Jeanne Stein - Cloud City

Silence. I don’t feel Jonathan’s presence and wonder if Sophie is having trouble bringing him back but then…

Company? Sophie, what do you mean? What did you do?

Jonathan’s voice is muted, his speech slurred as if he’d just awakened from a drug-induced sleep.

Leticia’s shoulders jump, startled eyes widening as she recognizes the voice. “Jonathan?”

There’s a moment when the very air in the room begins to vibrate with the intensity of her confusion. “Where are you?”

“I told you,” Sophie says, repeating her fist to chest gesture. “He’s in here. He’s a part of me.”

Leticia grabs her shoulders. “How did you do it? Can you get him back?”

Leticia ? This time the thickness in Jonathan’s voice is more than being dragged to consciousness. How is this possible? How are you here?

“The witch brought me. She says her name is Sophie Deveraux. I don’t understand.”

I feel Jonathan’s mystification as he tries to puzzle out Sophie’s motivation for bringing Leticia to Leadville. It’s more than Prendergast, he’s sure of it. He reaches out to me.

What is she doing, Anna?

Before I can respond, Sophie does. “Don’t ask Anna,” she says, breaking into his cloaked thought. “Ask me.”

Jonathan is startled by the intrusion into what he assumed was a private exchange. It doesn’t take him more than a heartbeat to understand. How long--?

“Long enough. It’s not so hard once you understand which part of the mind to open and which part to close.”

Leticia’s impatience grows with her confusion. She’s fighting to control the vampire’s natural inclination to tear the information out of Sophie. I see her jaw tense, hear her teeth gnash.

“Sophie, you’d better tell Leticia what she wants to know,” I say, trying to ward off trouble. Leticia doesn’t know that harming Sophie will harm Jonathan.

Sophie turns to Leticia. “You and Jonathan want to know why I brought you here? It’s simple really. I want to reunite lovers. I want you to take Jonathan with you when I send you back.”

My spidey sense starts to tingle with alarm. “Sophie, how do you expect to do that?”

Jonathan must be feeling the same panic. It’s not possible , he says. You know it’s not possible, Sophie.

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, Anna. I have it all figured out. At first I thought I’d make Leticia and Jonathan one, like he is with me. But then I got a better idea.” Her eyes twinkle as she glances over at a still prone Prendergast and whispers in my ear. “How do you think Jonathan will like being an editor?”

“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.”

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.”