Maggie on the Bounty (2 page)

No bells and whistles went off in
my head.  My tracker senses didn't scream, "MAGIC!" at me.  It seemed
like just a normal old painting.  Mom swore this place was about as psychically
active as a petting zoo, but there were plenty of other types of ghoulies that
might have taken up residence.

"I'm here with my family for
brunch when I could be at home in bed," I warned.  "I haven't had any
coffee yet and I'm armed.  If you mess with me today, I swear to God I'll make
sure you're hung in a basement."

The painting definitely didn't move.

I gave her one last
don't-make-me-put-you-in-time-out-young-lady glance before going on to the
restroom.

Restoration dollars only go so far,
and this powder room sported a look that could only be described as high school
teacher's lounge chic.  Lots of cheap, gold-flecked Formica and industrial naugahyde
chairs.  I stood looking in the chipped mirror, my fingers on the locks of my
neck guard, thinking about that stupid painting and trying to ignore my
gut-instinct not to take the thing off.  I really didn't know if this was such
a good idea anymore.  If I was going without a neck guard, I should at least
have something sharper than a grapefruit spoon.  But my brain went through the
laundry list:  The painting really hadn't moved.  I was brunching with a priest
on a Sunday, so that should count for something.  And if I showed up at the
table looking like things were going to go down at 10 a.m., it would put a
damper on my sister's plans.  That's what settled it.  I wasn't going to give
her ammunition for another
do-over.

I spun the locks on the neck guard
and let it fall into my hands.  I took a minute to massage the red marks on my
neck where it had pressed too long against my skin.

If I got killed at brunch at least
I would die with waffles in my belly, I told myself as I walked back out toward
the lobby.  There are worse ways to go, and only one or two better.  After all,
you only live once.

"Maggie!  Black to brunch? 
You look like something straight out of the Dark Dimension," scolded a
familiar voice.

Although sometimes once is enough.

"Hey, Mom!"

She came over and squeezed me
tight.  She was wearing her good pink muumuu with the yellow hibiscus flowers.

"Good to see you, too," I
said, kissing her on the cheek.

"A little color wouldn't make
you look so pale and washed out."

I sighed.  "As we've talked
about, it's hard to hide in shadows from the vampires when you are wearing fuchsia." 
I put the neck guard in my purse next to where my stake and handgun should have
been.  Stupid Killian.

"Bah.  Vampires.  It's the
middle of the morning, Maggie," Mom proclaimed.

"A MacKay is always
prepared," I reminded her.

She shook her head as if she
couldn't believe she had raised a daughter who would place survival over
fashion.

She fluffed her orange curls,
recently having traded in her triangle haircut for something more helmet like. 
Her transformation into Mrs. Roper was almost complete.  Everyone has to have
heroes, I guess.

"Hey, Mom?" I asked.

"Hmmm?" she replied as
she pulled out her coral lipstick.

"Have you been feeling
anything funny since you got on the ship?"

She shook her head.  "No.  Not
a thing.  Why?  Did you feel something funny?"  She turned to me, her eyes
suddenly lit up. "Oh do tell!  I keep hoping that someday your gift will
wake up.  Did it wake up?  You can tell me!"

"Right."  I cleared my
throat, "So, I was walking past a painting in the hallway and it looked
like it smiled at me."

"What?" Mom asked,
suddenly looking concerned.  "Why don't you show it to me?"

We walked out into the hallway and I
stopped.  The painting wasn't there.  I mean, the whole thing was gone.  Not a
frame.  Not a hook.  Not a nail.  Nothing.  In fact, the lovely wall it had
been hanging on was missing, too, and in its place was an accordion divider.

"It was right here," I
swore.  I pulled back the divider and there was no wall behind it, just the
ballroom set up for brunch and all of its normal, mortal eaters.

Mom felt my forehead.  "You
don't seem to be running a fever."

I brushed off her hand.  "I'm
fine.  There was a painting here.  And it is gone and so is the wall."

She looked around.  "Are you
sure this is where you saw it?"

"I am pretty sure."  I
stared at the spot I was sure it was at.  "Maybe I got turned
around."

"Do you feel anything strange
about this place?  Any fluctuations?  Any indications someone is tampering with
the border?"

