War-N-Wit, Inc. – Resurrection (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

“G, we’re out of time! I can’t wait for confirmation, didn’t
you hear me? That bastard’s got
my wife
!
Chloroform, I can still taste it. Even second-hand it knocked me out long
enough for him to be completely gone! And then I was still too damn dizzy to
stand up straight for at least ten minutes! Lost enough time.”

“You won’t do her any good dead. Which you might be if you
go charging in when you don’t know what you’re charging into!”

“I’m better than that, G!”

“You’d damn well better be.”

He’d reached the steps leading to

“The Tear.
Anything
on what it does that makes it worth all this to the fake Hedgepath? He murdered
that girl last night, G. Our waitress. For nothing but the use of her image and
the chance to tail us for an hour. Surely the Guardians have some idea of
anybody powerful enough and dark enough to do that!”

He’d reached the parking deck at our hotel now, punching the
up button at the outside elevator.

“About the Tear itself, all we’ve found are rumors over the
centuries that the Tear intensifies whatever other powers the Seer has.”

“And that’s it? What the hell good does that do anybody but
the Seer? Unless they can somehow use the Seer’s powers.”

“Exactly. Hit me over the head with a two by four, I’ll
finally figure it out. This Ollie impersonator. He has to be able to use
another’s powers. Otherwise, how would he have harvested the Seer’s ability in
the first place? So whoever this dude is, he’s a—”

“Psychic vampire, a bottom-feeder. You got a possible name?
‘Cause if you don’t have anybody like that blipping the radar screen, G, the
Guardians are falling down on the job.”

 
“Give the man a
cigar. Now. As to who he is—we know he’s got some sort of vampiric power
whether or not he actually guzzles anybody’s blood which wouldn’t surprise me.
But he at least guzzles power. Since whatever he’s doing revolves around
Resurrection, he actually is—was, excuse me—able to use the Tear to confirm the
past lives things. So he’s got something else that makes that profitable to
him. Especially when combined with the possibility that the Tear intensifies
whatever other powers the Seer has. So, based on all the foregoing—”

“G. Who the hell is he?”

“His name is Legion.”

“Very funny. What’s his name?”

“Legion. That’s the name he’s using.”

“Damn. He thinks he’s that good?”

“Or that bad. All we got right now, we’re still working on
the original name. Kind of in a bind here, if we knew the real name, it’d help
discover what other power he has that he needs to intensify. And if we knew his
other powers, it’d probably be a lot easier to come up with his real name.
Whatever it is, it’s something that really helps if you’re running a scam. Old
Ollie was a garden variety medium with a touch of pre-cog. Both of which could
be useful scams to run. What powers does Ariel actually have?”

The elevator arrived and Chad charged through before the
doors completely opened, stabbing the button for the third level viciously.

 
“I’m not altogether
sure yet and neither is she. She didn’t even know she was a witch until last
Christmas, she just always explained everything away as being a logical,
educated guess.”

“So she’s in the ‘knows things’ category. Pre-cog?
Clairvoyant? Telepath?”

“Telepath, mostly.”

 
The elevator stopped
and Chad
charged the doors, again without waiting for them to fully open.

“Like to see you two in action. You’re one of the strongest
telepaths I’ve ever met.”

“Even not knowing what it was, she was already as strong as
me, G. And the Tear’s intensified that already, I think. She dreamed last
night. One of our past lives. Woke up and slapped the shit out of me for
something happened two thousand years ago. Without the Tear. Apparently, she
didn’t need it.”

“I’m sure you deserved it. Any other powers you suspect
might be lurking down underneath just waiting to break through?”

“Nothing definitive yet. Probably several, though. She’s
complicated.”

 
“All women are
complicated, Magic Man, and witches more than most.”

“She takes it to a new level, trust me.”

He reached the SUV and unlocked the door, wasting no time in
cranking up. He threw it into reverse. Then he braked quickly.

“Wait a minute! Savannah’s
full of rich eccentrics. It’s famous for it. So the reincarnation thing’s the
original hook, it’d grab ‘em big time. Proves they’re special. For them, it’d
be better than being a Son or Daughter of the American Revolution or the
Confederacy. Marks their pedigree, they’d love it. But just a big membership
fee wouldn’t net the type of money that restored that house. Somebody with a
big dose of mind-control capability, though, somebody who could psychically
push
another person to do what they were
told—”

“Especially if the Tear, through the Seer, intensified it.
Oh yeah, they’d—”

“Stand in line to empty their bank accounts into his.”

