Missing powers, p.3
Missing Powers, page 3
“It would almost be worth it to take Corvin down to the ocean just to make them all shut up,” she told Starlight, who was gazing up at her attentively. “That would solve two problems at once.”
She took another bite of the sandwich, but the bread was balling up in her mouth and getting stuck in her teeth, annoying her almost as much as the voices. She pulled the two halves of the sandwich apart and went straight for the tuna and mayonnaise filling, scooping it into her mouth and licking it off of the slices of bread. It occurred to her as she messily chowed down that Sarah could walk into the cottage at any moment and would probably be alarmed if she saw the state Reg was in. She licked the last few bits of fish off of the bread and threw them into the garbage.
“That’s disgusting,” she criticized herself. She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. “What are you, an animal?”
Starlight, wiping his face with his paw as he groomed himself, paused to glare at her.
“Okay. Sorry, sorry. I know a cat would never behave like that. You’re very clean and civilized. I’m the one who is disgusting.”
Starlight went back to washing. He radiated waves of concern over her. She hadn’t realized that her behavior was unusual enough for him to notice it. Cats tended not to take too much notice of human problems.
Or maybe it wasn’t her behavior that had him worried, but her agitation. She had been emotional from the time she had walked in the door.
“I’m just tired. Hard session with Davyn.”
Starlight murmured a sound and wrapped himself around her legs, rubbing against her.
“It’s Corvin. He’s running for leadership of his coven. Against Davyn. And I think that’s a really bad idea. I can’t understand why they would let him do it. He’ll have too much influence over the other warlocks. I don’t think we want a dozen—or however many of them there are—warlocks running around Black Sands under Corvin’s power.”
Starlight continued to rub against her. Reg bent over and picked him up. She scratched his ears and he started to purr.
“Forget Corvin,” Reg told herself. “It’s got nothing to do with me.”
The phone started to ring.
CHAPTER FIVE
Reg knew even without looking at the phone who it would be.
She should have known better than to be ranting about him. Of course with their psychic bond, he would know that something was going on and would be drawn to talk to her. She looked at the phone for a minute, deciding whether to answer it. If she didn’t answer, would he just leave her alone? Or would he be persistent, calling her back and even trying to come to the house or bothering Sarah to check on Reg?
She tapped the screen and reluctantly brought it up to her ear. “Corvin.”
“Reg.”
Not the usual purr of “Regina” that he used when he was trying to charm her. But he didn’t sound angry, either. He’d been quite irritable lately, which Reg thought was probably related to his effort to be reinstated to the coven. Maybe now that he had been reinstated, he would be happier.
He had certainly been jubilant when he’d received the news. Reg had felt it, even though they had been apart and not communicating with each other. His joy at being reinstated had seemed over-the-top. As a powerful warlock, he shouldn’t really care so much about the companionship and approval of the coven. Should he?
Reg waited for a few long seconds, waiting for him to speak, but he didn’t.
“You called me,” she reminded him. “What did you want?”
“Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice again.”
“Okay, and now you have. I’ve got appointments to prepare for tonight, so if that is all…”
“Wait.”
Reg didn’t actually need to prepare anything for her appointments. She would give them each a reading when they came, but she didn’t research clients ahead of time or do anything to predispose herself to a specific outcome. If she really was a medium—and she no longer seemed to be able to deny it—then she was only the conduit through which messages passed. There was no need to spend time preparing a message that would impress her client.
“What?”
Again, there was a pause. Corvin didn’t usually have any problem starting a conversation or stating what he wanted. Reg wasn’t sure why he was being so slow to express himself.
“Where were you today?”
“I was out. Had some errands to do.”
“Errands where? In town? Did you go into the city?”
“No. Why do you care? It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“I think you know something.”
Reg’s arms broke out into goosebumps. “Sure, I know lots of things,” she agreed casually.
“What do you know about… me?”
“I know lots of things about you.” More than she liked to, actually. Was he going to tell her something else? Something she didn’t even want to know?
“Did you hear about my reinstatement to the coven?”
“Oh, yeah. Might have heard something about that.”
He made a growling noise that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “Don’t play games with me, Reg!”
“Fine! Yes, I heard about you being reinstated. Good for you. You must be pleased.”
“I am,” Corvin agreed and, for a moment sounded like his old self, “very pleased.” Reg recognized that little self-satisfied purr in his words. Yes, Corvin was always doing whatever he could to boost himself a little higher in everyone else’s view. Maybe being part of the coven meant more to him than she had thought.
“Well, congratulations.”
“I am also running for leadership of the coven. Davyn is stepping down.”
Reg caught herself before correcting him. She swallowed and considered her words before speaking. She didn’t want to give away that she had already known about his bid to lead the group.
“Wow, that will be something new, won’t it? Or have you been the coven leader before?”
“You already knew.” His voice was disappointed. “How did you know?”
