For those who keep checking for the next Justice release, here's the unedited first chapter of A Twist of Love.
===========================
I sat at my scarred oak desk in my office and stared at the pile of morning dispatches from the home Temple of Balance in the capital. Summer’s heat was upon us even this early in the morning. Despite my office being located within the cool marble depths of my own Temple, I hadn’t bothered with my formal robes. It was too warm.
So I perched on my chair in leggings and tunic, considering if taking my boots off was a move to close too breaking etiquette for my station, and I stared at the pile. There shouldn’t be this many dispatches from Standora. Not during the height of the growing season.
My city of Orrin was the third largest city in the queendom of Issura and its second largest port. Normally, we would only have our share of petty crime, property damage from brawling sailors, and the occasional stabbing when a brawl got out of hand before the city peacekeepers arrived to break it up.
But ever since I was assigned, or rather sentenced, as the city’s chief justice a little over a year ago, it seemed like the Twelve decided to up the ante. Especially over the last six months. And I was hoping for, or dreading, some more information in today’s dispatches about one problem in particular.
I ran my fingertips over the seals of the various pieces of parchments until I found the one with the personal sigil of the Reverend Mother herself. I cracked the wax and brushed my fingers over the raised symbols of the Temple of Balance to read them. Even though I was no longer totally blind like the rest of my sisterhood, I couldn’t discern the difference between ink and parchment as sighted people did. There wasn’t a large enough difference in the level of heat for me to read ink writing.
As I suspected she would but I desperately wished otherwise, the Reverend Mother failed to give me any more details about Gerd’s escape from custody in Standora. I wanted to throw the tiny scroll across the room. Gerd, the former high sister of Orrin’s Temple of Love, may be my birth mother, but she was insane and dangerous and on the loose.
Not necessarily in that order, and I was at the top of her list of people she wanted dead.
The Reverend Mother should have tried and executed Gerd months ago after she was discovered demon dealing among her multiple other crimes. Once again, the Reverend Mother failed to explain in her letter why Gerd was still alive, much less how the Mad Whore removed shackles designed to inhibit her magical talents, killed a warden and escaped from the capital. I crumpled the parchment and threw it anyway, knowing my senior clerk Donella would merely give me disapproving looks when she carefully smoothed is out and added it to the official records.
The wadded ball barely missed Sivan’s head as she entered my office with my breakfast. I received the disapproving look earlier than expected. My personal assistant and head of household shoved aside some other documents with her elbow, set the tray on my desk, and turned to close the door.
“I’m sorry Sivan,” I said.
She bent to pick up the wadded parchment and examined the broken seal as she straightened. “I’m assuming you weren’t happy with whatever the Reverend Mother said.”
“More like her lack of saying anything,” I grumbled. “Dragonfly has gotten more information from the Reverend Mother of Love than I have from Balance. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my own Reverend Mother hopes Gerd will succeed in killing me this time around.”
“I doubt it,” Sivan said dryly. “She went to too much trouble to force you to be Orrin’s chief justice.” She carefully straightened the parchment I’d thrown and laid it on the pile of dispatches I hadn’t read yet. “Not to mention, it’s been over a month since Gerd escaped. She’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them. She probably hightailed it for the Gray Mountains. Get through those before the snows start, especially with a death sentence here.”
“The Reverend Mother of Love seemed rather certain Gerd would head south to seek revenge,” I said.
“As I just said, Gerd’s—” Sivan started.
“Not stupid,” I finished while I poured a cup of tea from the steaming ceramic pot on the tray. “But she makes less sense than a Wixáritari Wildling priestess using peyōtl.”
Sivan shrugged. “Let’s try a different subject. How long are you planning to mope about the Temple?”
“I am not moping,” I said. “And definitely not about Gerd.”
“You’ve been moping ever since you found out Sister Claudia is carrying High Brother Luc’s child.” Sivan folded her arms across her chest. “And it’s gotten worse now that she’s showing. You say you’ve accepted the edict—”
I leaned my elbows on my desk and propped my chin on my fists. “She asked me to attend the birth.”
“Oh. Oh, dear.” Sivan dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs without my permission, but I didn’t have the heart to chide her over the etiquette misstep.
Maybe I wanted someone to talk to about this situation. I couldn’t talk to Yanaba. She was also pregnant thanks to the stupid edict.
I couldn’t talk to Elizabeth either. She had been raped and tortured for nearly a year when the renegades secretly took over our sister city Tandor, so she had a special dispensation excluding her from the order to procreate. Feeling pity for myself because I was barren seemed like a terrible thing to complain about to a friend and fellow justice who’d suffered so much.
And I’d been born barren and blind thanks to my birth mother’s attempt to illegally abort me.
“What did you tell Claudia?” Sivan said softly.
“I tried to jest about it, saying we should see how I handle Yanaba’s delivery first.” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. Part of me hates her for giving Luc what I can’t—”
“Stop right there.” Sivan held up her right palm. “This isn’t about what you want. Or even what Luc and Claudia want. They would never have lain together if it weren’t for that damn edict.”
“And the other, logical, part of me knows that. This is about breeding as many children with Light and Balance talent as we can.” I groaned and laid my forehead on my desk. “What is wrong with me, Sivan?”
“Felicitations, Chief Justice. You’ve finally joined the human race.”
I rolled my head to the side so I could look at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You hold yourself, and everyone else around you, to impossible standards.” Sivan shook her head. “As a result, you make yourself and everyone around you miserable.”
I sat upright and glared at her. “Excuse me for trying to adhere—”
Someone banged on my office door. “Chief Justice Anthea!” my head warden Little Bear called out. Another round of banging as Sivan rose and opened the door.
“What the demon are you carrying on about?” she snapped.
He shot her a sheepish grin and whispered, “Sorry, m’love,” before he turned to me and inclined his head. “I apologize for intruding before you’ve finished your first pot of tea, Chief Justice, but there’s a messenger from Love who says it’s quite urgent he speak to you.”
“Send them in.”
Little Bear gestured. It wasn’t one of the stablehands or one of the priestesses’ children as I expected. Ichik, Sister Claudia’s personal assistant, appeared in the doorway. They wore the standard uniform of the staff of the Temple of Love, but their long hair was loose. Whatever had happened, they hadn’t had a chance to do one the intricate hairstyles the staff of Love were known for before rushing to Balance. They were also slightly out of breath.
Ichik bowed. “Please forgive the intrusion, Chief Justice, and my disarray. The high sister begs most urgently for your presence in her chambers.”
The alarm rolling of the eunuch spiked a rush of my own nerves. Why hadn’t Dragonfly sent her own personal assistant?
“What happened?” I rose and reached for my formal robes, sword and harness hanging from their pegs. “Is Dragonfly all right?”
“No, Lady Justice.” Ichik’s voice shook. “She is not all right. No one in the Temple of Love is. She asks that you come immediately.” Between their fear and their loyalty to Dragonfly and Claudia, I wasn’t going to get more anything out of them.
I glanced with longing at the steaming cup on my desk as I donned my gear. So much for having my first pot of Jing tea before disaster struck.
Sivan caught my yearning look. “I’ll brew a fresh round for you when you return, m’lady.”
Little Bear exited my office, but his bellow for Gina and Dezba echoed through the Temple corridors. The two female wardens were a better choice of accompanying me. After the awful things Gerd and her cohorts had done to the sisters of Love, the priestesses had a tendency to draw weapons first and ask questions later when it came to armed men. The eunuchs that served them were barely tolerated right now as it was, despite the Temple of Child doing their best to heal the priestesses’ spirits.
Gina and Dezba ran up to me as I entered the courtroom with Ichik trailing behind me. Balance didn’t have a true sanctuary as the other eleven Temples did. The citizens didn’t worship her. Balance meted out what a person deserved, and no amount of pleading or prayer swayed her. That was why her priestesses, like Yanaba, Elizabeth, and me, meted out judgement for wrongdoers and restitution for victims.
“Horses, m’lady?” Gina asked as I strode toward the main doors.
“No, it’s not worth the time to saddle them, but let’s give Dezba a moment to fix her attire.” I raised an eyebrow as the young warden attempted to secure her padded leather jerkin. From her damp hair that was merely braided instead of pinned up like Gina’s, Dezba had been rousted from her bath.
