3 Jude
Jude was one day closer to going back to work.
He spent the day taking the kids to the aquarium along with Kaye.
Lizzie had been enchanted with the penguins, who swam after her when she ran back and forth along the glass.
Wolf had been a fan of the sharks, which hadn’t surprised Jude one bit.
He and his son had spent time during Christmas break watching animal documentaries.
Their favorites had been about predators; lions, tigers, bears, wolves, and sharks.
Now, he was settled into his seat at the convention center. This was the exact building Jude had been in several months back when possessed doll, Agatha Louise, had nearly killed three people on stage. He hoped this show wouldn’t end with him, Ronan, and Fitz giving people CPR.
Cope had gotten them tickets to see some famous psychic.
Everyone seemed excited, Everly especially.
It was no secret his niece was going to use her gift to help people when she was older.
All that was left to be determined was how?
Would she be a podcaster? An Instagram influencer?
Would she work side by side with Cope and Ten at West Side Magick?
Or would she go her own way just like Alistair Woolfe.
Before Cope told him about getting tickets to his show, Jude had never heard of the man.
According to his husband, he had a successful podcast, which landed him a guest spot on a night time talk show.
The brass had been so impressed with Alistair that they’d offered him the chance to host his own talk show when a country music diva decided to ditch her Hollywood life and go back to the country to raise kids, corn, and baby goats.
Jude had watched a couple of Alistair’s clips.
In between interviewing movie stars about their latest flicks, he read the audience and told their futures.
A new husband was around the corner for a divorced mother of three from Chicago.
A large windfall for a mother drowning in debt.
Twins for a woman who’d been trying to conceive for years.
To Jude, the show seemed manufactured, almost scripted, but the ratings were all that mattered.
Alistair’s had been so high that his show had been renewed for a second season.
“You ready for this?” Ronan asked from Jude’s left. Fitzgibbon sat on the other side of Ronan, looking bored enough to fall asleep at any second.
Jude nodded. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to be out at night.”
Ronan slapped Jude’s shoulder. “I feel you. Recuperating when it feels like the world has moved on without you isn’t easy. Add in a worrywart husband and it’s downright miserable.”
“Did Ten tell you Cope has been all over my ass?” Jude asked. He didn’t like that Cope was sharing details about their marriage, but on the other hand, Jude had been a bit of a dick lately and was sure his husband needed to vent.
“Cope didn’t say a word.” Ronan shook his head.
“I’ve been shot five times, remember? I was in a coma.
I’ve been stabbed and beat to hell among other things over the years.
Trust me, Ten is the man of my dreams, but when I’m the slightest bit hurt, he goes into tiger mom mode.
It’s nice at first, hot meals on demand.
Fresh sheets, sexy sponge baths, but then comes the worry that I shouldn’t be out of bed so soon or shouldn’t be driving or working or whatever.
I keep telling myself that Ten is worried because he loves me so much.
I can’t imagine surviving what I have without him by my side, even if he’s annoying as fuck on occasion. ”
“I heard that!” Ten called from the other end of the row. He and Cope were sitting on the other side of the kids, who were sandwiched between them.
Ronan made a heart with his hands and blew Ten a kiss. Ten shot him a discreet bird, using his middle finger to itch the side of his nose.
Jude didn’t need to be psychic to know there was going to be angry, make-up sex in Ronan’s future.
Maybe he should try something similar with Cope.
Gazing down the line, Jude could see his husband looked absolutely exhausted.
Maybe the key for getting back into Cope’s good graces was to do something for him, the way he’d been doing for Jude since his accident.
He was about to ponder options when the theater lights dimmed.
“This is gonna be so much fun, Uncle Jude!” Everly said from his side, linking her arm with his.
Jude grinned at his niece. He loved that she’d chosen the seat beside him, with Aurora in the middle, and Wolf on the other side next to Cope. “It sure is honey. Make sure you take notes on how to work the stage.”
“My stage is gonna have a dancing pole!” Everly said, before centering her attention on the curtains drawing open.
“Over my dead body,” Ronan muttered in Jude’s ear.
“Ladies and gentlemen, kids of all ages, I welcome you to One Night with Alistair.” A tall lanky man strode onto the stage. He was dressed in a glittering black tuxedo and matching top hat.
Jude couldn’t help but think the man looked like Abraham Lincoln’s super gay twin. He wasn’t bad looking with his grey eyes and easy smile, but there was something weird about him Jude couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Before we begin, I want to tell you how much the City of Salem means to me.” Alistair set a hand over his heart.
“My six times great grandmother, Amity Wellington, was born in this very city in 1671. Amity was a village healer and midwife. As a matter of fact, she delivered three children of famed Witch Trial Judge, Thatcher Webb. She’d been just about to deliver her own first child when disaster struck. ”
Jude gasped. He knew Thatcher Webb all too well. That son-of-a-bitch was the reason he’d ended up with three broken ribs as he tried to catch Cope who’d been about to swan dive off the upstairs railing at the judge’s house, with Webb urging Cope to jump.