“Cookin’ with gas, Magic Man. So he’s taken Ariel to drain
her. He needs the Seer’s ability to intensify power to make his mind control
power strong enough to have that big an effect.”

The SUV gained speed and started moving. The connection
started to fade as it cleared the parking ramps. I’d have to work on this
physic eavesdropping thing. I wiggled my fingers again and rubbed the diamond
faster. That was a little better but not much. They were still fading in and
out, like a cell phone conversation running through a bad spot of cell
reception. Then I had it. I couldn’t hover. I had to keep up with the car. I
concentrated hard and falling back on legend, imagined I was riding a broom. I
felt a rush of wind around me. I actually felt it blowing my hair. And suddenly
I was flying. Which was a good thing, because Chad sure as hell wasn’t standing
still.

“Then he’s bitten off a hell of lot more than he’ll be able
to chew this time,” Chad
said, and actually laughed. Well, I was glad I could provide some amusement. He
stopped for a traffic light and I overshot the car and had to backtrack a bit,
so I missed the first part of his next comment. I got back in time for “… I
just didn’t remember it ‘cause I only know of one time I’m sure she did it,
she’s got to be pissed as hell first. And come to think of it, hungry.”

“A pissed hungry witch is not a good combination, no.”

It would have been nice to know what Chad remembered
resulting from some past incident wherein I’d been both pissed and hungry since
I didn’t remember anything notable at the moment, but I’d have to worry about
that later. Because two things happened simultaneously on both planes I was
inhabiting at the moment.

Chad’s
line of traffic got the green light and began to move again. At least, it moved
until the tremendously loud blast of a big rig’s horn screamed in my psychic
ear as the lead car on the left hand side of the Whitaker and York intersection decided to ignore its red
light and play chicken with an eighteen wheeler. It lost.

“Shit, damn, hell,
fuck
!”
said my husband, looking at the blocked intersection.

I’d have loved to stay and chat, but the sound of the
doorknob turning broke my concentration. The cat—Micah, whether anybody but me
ever believed it, jumped out of my lap and tore back under the bed,
disappearing from sight a second before the door opened.

At least I didn’t have to insult Ollie over there any longer
by addressing the turdsniffer as Hedgepath.

I smiled brightly at him.

“I believe your name is Legion?”

Chapter Seventeen

Legion did a good job of dead-panning it, but his eyes gave
him away. I’d surprised the hell out of him.

“It’s possible I owe you an apology,” he said.

“Do tell?”

“I might have underestimated you slightly.” He walked toward
me carrying a glass of ice water, a long straw already in place. “Here. I’m
sure the lingering taste of the chloroform isn’t pleasant.” He bent and held
the straw to my lips. I closed them firmly and shook my head.

“No?” He straightened. “Sure? I realize you’re embarrassed
by your eminent defeat but wounded pride’s no reason to be uncomfortable.”

I laughed. “Embarrassed? No. Cautious. God only knows what’s
in that water. Eye of newt and tongue of toad. Or knock-out drops. I’d rather
keep the cotton mouth, thank you.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll go continue my
preparations for Magic Man’s arrival then. Wouldn’t want him to feel
unwelcome.”

He turned back toward the door. As he walked a kaleidoscope
of shifting scenes and places flashed through my brain at high speed, flying
backward in time. I caught glimpses of different times, different names. And
then I was back. Back at the beginning. Back with
Caeso Gellius Acilianus and Livia Rufinus.

Livia stood, out of
sight, straining to hear the conversation between Gellius and Tiberius Antius
Magnus. Odd, how easily the Latin words clarified in my English-speaking brain.

“You’re a fool, Gellius. One night. One night
with your wife relieves you of this duty. I’ll send another out against Gaius’
driver in this bet. Yes, you’re very good, but I can send a professional
charioteer, not one of my soldiers who cannot refuse my orders. One night with
Livia.”

“Rome
will fall before you touch my wife.”

“Then you will die. And I will have her every
night.”

“We will see.”

