Love Charms (126 page)

I gave up on my search then, and, out of
anxiety, gorged myself on food until I couldn’t breathe. After which, I parked
my distended stomach on a couch and watched television until I fell asleep.

I woke much later to find the sun gone
and the cable channel had switched from showing old comedies to infomercials.
Groggy, I stumbled into a bedroom and tucked myself into a nice soft bed.

The voices started almost immediately.

“Renegades are the future of the human
race," said throaty female voice that sounded way too cheerful about the
renegades being in charge of humans’ future. She probably didn’t know about the
collars.

“Renegades want what is best for humans,”
said an authoritative male voice. I doubted this guy knew about the collars
either. Or else he endorsed human slavery, making his concept of ‘best’ very
different from mine.

My eyes snapped open and I looked around
trying to determine where the voices were coming from. But my room was empty. I
didn’t see speakers anywhere. I had turned off the T.V. before bed...hadn’t I?
I dragged myself out of bed and poked my head out to verify the T.V. was off.
It was.

Puzzled I went to back to bed chalking it
up to nerves or perhaps some odd acoustics in the house. Maybe I was hearing a
conversation from another room coming in through the air-conditioning vent
above the bed.

I closed my eyes, prepared to drift off
into a deep sleep, but I heard more voices.

“You’re an asset to the renegades. We
need the absolute best from you to succeed.” It was the woman again and she
sounded so happy, I expected her to shout ‘go team’ any second.

“Magic should serve humans, not the other
way around," said the man in his booming voice.

I opened my eyes again and sat up,
frowning. What was with the disembodied propaganda? It reminded me of a
training seminar I had attended once in my short-lived corporate career. Full
of false confidence and platitudes. Lip service to the theory, not the reality.

I turned on the light and started looking
for the source of the voices, but not only could I not find any speakers (not
even under the mattress), but the voices had stopped again. Frustrated, I
turned the light off and flopped back into bed, staring up at the ceiling,
waiting.

My eyes had just drooped closed when it
started again. This time, I just laid still and listened, curious to see what
would happen.

“Humans should have free access to magic.
Magic isn’t just for the Fay.”

“As for Supernaturals, Vampires wouldn’t
be here without humans. Have they ever helped us? No. But do we supply blood to
them through our blood bank system? Yes. They need us to survive, but don’t
return our kindness.”

“Have werewolves ever helped track a
missing child? No. But have humans made laws to accommodate werewolves’ special
needs? Yes.”

“Humans have gotten the short end of the
stick for centuries now. Denied magic, stalked and hunted by Supernaturals, who
now force us to structure our entire society around their needs. It’s time for
us to demand equal consideration.”

“This was our world first, theirs second.
God made us Guardians of all He created, including the Sidhe and
supernaturals.”

And so it went, spouting racist baloney
in an endless loop until I wanted to scream. I searched the room two more
times, checked the T.V. again, the stereo, and even went so far as to try and
pry the air conditioning vent loose. The second I started moving, the voices
stopped, only to start up again right before I drifted off to sleep.

Eventually, I was so tired, they failed
to wake me up and I fell into a deep sleep, the renegade credo droning in my
ears.

Chapter
Fifteen

The next morning, Athena came into the
kitchen as I was buttering my toast. Once again, she wore impossibly high
stiletto heels. Today’s shoes were navy and matched her pinstriped pantsuit. A
string of pearls hung around her neck, dangling between her breasts, which were
barely covered by a half-unbuttoned white shirt that did little to hide the
lace bra she wore underneath. Her short hair had been slicked back with gel,
giving it a wet just-out-of-the-shower look. She looked like a model from
Vogue. She even smelled good, I caught a whiff of her musk perfume as she
passed me. I felt frumpy and pudgy next to her. Why did the bad guys always get
the good clothes?

“Good morning, Sofia.” She took a mug out
of a cupboard, and poured herself a cup of coffee. “Sleep well?”

I nodded.

She paused in the middle of adding sugar
to her mug. “I like verbal responses to my questions. You’re too shy with
words.”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, bristling, and
scraping butter across the bread with more force than was necessary.

“That’s better. Kristoff likes his people
quiet, so that will serve you well, but I expect people to speak when spoken
to.”

At the meaningful look she gave me, I
managed a soft, “Okay.”

She took a sip of her coffee and watched
me put strawberry jam on my toast. “Renegades are....” she trailed off, waiting
expectantly.

“The future of the human race.” The words
came to me without thought and they were out before I could stop them. Eyes
wide with shock, I put a hand to my mouth as if I could stuff them back in.