“Amity was everyone’s friend. All she wanted to do was help her neighbors.
She was nine months pregnant, about to deliver another Wellington into the world, until one night in 1692 when a local magistrate showed up at her house with a warrant for her arrest. The charge was witchcraft.
She was tried and convicted by Thatcher Webb and sentenced to hang.
Thankfully, Amity’s death sentence had been suspended until she delivered her daughter, Verity. One week later, Amity was hanged.”
The audience gasped. Jude had a very bad feeling Hooke’s story wasn’t finished just yet.
“Twenty innocent lives were lost as a result of the Witch hunt. Nineteen of those executed swore up and down that they were not witches. The one accused witch who put up no protest was Amity. Why didn’t she protest her death sentence, you ask?
” Alistair paused, his eyes roving the audience.
“Amity didn’t proclaim her innocence, because she was in fact, not innocent. Amity Wellington was a witch.”
More gasps and several rounds of applause came up from the audience. Jude found himself applauding Amity’s strength and bravery.
“My psychic powers come from Amity herself. Not only was she a powerful witch, but could speak to the dead and see into the future.” Alistair gazed out over the crowd, a growing look of pride on his face.
“If she could see into the future, why didn’t Amity know she was about to be arrested and hanged?” a voice sneered from behind Jude.
“Her blood flows through my veins. I was given the greatest gift by my ancestor. A gift which I am now about to share with all of you.” Allistar clapped his hands together.
“Why don’t we jump in and get started.” Alistair closed his eyes and lifted his hand into the air as if he were about to conduct an orchestra.
“I’ve got a J name here with me. Jason, Jaxson, no, Jaxston.
” He opened his eyes to scan the crowd. “Does anyone connect with a man named Jaxston, who has brilliant green eyes?
A hand shot up two rows in front of Jude. “I do! I do!” A member of Alistair’s staff raced to the young woman who was wearing a red hoodie, and handed her a microphone.
“What’s your name?” Alistair asked, his grey eyes glittering.
“Samantha,” the woman answered, shaking as if her name had been called to be a contestant on The Price is Right.
“Jaxton was your father?”
Samanatha nodded, seemingly unable to speak.
“I’m having trouble breathing.” Alistair coughed, doubling over, gasping for breath, and gagging.
Jude was ready to bolt from his seat to help the psychic, when Alistair straightened, his face still red. “He passed from some lung ailment. I’m seeing cancer, but that’s not what killed him.”
“Dad had lung cancer when I was a kid and he had the lung removed. He never stopped smoking like his doctors told him to do. When COVID hit a few years ago, it took him.” Samantha buried her face in her hands.
“Jaxton believed the virus was a hoax and wouldn’t wear a mask or social distance?” Alistair asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.
“That’s right.” Samantha took a tissue out of her purse and dabbed her wet eyes. “Does my father have a message for me?”
Alistair set his hands against his temples.
“Yes! He’s telling you how much he loves you and your dog, Betty.
He’s sorry that he left his inheritance to NRA, when you had been so clearly struggling after your divorce and Betty needed surgery to remove the marbles she swallowed.
You shouldn’t have had to sell your blood to pay for the operation.
Jaxton says he should have spent more time with you, when your dick husband Marty left you for a stripper named Kandy Krush, using your life savings to get Kandy a boob job. ”
“Sweet Jesus,” Ronan whispered. “This is like an episode of Jerry Springer. Do you think Kandy’s gonna come out from behind the stage and start a brawl with Samantha?”
Jude laughed along with Ronan. He sort of hoped that would happen.
His life had been a bit dull lately being stuck at home and he wouldn’t mind being front and center when everything went to hell.
Everly’s hand squeezing his arm calmed Jude’s bloodlust. He turned to his niece, whose eyes were as big as dinner plates.
Shit, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring a seven year old to a show like this. “Are you okay, honey?”
Everly shook her head and covered her ears. She reached out to Aurora and motioned her forward.
Jude tapped Ronan’s shoulder and pointed to Everly, who’d slipped out of her seat and onto the floor, where she crouched with her head down, half-covering Aurora, which reminded Jude of the Duck and Cover film he watched in elementary school in Albuquerque, just in case there was an accident at Los Alamos.
He was about to reach down to help Everly back into her seat when multiple air horns began going off.
People dressed in black tactical gear began to march down the aisles toward the stage. They carried signs in front of them, which Jude couldn’t read at his angle. He turned to Cope who wore a stunned look on his face. Neither he nor Ten looked scared. “What the hell do we do?”
“Wait and see how it plays out,” Ronan shouted over the growing din of voices. “If we were in danger, Ten and Cope would be urging us to get out.”
Jude reached down and managed to scoop up his niece.
He settled her in Ronan’s lap. He held his hands over her ears, offering her more protection.
When he reached for Aurora, she practically jumped into Fitzgibbon’s arms. He motioned toward the exit and practically ran to get his daughter out of the theater.