“My apologies, Lady Justice,” she murmured as her skin went from orange to red while she struggled with the laces.
I shook my head. “If Ichik here had been half a candlemark earlier, I would be in the same position. However, we do have an image to maintain in public.”
With Gina’s assistance, Dezba was presentable within three breaths.
I exited through the main door with a nod to Warden Ahiga who stood guard, jogged down the marbles steps, and strode at a brisk clip toward the Temple of Love. My wardens and Ichik trailed behind me.
It was earlier enough in the morning that traffic was light on Orrin’s main thoroughfare. A few people gave us curious looks, but for the most part everyone ignored us. It probably had something to do with my lecture to the citizens of Orrin last month about knowing when to mind their own business and knowing to speak up when they learn of an injustice.
It also meant there were fewer spies watching me these days.
When we reached the Temple of Love, Sister Shada met us in the foyer. She wasn’t wearing her formal robes or veil. For a brief instant, I feared something may have happened to Claudia and her unborn child. But surely, Dragonfly would have sent for a master healer, not me.
Shada bowed. “This way, Chief Justice.”
From the whispers of the other priestesses and servants, not everyone knew what was going on. Like Shada, none of the priestesses were dressed in their formal wear. It wasn’t like Dragonfly or Claudia to keep secrets from the sisters either. My gut clenched as I matched Shada’s pace back to the priestesses’ private quarters.
Shada knocked softly on the door. Love’s Chief Warden Citana opened the door to Dragonfly’s bedchambers just enough to see who it was. Citana relaxed a bit when she saw me. Shada inclined her head to me.
“Call if you need additional assistance, Chief Justice.” The silence as she walked away was unnerving. I was too used to the tinkling of the silver bells that adorned the robes of the Love priestesses.
Citana opened the door wide enough to admit me and my companions. The weeping and jingle of bells drew me past the sitting room into the main bedroom.
Claudia sat on the huge wooden platform bed and held a crying Dragonfly. Claudia wore a plain linen nightshift, her braids cascading down her back. Dragonfly was the first person in Love I saw in formal robes though her public veil had been removed. Her bright yellow tears soaked the shoulder of Claudia’s shift.
Dragonfly’s second nodded toward the door to the bathing room.
I didn’t want to see what had disturbed Dragonfly so, but I forced my boots in that direction. I stopped at the doorway. Gina peered into the room beside me.
A body floated in the pool of jasmine-scented, orange-hot bath water. Equally orange writing marred one of the deep blue marble walls.
“Please tell me the message was written with bath water,” I whispered.
Gina swallowed hard. “It’s not m’lady.”
In large orange letters, the message read, “You’re next, bitch.”
Friday, June 19, 2020
Monday, June 8, 2020
Hero De Jure - Chapter 2
Aisha grabbed the receiver from her phone set, hit the button beside the flashing light, and leaned back in her chair. “Hi, Nella! What can I do for you?”
“Is Winters & Franklin going to issue a statement about Ultramegaperson’s arrest?” the producer blurted.
Shock ran through Aisha. She concentrated a bit. With her enhanced hearing, she could tell Harri was on the phone with their client. Part of her had been upset to know what she thought had been HRSP, as hormone-related superpowers was known colloquially, wasn’t going away after her son Mitch’s birth. But sometimes, her new abilities came in handy.
“We can’t comment on the alleged arrest at this time,” Aisha said. “Not until we have a chance to talk to our client.”
“You didn’t know, did you?” Nella accused.
“Sorry, Nella, you know I can’t officially answer that.”
“But off the record?” the producer prompted.
“Would you want me telling your secrets?”
“Come on, Aisha.” Nella’s tone was somewhere between wheedling and threatening. “You don’t want other people controlling your client’s story.”
Aisha rolled her eyes even though Nella couldn’t see the expression. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to sic Ted on us if I don’t say something now?” Ted Meadowfield, Essie’s co-anchor, would literally sell his own mother for ratings. Especially after he lost out on a chance at an on-air reporting job at CBS. Calling the president of the news division’s wife a bitch he’d like to tap in front of said president hadn’t won him any admirers.
And Ted hated Harri with a passion matched only by the members of Corvus, a black-ops group who had been illegally recruiting supers.
“It’ll be harder for me to keep Ted on a leash if you don’t give Essie something to use,” Nella said.
“Blackmailer.” Aisha knew there was a symbiotic relationship between the news makers and the news reporters. It didn’t mean she liked it. She considered what spin to use. “We just received the official notice a few minutes before you called. I haven’t talked with the San Francisco D.A.’s office or the Justice Department yet to find out the specific charges.”
Well, that part was technically true. Aisha glanced at her computer screen for the current time. “Give me until three. Essie will have an exclusive statement for tonight’s prime time broadcast.”
“Deal!” Nella’s voice was a little too gleeful. “But if you’re a minute late, I’m going to have to run with what Ted learned.”
Aisha’s heart pounded. “What are you talking about?”
“Maybe you should talk to your client first.” Nella’s switch to reluctance set off alarms in Aisha’s brain.
“I’m not going to hang a client out to dry if you’re planning to boil them anyway,” Aisha bit out. “Spill.”
“The governor of California and his security team were on the Golden Gate when it was hit.”
Aisha fell back in her chair and struggled to breath. “Is this confirmed?”
“Yeah,” Nella said softly. “The web cameras on the bridge caught the governor’s cortege falling. Our direct source has a close-up from a personal drone camera.”
“May I please have a copy of the drone footage?”
The news producer hesitated a moment. “Our source didn’t want to be named.”
“I understand wanting to protect your sources, Nella,” Aisha said gently. “But this source may have information as to who’s really at fault here.”
“You sure you’re not just covering your bottom line?”
“Frankly, that would be a certain partner’s chief concern, but I left Dewey & Cheatham because they didn’t give a rat’s ass about the people underneath the masks or the civilians caught in the crossfire in these battles.” Aisha waited a beat before she added, “Whoever was behind the Golden Gate Bridge incident needs to pay for what they’ve done.”
“All right,” Nella finally said. “But you don’t get the footage until I get a statement.”
“Agreed. Thanks for telling me about the video.” Aisha swallowed hard. “I’ll talk to you before three.” She tapped the button to end the call and buried her face in her hands.
Oh, god. Ultramegaperson was so fucked.
“Is Winters & Franklin going to issue a statement about Ultramegaperson’s arrest?” the producer blurted.
Shock ran through Aisha. She concentrated a bit. With her enhanced hearing, she could tell Harri was on the phone with their client. Part of her had been upset to know what she thought had been HRSP, as hormone-related superpowers was known colloquially, wasn’t going away after her son Mitch’s birth. But sometimes, her new abilities came in handy.
“We can’t comment on the alleged arrest at this time,” Aisha said. “Not until we have a chance to talk to our client.”
“You didn’t know, did you?” Nella accused.
“Sorry, Nella, you know I can’t officially answer that.”
“But off the record?” the producer prompted.
“Would you want me telling your secrets?”
“Come on, Aisha.” Nella’s tone was somewhere between wheedling and threatening. “You don’t want other people controlling your client’s story.”
Aisha rolled her eyes even though Nella couldn’t see the expression. “Is that your way of saying you’re going to sic Ted on us if I don’t say something now?” Ted Meadowfield, Essie’s co-anchor, would literally sell his own mother for ratings. Especially after he lost out on a chance at an on-air reporting job at CBS. Calling the president of the news division’s wife a bitch he’d like to tap in front of said president hadn’t won him any admirers.
And Ted hated Harri with a passion matched only by the members of Corvus, a black-ops group who had been illegally recruiting supers.
“It’ll be harder for me to keep Ted on a leash if you don’t give Essie something to use,” Nella said.
“Blackmailer.” Aisha knew there was a symbiotic relationship between the news makers and the news reporters. It didn’t mean she liked it. She considered what spin to use. “We just received the official notice a few minutes before you called. I haven’t talked with the San Francisco D.A.’s office or the Justice Department yet to find out the specific charges.”
