Experiment

by Simcoe, Marina

  The hostility in his tone made me wonder if he was annoyed with me for disturbing him, and I took a cautious step back to the door. Of course, he could be referring to some earlier interruption—maybe the one that had heated the door to his room, and possibly made that weird looking round hole in the window? What on earth could that have been, anyway?

  The phone in the man’s hand crackled with the same yellowish-green light as had just calmed down around the hole in the window. The licks and sparks of it ran around his hand and spread up his arm. With a curse under his breath, he tossed the cell phone onto the couch.

  “It looks like I will need your help, April.” He glanced up at me. “I need you to make a call for me.”

  I threw a suspicious glance at the device on the couch cushions.

  “Um, I’m afraid your phone’s broken, sir.” The green sparks stopped as soon as the stranger tossed it down, but I really didn’t feel like touching it myself.

  He must have caught my hesitation, his chest rose with a sigh as he explained, “It’s not the phone, it’s me.”

  “You? How?”

  The whole atmosphere in the room felt unsettling. Something had happened, but I didn’t care to find out. The sooner I could leave, the better.

  “Please, April,” his voice unexpectedly softened with the plea, which was inexplicably disarming. “I won’t be able to use anything electronic for a while, but I really need to call someone for help.”

  “What’s wrong with you and the electronics?” I asked warily but took a few hesitant steps toward the couch. “Could I use the room phone, maybe?”

  “If you wish.” He shrugged. “But you won’t be harmed by using mine. I promise.” The confidence in his tone was encouraging, and I tentatively picked up his cell phone, holding it between my thumb and forefinger.

  No sparks or crackles happened.

  “Okay.” I exhaled, glancing his way. “Whom do I call?”

  He told me the code to unlock the device then the number to dial.

  “Oliver!” A female voice sounded on the other end of the line after the first ring. “You have some nerve! After all this time—”

  I thrust the phone toward the stranger, for him to answer. A green string of sparks suddenly licked the screen as it came near his body. Startled, I yanked my hand back, dropping the phone to the carpeted floor. The crackling static broke the voice of the woman on the other end.

  The man in black quickly retreated to the wall, putting some distance between him and the phone, which seemed to calm the sparks.

  “Oliver? Are you there?” Although faint now, the voice clearly sounded annoyed and impatient.

  With a pleading glance my way, he gestured at the phone, prompting me to continue the conversation on his behalf.

  Crouching in front of the device, I cautiously hit the speaker button, so at least he could hear her. From the distance where he stood, she probably wouldn’t catch his replies if he spoke.

  “Um . . . my name is April—” I said.

  “April?” The woman on the phone sounded indignant, as if my name alone was offensive. “Who are you?”

  “I—I’m calling on behalf of Oliver . . .” I stared at the stranger pointedly, waiting for him to confirm that it indeed was his name, then continued after he had nodded, “He is unable to use the phone himself.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “He can’t?” Her voice softened. “Does it have anything to do with Thea and the ball last night?”

  ‘Does it?’ I mouthed to the man in black, since I had no clue what she was talking about.

  He rubbed his forehead.

  “I need her help,” was all he said.

  His back to the wall, he slid to the floor. Sitting on the ground, his legs bent, he placed his arms on his knees. Only now did I notice that his right hand had a black leather glove on. It seemed padded with something—the hand appeared larger than the other one, the leather stretched over an uneven surface.

  “He needs your help,” I repeated mechanically. He spoke way too softly for the phone speaker to pick up his words.

  “Does he now?” Her voice slithered through the room, with a seductive note woven through it. “And what makes him think I’d consider helping him after the way he left me, with not even a phone call all these years?”

  “Um . . .” I stared at him, waiting for an answer. Although, I wouldn’t have wanted to be in his position. The woman seemed angry, the calmness of her voice only amplified that.

  “What does she want for helping me?” Oliver sounded tired.

  “What would you want from him for your help?” I repeated into the microphone.

  She laughed. “I could definitely come up with a number of things . . .”

  “Not happening!” Suddenly, he leaped to his feet. “Do you have anything to do with this, Louise?” He shouted the question, loud enough for the woman on the phone to hear this time.

  “Me?” Her voice remained calm and even, although with a sharp note added to it. “You know I don’t meddle in the affairs of mortals. I stay away from the business of your coven, too. Yet here you are, begging me for help, the moment you get yourself in trouble.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” He paced the room along the wall. “I hardly know Thea. Her fight was with my father not me, but he’s dead, so she took it out on me.”

  “You’re not alone, I’ve heard many of your coven are affected.” Louise sounded mildly curious.

  “I thought you didn’t meddle in our business.”

  “I don’t, but it doesn’t hurt to stay informed,” she retorted.

  They both seemed to have forgotten about me being there. Finally, Oliver stopped pacing and faced me where I still crouched over his phone on the floor.

  “Will you help, Louise?” he asked.

  She took some time to answer. I could almost feel the tension emanating from him as he waited.

  “Are you willing to reconsider coming back to me?” Her voice was sweet and irresistibly enthralling. For a moment, I honestly believed I would have gone to her myself had she but called me like that. “My magically delicious Oliver,” she cooed.

