Cloud City

Leticia holds up a hand to interrupt. “Let’s hear her out. I don’t know what’s going on, but if Sophie can bring you to me, Jonathan, I want her to do it. I’ve regretted the way we parted everyday since I left you. I was a fool to let you go. Let me make it up to you.”

She speaks the words with passion, looking into Sophie’s eyes as if seeing Jonathan reflected there.

Maybe she does.

A satisfied smile tips the corners of Sophie’s mouth as she says, “Okay. Let’s put Jonathan to sleep for awhile.” She grows still, closes her eyes, breathes in and out. After a moment she opens her eyes, releases a breath. “There. That’s better. Now let’s get to it, shall we?”

She crosses to the bar to retrieve her bag. I follow close.

“Sophie, what are you thinking? What kind of spell will separate you from Jonathan? And if you do manage to separate your essences, where will Jonathan’s go?”

She looks up at me. “Don’t worry, A

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Prendergast?” My voice croaks with disbelief. “You have to be kidding. Where will he go?”

“Oh, he’ll still be around. But he’s merely human so Jonathan will run the show. It will be the life Jonathan craves. Better than he deserves after the hell he put me through, but as long as he’s out of me, I don’t care.”

Prendergast is staring at us as if he realizes we’re talking about him but is too scared to find out why. I try to imagine Jonathan in that oily haired, New York urban chic metro-male persona and can’t. “Jonathan is never going to go for this.”

That brings a snarl from Sophie. “Did I say I was giving him a choice?”

“What about Prendergast? Don’t you think he should have a say?”

“Why? He’s going to get everything he wants, too. I imagine Jonathan will want to reclaim his estate as soon as he makes the adjustment.”

Leticia has been standing to the side, waiting for something—anything—to happen. Since Sophie and I haven’t moved in five minutes, and I’m shielding my thoughts, her patience comes to an end. She stomps over to us.

“Where’s Jonathan? I want to talk to him.”

“You’ll soon be able to talk to him all you want,” Sophie replies. “You’ll be able to talk, kiss, fuck. Pick up right where you left off a hundred years ago. Course some things will be different. He won’t look the same.”

The tease in her voice snaps Leticia’s ire. “What do you mean?”

Sophie’s eyes drift to Prendergast. “I’m afraid Jonathan’s physical body is gone. Now I know there’s a certain ick factor to fucking your great-grandson but you’re a vampire. I’m sure you’ve done worse.”

I can feel Leticia’s anger grow. I don’t know why Sophie is baiting her like this, but it’s not wise to push a vampire. It’s downright dangerous.

As if to prove the point, Leticia shoves Sophie against the bar. “Witch, you are trying my patience. I want Jonathan. If the only way that can happen is to place his essence in the mortal shell of that miserable excuse for a man, do it. But I warn you. It better be Jonathan in every other respect. If you damage him in any way, I will know. And you will pay.”

Leticia isn’t whispering. In fact, her voice thunders in the small bar. Prendergast catches every word. He leaps to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about?”

With two steps, Leticia is in his face. “It’s wonderful irony. You will become what you have searched for all those years.”

She leans close, one hand grasping Prendergast behind the neck, the other snaking down to cup his genitals in her palm. “I can already feel there will be some disappointments. Oh well, you know what they say. It’s not the size…”

Prendergast squeals as she squeezes. She laughs. “Just think of the perks, worm. Specifically, me.” She glances back to Sophie. “He doesn’t have a family, does he?”

“Not one he’s close to in spite of his story. A sister in Australia. A cousin in the Midwest. I checked.  He does have a fiancé, though.”

“Good. A fiancé is easily disposed of.” She lets him go. “Well, witch, what are you waiting for? Let’s do it.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Prendergast’s face is crumbling, as if he can’t understand what he’s hearing and is too frightened to try to make sense of it. He shrinks back against the bar like a turtle pulling into a shell. Is he trying to make himself less vulnerable, less exposed? It only makes him look pathetic.

Sophie’s face, on the other hand, is determined, a granite mask of resolve and tenacity. She pulls more crystals from the bag, more candles, white this time. She chooses a bundle of herbs tied with a flax ribbon and sets them aside with the vial of clear liquid she withdrew earlier. She walks over to the pentagram. She sweeps away the black candles and crystals with the back of her hand. Then she leans down and draws a circle around the star. She sets out the new candles, arranges the crystals around the perimeter of the circle. She stands up and surveys her work.

“Good. I think we’re ready.”

She goes to her bag. This time she withdraws a piece of paper and turns to me.

“You’ll have to help.”

“Me?”

She hands me the paper. “Read this as soon as the crystals ignite.”

I look it over. “What is this? Latin? I can’t read Latin.”

Leticia stalks over, grabs the paper from my hand. “I can read it. I went to school in Boston when Latin was still taught. Unlike the modern educational system that has steadfastly stripped education of all that is important.” She reads the words to herself, then fixes Sophie with a warning glare. “This is a prayer for an exorcism. To rid a host of a demon. Jonathan is not a demon.”

“That’s what I said.” I can’t help repeating what I told Sophie earlier. Most of the world might think of vampires as demons, I refuse.

“Read it more carefully,” Sophie says calmly. “I replaced the word ‘demon’ with a more i

Prendergast finally rouses himself. Color returns to his pale face. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you.” He hears what he’s saying, rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Am I crazy? Is this a nightmare? I’m leaving. And if anyone of you tries to follow me, I swear I’ll—”

He gets no farther. At first I think Leticia has done something—or Sophie—to stop him. It isn’t until he clutches a hand to his chest and bends forward at the waist that I hear it. His heart thudding in his chest. Again I think Sophie is doing it.

I whirl on her. “Stop, Sophie. You’ll kill him.”

She turns wide eyes on me. “I’m not doing anything.” When she sees my dark frown, she raises a hand. “I swear. It’s not me.”

Leticia reaches him first, places a palm flat against his heaving chest. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”

“Then we need to call an ambulance.”

“No.” Sophie grabs my arm. “We’ll save him by working the spell. Leticia, bring him to the circle. Quickly.”

Leticia doesn’t hesitate. She sweeps a gasping Prendergast into her arms. “What do I do?”

“Put him the circle.”

Leticia sets Prendergast on his feet. His breathing is quick, shallow. He grabs at his left arm. “Please. I have a heart condition. In my pocket. Nitroglycerine.”

Leticia casts a glance in Sophie’s direction. “Will it affect the spell?”

Sophie shakes her head. “I don’t think so. And we need him alive.”

Leticia searches his pockets, finally finding the small container in his jacket. She opens it and spills one of the white tablets into her hand.