Well, that part was technically true. Aisha glanced at her computer screen for the current time. “Give me until three. Essie will have an exclusive statement for tonight’s prime time broadcast.”
“Deal!” Nella’s voice was a little too gleeful. “But if you’re a minute late, I’m going to have to run with what Ted learned.”
Aisha’s heart pounded. “What are you talking about?”
“Maybe you should talk to your client first.” Nella’s switch to reluctance set off alarms in Aisha’s brain.
“I’m not going to hang a client out to dry if you’re planning to boil them anyway,” Aisha bit out. “Spill.”
“The governor of California and his security team were on the Golden Gate when it was hit.”
Aisha fell back in her chair and struggled to breath. “Is this confirmed?”
“Yeah,” Nella said softly. “The web cameras on the bridge caught the governor’s cortege falling. Our direct source has a close-up from a personal drone camera.”
“May I please have a copy of the drone footage?”
The news producer hesitated a moment. “Our source didn’t want to be named.”
“I understand wanting to protect your sources, Nella,” Aisha said gently. “But this source may have information as to who’s really at fault here.”
“You sure you’re not just covering your bottom line?”
“Frankly, that would be a certain partner’s chief concern, but I left Dewey & Cheatham because they didn’t give a rat’s ass about the people underneath the masks or the civilians caught in the crossfire in these battles.” Aisha waited a beat before she added, “Whoever was behind the Golden Gate Bridge incident needs to pay for what they’ve done.”
“All right,” Nella finally said. “But you don’t get the footage until I get a statement.”
“Agreed. Thanks for telling me about the video.” Aisha swallowed hard. “I’ll talk to you before three.” She tapped the button to end the call and buried her face in her hands.
Oh, god. Ultramegaperson was so fucked.
Monday, June 1, 2020
Hero De Jure - Chapter 1
Here's the first chapter from the latest 888-555-HERO adventure! Hero De Jure will be release June 15th!
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“Harri!”
Patty Ames’s shriek proceeded her bursting through Harri Winters’ office door, her blond curls bouncing in her wake. “You’ve got to see this!” She rushed to Harri’s second hand maple desk and grabbed the TV remote, her pale face even whiter than usual.
The Action 12! News logo flashed in the bottom right corner of the supersize screen hanging on the wall opposite from Harri’s desk. But it wasn’t Canyon Pointe’s skyline in the video.
Instead, a panoramic view of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge filled the screen. The bridge glowed under the rising sun.
Until a dark blur hit the north end of the city’s famous landmark.
Cables snapped and flailed. Bits and pieces fell, but from the distant perspective, they were probably slabs of pavement and chunks of metal larger than Harri’s ancient Honda. Vehicles tumbled hundreds of feet into the vicious Bay current. Harri covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming as well. They were watching innocent commuters plunging to their deaths. Even if every super in California and the surrounding states had been there, they couldn’t have saved everyone.
Aisha, Susan, and Arthur darted into Harri’s office and stared at the TV screen, no doubt their attention drawn by Patty’s shriek.
“…current death toll is unknown. The damage to the San Francisco icon allegedly happened during a battle between Ultramegaperson and Doctor Liquidation that started at the San Francisco Federal Reserve.” The camera shot switched to Action 12!’s evening co-anchor Essie Morales in the studio. This level of carnage required someone with poise, which Essie had in spades.
The analytical part of Harri wondered if Essie had beaten her co-anchor Ted Meadowfield to the studio, or if their producer Nella Lopez hadn’t bothered to call him this morning. Ted never quite grasped the necessity of simply being polite to your co-workers.
Essie’s concerned-journalist expression was firmly fixed on her beautiful face. “Ultramegaperson is assisting the Coast Guard in rescue efforts. Guy Montana, spokesman for the National Superhero Bureau, says a thorough investigation will be undertaken once all victims have been retrieved.
“In other news, the Dow Jones—”
“Victims retrieved” was reporter-speak the body recovery for an obscene number of deaths.
Patty hit the mute button and set the remote back on Harri’s desk. “You want me to call them.”
Harri wearily shook her head at Patty’s reference to the NSB. “No. Ultramegaperson will call us when they’re able. No comment until we decide how we need to spin this.”
The law firm’s assistant nodded. Before she could take a step, the phone lines at her desk out in the reception area started buzzing. Patty rolled her eyes.
“What a way to start a Monday morning.” She strode out of Harri’s office.
“Arthur—”
“On it. I’ll see what I can retrieve.” Arthur Drallhickey, the firm’s head of IT and a reformed supervillain himself, charged out the office door. If anyone could dig through the bureaucratic bullshit and learn the truth, it was him. Harri ignored the fact that some of his techniques weren’t exactly ethical. Or legal. But they needed as much information as they could get about the incident, especially since one of their top clients was involved in this mess.
“You two have any bright ideas?” Harri leaned her right elbow on the desktop, set her chin on her palm, and stared at her legal partners.
Aisha Franklin shook her head. Her hair no longer flipped all over the place. She had their closest friend Jeremy slice off her dreads not long after she delivered her first-born. Baby Mitch had a tendency to yank on them.
Hard enough she feared baldness. However, she pulled off the super-short, henna’d afro Jeremy had styled.
“We need more information first.” Aisha gestured toward the TV screen which was replaying the top news story after Essie’s brief update on other headlines. “What hit the bridge?”
“Considering its size, it wasn’t a person.” Susan Kennedy pushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear while she watched the replay closely. Harri had hired their former law school classmate nearly a year ago to cover for Aisha during maternity leave. Susan had an excellent legal mind, a ton of trial experience, and was pretty damn patient considering the chaos Harri and Aisha’s personal lives had been during the initial months Susan was with them.
Out in the reception area, Harri could hear Patty repeating, “No comment,” like it was a Buddhist mantra.
Aisha stalked over to the office door and closed it. “Now’s when I really wish I could drink coffee again.”
“Wean Mitch early.” Harri grinned at her partner.
“Your godson’s only four months old.” Aisha gave her a dirty look. “He’s not even eating solids yet.”
“But is he flying yet?” Harri continued to tease.
If Aisha had laser vision in her superpower arsenal, Harri would have been a crispy critter.
“When you two are finished bickering—” Susan started to say, but Harri’s intercom buzzed, interrupting her.
Patty wouldn’t interrupt them unless this was super important.
Harri poked the appropriate button on her phone set. “Yes?”
“Nella is on line one,” Patty chirped.
“I’ll handle Nella. Transfer her to my office, Patty.” Aisha strode toward the office door. “Find out what hit Golden Gate, and you’d better hope it wasn’t something our client actually did.” She left, closing the door once again. No doubt Nella Lopez, Action 12! News’s senior producer, was hoping to finagle an exclusive out of Aisha. Harri would be the first to admit her best friend was better at handling the publicity side of their boutique clientele.
“She’s right.” Susan snatched the remote and thumbed the slow-motion button as Action 12! News began to replay their film of the morning’s incident for the fourth time.
Ultramegaperson could be the biggest twat waffle on the planet, but they had come through when Aisha needed some help last Christmas. And the fees from the trans superhero alone kept the firm afloat this year.
That money was a godsend. Aisha wanted a careful well-thought-out plan to introduce hers and her husband Rey Garcia’s new superhero identities. She also wanted to shed the baby weight before she squeezed into spandex again.
The rush job they’d done with Rey’s first persona, Captain Justice, had blown up in their faces thanks to the supervillain Professor Paranoia. The saving grace was they knew Paranoia was roasting in a top security prison in Japan. The intercom buzzed again, and Harri tapped the button. “Yeah, Patty?”
“Ultramegaperson is on line two.”
Harri hit the speaker function. “Hey, Ultra! Susan’s here with me. What do you need?”
“Um, Harri,” the superhero said hesitantly. “I’m under arrest.”
===================
“Harri!”
Patty Ames’s shriek proceeded her bursting through Harri Winters’ office door, her blond curls bouncing in her wake. “You’ve got to see this!” She rushed to Harri’s second hand maple desk and grabbed the TV remote, her pale face even whiter than usual.
