A Psychic with Catitude

by P. D. Workman

  “No. No, I wasn’t.”

  His eyes were blue as ice, penetrating her confusion. “Will you let me help you?”

  “You already have.” Corvin was no longer holding her, and that was what the stranger had wanted. What he had said Reg wanted. So all was well.

  “Let me help you.”

  “Uh… okay.”

  He raised one hand and passed it in front of Reg’s eyes. She blinked, awareness slowly coming back. Where was Sarah? Where was the party and the safety in numbers? She had been told not to be alone with Corvin. He had promised not to use his magical powers on her. But she knew by the scent of roses that still lingered on the porch that he had betrayed her trust. The stranger again waved his hand past Reg’s face, as if blowing away the smell or brushing away the confusion that surrounded her. Things became clearer. Reg stood without the support of the wall. She looked at Corvin, anger rising up through the fog.

  “You promised me. You said you wouldn’t!”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know you did! And this guy, whoever he is, knows you did. Don’t give me that crap! You did it after you said you wouldn’t.”

  Corvin’s face crumpled. He reached toward her. “Regina. I swear to you, I was doing my very best to resist. But you are so intoxicating, so…”

  “I asked you if you could resist and you said you could.”

  “I thought… I thought I could. I just wanted to dance with you. I didn’t think…” In spite of the fact that she wasn’t trying to enter his mind, she suddenly felt his gnawing hunger, that emptiness that could only be filled if she gave her powers to him. He had tasted them before and he desperately wanted them back. Despite the fact that he’d been given powerful objects by Jessup, they hadn’t been enough to satiate him. Not when Reg was right before him, so tempting and vulnerable, mere moments from ceding to him once more.

  Reg clutched at her stomach, the shared sensation causing her physical pain. Nausea threatened to overcome her. She almost fell to her knees, but the strange man put his hand on her arm and helped to support her.

  “Put him out of your mind,” he told her. “You do not share this hunger.”

  Reg wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. She didn’t have the strength to fight back against the horrible emptiness. In her mind, she saw Corvin as he’d been as a child, so overcome by the hunger that all he could do was writhe on the floor in the corner of the kitchen and cry, begging his mother to feed him, to make the emptiness go away. But she couldn’t fill that need for him. A bowl of oatmeal wouldn’t take the pain and emptiness away. A hundred bowls of oatmeal would never fill that hole.

  “No,” Reg cried, her knees giving way, “no, no, no… please…”

  The stranger put his hand on her arm but it didn’t stop the pain. He turned on Corvin. “Take it away now or I will cut you down where you stand!”

  “She should know what it’s like,” Corvin growled. “She wouldn’t deny me if she knew how I feel!”

  The stranger reached into his waistcoat and drew a dagger. He advanced on Corvin. “You will release her or you will die. She is protected.”

  Reg sensed other movements around them, but she couldn’t take her eyes away from Corvin and the tall stranger. She wanted to tell them to stop, but the pain had her retching on the ground, overcome.

  “Not exactly sporting,” Corvin said, looking around at the others of the Bernier party like a trapped animal.

  The other man held the dagger to Corvin’s chest. “Sporting?”

  Corvin growled deep in his chest. The pain and longing drained out of Reg. She was on her hands and knees, long drapes of red fabric pooled around her on the white stone of the porch like blood. She breathed heavily, trying to regain her equilibrium.

  A woman was at her side. One of the Bernier women, maybe Lady Bernier herself. She steadied Reg with one soft hand and brought the other up to Reg’s mouth. A tiny crystal vial of red liquid.

  “Drink,” the woman prompted. “Take this. Take strength from us.”

  Reg drained the few drops into her mouth, figuring there wasn’t enough there to cause her any harm, though she didn’t expect it to do her any good either. It burned like acid all the way down, making Reg break out into a sweat. A chill and a shiver followed, and then warmth spread from Reg’s stomach outward, strengthening her limbs. She rose awkwardly to her feet, the Lady still attending to her, encouraging her.