“Heard some gossip while I was out running errands. That’s great. I’m sure you’ll be great about serving them.”
Maybe that was her own little dig. Reminding him that he was supposed to be a spiritual leader and help and serve others, rather than becoming the leader for his own advancement.
“It is a great opportunity. This coven has been around for hundreds of years. It was one of the first covens to form in North America. We have a very long history of preeminent leaders.”
“I didn’t know that.” Was it true, or was he just puffing himself up? There must be hundreds of covens across North America now. How would anyone ever prove that they had been one of the first? Maybe they had some history books. Maybe photographs of some of those early warlocks. Maybe Corvin had been a young man then, excited to join the coven because it was something new. Something that few people had the opportunity to do.
And now he had another opportunity—the opportunity to become the leader of one of the first covens in North America.
“For years, they have been able to keep me out of the leadership of the coven, but times are changing. Other covens have changed their rules to allow my kind to lead. We are natural-born leaders. That’s why they have kept us out to begin with. They are afraid we will take over and not give anyone else the opportunity.”
Or maybe they were afraid of what he could do and letting someone like that continue to grow in his powers over years, maybe even decades or centuries. Reg was pretty sure that the rules hadn’t simply been the result of prejudice, but an effort to prevent people like Corvin from taking advantage of those who didn’t have the strength to fight him.
Reg didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. She had already congratulated him. What more did he want?
“Times are changing,” Corvin repeated.
“Is that why you called me? To tell me that you were going to be running for leadership of the coven?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Reg felt unsettled. He wasn’t close to her, they were just talking on the phone, but she could feel his anger and dissatisfaction building. He had been happy when he called. She didn’t know what had changed.
“Who have you been talking to?” Corvin demanded.
“I talk to a lot of people.”
Too late, she realized the mistake she had made. He had told her that Davyn was stepping down so that Corvin could take over as the coven leader. But she had referred to his running for leadership, as Davyn had told her. She knew that it wasn’t a “given.” Corvin wasn’t just going to walk into the position.
“You’ve been talking about me. Or reading me. You know that isn’t allowed.”
As if he were careful to follow all of the rules himself. Reg had seen him slip too many times to believe that was true. Even now, he was probing at the edges of her consciousness, looking for the answers to his questions, not satisfied with her responses.
“I’m glad that you’re going to be able to join your coven again,” Reg said. “You’ll be happier. Not so lonely.”
“I’m not lonely,” he growled, as if she had insulted him. “It will give me the chance to expand in areas I haven’t been allowed to before. I have a talent for leadership, but it has always been denied me before.”
How could he know that he would be a good leader if he had never led? A lot of people thought that they could do things better than the political or corporate leaders around them. But it wasn’t actually true. They were just good armchair quarterbacks.
She supposed it was different for Corvin. He could look to history. Some of his earlier ancestors must have had the opportunity to lead at some time. That was how kingdoms were built. Warlocks like he was had attained great wealth and power. There were examples throughout history of fabulously powerful men.
“Why don’t you have your own coven?” Reg asked. “For warlocks like you.”
“I have a coven.”
“No, I mean… other warlocks who have your… abilities? If other covens wouldn’t let you have any positions of authority, why didn’t you form your own coven?”
“My kind have been dying out for many years. They have been targeted by both practitioners and non-practitioners and executed. Burned at the stake. Stakes driven through their hearts. All manner of cruel deaths.”
It was true of many of the practitioners of magic, not just those like Corvin. But to be hunted by their own kind was particularly troubling. It was one thing for non-magicals who didn’t understand what they were dealing with to lash out and try to destroy it. But for one warlock to kill another because he had a certain power or gift… that seemed unfair. Reg feared Corvin’s ability to take her powers away, but she knew it wasn’t his fault that he had been born that way. No more than it was Reg’s fault for being able to hear the voices of the dead or that her mother was a siren. Those were things beyond her control. How could anyone kill another for his inborn nature?
“Imagine that,” Corvin said, his voice husky in her ear. “Imagine what it would take to do that to another witch.”
“I’m not—”
“Call yourself ‘just a psychic’ if you want. You know that your powers go well beyond what most of the witches in Black Sands can do. Well beyond most of the witches I have ever met.” The phone picked up the sound of his breathing. “Why do you think you are such a temptation to me?”
“Corvin.” Reg shuddered. It was like he was right in the room with her, even though she knew he was not. “Too much. Back off.”
He continued to breathe but didn’t say anything.
“I need to go,” Reg said uncomfortably. “Um… I’m sure we’ll talk again. Good luck with the coven.”
“Thank you.”
Reg hesitated for a moment, then touched the red hang-up button on her screen. She let out her breath, her heart beating quickly. She didn’t know what had gotten into Corvin lately. He didn’t seem like his old charming self, but even this irritable, short-tempered Corvin left her breathless and struggling to remember why she had to turn him down.