The Action 12! News logo flashed in the bottom right corner of the supersize screen hanging on the wall opposite from Harri’s desk. But it wasn’t Canyon Pointe’s skyline in the video.
Instead, a panoramic view of San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge filled the screen. The bridge glowed under the rising sun.
Until a dark blur hit the north end of the city’s famous landmark.
Cables snapped and flailed. Bits and pieces fell, but from the distant perspective, they were probably slabs of pavement and chunks of metal larger than Harri’s ancient Honda. Vehicles tumbled hundreds of feet into the vicious Bay current. Harri covered her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming as well. They were watching innocent commuters plunging to their deaths. Even if every super in California and the surrounding states had been there, they couldn’t have saved everyone.
Aisha, Susan, and Arthur darted into Harri’s office and stared at the TV screen, no doubt their attention drawn by Patty’s shriek.
“…current death toll is unknown. The damage to the San Francisco icon allegedly happened during a battle between Ultramegaperson and Doctor Liquidation that started at the San Francisco Federal Reserve.” The camera shot switched to Action 12!’s evening co-anchor Essie Morales in the studio. This level of carnage required someone with poise, which Essie had in spades.
The analytical part of Harri wondered if Essie had beaten her co-anchor Ted Meadowfield to the studio, or if their producer Nella Lopez hadn’t bothered to call him this morning. Ted never quite grasped the necessity of simply being polite to your co-workers.
Essie’s concerned-journalist expression was firmly fixed on her beautiful face. “Ultramegaperson is assisting the Coast Guard in rescue efforts. Guy Montana, spokesman for the National Superhero Bureau, says a thorough investigation will be undertaken once all victims have been retrieved.
“In other news, the Dow Jones—”
“Victims retrieved” was reporter-speak the body recovery for an obscene number of deaths.
Patty hit the mute button and set the remote back on Harri’s desk. “You want me to call them.”
Harri wearily shook her head at Patty’s reference to the NSB. “No. Ultramegaperson will call us when they’re able. No comment until we decide how we need to spin this.”
The law firm’s assistant nodded. Before she could take a step, the phone lines at her desk out in the reception area started buzzing. Patty rolled her eyes.
“What a way to start a Monday morning.” She strode out of Harri’s office.
“Arthur—”
“On it. I’ll see what I can retrieve.” Arthur Drallhickey, the firm’s head of IT and a reformed supervillain himself, charged out the office door. If anyone could dig through the bureaucratic bullshit and learn the truth, it was him. Harri ignored the fact that some of his techniques weren’t exactly ethical. Or legal. But they needed as much information as they could get about the incident, especially since one of their top clients was involved in this mess.
“You two have any bright ideas?” Harri leaned her right elbow on the desktop, set her chin on her palm, and stared at her legal partners.
Aisha Franklin shook her head. Her hair no longer flipped all over the place. She had their closest friend Jeremy slice off her dreads not long after she delivered her first-born. Baby Mitch had a tendency to yank on them.
Hard enough she feared baldness. However, she pulled off the super-short, henna’d afro Jeremy had styled.
“We need more information first.” Aisha gestured toward the TV screen which was replaying the top news story after Essie’s brief update on other headlines. “What hit the bridge?”
“Considering its size, it wasn’t a person.” Susan Kennedy pushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear while she watched the replay closely. Harri had hired their former law school classmate nearly a year ago to cover for Aisha during maternity leave. Susan had an excellent legal mind, a ton of trial experience, and was pretty damn patient considering the chaos Harri and Aisha’s personal lives had been during the initial months Susan was with them.
Out in the reception area, Harri could hear Patty repeating, “No comment,” like it was a Buddhist mantra.
Aisha stalked over to the office door and closed it. “Now’s when I really wish I could drink coffee again.”
“Wean Mitch early.” Harri grinned at her partner.
“Your godson’s only four months old.” Aisha gave her a dirty look. “He’s not even eating solids yet.”
“But is he flying yet?” Harri continued to tease.
If Aisha had laser vision in her superpower arsenal, Harri would have been a crispy critter.
“When you two are finished bickering—” Susan started to say, but Harri’s intercom buzzed, interrupting her.
Patty wouldn’t interrupt them unless this was super important.
Harri poked the appropriate button on her phone set. “Yes?”
“Nella is on line one,” Patty chirped.
“I’ll handle Nella. Transfer her to my office, Patty.” Aisha strode toward the office door. “Find out what hit Golden Gate, and you’d better hope it wasn’t something our client actually did.” She left, closing the door once again. No doubt Nella Lopez, Action 12! News’s senior producer, was hoping to finagle an exclusive out of Aisha. Harri would be the first to admit her best friend was better at handling the publicity side of their boutique clientele.
“She’s right.” Susan snatched the remote and thumbed the slow-motion button as Action 12! News began to replay their film of the morning’s incident for the fourth time.
Ultramegaperson could be the biggest twat waffle on the planet, but they had come through when Aisha needed some help last Christmas. And the fees from the trans superhero alone kept the firm afloat this year.
That money was a godsend. Aisha wanted a careful well-thought-out plan to introduce hers and her husband Rey Garcia’s new superhero identities. She also wanted to shed the baby weight before she squeezed into spandex again.
The rush job they’d done with Rey’s first persona, Captain Justice, had blown up in their faces thanks to the supervillain Professor Paranoia. The saving grace was they knew Paranoia was roasting in a top security prison in Japan. The intercom buzzed again, and Harri tapped the button. “Yeah, Patty?”
“Ultramegaperson is on line two.”
Harri hit the speaker function. “Hey, Ultra! Susan’s here with me. What do you need?”
“Um, Harri,” the superhero said hesitantly. “I’m under arrest.”
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
An "I Need Something to Cope" Extravaganza!
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I'll be running sales through the rest of the year because I know I'm not the only one with their nose buried in a book in order to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic.
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Monday, May 18, 2020
Off Sale
I've temporarily removed the three Millersburg Magick Mysteries from sale on Amazon.
I could fill several blogs with the reasons, but it comes down to COVID-19. This was supposed to be a light-hearted series, a la Scooby-Doo but with real magick. The final results are not what I hoped to accomplish with this series. Add in some mistakes because my head's not in the game. Top it off with supporting friends who've lost loved ones in the pandemic. It all equals to an emotionally fried mind and soul.
I'm planning to re-do this series. It's not normally what I would do as a writer. But y'all deserve my best efforts, and I don't think I delivered. Millersburg Magick Mysteries will be re-released later the summer.
In the meantime, I'll finish Hero De Jure because this story puts me in a much better headspace. Well, superheroes and lemon Oreos do.
I could fill several blogs with the reasons, but it comes down to COVID-19. This was supposed to be a light-hearted series, a la Scooby-Doo but with real magick. The final results are not what I hoped to accomplish with this series. Add in some mistakes because my head's not in the game. Top it off with supporting friends who've lost loved ones in the pandemic. It all equals to an emotionally fried mind and soul.
I'm planning to re-do this series. It's not normally what I would do as a writer. But y'all deserve my best efforts, and I don't think I delivered. Millersburg Magick Mysteries will be re-released later the summer.
In the meantime, I'll finish Hero De Jure because this story puts me in a much better headspace. Well, superheroes and lemon Oreos do.
Monday, May 11, 2020
Magick and Murder - Chapter 4
This is the last sample before Magick and Murder's release on Friday.
======================
Standing in canned fruits and vegetables aisle at the IGA, Kaley checked her list again and made a face. “Now where the heck is the cranberry sauce?”
“End cap.” River Martin pointed to the other end of the aisle. “All the canned pumpkin is down there, too.”
It was kind of weird shopping with him like they were a couple. Which they weren’t. At least, not officially though Donny and Mandy Jenkins teased her about it. Kaley consulted the list. “Then, we need green beans, fried onions, and mushrooms.”
“Whole, cut, or French-style?” he asked.
“Whole. Six cans.” She grabbed two canisters of the crunchy fried onions.
“Pieces or slices?”
“Slices. 2 small cans or one large.”
River paused with the large can in his hand. “What do these go in?”
“The green bean casserole, silly.”
He frowned. “No one I know puts mushrooms in green bean casserole.”