  “Regina,” Corvin spoke to her again, his voice still husky, broken. “I swear, I never intended…”

  “You broke your promise to me,” Reg said. She wiped her mouth with the back of her gloved hand. The bitter taste of bile remained in her mouth. “And your… desire isn’t an excuse for attacking me. It’s your responsibility to control yourself.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “You’re right. I know. I just…”

  “You will be brought up before your coven for this,” the stranger said, tapping his dagger against Corvin’s chest. “Broken covenants. Using force. Giving her your pain. You will be cast out.”

  Corvin’s lips pressed together. He swallowed hard. “I’ll answer for my actions.”

  “Yes.” The man withdrew his knife. “That you will.”

  Corvin’s hands hung loosely at his sides. He made no movement toward Reg or to the man who had intervened. Lady Bernier patted Reg’s cheek as though she were a little child. “You are feeling better?”

  Reg gazed at her, unsure what to say. Her face burned with embarrassment. The Lady reached out and touched the dragonfly figure on Reg’s dress, looking thoughtful.

  Sarah pushed through a line of gawkers to get a clear view of Reg. She joined Lady Bernier at Reg’s side. “Reg! Are you okay? What happened?” She looked at the Bernier party gathered around them, confusion in her eyes. She looked at Corvin. “What happened here? Is Reg sick? What are you doing out here?”

  Corvin shook his head, looking down at the ground. His obvious shame answered her question.

  “You and your appetites,” Sarah said scathingly. “You stay away from Reg. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you can’t seem to control yourself around her.”

  Corvin gestured toward Reg, opening his mouth to explain, but words failed him and he dropped his hand back down again.

  Sarah gave a tight nod. “That’s right.” She looked around again at the Bernier party, her brows drawn down. “And what…?” She gave a little curtsy to the woman. “Lady Bernier…?”

  The Lady made a little flutter with her fingers. “We came to the child’s assistance. She was clearly ensorcelled by the warlock, at his mercy.”

  “Well, thank you. It is much appreciated. But… why did you?”

  “She is protected.”

  “Protected…? But how?”

  Lady Bernier raised her eyebrows. “That is of no concern.”

  “Well…” Sarah looked for a way to argue the point, but she couldn’t come up with a reason she would need to know how Reg had obtained this protection. She shook her head. “Again, our thanks for your assistance. Reg…?”

  Reg looked at her, preparing herself for the criticism that would surely come.

  “Are you ready to go home?”

  Reg let out her breath. “That would be… really good.”

  “You look like you’ve been through the wringer. I’m sorry, I never thought that…” Sarah looked at Corvin. “I mean, I believed that it would be okay. I’m sorry. I’m not a very good guardian.”

  Reg massaged her temples. “Guardian? You’re not my guardian. I’m an adult. I’m big enough to take care of myself.” She winced. “At least, I’m supposed to be.”

  “But you are a novice, living under my roof. I’m not exactly your mentor, but… I do have a responsibility to watch over you.”

  It seemed odd that Reg could have multiple protectors, and yet still keep getting herself into situations she needed to be rescued from. She looked at the Bernier clan, not sure what to say to them by way of appreciation. If
they had not intervened when they had, she surely would have fallen prey to Corvin’s wiles again, and she would not have gotten her powers back a second time.

  “Thank you, sir,” she told the tall stranger.

  He bowed his head in acknowledgment.

  Reg took Sarah’s arm, and they walked back out to the front of the house, where their limousine was pulling up to the red carpet to take them home.

  ⋆ Chapter Fifteen ⋆

  S

  arah was quiet on the way home, her brooding silence unusual. Reg would have tried to fill the uncomfortable silence if she’d known what to say. She didn’t want to discuss what had just happened, but she didn’t want to talk about the party as if nothing had happened, either. She didn’t feel like the same person going home as she had on the way there. Cinderella returning from the ball tattered and shoeless.

