Shades of Gray: A Jude Magdalyn Novel (5 page)

Chapter Five

I shoved the door of
my studio open with enough strength to rattle the pictures on the wall and kicked it shut with an equal amount of force. There’s something about slamming doors that makes you feel a little bit better. Williams looked over his shoulder from his position on the couch. Law and Order’s theme music was a decibel lower than his question. “Is there another problem, Jude Magdalyn?”

Dropping my purse on the counter, I contemplated acting like a mature adult. Playing the part of someone who could sit down and talk about disturbing issues in a calm manner without violence. In the end, I yanked my shoe off and threw at it the back of his head.

Of course, he ducked. Damn it.

“I would take that as an answer in the affirmative.” Williams muted the television, which is more annoying to me than simply turning the volume down. I suck at reading lips, so I get distracted trying to figure out the story line because I have no idea what they’re saying. “Perhaps you’d care to tell me what the problem is, and we’ll see what can be done to solve it.”

“Unless you can turn the clock back and keep the past twenty-four hours or so from happening, I don’t think there’s going to be a solution to this problem.” Disgusted with myself for throwing my shoe at him, for missing, and for the whole damn day in general, I stomped over and plopped down on the couch. Grabbing the remote from him, I turned the volume up, then back down to a murmur. Not enough to distract, but enough that I wouldn’t be looking at the television trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

“I take it you’ve had some sort of power manifestation.”

“Hell if I know. It could have been just some variation on a psychotic episode.” I propped my feet on the coffee table and noticed absently I needed a pedicure. It wasn’t at the dire stage but you never actually want it to get to there before you do something. “I can now see into the future, as well as the past, by contact with someone.”

“When you say future, do you mean the immediate future or further down the road so to speak?” Williams took the remote back from me and turned the volume up. Apparently he was as obsessed with Law and Order as I was. Funny.

“Right now, seems to be just the immediate future.” I told him briefly about the man and the bump and the almost car accident. Lenny Brisco was on his third wise comment of the hour when I finished.

“Interesting. Anything else?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get my damn coffee and beignets.” It was absolutely vital he understand how pissed off I was at not being able to live my normal life. I wanted someone else to be as upset and frustrated as I was and if it meant me sounding like a whiner, so be it. I’d be damned if I was going to suffer alone or quietly. I may have been named for saints and martyrs, but no way in hell did I have the disposition of either.

“Yes, I can see how such a thing would annoy you.” He sounded just as pissed off as I did, but I guess when you’re two-hundred plus years old, you can afford to sound pissed off. “As I said, interesting. Would you care to reiterate your belief that you are not the one spoken of in the Prophecy?”

“I would, thanks.” I pushed up from the couch and stalked back into the kitchen, pulling the freezer door open. After a moment of rummaging, I found my emergency supply of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food. Stereotypical, yes. Out of line for the moment, possibly. What I wanted, right then? Absolutely.

“Jude Magdalyn, at some point you are going to have face facts. Events such as the ones happening to you are not what most people experience. Given your background—.”

I swallowed a spoonful of ice cream. It gave me almost instant brain freeze, but I needed to be able to point the spoon. It’s the little things that matter. “My supposed background. You have your side of the story and I have the history I’ve known my entire life. Take a guess on which one is easier for me to believe.”

I paused in the act of scooping more chocolate and marshmallow. “And another thing. Is there really a reason why you keep addressing me by my given and middle names? I mean, is it something I’m going to have to get used to or are you going to stop doing it after a while?”

Williams smiled, the slow kind my girly-side stopped breathing for but made my streetwise-side instantly go on guard. “Does it bother you, Jude Magdalyn? In my youth, in our situation, I would address you much more intimately than by your name.”

“Just so I’m clear, what precisely is our situation? Because I’ll admit, I’m more than a little out of my depth. You’ve got a couple of lifetimes worth of experience and I have no doubt you’ve put all that time to good use.” I licked the ice cream off the spoon, watching him watch me. I could have made it sexual, I’m not lacking in experience, but didn’t. You don’t play with fire unless you’re willing to get burned, and it was still too early to tell whether this was the kind of fire you could walk away from or whether it was the burn everything in the area to the ground kind.