“They use cream of mushroom soup, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Your people dance around mushrooms. That’s the reason they’re called fairy circles.” She waved her hand nonchalantly. He shook his head and made a face at her. “That’s so racist.”
She cocked her head. “How?”
“Do you make jokes about Donny Fryer peeing on hydrants? Do you make cracks about Carmen Alonzo driving a taco truck?” “Oh.” Kaley winced. “I didn’t think about it that way. I’m really sorry.”
“Not to mention fairy is right up there with the n-word.” River made a slashing motion with his hand. “That’s a good way to find yourself at the pointy end of a sword.”
“The pointy end of a sword?” She grinned.
Red flooded his face and ears, which were decidedly round like his Normal mom’s were.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Do tell.” She giggled.
River ignored her comment and tugged on the basket end of their shopping cart. “What’s next on the list?”
“Nice try in changing the subject.” But she consulted her list. “We also need raisins for the mincemeat pie.”
River made a face. “Mincemeat?”
Kaley rolled her eyes as they walked to the end of the aisle where the dried fruit was. “Dad loves it, and Mom made a point of asking Grandma Wilson for the recipe before she passed away. Personally, I’m not a big fan of meaty and sweetie in the same dish.”
“So no pineapple with your ham?” He grabbed a bag of the store-brand raisins.
“That’s the one exception,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket. A sick feeling ran through her as she read Kirsten’s message. A ton of curse words ran through her mind. She whirled around, examining each face. Where would the next threat come from?
“Hey.” River grabbed her arm. “What happened?”
She couldn’t say a word past the lump of fear in her throat. She’d never been afraid of people in her hometown. Not before today.
River gently cupped her right hand and raised it so he could see her phone screen. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.
“Let’s get your mom’s groceries,” he said softly. “That’ll be one thing off her mind. And Grandma and I will definitely be at your house on Thursday.”
Kaley swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s bringing the sweet potatoes, right?”
He grinned. “With lots of marshmallow fluff.”
“Fluff? No mini-marshmallows?”
“Trust me, you like this better. More marshmallow to potato flavor.”
“All right.” She nodded again.
River released her hand, and she found herself missing his touch. She shoved her phone back in her jeans pocket and snatched up Mom’s list to cover her discomfiture. “Let’s grab the cranberry sauce and pumpkin before heading to the dairy section.”
They raced as quickly as they could around the other shoppers and collected the remainder of Mom’s grocery list. Except when they reached the check-out lanes, other shoppers stared at her. However, it wasn’t the usual friendly faces of people recognizing one of the senior cheerleaders from her letterman jacket.
The elderly woman in line in front of Kaley gave her an odd look before she crossed herself. Now, what was that all about? Kaley frowned It wasn’t like she was wearing pentacles, and there was no way the woman could know about her steel triquetra key chain. The elderly woman slammed the divider down after her items and glared at Kaley as if daring her to move it.
She swallowed her unease. They just needed to get the groceries rung up and paid for so they could get the heck out of the grocery store. She and River unloaded items of the cart onto the conveyor belt.
Thankfully, they were in Shannon Murphy’s lane. Shannon had been Kaley and Kirsten’s babysitter when they were little. Her husband passed away shortly after he retired, she started working at the grocery store, more to do something than to supplement her savings.
“Hey, Shannon.”
“Hey, kiddo!” Shannon’s wide smile helped ease the tension in Kaley’s shoulders. “Your mom gotcha doing the Thanksgiving shopping, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s doing things up big since she’s afraid Kirsten and I will never come home for a holiday again.” Kaley grabbed her stack of reusable bags and started sacking groceries.
“And your friend?” Shannon said coyly.
“River, this is our friend Shannon.” Kaley chuckled at her former babysitter’s antics. “River is Cissy Martin’s grandson.”
“I’d heard Heather and her boy had moved back here. Nice to meet you River.” Shannon nodded to him.
“Ma’am.” He moved to the end of the line and started putting the cold items into the insulated bag.
“Kaley Wilson!”
Goddess, what now? She steeled herself before she turned to face Mrs. Ryder. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Your mother is just as dangerous as you are!” Mrs. Ryder shrieked as she waved her phone in Kaley’s face.
“What?” Kaley couldn’t make out anything on the video playing on the phone with Mrs. Ryder’s jerky motions. River inserted himself in front of Mrs. Ryder and grabbed her wrist in mid-swing. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“Let me go,” she spat.
“Then quit trying to hit Kaley,” he bit back.
“What’s going on here?” The store manager Mr. Bickle strode toward Shannon’s aisle, a distraught expression on his face. “Why are allowing those people to shop in your store?” Mrs. Ryder screeched.
“What people?” Mr. Bickle looked thoroughly confused.
“That bitch put a hex on my daughter!” Mrs. Ryder pointed at Kaley.
“Your daughter tried to hit me, and I ducked,” Kaley protested. “It’s not my fault she’s a clumsy cow and screwed up her knee.”
“Ladies, please.” Mr. Bickle looked like he was about to cry behind his wire rims.
“Of course, you get it straight from your mother!” Mrs. Ryder shook her fist at Kaley.
Shannon waddled from behind her register. “Do we need to call the police, or are you going to leave quietly?”
“You’re going let that little bitch stay?” Mrs. Ryder’s shock that someone took Kaley’s side was mirrored by a few other people. Everyone else simply appeared disgusted.
Shannon crossed her arms and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “That little girl ain’t the one causing a scene in public. You are. Now, once again, do I need to call the police?”
Realizing Shannon was the proverbial immoveable object, Mrs. Ryder turned to Mr. Bickle. “Are you going to let your employee insult me like that?”
The manager seemed to find his backbone. He straightened and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “The only one tossing out insults and creating a disturbance is you.”
“I’m going to report you to the owner,” Mrs. Ryder said.
Shannon pointed overhead. “Make sure you tell him about the security video capturing your performance when you call him. Oh, wait. Isn’t Ron Schneider your ex-husband?”
Mrs. Ryder blinked rapidly, shocked by the turnaround in circumstances. More than half of the crowd watching the drama tittered. Seeing no allies, she pivoted and marched out of the grocery store.
Shannon waddled back to her register. Kaley tried to breathe normally as she slipped Mom’s debit card into the reader. It took a couple of tries to get the PIN right. She could feel all the eyes on her. Finally, the device beeped, and she pulled out the card.
River had bagged the rest of the groceries and loaded them into the cart.
Shannon handed Kaley the receipt and gave her a reassuring smile. “You tell your mom and dad hello for me.”
“I will.” Kaley waved. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too, darling.”
Kaley and River headed for the exit. She sagged when she saw Mrs. Ryder still in the parking lot. Amelia’s mom was speaking with a man Kaley didn’t recognize.
He was a few inches taller than Mrs. Rider. He wore a leather jacket and jeans. His dark hair was just long enough not to be a buzz cut, but too short to be a crew cut. But the most prominent feature was a jagged scar down his cheek. The pair looked toward Kaley and River with ugly expressions on their faces.
Kaley and River quickly loaded their bags into the back of his blue PT Cruiser. Mrs. Ryder and the gentleman with her were still staring at them.
“Take a selfie,” River whispered.
“What?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her so their backs were to Mrs. Ryder and the stranger. Her body immediately warmed at his touch, but she did as he asked and took a picture of the two of them.
“Can you do a close-up of the guy with Mrs. Ryder?” River whispered.
Kirsten swallowed and changed the settings. River nodded when he saw the resulting photo. “Send a copy to me.”
“Why?” “In case anything happens to your phone. Get in the car,” River whispered. “I’ll take care of the cart.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Kaley whispered back.
“Who? Me?” River shot her a devilish grin.
That expression sent a shiver through her. No wonder Olivia Burke looked at him like a prime Angus steak. Kaley could see why River’s mom had fallen under his dad’s spell. She nodded and climbed into his car.
It never failed to amaze her how clean the interior of his Cruiser was compared to the cars of all the other guys in school. And it always smelled like cedar and baklava inside though he didn’t have an air freshener anywhere. She had checked.
Fae magick jabbed Kaley’s psyche, and despite the need to raise a ward, she concentrated to keep her own power from reacting to the alien sensation. River opened the driver side door and slid into the Cruiser. A self-satisfied smirk tilted his mouth.