“Excellent. You did sleep well, then.”
She drank the last of her coffee and put her cup in the sink before strutting
past me, heading back to the office where we had met the day before.

I took my toast and went back to sit on
the sofa closest to the big screen T.V., my thoughts heavy. The voices last
night hadn’t been my imagination or an acoustic mistake, it had been an attempt
to brainwash me. Based on what happened in the kitchen, it appeared to have had
some success. I was well on my way to becoming a renegade puppet.

I ate my breakfast, the toast tasting
like ash, and took my dishes back to the kitchen, deciding to wash them simply
because I had nothing better to do. Misery mixed with toast in my stomach resulting
in a heavy ball of hopeless nausea. The collar made escape impossible and the
brainwashing made me question how long it would be before my personality
dissolved and slipped down the drain like the soap suds in the sink, never to
be seen again. How long before I sniveled like Fred the mage? Not a happy
thought. Add the fact Vera was probably dead by now, and Jacob was nothing more
than a hint of bone sticking out of the ground in the Wastelands, and I found
myself sniffing back tears.

All I had wanted was to be an antique
dealer, find a guy to fall in love with, and maybe get married someday. I never
wanted to be a private eye or work for dragon-Sidhe peace or be psychic for
that matter. But because I was psychic, I did all the things I never wanted to,
at the behest of people I cared about only to have them die or be kidnapped
while finding myself about to become a saleable commodity for the renegades.

If the renegades had done any research,
they would’ve known I’d never solved a case or successfully used my psychic
abilities beyond selling antiques. Perhaps if they had known that, I would’ve
lost some of my appeal. As psychics went, all I was good for was getting people
killed.

I finished washing the dishes and put
them in the rack to dry. Bored and depressed, I drifted aimlessly through the
house, a numb feeling in my chest. The house was empty as usual, the rooms
filled with quiet dread. Unable to find a distraction in the house, and not
wanting to go outside, I returned to my room with the idea of taking a nap.
What I really needed was a drink, but, if there was any alcohol in the house, I
had yet to find it. I pulled the blankets over my head and huddled underneath
them, taking comfort in the warmth as I slipped into a light sleep.

This time, no voices regaled me with
twisted renegade truth and I slept until a familiar clacking of high-heels woke
me up. I tossed the blanket aside to find Athena standing over me, a hand on
her hip, foot tapping on the wood floor of the bedroom. “Someone from Kristoff’s
organization is here to pick you up. Meet me in my office in five minutes.”

“Okay,” I said with a groggy yawn.

“I suggest you brush your hair before you
come, it’s a mess," Athena said, already turning to leave. “Don’t make us
wait too long.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said to her back, running
my fingers through my hair to smooth out any snarls.

Moving without enthusiasm, much like an
inmate walking to their execution, I twisted my hair into a thick coil and used
a scrunchie to put it up in a makeshift bun. Then I took a deep breath and
tried to prepare myself for whatever came next. Kind of hard to do when I had
no idea what was going to happen, but I did my best.

* * *

I found Athena in her office once again
talking on her cell phone, a false cheer in her voice as she promised someone a
faster delivery on an ‘asset’. A chill went through me at the word and I
wondered who she might be talking about. Me? Some other poor soul snatched by
the renegades?

Also in the room, was a tall woman with
ash blonde hair. She sat on the cream love seat next to Athena’s desk, hands
clasped patiently in her lap, hazel eyes fixed on the door. When she caught
sight of me, she smiled revealing perfect white teeth. “You must be Sofia.”

I nodded, and then, remembering Athena’s
preferences, followed it with a quiet, “Yes.” I stood, hovering half in, half
out of the room, unsure of what to do.

Athena finished her phone call with a
hearty, insincere laugh. She pushed the antennae in and set the phone on the
edge of her desk. “Sofia this is Julia, one of Kristoff’s staff. You’ll be
going with her today.” She sorted through some files on her desk and pulled out
a stack of papers at least a quarter inch thick. “Julia, if you will be so kind
as to sign the contract while I verify the funds have transferred to my
account.”

“Of course. I assume this is the standard
contract?” Julie walked over to take the paperwork. Her height came naturally
and not from shoes. She wore plain black leather flats along with a body
skimming sheath dress in nubby black silk. Very elegant. Again I became
conscious of my jeans and rumpled T-shirt, feeling like a frumpy haus-frau by
comparison. But then I was the slave. I doubted slaves were supposed to look as
good or better than their owners.