  Reg removed her shoes in the car and rubbed her feet with her good hand. Dancing with Corvin had been incredible, until things had gotten out of hand. She’d never been to such an event before.

  And she’d never known a man like Corvin. Not quite.

  The car eventually pulled up in front of the house. The driver opened the doors for them, and Reg walked up the sidewalk without putting her shoes back on. The long trains of gauzy red fabric swirled around her in a breeze off the ocean.

  “I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “Do you want to spend the night at the house? So that you’re not alone?”

  Reg thought of how alone she had felt when Corvin had pushed his pain onto her. Nothing could compare to that. She preferred being by herself to having Sarah hovering over her.

  “No. I’ll be fine. I’ll just go straight to bed anyway.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll come back with you, make sure you get settled.”

  Reg didn’t have the mental energy to argue with the old witch about it. She was going to accompany Reg one way or the other; there was no point in Reg wasting time and energy arguing with her.

  They walked around the big house into the back yard where the guest cottage nestled in the trees. The stars were shining brightly and fireflies sparkled in the night.

  Home.

  Reg’s eyes teared up. She didn’t know why she should feel so weepy after everything was over and done. She hadn’t cried while it was happening. She dabbed at her eyes, trying to be careful not to transfer mascara onto her gloves.

  There was a plaintive yowl as they approached the door. Reg looked around. Starlight sat to the side of the doorstep, sounding irritated that she had stayed out so late, abandoning him outside.

  “Starlight!” Reg swooped down to pick him up. She wasn’t sure whether she had moved too fast or he was spooked by the billowing red cloth around her. He jumped out of the way and ran halfway across the yard. “No. Don’t go away. Come inside. Come on. I’ll give you some tuna.”

  Sarah unlocked the door and pushed it open, making inviting clicks with her tongue. “Come on, Starlight.”

  They both went inside, leaving the door open in the hopes that he would follow them in. Sarah went to the kitchen and shook Starlight’s bowl. She opened and closed the fridge, trying to make it sound like a meal was being prepared.

  “Trust a cat to come home at the most inconvenient time!”

  It wasn’t the most inconvenient if it meant that Reg could cuddle up with her cat for the night instead of sleeping alone, the memories of the evening replaying themselves over and over again, hearing every creak and groan of the house settling around her.

  In a few minutes, she could see Starlight’s eyes shining in the darkness. She watched him out the corner of her eye while getting out a can of tuna to tempt him back in. Starlight’s movements were erratic, and she couldn’t figure out what was going on. Then she saw that he was carrying something, dragging it into the cottage. Reg’s stomach turned. The last thing she needed was Starlight dragging some dead or injured rodent in to present to her. Or worse yet, a bird, which would send Sarah off the deep end. She had made it clear when Reg had brought Starlight home that she had an affinity for birds, not cats. If she were forced to make a decision between the welfare of the birds that lived in the area and the cat, she would undoubtedly choose the birds.

  But it wasn’t an animal. It was some kind of plant. A tall spray of flowers, greenery, even the clump of dirty root. Had he stolen it from someone who was planting their garden?

  “What are you doing, you crazy cat?” Reg asked him. She bent down and picked up the plant, examining it. Sarah moved quietly to the cottage door and closed it so that Starlight could not make another escape.

  Starlight sat back on his haunches, looking at Reg. She was relieved that he was home and unscathed. She really had been worried by his disappearance. She pulled her gloves off. They had already taken enough abuse, she didn’t need to get dirt and greenery ground into them as well. She checked the bandage, which seemed to be staying in place well enough. Maybe it was finally on the mend.

  Starlight jumped up on the counter and Reg turned to the water faucet to flick water at him. He meowed a protest that was almost as clear to her as human speech and she turned back to him. He pressed his face into the plant, sniffing it.

  “Is it catnip?” Reg asked. “Why would he drag that home?”

