming. Jessie could be in danger or dead. Time was ticking away. “These games you’re playing are pissing me off, Thomas. What are you trying to tell me? Spit it out, man!”

  Thomas stood unmoved by J.T.’s tirade. After a minute or two, he blinked once. Within seconds, the Cajun’s features swam in his face.

  J.T. took a step backward. “What the fuck?” He reached for his sidearm in reflex. The dawning came quickly as Thomas’ familiar characteristics shifted. With insides coiling in denial, he watched Thomas become Luke! The transformation took only moments yet seemed like the clock had stopped. There was his commander from the war. Their leader from Team Six was killed in a gut-wrenching conflict, yet he stood before him now. The honorable soldier appeared as he had so many times in J.T.’s memory, whole and hearty.

  “This is some cruel joke.” J.T.’s hand shot out in accusation. He wished for a moment he could level a weapon at the man. He wanted to blow the vision to kingdom come. “Good one. You almost had me going there, you mother fucker.” His gut seized as if a north wind had swept through. A flush of adrenaline had him wheeling to leave. “I get the picture. You work for the Sultan. This is his handy work, isn’t it?”

  “J.T., wait.” Luke’s voice came to him in the silence. “I’ve wanted to tell you ever since you found us in the sugar cane field.” Luke barked out a healthy laugh before walking toward J.T. “I’m real enough. I know what you’re thinking, I’m the Sultan’s creation, more mind manipulation, right? Well, here’s something only Luke would know.” He shoved something metal into J.T.’s hand. “Here.”

  J.T. faltered a second. In his hand, he held a small St. Jude's medal on a chain he recognized.

  “Even if the Sultan saw you put it in my dying hand, he had no idea the meaning behind the metal.” Luke’s hand shook slightly. “Remember when I gave this to you?”

  An old pain congealed in his chest. J.T.’s eyes welled with tears. “How could I forget?”

  Luke’s smile held a small dose of sympathy.

  Blinking away the bloody tears, J.T. felt the chain warm in his hands. He ran his thumb over the symbol stamped in the pendant. “Band of brothers, now and forever, is what you told me that day.”

  “Yeah, and I also told you, no matter where you went, I’d always be watching over you.”

  The words rang true. It had been the day of his acceptance into the team. A small, informal ceremony between the team members solidified their bond. Without pomp and circumstance, they’d saluted J.T. with a beer. Each member had given him a token to keep. The meaning behind the trinkets was the point. If he were ever separated from them, ever ready to give up, the charms were there to remind him each member had his back.

  “Luke?” J.T.’s heart filled with the knowledge. “You’re actually here.” He shoved at the emotions racing through him.

  Luke reached out, giving J.T.’s shoulder a good squeeze. “Yeah, I’m here. I always have been.”

  Words did not come easy. J.T. shook his head. “I don’t understand. How?”

  “The Sultan’s not the only one who can possess a body. After death, I became a shadow walker. Too much work still to do here, you know?” He grinned a cocky grin. “Thomas was near death when I, well, moved in, so to speak.” He lifted his shoulders as he made the analogy. “Besides, Jessie needed the help with the camp.”

  “How long? I mean, when did this happen?”

  Luke narrowed his eyes. “It’s been about a year. I explained things to her or should I say, her alter ego, Rocco, when the transfer was complete. As a shadow walker or ghost, I could sense Thomas’ impending death. He had swamp fever or Typhoid. Without vaccinations, the nineteenth-century diseases rock here in the Netherworld.” His head cocked sideways. “It was a simple matter of moving in before the heart stopped beating.”

  J.T. rubbed a spot near his dead heart before he firmed his jaw. Returning the gesture, he gripped Luke’s shoulder. “Man, it’s good to have you back, but I have to tell you something.”

  Luke responded with a reassuring pat on J.T.’s hand. “You don’t have to tell me. I know you are a vampire. I have since the Sultan brought me back with him from over there. Now, I have something for you. Follow me.”