I shook my head again.  "No. 
Nothing.  It feels so completely normal, I'd think that this place had never
even heard of The Other Side.  You?"

She patted my shoulder.  "It
will be okay.  You've been under so much stress lately..."

"Mo-o-om..."

"Hunting vampires is hard! 
You freed all the citizens of that Ghost Town, and you haven't stopped since! 
You haven't had a break in a week..."

"It's not that big of a
deal."

She kissed my temple.  "It is
to me.  Now, let's go see what sort of omelets they serve before those boys go
and eat everything."

She linked her arm in mine and
walked me to the ballroom.

Dad was in the lobby waiting for us,
talking up a storm with my twin, Mindy, and her hubby, Austin.  Killian and
Father Killarney had already found their way over to the merry crew.  It was
like the setup for a "priest, an elf, and a world walker went into a
bar" joke. 

"You mob got your buffet pants
on?" I asked, showing them the elastic waistband on my skirt.

I was greeted with cheers and we
headed on in.  A row of waiters in white dinner jackets stood at the ready,
lined up smartly next to the check-in desk to walk us to our seats. 

"Very fancy," I whispered
to Mindy.

"Try not to spill all over
yourself," she muttered back.

Our host walked us to our table.  It
was dressed up in a linen tablecloth and had a good view of the ice
sculptures.  The Grand Ballroom, itself, was an art deco wonderland.  The walls
were inlaid wood and the two-story ceiling was held up with veneer columns. 
Murals were everywhere you looked.  Lots of faux Asian flair: herons and
whooping cranes and orchids.  On one side of the room was a great big painting
of New York to Paris, with a brass track connecting the two and a little boat
riding the track.  I pointed it out to Killian.  "So when this boat used
to travel back and forth, they would position the boat up there so the
passengers could see how far along they were on their trip."

Killian nodded appreciatively.  "Quite
ingenious for such a primitive culture."

"We can't all be elves."

"Pity."

"We did, however, invent the Belgian
waffle, which I've never heard served of in your forest."

"Bah!  Waffles!  Pipistrelle
introduced me to an item called 'cheesecake.'  Do you think they have such a
construct here?"

I patted Killian on the shoulder. 
"I like the way you think, elf."

Mindy shook her head. 
"Dessert?"

"With the way my life tends to
go, I'm just hedging my bets.  It sure would suck if the last meal in my life
was salad."

"Touché.  Dessert it is!"

The center of the room featured a
parquet floor and more food stations than any single nation had an excuse to
own—omelets to order, seafood, make your own crepes, Chinese food, prime rib,
Build-a-Breakfast Burritos—you name it, they had it.  The waitstaff kept our
glasses filled with coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice.  They offered
champagne and stopped by frequently enough, I didn't even have to ask them to
leave the bottle.  All in all, even grumpy-pants me had to admit it was a pretty
fantastic brunch.

"So you have visited this
vessel before?" Killian asked.

My mom nodded.  "Oh, I used to
come here quite often, but I don't think William ever has."

Dad took a bite of his seafood
salad and shook his head, "Nope, this is my first trip."

"We discovered
this place back when he was caught in the boundary," Mom explained.

"If I had known, I would have
worked harder to get out," Dad said, swallowing and then diving into his
pile of peel-and-eat shrimp.

Father Killarney pushed himself
back from the table and folded his hands upon his belly.  He looked up at the
ceiling and got a dreamy look in his eye.  I braced myself.  The man was about
to wax on about something.  I motioned to the waiter to bring me more booze.

"Oh, the Empress Adelaide used
to shuttle movie stars across the Atlantic, pretty as you please, but during
the war, they painted her the color of the fog and filled her with soldiers. 
Packed them in like sardines.  And wouldn't you know, though she was chased by
every U-Boat in the sea, this beautiful lady stayed just out of their grasp. 
There was quite a bounty on her head back in the day.  They used to call her
the Ghost Spirit."

I looked around the grand dining
room. "Ghost Spirit, huh?"

"Said that it was like she
vanished out there and nothin' but the sea would be left behind."

Mindy wiped a bit of chocolate from
her lip. "I hear they have a ghost tour...  We should go!"  She waved
her fingers like it was all spooky.

Mom threw down her napkin in
disgust. "Well."