  “Cats are strange,” Sarah said with a philosophic shrug. “You can’t expect them to make sense.” She picked up the ragged plant, frowning. “It’s certainly not catnip. I think it is yarrow.” Her brows drew down farther. “I’m not a great healer, but yarrow is a well-known remedy for the healing of wounds.”

  Reg looked at her hand, then at Starlight, who was looking at her with strange intensity. “Do you think he brought it to me because of my hand? To heal it?”

  Sarah tutted. “He’s a cat. Cats don’t know anything about herbs and healing. We’ll leave this here for the night. I’ll call Letticia to come tomorrow to take a look at your hand, and if she wants to use it…”

  Reg nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Should we put it in some water?”

  “It’s not like it’s cut flowers,” Sarah pointed out. But she went to the cupboards and found a tall vase that was just right to hold it. She filled it with water and pushed the root ball down into the vase.

  Starlight sniffed at the plant and looked at Reg.

  “I don’t know how to use it,” Reg told him. “Letticia will know what to do.”

  Apparently satisfied with this, he jumped down from the counter and started yowling about how hungry he was.

  “You’re the one who ran away,” Reg pointed out. “If you’re hungry, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

  Even so, she gave him a larger than usual helping of tuna and watched him eat it, a lump in her throat.

  Reg dreamed of Calliopia again. She hadn’t expected to. Calliopia’s troubles had been driven out of her mind by the events at the party. But it all melded together in the dream. Calliopia was still in the cold, dark room, unable to find sleep on the uncomfortable cot, listening to all of the strange noises around her.

  “I’m not one of you,” she protested. “Please, let me go back.”

  There were arguments held just out of earshot. Reg couldn’t tell what they were saying and knew only that they discussed Callie’s fate. If she wouldn’t cooperate with whatever they had planned for her, would they return her? Or would they do something to ensure her silence?

  “She is protected.” Reg heard the whisper more clearly. “If we harm her, we will answer to the council.”

  Just like Corvin was going to have to answer to his coven for the community laws he had broken. They would have to answer for whatever things they did to Calliopia. She lay there in the dark room, languishing, the energy slowly draining from her. Had they given her food and water? Or was she starving while they looked for her and while Reg went to parties and entertained herself as if she had not a care in the world?

  Calliopia started to sing, silencing the whispers in the nearby rooms. They seemed hypnotized whenever th
ey heard her voice. But she couldn’t go on singing forever.

  ⋆ Chapter Sixteen ⋆

  M

  orning came too soon. Reg had known it would. She’d stayed out half the night, but the sunshine still woke her up in the morning. She got up before she was ready to face the day, and washed off the sweat from tossing and turning all night. Starlight followed her into the bathroom and was sitting on the mat outside the shower waiting for her when she stepped out. He rubbed against her wet legs, pasting cat fur to her skin and making his coat stick up in little peaks.

  “Feeling a little insecure this morning?” Reg asked him, trying to wipe all of the fur off with her towel. “Did you miss me? It’s your own fault, you know. You’re the one who went running off. I don’t know why you did that. I thought you were hit by a car and never coming back.”

  He rubbed against her some more, making her attempts to brush the cat fur off useless. Reg got dressed and then picked him up for a cuddle. He rubbed the top of his head against her chin, purring loudly.

  They were just finishing their breakfast when Sarah knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Oh, you’re up, good. Are you ready for company?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she opened the door and entered. Letticia, a tall, black-haired, severe witch followed behind her. She was the leader of Sarah’s coven, despised technology, and didn’t give the impression that she approved of anything, including Reg herself.

  She nodded to Reg. “Sarah said you have an injury that needs to be treated.”

  Reg unwrapped her hand and laid it on the counter for Letticia’s examination. Letticia stared at it coldly for some time, and then held both hands in the air over it, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. Starlight jumped up on the counter.

  “Starlight,” Reg protested, and moved to push him back off.

  “Leave the cat,” Letticia ordered. “And stay still.”

  Reg put her other hand back down and waited for Letticia’s verdict.