The Magician
I sigh into the speaker as I walk aimlessly down the street, heading back into the Quarter. “Daddy, it wasn’t that bad…just, you know, a little drowning.”
Read MoreNew Orleans
A Distant Memory
I let out a long sigh as my body relaxes. The air here is different. I don’t know how to explain it, but it makes me feel more alive. Like my powers are slowly being regenerated from the Source.
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A Strange Homecoming, Part I
“Good, because that is where the Source is. The magic in this world springs from that location, and I need you to go there. You will find answers to your questions and perhaps a new purpose in your life. Not that the life you are living is not worthwhile, but I know you can be so much more.”
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Wolves of War, Part I
She is a werecoyote with the attitude to match. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in aggression and expertise shooting. She came with me from Mexico when I left, and she is someone I trust completely. I trust all of those that work for me. How could I not? They know the price of betrayal is always paid in blood.
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Home
Sitting back in my chair, I look at my tattoo, worry churning in my gut. The black dragon that wraps around my right arm is starting to fade from the lack of magic in my body. Just before I transform, the tattoo glows red, but at this point, I am not sure I could even make the shift. I rub my arm, squeezing my eyes shut as my head pounds. I’m tired—no, exhausted. My muscles and my mind are aching for a reboot. I can’t remember the last time I’d properly slept.
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Sorry, Wrong Number
“You’ve already tied yourself to one demon, at least this way, you’d get something out of it. I offer power, magic, a tie to that same Source that so foolishly called your uncle here instead of you. In exchange, I get you.”
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Ms. Bethal’s Sad Last Day
My minions stop their assault and stare at her with dead eyes. She is frozen to the spot, looking at them. She sees Hell in their eyes, and rightfully so, she is bound there. One of the hounds jumps up and pounds the window, barking and snapping its teeth in a spray of hot spit. She screams and stumbles backward. I can’t help but laugh as the hounds and souls resume the barrage upon the house. Eventually, something in the warding slips, cracks, and breaks.
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Source and Stone
I pushed a honey blonde curl from my face, watching the streets below and searching the skies as I waited for my early morning appointment to show. I could feel the sparks of magick contained within those beings connected to the Source who were flooding into the city. I had known when New Orleans sent out the first powerful beacon, its call nearly deafening me. Since then, the magickal population had increased daily, while those that were native to the area were edgy and irritable. New Orleans was calling her people home.
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