I gave her a sideways look.
"Really?"

"I don't like people who use
the dead as a money-making device."

I thought back to her psychic eye
shop over on The Other Side.  "You
use the dead as a money-making device."

"My shop is not some haunted
house."

"It actually is, literally, a
haunted house..." I pointed out.

"That is beside the point.  I
speak with the real, actual dead and connect them with their family members or
help them to cross to the world beyond.  This is pure exploitation and makes a
mockery of my profession and gifts."

"Come now, dear," my dad
tried to soothe, "it is just a bit of fun."

"Just you wait until they
start building a bunch of fun houses where people can create fake portals in
the wall.  Hand them a sledgehammer and some dry wall and tell them they are
jumping dimensions!"

"That actually sounds like a
really good time," Mindy said.  It actually did.  You can never go wrong
with a little recreational demolition.

Mom looked like she was about to
get on a rant about the proper and improper use of ghosts as party tricks when
Austin, God bless him, took his glass and tapped it with his knife.  We all
looked over at him.

"There is a reason we hauled
you all out here," he said.

Mindy reached over and grabbed
Austin's hand. "There is..."

"You're pregnant!"
laughed Mom.

I dropped my fork loudly on the
table.  "What?"

"MOM!  I wanted to tell
everyone!"

"Oh, Mindy!  It is so
wonderful!" Mom said, running over to kiss her all over her cheeks.  Dad
reached over to shake Austin's hand.

"I am so sorry for dropping
you through the roof of Ghost Town," I apologized.

Mindy waved it off.  "Killian
broke my fall."

Austin pointed his butter knife at
me. "But no more getting my wife into these sorts of situations again. 
She's staking for two right now."

"Maggie it will be your turn
next," Mom said with a wink.

Killian gave me a meaningful look
and I kicked him under the table.

"It would be so nice if
Mindy's baby had someone to play with," she continued.

"The only thing I want in my
belly," I informed her, "is more dessert."  I pointed at Mindy's
plate.  "Pass me your brownie."

"Pipistrelle stays with
me," my sister warned.

"Ha ha.  Your dessert plate. 
Fork it over.  There are starving children in the world and I need to rub it in
their faces I have caramel and they don't."

Killian shook his head.  "Always
a picture of tact and decorum."

"It is a wonder I don't work
for the UN.  Now, pass it over."

As Mom and Dad talked to Mindy and
Austin about all of the ins and outs of organizing a cross-dimensional daycare
and which car seat is best when running your car off of Mulholland, I leaned
over to Father Killarney and whispered, "You haven't come across anything
in your studies about... baby issues... when a mom is possessed by evil genie
Dark Side magic, right?"

Killian took a meaningful swig from
his mimosa.

"What are you talking about,
Maggie-girl?" the priest asked.

"Just a little something that
happened while we were in Ghost Town."

Father
Killarney shook his head.  "I'll see what I can find out and let you know."

"Guess
we'll just see what we're in for a bit down the road," I replied.

"Maybe
there's a little something I can do in the interim."  Father Killarney
wiped his mouth with his napkin.  "Mindy!  An Irish blessing on that
beautiful belly of yours!  Get over here!"

Mindy
walked over and Father Killarney hovered his hands over
her abdomen.  "A blessing on this wee babe.  In
the Lord's name I cast out all demons and dark shadows and give this child over
to the light."  He made the sign of the cross over his water goblet and
then dipped his fingers in and flung the water droplets on Mindy.

Mindy gave
him a look. "That was a funny blessing, Father Killarney."

He stood
and gave her a kiss on the forehead.  "You have a funny
family."

Mindy's
hand went to her womb, suddenly distracted.  "Oh!  It moved!" 

Mom and
Dad were instantly cooing and the blessing took a backseat
to this new development.  I tried to tell myself the timing had nothing to do
with Father Killarney's words.

Since he was already
standing, Father Killarney dried his hands and announced. 
"Well, 'tis a shame, but this couple isn't going
to marry itself and I'm afraid my duties call."  He gave handshakes
and cheek smooches all around.  "It was a pleasure! 
Until next time.  And Mindy, know that the moment that baby comes out, I'll be
waiting with a bowl of water to get it good and baptized for you.  No group
baptisms for the MacKay girls!"