“Our situation.” Williams rose from the couch and I wish I could say it was just like any other person getting up from a piece of furniture, but it wasn’t. It was more than catlike, it was like watching water move - it just does. I tossed the spoon in the sink, and snugged the lid back onto the ice cream, turning my back long enough to open the freezer door and shove it back in. By the time I turned around, he was standing in front of me, close enough to touch.

I eeped. It was better than a scream, which was the next option on my list of sounds. Slapping one hand against the refrigerator and one hand on his very close, very appealing chest, I made an effort to clear my throat. “Okay, see, this - this is what I would term a little too close for comfort.”

“But our situation, Jude Magdalyn, is one I doubt is going to lead to any level of comfort, anytime soon.” My hand was a non-existent barrier between his chest and mine, so I did what any self-respecting person would do and moved it down to my side. It was putting a cramp in my elbow, and it wasn’t doing any good where it was.

“Right. Our situation.” I paused and licked my lips, trying not to notice the way his eyes followed the innocent, nervous flick of my tongue. At the moment, he was close enough I could have licked his lips instead of mine. “What is our situation again?”

Williams laughed, the exhalation brushing across my cheek, and I shivered involuntarily. “Ah, Jude Magdalyn. Perhaps words are not explanation enough.” His face was close and so beautiful; it was just too much effort to keep my eyes open. As a result, I didn’t see him raise his face slightly, but felt it when his soft lips brushed across my left temple, and then my right. My right ear, and then my left. My left cheekbone, the bridge of my nose, my right cheekbone. Little brushes, barely enough to qualify as kisses, except for those amazing lips. People talk about being kissed like they’re being gobbled up but this was more like delicate sips of wine or water or some other precious liquid. They made my knees go weak and made me thankful for the refrigerator at my back.

“You need to tell me, Jude Magdalyn, if more explanation is necessary.” Apparently I wasn’t the only one affected by those little teases, because his voice was ragged and shaky. If I was smart, I would have pushed him away, kneed him in the balls, anything to put a little space between us. I wasn’t feeling very smart just then.

Smart is overrated.

I nodded. I wasn’t entirely certain my vocal cords could work at the moment. I hoped he understood what I meant, because explaining it was pretty much out of the question. I felt one hand reach up and cup my cheek, while the other traced the tattoo on my limp wrist.

What would have happened - the kiss to the end the ages or just the kiss ending with us both naked on a bed - I’ll never know. At that moment, someone chose to burst through the door I’d carelessly left unlocked.

“Someone said they saw the Prophecy on the streets! Williams, Gillian wants you to—.” The unfortunate messenger broke off in mid-sentence as he realized Williams was leaning against more than the refrigerator. “Oh. Well, I’ll, uh, I’ll have Gillian call you, and discuss her concerns with you.”

“Please do. And remind Gillian, the Prophecy has a name and a life outside of what we require of her. Things we might want to take into consideration.” Williams waited until the boy shut the door before speaking again.

“We’ll discuss this further at some other time. Gillian will no doubt be here in the flesh within the hour.” Williams headed towards the bathroom, looking for all the world as if he hadn’t just spent the last few minutes seducing me.

I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or pissed off.

“I was sure we agreed
The Prophecy should not be allowed to run around the city unsupervised. Given the fact we are unable to predict how her powers will manifest, and how explosive they could be, The Prophecy should not, cannot, be allowed to be un-chaperoned.” Gillian wasn’t quite wringing her hands, but it was close. It would have been funny, except for the fact she kept referring to me as The Prophecy, and I was more than a little punch-drunk from my almost kiss.