  His shoulders dropped with an audible exhale from him.

  “No, Louise.” He fisted his hands at his sides. “I don’t particularly enjoy your chains and whips.”

  “Don’t I know that,” came with a long sigh. “So, you expect me to help you, while giving me nothing in return?” A steely note of sarcasm rang through the seductive velvet of her voice now. “Why would I help? For old times’ sake?”

  “Yes,” he replied, with hard confidence. “No matter how you choose to view it, you do owe me for the fifteen months of my life wasted in your basement.”

  “Oh, I can’t believe you’re still holding a grudge over that,” she replied, light and airy, followed by a laugh, melodious like silver bells. “Fine. Come over. I’d love to see your face, or whatever is left of it. You’ll need to leave by dinner time, though. Unless you’re willing to feed me, in which case I’d need to cancel my date for tonight.”

  “I’m coming right now.” In quick determined strides, Oliver headed for the exit. “Keep your date, Louise,” he threw over his shoulder. “I’ll leave well before dinner.”

  Reaching the door, he stopped abruptly, as if remembering something, then slammed his right hand into the wood.

  “April,” he turned around slowly. “I will need your help with getting there. I won’t be able to drive for a while, just like I can’t use the phone right now.”

  Apparently, there was a strict limit on please’s and thank-you’s in his vocabulary.

  “Well, I am at work.” Hanging up the phone since the line had gone dead, I got up. “I still have fifteen rooms to clean today.”

  I didn’t understand much from his conversation with Louise. However, their talking about a ball, a coven, and ‘affairs of mortals’ sounded like something from a movie—not to mention the references to the past with chains and w
hips. Either I had found myself in the middle of some cosplay scene or they both were crazy. Whatever the case, I sensed it would be prudent not to get involved.

  Despite all that, though, curiosity nagged me to accept—if just to get a chance at figuring out what all of this was about.

  “I’ll pay you,” Oliver said quickly. “Ten times over whatever you would make at the hotel today if you drive me to Bourbon Street right now.”

  Ten times?

  The calculation quickly ran through my mind, even as I realized that adding money into the equation could mean more trouble.

  “I would be fired if I left in the middle of the day with no explanation.” I called on the voice of reason.

  “I’ll let Eli, the hotel manager, know. He is my friend . . . Well, kind of. I promise, he will excuse your absence if I call and tell him you left to do me a favor.”

  “And how will you call?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You can’t use the phone.”

  “I will be able to use it again in a few hours or so, when the effects of the spell wear off,” he explained slowly, his voice strained as his patience appeared to be wearing thin. “However, I do need to get to Louise’s right now.”

  “You see, that’s the other thing about this . . .” I handed him the phone, and he put it in his coat pocket as his hand and arm started to sparkle green again. “I have no idea what I’d be getting myself into.” I gestured at the sparks running up his sleeve then at the round hole in the window. “But I am fairly certain it’s something I should stay away from.”

  “Two thousand dollars,” he fired off, as if not hearing me.

  “What? Stop it.”

  I was trying hard to ignore the dollar signs bouncing in my head. Working two jobs at this hotel, one as a maid and one as a kitchen help, I had been saving every penny. Turning down this amount was hard, but my rule of staying out of trouble and away from the hotel guests had been serving me well so far.

  “Why don’t I just call you a taxi instead?” I offered.

  “No.” He shook his head firmly. “I would prefer not to involve another stranger here. Besides, I want it to be you to drive me.”

  “Why?”

  He stared at me intently.

  “I have a feeling about you . . .”

  “Like, what kind of feeling?” I asked suspiciously.

  He advanced my way and I didn’t step back, meeting his scrutinizing stare.

  Between the scarf and the hood, all I could see were his eyes, glistening green, as if reflecting the receding light of the slowly-dying sparks from his pocket.

  “I need someone who wouldn’t speak about me to others.”

  “And you think I wouldn’t?”

  “Would you?” he challenged. “If I asked you not to?”

  If I gave him the promise not to speak, I most definitely would keep it, and it wouldn’t be just because I didn’t have that many people in my life to blab his secrets to.

  “Look, April,” he took another step in my direction, coming close enough for me to catch the whiff of his scent—expensive cologne over the warmth of his skin. Appealing. Enticing even. “I’ll pay you two thousand dollars to drive me to the French Quarter right now then to one other place, just outside of the city. Once I get back what was stolen from me, you’ll drive me here to the hotel—and we’re done. You’ll never see me again if you don’t want to and never speak of whatever happens today to anyone. You’ll keep your job, and you will be safe . . .” He shrugged one wide shoulder. “Well, as long as you stay inside the vehicle at all times.”

  I stared at him for a moment, trying to guess his expression from what little I could see.

  He shifted under my attention, adjusting the scarf over his face, and blurted out, “Three thousand dollars?” then added impatiently, “come on, easy money, April.”

  Money had never been easy in my life. Sure I could use every penny that came my way, but the way he had been casually throwing numbers at me made me cautious.