She closed her eyes, breathing slowly and waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal. The siren song started again and, below the wailing, she could hear them whispering and giggling about Corvin. When they said teasingly that he looked tasty, Reg didn’t think they were talking about the attributes that would land Corvin on a racy calendar raising funds for orphaned witch and warlock children. They meant it quite literally. Reg had—perhaps unwisely—claimed Corvin as her own to keep Norma Jean from seducing him and dragging him off into the ocean. The sirens were still waiting for Reg to seal the deal.
Reg wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and turned to the fridge to find some more fish.
CHAPTER SIX
Reg had a restless night. First, she had her psychic consultations in the evening, then a seance at midnight, and then, sometime after three, she tried to get to sleep, but found herself still too wide awake and anxious. It was probably all the talk about Corvin and his reintroduction to his coven. And that really didn’t affect Reg, so she wasn’t sure why she let it bother her. Corvin would be busy with the coven; that was a good thing.
She awoke to Starlight sitting on the bed next to her, staring intensely into her face. Reg startled and gave a little yelp of surprise.
“Gee, that’s not creepy at all! What do you think you’re doing?”
Starlight didn’t move, staring at her unblinkingly.
“I’m getting up. But you could let me sleep a little longer. You know how late I was up last night.”
She rolled over, turning her back to him. But she could tell that he wasn’t moving. He was still just sitting there staring at her.
“Go away. Go look out the window. See if there are any birds.”
No response. Reg took a tentative look behind her, wondering if he had just crept quietly away without her realizing it and she was foolishly talking to herself.
But no, he was still there, sitting and staring at her.
“Come on. Just a little longer.”
Reg closed her eyes. She hoped that she would be able to get back to sleep, but she knew better. She might just doze a little, but then she would be more irritable and short-tempered because of it. Something like Corvin had been lately. Was it possible that he wasn’t sleeping? Maybe the tribunal taking their time to consider his application for reinstatement to the coven had kept him from being able to get a good sleep. And now, he had to plan his campaign to take over leadership of the coven from Davyn. Was Davyn the only opposition, or was someone else in the coven also running against them? Reg wasn’t sure who else was in the coven, but she probably knew a few of them. She’d just never asked before who else was part of their circle. She didn’t know if it was considered impolite to ask that kind of thing.
Reg opened her eyes and gave a louder shout than when Starlight had startled her. Right in front of her was a man’s face, with a thin, drooping mustache and a little red beret. His eyes popped at her response and he fell over backward into the wall. Reg was instantly up on her hands and knees and looked over the side of the bed at him.
“Uncle Harrison! What are you doing here?”
Harrison struggled to unfold himself from the space between the bed and the wall and to get to his feet. He was wearing what Reg thought was a silk pajama top, embroidered with dragons, and form-fitting black yoga pants that ended just below his knees, leaving his long shins and feet bare except for a pair of Birkenstocks.
“I am… watching.”
“I told you before not to watch me sleep! You’re not supposed to come into my bedroom. You’re supposed to knock on my door and wait until I let you in. You can’t keep materializing in my house.”
He gave her a doubtful look. “Yes, I can.”
Reg rolled her eyes. “Well, you’re not supposed to. You’re supposed to be polite and ask to come in.”
He shrugged, a gesture that indicated he had no idea why she would ask him to do such a bizarre thing.
Reg tugged at the t-shirt that she wore as a pajama top to ensure it was not skewed to show off anything it shouldn’t. She rubbed the center of her forehead. The third eye position, like where Starlight’s star marking was. She was still tired and was already developing a headache.
“I need coffee,” she told him, and slipped off of the edge of the bed.
“As do I,” Harrison agreed, and followed her out to the kitchen. Starlight purred loudly, rubbing around Harrison’s legs and giving excited little trills.
Reg made sure there was a carafe under the coffee machine drip spout and pressed the button to start it brewing.
“You stole my coffee pot before,” she accused Harrison. “I have no idea why. I had to go buy a new one.”
“I do not steal.” Harrison put his fingertips on his chest as if shocked that she would make such an accusation.
“You do too. It was right in the middle of brewing, and when you disappeared, the coffee pot did too. And got coffee all over the counter and floor.”
Harrison chuckled in amusement over this suggestion. “Coffee on the floor. Ha!”
“It wasn’t funny!”
Though, thinking about it now, it was sort of funny. Reg kept a stern expression. “Don’t take anything of mine without asking.”
He stroked his mustache. “Reg, may I have—”
“Before. You ask before you take something.”
“I am!” Harrison insisted.
“Okay, may you have what?”
“The mealtime, is it… tea?”
“Not unless you want to actually drink tea. Breakfast?”
He nodded sagely. “I must break the fast.”
She was getting used to the fact that he liked to eat with her when he took on a mortal form. It was, apparently, one of the few benefits of taking on a physical body.