Williams was too calm, especially if you took the almost kiss into consideration. He sat on my couch, serenely sipping tea, his face a perfect blank slate he could affect in less than a second flat. “No, Gillian, you made the decision and at the moment it was made I decided it would be less problematic to pretend to agree than to point out it’s foolhardy to believe a young, healthy female would be willing to be… chaperoned.” Williams sat his tea down on the coaster, which scored him points in my book, and ran one pale, perfect hand over his face in a gesture that on anybody else would have made me think they were tired.

I lay stretched out on the floor, or more accurately on the sleeping bag I kept for overnighters. I wasn’t entirely sure about being close to Williams when my hormones were uneasy. I’d rather err on the side of caution and not be tempted to jump him while there were guests. Besides, I had a better view of the show from a distance.

“It is absolutely unthinkable for her to be allowed to run willy-nilly through the streets of New Orleans.” Gillian stirred her tea absently. “What if she were to come into power out on the street, what could be expected to happen if she had no chaperone?”

“Most likely the same thing as today. She would return home, a discussion of what happened would ensue, and a decision on whether the power needed to be added to her practice sessions would be made.” Williams took a sip of tea, and managed to suppress a grimace.

“Practice sessions? Chaperones? Really, did any of you think to remember I have bills to pay, which means I have to work? And since I don’t have a college degree, hell, I don’t even have a high school diploma, that means I’m working odd and other less… ethical jobs.” I rolled from my side to my back before I remembered the lashing from the night before. I managed to not squeal, but only because I was biting my lip. With a sigh, I rolled all the way over onto my stomach, pillowing my head on my arms.

Williams raised a concerned eyebrow. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. His lips quirked up before he spoke again. “Practice sessions. The chaperone issue is under negotiation, but practice is non-negotiable. As to your expenses, I’m surprised Gillian and the Covenant haven’t given you the good news yet.”

“Oh, there’s good news? Well, that’ll be a pleasant change.”

Gillian raised her cup and sipped her tea. I’m not sure if it was as horrible as the cold tea on the table next to me, but based on her expression it wasn’t great. “Well, it’s news. Whether one would term it good is based on one’s perception.” Setting her cup down, she pushed her hair back in an eerily familiar gesture I couldn’t quite place. “The Covenant looks after their own. Knowing what a responsibility and how time consuming it is to lead the Covenant you will be provided for financially until the day of your death.”

Before I could wrap my mind around the first bit, Gillian dropped another bomb. “In addition to being provided for financially, as your mother’s daughter, you are also the recipient of her monies and the titled owner of a piece of property on Royal Street. For the whole of its existence, the property has served as the primary base of the Covenant. During the last twenty-five years, the Covenant has conducted a good portion of its business elsewhere, but with the assumption of your ownership the dealings of the Covenant will once again be centered solely in one location.”

I tried to sit up but ended up having to wrestle my way out of the sleeping bag, costing me valuable seconds and an untold amount of dignity. “Wait, wait, just wait one effing second. Not only will I never have to go on the grift again, but I have a mortgage free house?”

“To be completely accurate, you have a mansion. I’m not sure on the exact count, but I believe there are roughly a dozen bedrooms between the main house and the refurbished servants’ quarters.” Williams smiled his little half smile again, clearly enjoying the way my jaw went completely slack. “I’m not sure what your feelings will be on the decor, but you have plenty of funds to redecorate it to your tastes.”

“May we please return to the matter at hand?” Williams and I turned our heads in Gillian’s direction. She threw her hands up in the air and exhaled a huff of air. “The issue of chaperoning the Prophecy?”

“Apparently you did not receive the message - the Prophecy has a name. A delightful, highly meaningful one. Perhaps if you say it a time or two, it will be easier for you to remember it.” Williams picked his tea up, looked up at the air conditioner vent, and set the cup back down on the table. “I personally enjoy saying her name. Jude Magdalyn.”

Gillian glared at us, huffing out another breath. “Very well, the issue of chaperoning Jude Magdalyn. I do not see how this is a negotiable issue. She simply cannot be unaccompanied. What if she were to meet Hart or one of his compatriots? At her current level of training, it would be akin to the slaughter of the lambs by the lions.”