  Although, the chance to spend more time in his company and possibly uncover a mystery was enticing. To be honest, I hadn’t had much excitement in my life.

  Obviously misreading my hesitation, Oliver exhaled sharply. “Fine, name your price.”

  “It’s not about the money at this point.”

  “What is it then?”

  “Well, for once, I’m not that sure about the ‘safe’ part. If I get into a vehicle with you and drive you to the woman who sounds like she enjoys keeping people chained in her basement, I should know a little more about what’s going on, shouldn’t I? Who is Louise? What’s up with you and the electronics? And why are you covered head to toe, like that?” I waved my hand along his tall frame.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, widening his stance.

  “It may be safer for you not to know the answers to these questions.”

  I mimicked his pose.

  “I’m still insisting on an explanation.”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth, anyway.” He tilted his head, curiosity and challenge slipped through the exasperation in his tone.

  “Try me.”

  By this point, I’d heard and seen enough if not to believe, then at least consider whatever he was going to say, no matter how crazy it might sound.

  Oliver seemed to ponder over my words.

  “Fine. Give me your promise not to speak to anyone about what I am about to tell and show you, April.”

  My heart skipped a beat at his words. Apprehension and excitement fluttered through my insides.

  “Promise,” I said softly but firmly, raising my hand, for good measure.

  He nodded, approvingly.

  “Do you believe in magic, April?”

  “No.”

  He tossed his hands in the air abruptly. “Well, there you go! How am I supposed to convince you?”

  “You don’t have to convince me of anything, Oliver. You just need to explain to me what’s going on.”

  “But that is exactly what it is—magic.”

  “Funny,” I deadpanned. “Do you really think I’d fall for this explanation? Who, over the age of eight, believes in magic? Do you?”

  Rolling his shoulders back, he levelled his stare on me. “I wield it,” he declared with dramatic flair.

  “You do what?” I snorted a laugh in disbelief.

  Not dignifying me with an answer this time, he stretched his right arm my way and whispered something. I felt a lock of my hair lift as a tingling sensation prickled my skin. The strand moved to the side and behind my ear.

  “It’s . . . static.” I slapped my hand over the hair, holding it down. The inherent practicality in me still refused to accept the obvious.

  Instead of a reply, I heard another soft whisper filter through the scarf over Oliver’s face. Then I felt something behind my other ear. Lifting my hand quickly, I yanked a white orchid out of my hair.

  “Um . . .” I stared at it in bewilderment.

  “Searching for a logical explanation?” His deep voice filled with amusement. “Go on. I’ll wait until you’ll come up with something.”

  With a few more whispered words from him, the orchid turned into a bright purple dahlia right in front of my eyes.

  “Uh!” I exclaimed in surprise, dropping the flower as if it were a spider. “Stop it!”

  “Do you believe me now?” He chuckled.

  “This is . . . just . . .” I rubbed my palm on the skirt of my uniform, to erase the sensation of holding the flower in my hand.

  “What is it, April? Illusion? Mind tricks?” Oliver moved his hand, and the dahlia lifted off the floor, floating in the air in front of me. I took a step back, as if it were about to launch an attack on me. “This is not much, just a child’s game.” He spread his fingers wide, and the flower disappeared, as if having dissolved into the air. “My magic can be much greater than that, amplified by the experience of my ancestors, stored in my family ring.” He stared at his gloved right hand. �
��The ring was stolen from me this morning. A man, who has been after my family’s treasure for years, finally got his chance when Thea’s curse weakened me enough for him to overpower me.”

  “Aaand, you lost me again.” I shook my head. “Who is Thea, and what curse are you talking about?”

  “Thea is a witch. Last night she cursed the coven I belong to. That is the reason why I now need Louise to help me figure out how to break the curse. Then I’ll go after that piece of shit Ralph, who stole my ring.”

  “All right then.” I stepped back and sat on the couch. My legs felt too weak to support my weight all of a sudden. “This is a lot to take in.”

  A thought that Oliver might be delusional after all crossed my mind. Then I recalled what I just saw him do with the flower, and the suspicion that I might be the one who’d lost her mind filled me instead.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have much time for you to sit there and absorb it all right now, April. I need to make it to Louise’s as soon as possible. And believe me, I don’t want my meeting with her to stretch into her dinnertime. She is a three-hundred-year-old Succubus. Feeding her would be rather taxing on my system.”

  “Is she?” Somehow, that piece of information didn’t cause a huge surprise in me. It just neatly layered on top of everything weird and incredible I had just heard and seen.

  Oliver’s situation did tug at my compassion, though. He definitely seemed to be stranded here, and I had the ability to help.

  “So.” I got off the couch. “I’ll drive you around for a few hours, then get you back here, and we’re done. Right?”

  He nodded energetically. “You’ll keep your job. I will pay you for your trouble. Please.” The undisguised hope in his deep voice was hard to ignore.

  “Well, now that you’ve said ‘please’,” I smiled, “It is much easier for me to say ‘yes.’”

  Get Wicked Warlock Here.

  More By Marina Simcoe

  Demons Series

  Demon Mine

  The Forgotten

  Grand Master

  The Cursed – 2020