Rage two thousand years old flew over me, burning even
hotter now than it had then. Rage at Tiberius, whose lust and arrogance had
killed Gellius. Rage at Gellius, whose pride and honor had allowed Tiberius to
kill him. Which, just incidentally, had left Livia to deal with Tiberius on her
own. She had, too, but the fact that she’d had to enraged me even further.
Honor be damned. No woman gave a damn about honor if it meant harm to those she
loved. And here he was. Back again. This bastard had haunted us through all our
lives. Every damn one of them. Starting with that one.

“Legion!”

He stopped and faced me. “Yes?”

“You’ve
always
underestimated me, you know. Haven’t you?
Neville.
Diego. Koro. Boris. Tiberius.”
That name I almost spat. “Legion. Oh, yeah.
Legion’s just
perfect
. When one knows
all the facts, of course.”

“I will truly enjoy dealing with you. After I’ve evened the
score with Magic Man, of course. I believe after this we’ll be three and
three.” He moved for the door again.

“We will see,” I said, deliberately quoting Gellius. The
phrase didn’t register with him. Obviously, he didn’t remember his score with
me. Good. I wanted to see the look on his face when he did. When he remembered.
His score with me.

Chapter Eighteen

Micah emerged from under the bed. He walked back to me and
rubbed against my ankles. Then he sat on his haunches and looked at me. And
jerked his head toward Ollie.

“Excuse me?” I said. “Did you just try and tell me
something?”

He rolled his eyes, as though exasperated with my failure to
speak fluent cat. He jerked his head back toward Ollie again.

“Okay. You want me to do something with Ollie. Well, what?
I’m open to suggestions. ‘Cause hate to tell you, darlin’, but he’s a few
shovels short of a full load right now. You hadn’t noticed?”

 
“
Hssssssssssssssssssssssssssss!”
Micah said, clearly expressing his
disgust with my limited human intelligence. He stood up, took a few steps
towards Ollie and bounded up in his lap. And proceeded to wash Ollie’s hands
for him. His unbound hands.

“Look,” I said. “I’m not quite that dense. I know Ollie’s
hands aren’t taped. I just don’t know what use you expect me to make of it
right now. Present circumstances being what they are and all.”

Micah glared at me.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!” I said. “It’s not
like he can hear me, you know. I mean, I can’t just
make
him wake up!”

“
Meeeeeooooowwwwwwwww!”
he purred approvingly. That’s when it hit me. I knew what I’d missed when
I’d overshot the SUV and had to backtrack. What Chad had been telling G.

“…I only know of one
time I’m sure she did it, she’s got to be pissed as hell first. And come to
think of it, hungry.”

 
Mind control. Mind
dominance. Power of suggestion. That sounded better. Less power trippy. The
Saturday I’d been working at the office on a case from Hell and the attorneys
seemed to have sorta kinda forgotten about us girls as they issued their lunch
orders to the designated pickup person. It had been the first time I’d ever
shouted that loudly at anybody. Not out loud, of course. In my mind.

"I do not believe y'all are that freakin' rude and insensitive!
You've got three girls you've hauled down here on their Saturdays, and you
don't even have the manners to ask them if they're hungry, let alone offer to
buy their lunch?!?!"

I hadn’t expected any result
other than tension relief from my mental tirade, but they’d done a double-take
as though someone’d popped them on the sides of their heads and immediately
asked what we wanted for lunch. I still wasn’t sure if it was me or their
mamas’ raising kicking in that had made them ask us. Chad’d been certain it was me. And
oh, yeah, at the time, I’d been
pissed.
And
hungry, too. I wasn’t currently hungry. Somewhat nauseated, in fact, there was
a reason chloroform hadn’t ever made it to the top ten recreational drugs of
choice. But I was damn sure pissed.

I took a deep breath and
stared straight at the catatonic Oliver Hedgepath, locking in on his eyes.

“Mr. Hedgepath! Can you hear me?”

Nothing. Micah leaped up on
Ollie’s shoulders and curled around his neck. He started humming like a little
generator, attempting to up the amperage of my mental shout.

“Oliver! Oliver Hedgepath! Snap out of it! You’re better than he is!
Don’t let him beat you! I need some help here!”

Nothing. Micah’s purring
leaped into highest gear. My eyes narrowed into slits, gathering every shard of
the concentration I was rolling into one big ball. I tilted my head back
slightly and then threw it forward. I felt the power streaming like laser
blasts from my eyes. And I saw it enter his.