The Witch and the Englishman

There was a pause and I felt Sam scanning my thoughts. Yes, she and I were connected telepathically, even over long distances. Her feeding on me had a lot to do with that. Anyway, it was sometimes easier just to have her scan my thoughts, rather than relay them verbally. Telepathic communication was, if anything, efficient.

“Ah,” said Sam when she was done. The scan only took seconds. Telepathic communication was fast, too. Everyone should try it.

“‘Ah’ is right,” I said glumly. I had pulled over to the side of the road, not to admire the passing autocade of the world’s nicest cars, but because I was still too shaken to drive straight. And…I couldn’t think of anywhere to go. I just needed to stop and think and cry and talk.

“You’ve had quite a day,” said Sam. Her voice was soothing and full of the kind of understanding that only two people who are deeply connected could have. After all, she had literally just relived the highlights—and lowlights—of my day.

“Sometimes it sucks being me,” I said.

“Join the club,” said Sam, with a small laugh. “Then again, part of what you have become is because of me, so I’m sorry for that.”

“Nah. Don’t be sorry. I’m just having a pity party. Truth is, I wouldn’t trade what I am now for anything in the world. And you didn’t force me to hang around with you, unless you did some weird mind trick on me or something.”

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but that’s not one of them. And they call it ‘compulsion’ on The Vampire Diaries.”

Hearing Sam make real-life comparisons to The Vampire Diaries was amusing and surreal all rolled into one. I said, “Well, you’ve compelled people to tell you the truth in the past.”

“That was just a momentary, passing thing. I barely knew what I was doing.”

I said, “So, you don’t think you could compel people for longer periods of time?”

I could almost see Sam shrug on her end of the line. Correction, I could actually see her shrug. I had, after all, a minor visual image of her on the periphery of my thoughts. It was an almost automatic link-up to her, a link-up that just happened without my trying. Yes, she and I were deeply connected.

“I don’t know, but I’ll look into it.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a good you-know-what, Sam.”

“For now,” she said, in a rare instance of negativity. I knew that Sam the vampire wasn’t entirely sure how long she could remain “good,” which, of course, was a relative term. The thing within her—a very dark entity that had gained access to this world through her—was doing its best to control her…and to possess her completely. Such dark entities were the driving force behind vampires and werewolves. Yes, werewolves. And, yes, I even knew of a werewolf. Hell, I might have even had a small crush on him, too. Except, of course, he was Samantha Moon’s ex-boyfriend. Not to mention, he still carried a torch for her. A major torch for her. But, dammit, he was just so…yummy.

“Are you quite done?” she asked.

“Er, sorry.”

“I mean, I can literally feel you lusting after Kingsley. That’s kind of gross.”

“Sorry. He’s just so…never mind.”

“Yes, he is yummy,” said Samantha, reading my mind. “He’s also a playboy and a cheat.”

“He was set up, Sam. Some would make the argument that it wasn’t even his fault.”

“Some?” I heard the bite in her voice.

“Not me, of course,” I said quickly. I didn’t like pissing off my friend. Not to mention, it was probably never a good idea to piss off a vampire, especially a vampire who was presently battling a deeper darkness within. A darkness that could, at any moment, take total control of her. “But let it be known that I am officially on record for having an innocent crush on Kingsley.”

“Fine, whatever. Now, can we change the subject? Like back to why you called me in the first place?”

I nodded, but the truth was, I was enjoying not thinking about Billy Turner’s imminent death…or the thing that stalked his house. Outside my car, a couple were walking hand-in-hand. There had been an older photo of Billy and his daughter holding hands, too. Life could be so good in one moment…and so wrong the next.

“Billy Turner is going to be murdered, isn’t he?” asked Samantha suddenly.

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know who kills him.”

“No.”

“I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what you’re thinking, Allie.”

“Well, wouldn’t you?” I asked.

She paused for only a nanosecond. “Yeah, I probably would do anything I could to save him, too.”

“It seems like the obvious thing to do,” I said.

“It does,” agreed Sam.

“Except…”

“Except what?” asked Sam.

“Except Millicent thinks it’s very much the wrong thing to do.”

“Millicent is an old prude. Not to mention, she’s dead. I’m not sure I like her.”

“We were all friends once, Sam. In fact, we were friends in many, many lifetimes.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know her in this lifetime. And, as far as I’m concerned, she’s an old fuddy-duddy who’s kind of creepy.”

“She’s more of a guide than a ghost, Sam. She knows what she’s doing and she’s teaching me to, you know, control what I am.”

“Well, there’s something about her that doesn’t sit right with me. Something that bothers me.”

I suspected I knew what that something was and gave Sam access to my suspicion.

“Maybe,” said Sam.

“There’s no maybe about it. She rejected you. In essence, she told you that you were not worthy to be the thing that we had been throughout many lifetimes. In effect, she cast you out of our little witch circle.”

Sam said nothing. Her own husband had rejected her, too, and I knew that had scarred her, even to this day, and even though the man was quite dead.

“It doesn’t mean she doesn’t still like you, Sam. It just means you can’t be, you know, a witch.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a witch.”

“You don’t have to be a witch, Sam. You’re something different. Something very special.”

“Oh, bullshit. There’s a she-devil living inside me just waiting to take me over for all eternity. But thanks for trying.”