She crossed her arms. “What did you do?”
“Nothing that’ll harm anyone.”
“What. Did. You. Do.”
“You’re not the only one who has talent with air.” He grinned and backed out of their parking space.
As they drove past Mrs. Ryder, Kaley could see the tires on her Cadillac. Especially the flat front left tire.
While she didn’t blame River, that was going to come back to bite them in the ass. Especially with the Humanity Now protesters in town.
======================
Standing in canned fruits and vegetables aisle at the IGA, Kaley checked her list again and made a face. “Now where the heck is the cranberry sauce?”
“End cap.” River Martin pointed to the other end of the aisle. “All the canned pumpkin is down there, too.”
It was kind of weird shopping with him like they were a couple. Which they weren’t. At least, not officially though Donny and Mandy Jenkins teased her about it. Kaley consulted the list. “Then, we need green beans, fried onions, and mushrooms.”
“Whole, cut, or French-style?” he asked.
“Whole. Six cans.” She grabbed two canisters of the crunchy fried onions.
“Pieces or slices?”
“Slices. 2 small cans or one large.”
River paused with the large can in his hand. “What do these go in?”
“The green bean casserole, silly.”
He frowned. “No one I know puts mushrooms in green bean casserole.”
“They use cream of mushroom soup, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Your people dance around mushrooms. That’s the reason they’re called fairy circles.” She waved her hand nonchalantly. He shook his head and made a face at her. “That’s so racist.”
She cocked her head. “How?”
“Do you make jokes about Donny Fryer peeing on hydrants? Do you make cracks about Carmen Alonzo driving a taco truck?” “Oh.” Kaley winced. “I didn’t think about it that way. I’m really sorry.”
“Not to mention fairy is right up there with the n-word.” River made a slashing motion with his hand. “That’s a good way to find yourself at the pointy end of a sword.”
“The pointy end of a sword?” She grinned.
Red flooded his face and ears, which were decidedly round like his Normal mom’s were.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Do tell.” She giggled.
River ignored her comment and tugged on the basket end of their shopping cart. “What’s next on the list?”
“Nice try in changing the subject.” But she consulted her list. “We also need raisins for the mincemeat pie.”
River made a face. “Mincemeat?”
Kaley rolled her eyes as they walked to the end of the aisle where the dried fruit was. “Dad loves it, and Mom made a point of asking Grandma Wilson for the recipe before she passed away. Personally, I’m not a big fan of meaty and sweetie in the same dish.”
“So no pineapple with your ham?” He grabbed a bag of the store-brand raisins.
“That’s the one exception,” she muttered.
Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket. A sick feeling ran through her as she read Kirsten’s message. A ton of curse words ran through her mind. She whirled around, examining each face. Where would the next threat come from?
“Hey.” River grabbed her arm. “What happened?”
She couldn’t say a word past the lump of fear in her throat. She’d never been afraid of people in her hometown. Not before today.
River gently cupped her right hand and raised it so he could see her phone screen. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.
“Let’s get your mom’s groceries,” he said softly. “That’ll be one thing off her mind. And Grandma and I will definitely be at your house on Thursday.”
Kaley swallowed hard and nodded. “She’s bringing the sweet potatoes, right?”
He grinned. “With lots of marshmallow fluff.”
“Fluff? No mini-marshmallows?”
“Trust me, you like this better. More marshmallow to potato flavor.”
“All right.” She nodded again.
River released her hand, and she found herself missing his touch. She shoved her phone back in her jeans pocket and snatched up Mom’s list to cover her discomfiture. “Let’s grab the cranberry sauce and pumpkin before heading to the dairy section.”
They raced as quickly as they could around the other shoppers and collected the remainder of Mom’s grocery list. Except when they reached the check-out lanes, other shoppers stared at her. However, it wasn’t the usual friendly faces of people recognizing one of the senior cheerleaders from her letterman jacket.
The elderly woman in line in front of Kaley gave her an odd look before she crossed herself. Now, what was that all about? Kaley frowned It wasn’t like she was wearing pentacles, and there was no way the woman could know about her steel triquetra key chain. The elderly woman slammed the divider down after her items and glared at Kaley as if daring her to move it.
She swallowed her unease. They just needed to get the groceries rung up and paid for so they could get the heck out of the grocery store. She and River unloaded items of the cart onto the conveyor belt.
Thankfully, they were in Shannon Murphy’s lane. Shannon had been Kaley and Kirsten’s babysitter when they were little. Her husband passed away shortly after he retired, she started working at the grocery store, more to do something than to supplement her savings.
“Hey, Shannon.”
“Hey, kiddo!” Shannon’s wide smile helped ease the tension in Kaley’s shoulders. “Your mom gotcha doing the Thanksgiving shopping, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s doing things up big since she’s afraid Kirsten and I will never come home for a holiday again.” Kaley grabbed her stack of reusable bags and started sacking groceries.
“And your friend?” Shannon said coyly.
“River, this is our friend Shannon.” Kaley chuckled at her former babysitter’s antics. “River is Cissy Martin’s grandson.”
“I’d heard Heather and her boy had moved back here. Nice to meet you River.” Shannon nodded to him.
“Ma’am.” He moved to the end of the line and started putting the cold items into the insulated bag.
“Kaley Wilson!”
Goddess, what now? She steeled herself before she turned to face Mrs. Ryder. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Your mother is just as dangerous as you are!” Mrs. Ryder shrieked as she waved her phone in Kaley’s face.
“What?” Kaley couldn’t make out anything on the video playing on the phone with Mrs. Ryder’s jerky motions. River inserted himself in front of Mrs. Ryder and grabbed her wrist in mid-swing. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“Let me go,” she spat.
“Then quit trying to hit Kaley,” he bit back.
“What’s going on here?” The store manager Mr. Bickle strode toward Shannon’s aisle, a distraught expression on his face. “Why are allowing those people to shop in your store?” Mrs. Ryder screeched.
“What people?” Mr. Bickle looked thoroughly confused.
“That bitch put a hex on my daughter!” Mrs. Ryder pointed at Kaley.
“Your daughter tried to hit me, and I ducked,” Kaley protested. “It’s not my fault she’s a clumsy cow and screwed up her knee.”
“Ladies, please.” Mr. Bickle looked like he was about to cry behind his wire rims.
“Of course, you get it straight from your mother!” Mrs. Ryder shook her fist at Kaley.
Shannon waddled from behind her register. “Do we need to call the police, or are you going to leave quietly?”
“You’re going let that little bitch stay?” Mrs. Ryder’s shock that someone took Kaley’s side was mirrored by a few other people. Everyone else simply appeared disgusted.
Shannon crossed her arms and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “That little girl ain’t the one causing a scene in public. You are. Now, once again, do I need to call the police?”
Realizing Shannon was the proverbial immoveable object, Mrs. Ryder turned to Mr. Bickle. “Are you going to let your employee insult me like that?”
The manager seemed to find his backbone. He straightened and glared at Mrs. Ryder. “The only one tossing out insults and creating a disturbance is you.”
“I’m going to report you to the owner,” Mrs. Ryder said.
Shannon pointed overhead. “Make sure you tell him about the security video capturing your performance when you call him. Oh, wait. Isn’t Ron Schneider your ex-husband?”
Mrs. Ryder blinked rapidly, shocked by the turnaround in circumstances. More than half of the crowd watching the drama tittered. Seeing no allies, she pivoted and marched out of the grocery store.
Shannon waddled back to her register. Kaley tried to breathe normally as she slipped Mom’s debit card into the reader. It took a couple of tries to get the PIN right. She could feel all the eyes on her. Finally, the device beeped, and she pulled out the card.
River had bagged the rest of the groceries and loaded them into the cart.
Shannon handed Kaley the receipt and gave her a reassuring smile. “You tell your mom and dad hello for me.”
“I will.” Kaley waved. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“You too, darling.”
Kaley and River headed for the exit. She sagged when she saw Mrs. Ryder still in the parking lot. Amelia’s mom was speaking with a man Kaley didn’t recognize.
