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“That was quick,” mutters Allison, while pushing herself up to sit.
“Rough night?” I ask.
“Nah. Usual.” She yawns. “I may be getting too old for this overnight radio show crap, though.”
No sense joking about offering to turn her into a vampire anymore. Not sure I can even do that now, since the kind of vampire I’ve become doesn’t have fangs or drink blood. Hmm. I wonder. Would completely draining someone entirely of mental energy kill them so they rise as a psychic vampire? Or would it simply turn them into a television network executive? You know, one of the people who decides which shows get canceled and which ones go on for eleven seasons.
I sit on an open part of the sofa. “Something strange happened.”
“Strange for you, or strange in general?” Allison yawns while stretching.
Ugh. Looking at her is making even me tired. “Strange for me.”
She blinks. “Uh oh. What’s trying to end the world this time?”
I laugh. “Not that bad. So, Paxton called me for help yesterday…” I explain what happened at the museum since Allison is apparently too tired to take a telepathic peek inside my head and ‘see all the crazy.’ When finished, I add, “It doesn’t make any sense why it feels as if my magic’s gotten supercharged.”
She leans forward, yawning. “Give me a few minutes to finish waking up and I’d like to check some stuff.”
“Okay.”
I lean back into the sofa while Allison hurries deeper into her apartment. ‘Finish waking up’ is code for heading to the bathroom and a quick change of clothes. The TV’s on, so I relax and watch a rerun of an old cop show. I think I remember seeing this when I was little. It’s got Captain Kirk from Star Trek as the main character. What the heck was the name of that show? She reappears in the living room maybe ten minutes later, having put on a somewhat hippie-inspired sundress. It’s tie-dyed in white, burgundy, and peach colors.
“Apparate us to the usual spot?” asks Allie.
“T.J. Hooker!” I say suddenly.
She stares. “Say what?”
I point at the TV. “I’ve been trying to remember the name of this old cop show for ten minutes.”
She laughs. “Funny name for a cop show. So, the usual spot?”
“Sure.” I get up and take her hand, close my eyes, and picture this area out in the woods where we often go to do magical stuff free from prying eyes.
Allie likes the place. It’s not exactly a ley line node, though it does have a fairly strong ambient energy that’s no doubt a side effect of people using real magic there over and over.
We appear in the woods. The air is cooler than inside her apartment, being higher up and in the shade. It’s not quite coat levels of chilly.
“Okay. Let’s see if you can toss one of those big balls you talked about. Throw it at the ground over there.” Allison points off to one side. “Ready?”
I nod, raise my hand, and think about tossing a lightning ball. Normally, when I do this, it makes a projectile about the size of a tennis ball. Not exactly the most dangerous or powerful of spells. Becoming an immortal really ruined my magical potential. Oh, well. There’s no sense being sad or happy about things I can’t change.
Anyway, this time… the ball that forms in my hand is huge. It’s still about basketball size. Maybe because I want Allison to see it, the crackling sphere sits on my outstretched palm rather than immediately launching off. It kinda looks like one of those plasma sphere toys with a barely visible outer shell containing a shifting network of almost purple energy streams emanating from a central core.
A few seconds after it appears, the lightning orb rockets away and slams into the ground at the spot I was mentally targeting, leaving a burn mark and a small fire. A nano-second later, a boom echoes into the trees.
Allison jumps. “Whoa.”
I run over and stomp out the flames. The last thing I need is to set off yet another giant wildfire. California has had way too many of those lately. “Whoa indeed.” I drag my sneakers back and forth across the ground, making damn sure there’s nothing smoldering.
“Hmm.” Allison walks over and puts her hand on my forehead like she’s checking for a fever. Then, she grasps my neck in both hands lightly while staring into my eyes. A moment later, she moves her hands to my waist… and starts tickling me.
I laugh and reflexively stumble backward, away from her. “Is that necessary?”
She grins. “Not the tickling part. I wanted to see how long you’d tolerate being poked and prodded.”
“Mm hmm.” I fold my arms. “Were you doing anything there or just messing with me?”