The din in the theater began to grow. Other people began to get out of their seats, looking confused.
Should they leave the theater or stay and watch what was about to happen next.
As quickly as the air horn blasts started, they stopped. Jude’s ears were ringing from the sound. “Wolf, are you okay?” Jude asked.
The little boy nodded his head. “This is great, Daddy! We should come to the theater more often!” Wolf’s dark eyes glowed.
“FRAUD! FRAUD! FRAUD!” The people dressed in black began to chant.
Alistair looked shaken. His top hat had fallen off and he was gripping his hands together so hard, they’d turned white. “Can we get security in here please?”
The protestors turned from the stage to face the audience.
Samantha, the woman who Alistair had been reading before the interruption got out of her seat and ran toward them.
Shit, was she gonna start a fight with the instigators who’d interrupted her reading?
With Ronan sitting with Everly, there was no way for Jude to escape the aisle they were sitting in.
Samantha ripped off her red hoodie to reveal the same black shirt the others were wearing. She climbed up on the stage and took the microphone from Alistair, grabbing his arm and yanking him toward the edge of the stage. “This man is a fraud!”
“Prove it!” Someone shouted from the back of the room.
“My name isn’t Samantha. I don’t have a dead father named Jaxston. I’m a member of Debunked, We’re a group of people who work to expose psychic fraud. Everything you just read about me is fake. So was the Facebook page you took my information from! You’re a fraud! A conman! A grifter!”
Alistair yanked his arm back from Not Samantha. “How dare you question my gift!”
“This asshole gets his hands on the list of people who buy tickets to his events. He looks them up on Facebook to see what’s been posted online, then uses that information to trick people into thinking he’s really speaking to the dead.” Not Samantha sized Alistair up.
The man stood with his hands fisted at his sides and looked like he was about to take a swing. “I am not a fraud. My gift comes from Amity Wellington, Salem’s first witch.”
“Okay, then, read someone from the audience,” one of the Debunked team members shouted.
Jude watched in horror as Cope stuck his hand up and wiggled his fingers. He stood and stepped out into the aisle. “I volunteer, Mr. Hooke, read me.” Cope grinned as one of the event staff rushed to his side with a microphone.
What the fuck was Cope doing? This was quickly turning into a shit show. Was Cope going to try to help Alistair Hooke or was he going to pound the final nail into his coffin.
“You’re with them!” Hooke accused.
“He’s not with us. I’ve never seen this man before in my life.” Not Samantha said.
On the one hand, not knowing who Cope was meant he wasn’t on Debunked’s hit list. On the other hand, he was about to put the bullseye squarely on himself and possibly West Side Magick.
Shaking his head, Alistair took a deep breath. “No, I refuse to use my gift in this obvious coup.”
Cope’s smile widened. “Okay, well then allow me to use mine.” He turned to Jude and dropped a sexy wink before focusing his attention back on Allistair.
“First of all, your name isn’t Alistair Hooke, it’s Simon Jones.
Your mother is pretty angry at you for cremating her when she expressly wished to be buried in the family plot.
” Cope paused. “Damn, you spent your entire life pissing this woman off. You’re no more talented than my sister, Mistress Endora, who spent her life conning carnival crowds and fattening herself up on fried dough and the wallets of the men she slept with when the carnival closed for the night. ”
“Uncle Jude!” Everly grabbed Jude’s arm. “You need to stop Uncle Cope. Now!”
Jude didn’t think twice. He pointed to Ronan.
“Get the kids out of here.” He got out of his seat and made his way toward the opposite end of the row.
He stopped to tell Wolf to go with Ronan and then whispered to Tennyson to meet them out in the lobby before continuing toward Cope, who was still speaking.
“Well, hello, Endora, it’s nice to meet you!” Cope said, never taking his eyes off Alistair, who was wriggling on stage like a worm on a hook. “According to your dearly departed auntie, you didn’t call 911 when she had her suspicious heart attack.” Cope paused, his smug look turning to shock.
“Who the fuck are you!” Alistair Hooke demanded.
“Copeland Forbes, actual psychic medium and legacy witch from New Orleans Devereaux coven!” Cope crowed proudly.
Alistair’s mouth hung open as the crowd began to applaud Cope. He looked as if he had more to say about the issue, when Jude finally reached him. “Everly says we have to get the hell out of here.”
“I’m just warming up.” Cope grinned at his husband. “This asshole thinks he can come in here to our city and pull this fake psychic bullshit? Not on my watch.” Cope turned back to the stage, but thankfully, Alistair was gone.
“Let’s go. The kids are upset and I’m starving.” Jude couldn’t remember being this angry with his husband in a long time.
Cope looked as if he were about to argue, but instead nodded his head and reached for Jude’s hand.
Jude led his husband out of the theater.
As they walked back toward the exit, everyone who could reach him patted his shoulders, while others applauded him.
Cope had spent the last seven years building his reputation in Salem.
Jude just hoped that what happened here tonight wasn’t going to destroy everything his husband had worked so hard for.