He was a few inches taller than Mrs. Rider. He wore a leather jacket and jeans. His dark hair was just long enough not to be a buzz cut, but too short to be a crew cut. But the most prominent feature was a jagged scar down his cheek. The pair looked toward Kaley and River with ugly expressions on their faces.
Kaley and River quickly loaded their bags into the back of his blue PT Cruiser. Mrs. Ryder and the gentleman with her were still staring at them.
“Take a selfie,” River whispered.
“What?”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her so their backs were to Mrs. Ryder and the stranger. Her body immediately warmed at his touch, but she did as he asked and took a picture of the two of them.
“Can you do a close-up of the guy with Mrs. Ryder?” River whispered.
Kirsten swallowed and changed the settings. River nodded when he saw the resulting photo. “Send a copy to me.”
“Why?” “In case anything happens to your phone. Get in the car,” River whispered. “I’ll take care of the cart.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Kaley whispered back.
“Who? Me?” River shot her a devilish grin.
That expression sent a shiver through her. No wonder Olivia Burke looked at him like a prime Angus steak. Kaley could see why River’s mom had fallen under his dad’s spell. She nodded and climbed into his car.
It never failed to amaze her how clean the interior of his Cruiser was compared to the cars of all the other guys in school. And it always smelled like cedar and baklava inside though he didn’t have an air freshener anywhere. She had checked.
Fae magick jabbed Kaley’s psyche, and despite the need to raise a ward, she concentrated to keep her own power from reacting to the alien sensation. River opened the driver side door and slid into the Cruiser. A self-satisfied smirk tilted his mouth.
She crossed her arms. “What did you do?”
“Nothing that’ll harm anyone.”
“What. Did. You. Do.”
“You’re not the only one who has talent with air.” He grinned and backed out of their parking space.
As they drove past Mrs. Ryder, Kaley could see the tires on her Cadillac. Especially the flat front left tire.
While she didn’t blame River, that was going to come back to bite them in the ass. Especially with the Humanity Now protesters in town.
Monday, May 4, 2020
Magick and Murder - Chapter 3
The latest unedited chapter of Book 3 in the Millersburg Magick Mysteries series.
=======================
Kirsten scrambled to her feet. Mom and Jo stood side-by-side. Fireballs glowed in their hands. The crowd murmured, their hate and fear evident, but none of them dared to take a step forward.
“You dare to threaten us in front of officers of the law?” Simon sneered.
“You assaulted a citizen of Millersburg.” Police Chief Patricia Hall marched toward the standoff.
She wasn’t alone. Three more officers followed her. In the distance, sirens wailed. The chief must have called the sheriff’s department for backup. She stopped beside Kirsten.
“Are you all right, Ms. Wilson?” Chief Hall eyed her with a bit of worry.
Kirsten rubbed her diaphragm. “I had worse from a Tri-Valley player during last year’s tournament.” It hurt to take more than a shallow breath, but she was pretty sure nothing was broken.
“Would you like to press charges?”
“She’s a child,” one of the women in the crowd said.
“I’m not the one dumb enough to assault a child in front of five law officers,” Chief Hall replied mildly. “Or her mother.”
“She tried to kill us.” Simon jabbed his right index finger in the direction of Mom. Several of his cronies nodded and muttered in agreement.
“If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Mom said calmly.
“I want to file charges,” Jo spat. “Take a look at what these asshats did to my window. One of them threw a stone through my window. They’re damn lucky they didn’t hurt anyone.”
Chief Hall eyed the window and turned back to the crowd. “One of you want to take responsibility, or shall I charge everyone with disorderly conduct?”
“We have a right to defend ourselves,” Simon shouted.
“You don’t have a right to vandalize property and tie up downtown traffic,” Chief Hall said. Someone in the direction of South Mason Street honked their car horn as if to emphasize the police chief’s point.
“You can’t violate our first amendment rights!” Simon shouted. That seemed to be his method for dealing with things when he knew he was losing.
Kirsten counted to twenty before the chief smiled and sweetly said, “If that’s the way you want to play it, Mr. Simon.” She raised her voice. “Officers, every protest participant get a ticket if they don’t get back on the sidewalk in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…”
Most of the protestors scrambled back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, everyone except for Simon and a couple of others.
“Seven, six, five…” Chief Hall continued. Kirsten held her breath.
“Get on the sidewalk,” Simon said over his shoulder. Even as the last of his followers retreated, he stood toe-to-toe with Mom. “You are going to hell.”
Mom clenched her fists and extinguished the fireballs. “As a member of the press, I also have certain first amendment rights. You’d better remember that.”
Her statement broke Cory’s paralysis at the confrontation. He started snapping more pictures. Kirsten couldn’t blame the guy. The most excitement in town was usually high school games, car accidents, and the occasional fire.
“Two, one.” Chief Hall reached for her handcuffs on her utility belt. “Warren Simon, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent—”
The rest of what she said was swallowed by a chorus of boos and jeers from the protestors. Sheriffs’ deputies joined the police officers to form a wall between the crowd and the street. Eastbound traffic started to ease down Jackson Street while Chief Hall cuffed Simon.
Jo extinguish her fireballs as well, pivoted on her heel and marched back to her café. However, Mom and Simon continued to glare at each other.
Kirsten grabbed Mom’s arm and tugged on her. “Come on. Let’s get out of the street before Chief Hall has to arrest us, too.”
“Yes, run while you can, witch,” Simon spat.
Mom stepped closer to him. “I’d be very careful about who I threaten if I were you.”
“Rachel, step back,” Chief Hall barked.
“C’mon, Mom.” The last thing Kirsten wanted was to fight publicly with her own mother, but better that than getting into a brawl with the police or the protesters. No one would look good in that situation.
Mom relented, and the two of them retreated to the café. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder. Chief Hall escorted Simon to a squad car, but she stopped and exchanged words with Sheriff Birkheimer.
Inside the coffee shop, Jo took pictures of the damage to her store with her cell phone while Kirsten settled Mom in a chair on the other side of the dining area. Mary hurried back to the cooler and retrieved a bottle of water. She brought it over to Mom who accepted it with a tired smile.
“Thank you, Mary,” Mom murmured. All the tension flowed out of her, but she gripped Kirsten’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you kept your head out there, honey, but you shouldn’t have confronted those idiots.”
“Me confront them?” Kirsten squeezed Mom’s hand. “I seem to recall it was you and Jo tossing threats and fireballs. Besides, I was only trying to get Jo back inside before she did something stupid.”
“Me do something stupid?” Jo lowered her phone. “I didn’t start throwing rocks.”
The bell hanging on the door rang. Everyone jumped. Sheriff Birkheimer appeared poked his head around the edge. “Can I come in, ladies?”
“That depends,” Jo folded her arms over her chest. “What are you planning to do?”
“Now, Jo, you know I’m not your enemy.” He removed his hat and ran his hand over his short brown hair. “I’m here to make sure you guys are all right, and take your statements regarding the broken window.”
He pulled out his notebook and pen from his pocket. For the next half hour, he asked questions of the four people in the coffee shop when the rock crashed through the window. Another deputy came in and took pictures. Jo’s phone rang, and she disappeared back in her office to discuss the damages with her insurance company.
“Why are you really keeping us here, Jimmy?” Mom adopted the same cross-armed, wide feet posture Jo had when he came in. “You, of all people, know a reporter shouldn’t be part of the story, Rachel.” His tone was calm, but there was something in his eyes.
“Warren Simon wants you to file charges against Mom, doesn’t he?” Kirsten said.
“His lawyer has already called the mayor and the county commissioners.” Sheriff Birkheimer was obviously not happy about the situation from the way he fidgeted. “If we file charges against him, it’ll be all over the national news that we didn’t hold a witch to the same standards as a Normal.”
Mom jabbed her left index finger in Kirsten’s direction. “They threatened my daughter!”
“But they didn’t throw a fireball at her.” The sheriff played with the brim of his hat.
“No, they threw a stone through my aunt’s shop window!” The unfairness of the entire situation galled Kirsten, even though she knew how this would end.
“Did any of you get pictures or video of the jerk who threw it?” he asked.