“Yes. The usual clauses,” Athena said,
typing on her laptop with quick, precise movements of her fingers.

Julie signed the contract without even
bothering to read it. When she finished, Athena reached over and tucked the
contract back into its file. “The money is in my account. I think we’re all
set.”

“Excellent.”

“Just let me reset her collar for you.”
She pressed a button and the static buzz of an intercom filled the room.
“Please send Fred up to my office.”

Moments later, Fred brushed past me to
scurry into the room, eyes blinking rapidly at the bright sun streaming in
through the windows behind Athena’s desk. Putting Fred under harsh light was a
mistake. His gray skin was paper thin with mottled blue veins running
underneath. He wore the same tattered dress shirt and ill-fitting pants I had
seen him in the day before. Fred may have left the basement, but the basement
hadn’t left Fred, he smelled of wet steel with the rank undertone of someone
who should shower more often. “You called for me Miss Athena?”

“Yes, mage. Sofia is leaving us today and
her collar needs to be recast.”

“Very well,” he said with a deferential
nod.

“Sofia, please come in and let Fred work
with your collar.” Athena’s tone was pleasant enough, but I caught the
narrowing of her eyes. This was a command, not a request.

Fred, Julie, and Athena all looked at
where I stood in the doorway. I hesitated, even though I knew there was no
point in fighting. Nor was there any escape, but I couldn’t just walk in like a
lamb led to slaughter. There had to be a way out of this. Some last minute
reprieve or overlooked loophole, but as the seconds stretched longer and
longer, no rescue materialized. My life wasn’t some James Bond movie. I had no
gadget to save me or advanced training or secret spook squad that would swoop
in to save me at the last minute. All I had was me; psychic antique specialist.
Which wasn’t much.

Athena sighed when I didn’t move. “I’m
going to ask one more time. If you don’t cooperate, you’ll be disobeying a
direct order. I believe you know what happens then.”

I put a hand to my throat and touched the
collar. I could feel my pulse quickening underneath my skin, fluttering like a
trapped bird against the indifferent metal.

“Come in and give Fred access to your
collar.”

I put a foot forward, took one step and
stopped. Why, I don’t know, but I just couldn’t let them take me without a
fight.

Without warning,  I crashed to the floor,
making a grunting noise deep in my throat because I couldn’t open my jaw wide
enough to scream. A sensation similar to thousands of sharp needles struck in
waves across my body followed by strong, agonizing muscular contractions. I had
disobeyed and now I was paying the price. The shock only lasted a few seconds,
but left me worn, too weak to move. I lay on the floor, in a fetal position,
and waited for the room to stop spinning.

Athena didn’t give me much time to
recover. “Sofia, get up and do as I asked. The next shock will be at twice the
strength, so I suggest you be quick about it.”

I flopped over onto my hands and knees,
and tried to stand, only to find my legs wouldn’t hold me. With the three of
them watching, I crawled, slowly and painfully, to where Fred stood. Once
there, I sat, my legs tucked underneath me, and tilted my head to give him
access to the collar. Just like a dog. I swallowed back bitterness while Fred
tinkered with my collar. As before, the metal sparked, snapping heat across my
neck and chest. This time I was prepared and didn’t flinch despite the pain.

“All set, Miss Athena,” Fred said, his
smile revealing crooked, yellow teeth.

“You may go now.” Athena waited until
Fred had left the room and then turned to address me. “You have been sold, but
the collar you wear marks you as a renegade asset. You will always belong to
us. Should Kristoff die or decide he has no use for you, ownership will revert
to us. Fred has recast the collar so that you may cross the property line. The
collar will still shock you if you disobey a direct order from a renegade or
Kristoff, but is no longer set to kill if you run. However, any attempt to
escape will be considered disobedience and will result in continuous shocks
until you return or are re-captured. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I stared at the floor.

“And just to save everyone the trouble,
don’t be stupid and try to take the collar off. It can’t be cut or removed by
anyone except Fred. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” I said again, my voice barely
above a murmur.

“You can take her now,” Athena said to
Julie with a dismissive wave in my direction.

Julia nodded and came toward me. “Thank
you Athena.” To me, she said, “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” I rocked back on my heels,
but my legs were shaking so much I couldn’t balance well enough to stand. 
Julia leaned down and grabbed my hand to help me up. The zap of the collar had
scattered my mental shields and Julia’s touch was like a match in oil. A
connection flared between us and, just like Detective Wallace, she wasn’t
alive.

Who wasn’t a zombie these days?