  Chapter 13

  Peaceful. The world floated on a cloud of pure perfection. So long. Jessie had craved for such an intoxicating state for so long. The sound of water crashing on a beach roused her to the point of consciousness. The low roar of waves pounding against rocks had her sitting up. Where was she? Glancing from one side to the other, she wondered where she had landed. Darkness surrounded her as a thin moon drifted in a cloudy sky. The location did not remind her of the Netherworld. At least, not the Netherworld she understood. Where had she traveled? After the first few moments, she raised her hand to examine the damage left by the red-hot amulet. The pain was not as bad. Thankfully, the blister had cooled. A red whelp in the shape of the amulet remained. Wincing, she tried to flex her fingers. The movement brought more discomfort. Rolling on her elbows, Jessie sat up on her knees.

  No sign of inhabitants, the location didn’t seem familiar. Where were the hills and oak trees of Aubrie’s land? The weeds, dead from winter’s force did not appear. How did she manage to stall out in such a strange place? Glancing down again, she noted the clothing she wore. No sign of the flapper costume remained. Instead, a Victorian gown of quality took its place. A white cotton handkerchief spilled from a breast pocket in the form fitted jacket. She took the soft cotton, gingerly wrapping the cloth around her hand.

  Examining the injury, she considered the shift. That was a first. Never had she shifted into different clothing during her time travels. Another thing – she was still Jessie. Surprise rippled up her spine at the idea. She always changed into Rocco with the phenomenon. How long had she traveled? Was she really in another century?

  Carefully getting to her feet, she examined the gown she wore more closely. A midnight blue gown in the style of the Gibson Girl, made popular in the late 1800’s by Harper’s Bazaar. Twisting around, she noted the bustle which was a bit much. What to do with the long skirt became another consideration. Reaching up, she noted the hat secured atop her head. How had she missed it before? Readjusting the contraption, she decided until she knew where she was and why she’d go with the getup. Remembering the stringent social dictates of that particular era, she didn’t want to cause suspicion. Woven into the sides of the skirt were pockets which would come in handy, she supposed. Walking was another deal when she found her feet encased in soft-as-butter high-topped, leather boots. Buttons ran up the body of the boots, ending above the ankles. The heel height wasn’t that bad, she decided after giving them a practice run. She would need to get used to them, that’s all. As a dancer, she had built up callouses from hours on her toes. Still, going barefoot here wasn’t in the cards.

  The land around her was simply that – land as far as the eye could see. Blonde grass waved in the wind. She could hear gulls flying nearby. Maybe she was near an ocean. Okay, so she would figure out which way was north and head in that direction. Simple as that. Glancing up, she saw the moon sliding in and out of puffy clouds. Jessie decided she had about four hours until sunrise. A long piece of driftwood lying nearby might be useful as a walking stick.

  Miles. She had walked miles or, so it seemed to her. Her mind ran on autopilot after all the time traversing the hills and hollows of the beau
tiful countryside. Still no closer to understanding where she was, Jessie decided she had traveled far enough. The slit of a moon hung in the western sky. The trees were nothing more than silhouettes against the meager light of the moon. If she had to stop for rest, she decided this was as good a place as any. Her view of the water and the sand below reminded her she hadn’t had a bath in several days. In the form of Rocco, one didn’t have the luxury of indulging in baths. Besides, she had rather use the water for those who were ill or suffering a fever rather than squander the precious liquid on herself. A small outcropping formed a nice little “v” in the stones anchoring the hilltop. More than a little bemused at how she had gotten there, Jessie concluded her focus had been on merely walking, not on her surroundings. “This place is good,” she decided.

  The confines of the jacket were tedious, she mused. “Such fuss over clothing.” Removing her jacket, she stretched. Her collar was tall, not to mention hot, so she unbuttoned the offending neck before settling to remove her boots. So many buttons, she mused, as her fingers worked to undo them. “I’ll be old before I get these things off.” Muttering to herself, she kept busy, rather than think about the Sultan and what he might do with the slaves when he found her gone. “Gone in the blink of an eye,” she sighed. “Maybe the Sultan was removed too.” She blinked at the idea of someone else pulling the strings of that little disappearing scene. The idea had her snorting out a laugh. “Who else could have witnessed the disappearance of a woman or a mid-eastern lord?” she said aloud.

  Out of the shoes, finally, Jessie wiggled her toes. The sand felt good, all warm and smooth. Jessie started down the hillside intent on bathing in the ocean. Even if she had to do it in her shift, she would. As she walked, some of what happened back at the slave camp replayed in her head. No need for recognizing or defending the phenomenon.