Kirsten sagged. Mom, Mary, and Rose all shook their heads.
“They’ve got video of Mom throwing the fireball, don’t they?” Kirsten hugged herself.
“Yeah.” Sheriff Birkheimer grimaced. “Damn thing’s already been uploaded to the Humanity Now website and getting hits. It doesn’t make you look good, Rachel.”
Mom muttered a two-word phrase Kirsten had never heard her say, but it definitely applied to the protesters. Mary covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.
“Tell Jo I’ll swing by with the incident when I get my coffee in the morning.” The sheriff replaced his hat and nodded to everyone. He and the deputy with the camera left.
“What do we do about the window?” Mary asked.
“We clean up the glass and see if we can get a delivery from the lumberyard in the next hour,” Kirsten said. She head for the back room of the store to fetch the broom, the dustpan, and the huge heavy-duty rubber trash can.
Simon had definitely been trying to goad Jo into doing something stupid. Unfortunately, Mom delivered what the Humanity Now idiots wanted. Now, they knew why, but what on earth did they do to stop the organization form using that blasted video against all supernaturals?
=======================
Kirsten scrambled to her feet. Mom and Jo stood side-by-side. Fireballs glowed in their hands. The crowd murmured, their hate and fear evident, but none of them dared to take a step forward.
“You dare to threaten us in front of officers of the law?” Simon sneered.
“You assaulted a citizen of Millersburg.” Police Chief Patricia Hall marched toward the standoff.
She wasn’t alone. Three more officers followed her. In the distance, sirens wailed. The chief must have called the sheriff’s department for backup. She stopped beside Kirsten.
“Are you all right, Ms. Wilson?” Chief Hall eyed her with a bit of worry.
Kirsten rubbed her diaphragm. “I had worse from a Tri-Valley player during last year’s tournament.” It hurt to take more than a shallow breath, but she was pretty sure nothing was broken.
“Would you like to press charges?”
“She’s a child,” one of the women in the crowd said.
“I’m not the one dumb enough to assault a child in front of five law officers,” Chief Hall replied mildly. “Or her mother.”
“She tried to kill us.” Simon jabbed his right index finger in the direction of Mom. Several of his cronies nodded and muttered in agreement.
“If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Mom said calmly.
“I want to file charges,” Jo spat. “Take a look at what these asshats did to my window. One of them threw a stone through my window. They’re damn lucky they didn’t hurt anyone.”
Chief Hall eyed the window and turned back to the crowd. “One of you want to take responsibility, or shall I charge everyone with disorderly conduct?”
“We have a right to defend ourselves,” Simon shouted.
“You don’t have a right to vandalize property and tie up downtown traffic,” Chief Hall said. Someone in the direction of South Mason Street honked their car horn as if to emphasize the police chief’s point.
“You can’t violate our first amendment rights!” Simon shouted. That seemed to be his method for dealing with things when he knew he was losing.
Kirsten counted to twenty before the chief smiled and sweetly said, “If that’s the way you want to play it, Mr. Simon.” She raised her voice. “Officers, every protest participant get a ticket if they don’t get back on the sidewalk in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight…”
Most of the protestors scrambled back to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse, everyone except for Simon and a couple of others.
“Seven, six, five…” Chief Hall continued. Kirsten held her breath.
“Get on the sidewalk,” Simon said over his shoulder. Even as the last of his followers retreated, he stood toe-to-toe with Mom. “You are going to hell.”
Mom clenched her fists and extinguished the fireballs. “As a member of the press, I also have certain first amendment rights. You’d better remember that.”
Her statement broke Cory’s paralysis at the confrontation. He started snapping more pictures. Kirsten couldn’t blame the guy. The most excitement in town was usually high school games, car accidents, and the occasional fire.
“Two, one.” Chief Hall reached for her handcuffs on her utility belt. “Warren Simon, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent—”
The rest of what she said was swallowed by a chorus of boos and jeers from the protestors. Sheriffs’ deputies joined the police officers to form a wall between the crowd and the street. Eastbound traffic started to ease down Jackson Street while Chief Hall cuffed Simon.
Jo extinguish her fireballs as well, pivoted on her heel and marched back to her café. However, Mom and Simon continued to glare at each other.
Kirsten grabbed Mom’s arm and tugged on her. “Come on. Let’s get out of the street before Chief Hall has to arrest us, too.”
“Yes, run while you can, witch,” Simon spat.
Mom stepped closer to him. “I’d be very careful about who I threaten if I were you.”
“Rachel, step back,” Chief Hall barked.
“C’mon, Mom.” The last thing Kirsten wanted was to fight publicly with her own mother, but better that than getting into a brawl with the police or the protesters. No one would look good in that situation.
Mom relented, and the two of them retreated to the café. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder. Chief Hall escorted Simon to a squad car, but she stopped and exchanged words with Sheriff Birkheimer.
Inside the coffee shop, Jo took pictures of the damage to her store with her cell phone while Kirsten settled Mom in a chair on the other side of the dining area. Mary hurried back to the cooler and retrieved a bottle of water. She brought it over to Mom who accepted it with a tired smile.
“Thank you, Mary,” Mom murmured. All the tension flowed out of her, but she gripped Kirsten’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you kept your head out there, honey, but you shouldn’t have confronted those idiots.”
“Me confront them?” Kirsten squeezed Mom’s hand. “I seem to recall it was you and Jo tossing threats and fireballs. Besides, I was only trying to get Jo back inside before she did something stupid.”
“Me do something stupid?” Jo lowered her phone. “I didn’t start throwing rocks.”
The bell hanging on the door rang. Everyone jumped. Sheriff Birkheimer appeared poked his head around the edge. “Can I come in, ladies?”
“That depends,” Jo folded her arms over her chest. “What are you planning to do?”
“Now, Jo, you know I’m not your enemy.” He removed his hat and ran his hand over his short brown hair. “I’m here to make sure you guys are all right, and take your statements regarding the broken window.”
He pulled out his notebook and pen from his pocket. For the next half hour, he asked questions of the four people in the coffee shop when the rock crashed through the window. Another deputy came in and took pictures. Jo’s phone rang, and she disappeared back in her office to discuss the damages with her insurance company.
“Why are you really keeping us here, Jimmy?” Mom adopted the same cross-armed, wide feet posture Jo had when he came in. “You, of all people, know a reporter shouldn’t be part of the story, Rachel.” His tone was calm, but there was something in his eyes.
“Warren Simon wants you to file charges against Mom, doesn’t he?” Kirsten said.
“His lawyer has already called the mayor and the county commissioners.” Sheriff Birkheimer was obviously not happy about the situation from the way he fidgeted. “If we file charges against him, it’ll be all over the national news that we didn’t hold a witch to the same standards as a Normal.”
Mom jabbed her left index finger in Kirsten’s direction. “They threatened my daughter!”
“But they didn’t throw a fireball at her.” The sheriff played with the brim of his hat.
“No, they threw a stone through my aunt’s shop window!” The unfairness of the entire situation galled Kirsten, even though she knew how this would end.
“Did any of you get pictures or video of the jerk who threw it?” he asked.
Kirsten sagged. Mom, Mary, and Rose all shook their heads.
“They’ve got video of Mom throwing the fireball, don’t they?” Kirsten hugged herself.
“Yeah.” Sheriff Birkheimer grimaced. “Damn thing’s already been uploaded to the Humanity Now website and getting hits. It doesn’t make you look good, Rachel.”
Mom muttered a two-word phrase Kirsten had never heard her say, but it definitely applied to the protesters. Mary covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.
“Tell Jo I’ll swing by with the incident when I get my coffee in the morning.” The sheriff replaced his hat and nodded to everyone. He and the deputy with the camera left.
“What do we do about the window?” Mary asked.
“We clean up the glass and see if we can get a delivery from the lumberyard in the next hour,” Kirsten said. She head for the back room of the store to fetch the broom, the dustpan, and the huge heavy-duty rubber trash can.
Simon had definitely been trying to goad Jo into doing something stupid. Unfortunately, Mom delivered what the Humanity Now idiots wanted. Now, they knew why, but what on earth did they do to stop the organization form using that blasted video against all supernaturals?
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