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Authors: H. P. Mallory
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him.
I faced the glum countenance of Rand and smiled, thinking I needed a drink. Yeah, that’s exactly what I needed—a drink or five.
“What harm could it do?” I asked.
“Bloody hell,” Rand grumbled and apparently realizing it was three against one, reached for his coat. So, it was set, we were going for a night on the town—quite the motley crew: a warlock, a witch in denial, a badly dressed woman and a re-animated dead man.
#
I sat in an over-stuffed booth and tried to breathe through the cloud of smoke that billowed out of the nightclub. And I don’t mean cigarette smoke. This smoke was white pina-colada scented puffs that served no purpose other than irritating me. Hip-hop blared out of the one-room club, making it tough to hear myself think. There were another four booths that circled the small dance floor that was so packed with people, they only had enough room to sway in place.
To the casual observer, the other four booths would’ve been entirely more engrossing than ours—their occupants either making out, fighting or partaking of some illegal substance.
Rand had ordered a round of drinks, and now he and I sat in silence, keeping a sharp eye on Jack, who was dancing with Christa and seemed about as happy as happy could be. As was to be expected, Jack had been shocked by the Chicago of today when compared to one hundred years ago. He seemed to deal with it well enough, though, with the help of a few shots of whiskey and a toast to the death of prohibition.
Rand on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as jovial. It’d been a good five minutes that he’d said nothing. He continued to scour the place, as if afraid someone was waiting in the shadows to snatch Jack away.
“So, what do you suppose happened?” I yelled, trying to best the volume of the club’s sound system. “How did I manage to bring Jack to life again?”
Rand faced me with a small smile, so small I couldn’t see his dimples and felt cheated.
I’ve never seen anything like it before. There was a brilliant light and then Jack was lying on the floor in the kitchen…alive.
I grinned as I realized I didn’t need to scream to compete with the noise of the club. I’d forgotten we could converse through thoughts. Wow, that’s pretty much what happened to me. I saw a bright light too and it felt like energy was flowing out of me or something. When I came out of it, Jack was dead. Then I started screaming.
And I slapped youSorry about that, by the way.
I wasn’t concerned with apologies at the moment. I was still caught up in the why and the how of it. Maybe I’d managed to lend some of my own life to Jack? I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, though. I’d rather keep my life to myself, even if it did make sense. I’d had the distinct feeling, at the time, that I was losing some part of me. And if such were the case, I had to wonder what that meant for me. Would it shorten my own life? I certainly felt fine now, as if it had never happened.
I hate having unanswerable questions.
How do you think your friend will react to us resurrecting Jack ? I asked.
I don’t know. His daughter is a witch…a strong one at that and one I don’t want as an enemy.
I sipped my amaretto sour, my drink of choice. And she hired you ?
He nodded. Sort of. It’s more of a favor.
So, if she’s a witch, does that mean Jack has special powers?
Rand shook his head, and I imagined we must’ve looked mighty odd to anyone who hazarded a glance our way. Neither one of us talking, but making gestures as if we were...
No, Jack was…well, is a normal human .
Thousands of questions percolated through my head like a swarm of locusts. Why couldn’t she just find out who killed him herself? Seems weird for her to wait so long.
Rand sighed as if he wasn’t in the mood for explanations. Witches and warlocks all exceed at certain things; we don’t all have the same powers. She couldn’t have done the spell herself. Perhaps we could’ve
I faced the glum countenance of Rand and smiled, thinking I needed a drink. Yeah, that’s exactly what I needed—a drink or five.
“What harm could it do?” I asked.
“Bloody hell,” Rand grumbled and apparently realizing it was three against one, reached for his coat. So, it was set, we were going for a night on the town—quite the motley crew: a warlock, a witch in denial, a badly dressed woman and a re-animated dead man.
#
I sat in an over-stuffed booth and tried to breathe through the cloud of smoke that billowed out of the nightclub. And I don’t mean cigarette smoke. This smoke was white pina-colada scented puffs that served no purpose other than irritating me. Hip-hop blared out of the one-room club, making it tough to hear myself think. There were another four booths that circled the small dance floor that was so packed with people, they only had enough room to sway in place.
To the casual observer, the other four booths would’ve been entirely more engrossing than ours—their occupants either making out, fighting or partaking of some illegal substance.
Rand had ordered a round of drinks, and now he and I sat in silence, keeping a sharp eye on Jack, who was dancing with Christa and seemed about as happy as happy could be. As was to be expected, Jack had been shocked by the Chicago of today when compared to one hundred years ago. He seemed to deal with it well enough, though, with the help of a few shots of whiskey and a toast to the death of prohibition.
Rand on the other hand, didn’t seem quite as jovial. It’d been a good five minutes that he’d said nothing. He continued to scour the place, as if afraid someone was waiting in the shadows to snatch Jack away.
“So, what do you suppose happened?” I yelled, trying to best the volume of the club’s sound system. “How did I manage to bring Jack to life again?”
Rand faced me with a small smile, so small I couldn’t see his dimples and felt cheated.
I’ve never seen anything like it before. There was a brilliant light and then Jack was lying on the floor in the kitchen…alive.
I grinned as I realized I didn’t need to scream to compete with the noise of the club. I’d forgotten we could converse through thoughts. Wow, that’s pretty much what happened to me. I saw a bright light too and it felt like energy was flowing out of me or something. When I came out of it, Jack was dead. Then I started screaming.
And I slapped youSorry about that, by the way.
I wasn’t concerned with apologies at the moment. I was still caught up in the why and the how of it. Maybe I’d managed to lend some of my own life to Jack? I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, though. I’d rather keep my life to myself, even if it did make sense. I’d had the distinct feeling, at the time, that I was losing some part of me. And if such were the case, I had to wonder what that meant for me. Would it shorten my own life? I certainly felt fine now, as if it had never happened.
I hate having unanswerable questions.
How do you think your friend will react to us resurrecting Jack ? I asked.
I don’t know. His daughter is a witch…a strong one at that and one I don’t want as an enemy.
I sipped my amaretto sour, my drink of choice. And she hired you ?
He nodded. Sort of. It’s more of a favor.
So, if she’s a witch, does that mean Jack has special powers?
Rand shook his head, and I imagined we must’ve looked mighty odd to anyone who hazarded a glance our way. Neither one of us talking, but making gestures as if we were...
No, Jack was…well, is a normal human .
Thousands of questions percolated through my head like a swarm of locusts. Why couldn’t she just find out who killed him herself? Seems weird for her to wait so long.
Rand sighed as if he wasn’t in the mood for explanations. Witches and warlocks all exceed at certain things; we don’t all have the same powers. She couldn’t have done the spell herself. Perhaps we could’ve
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