7. Paul
Paul
Beyond a Shadow of a Doubt (Or an Assassin)
“A psychic, really? That’s so unlike you.”
If it was anyone else, I probably would have bristled at that, but I was just glad Jackson was sober enough to answer a video call. While it was only just evening on a weekday, that had never really stopped my youngest brother before. And admittedly, he now had a very good reason to get wasted.
“I needed to be sure of a few things.”
“Like what? You’re telling me this Gen-Z-looking chick was able to do that?”
He didn’t say it with derision, more curiosity, but I didn’t appreciate him talking about Cherry that way. Sure, I had been skeptical about it myself, but after seeing her abilities at work several times, she had more than earned my trust.
And that certainly wasn’t easy to do.
Ultimately, Cherry wasn’t just charming, she was also quite keen.
Sure, she expressed it far differently than most people I knew, but that didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
I would do well to remember that. We hadn’t even talked about money beyond me paying the higher deposit, and she was already going beyond the scope of what I’d expected.
“Her name is Miss Donmoue, and you will address her as such,” I said quickly.
“Actually, Cherry is just fine.”
“Cherry, really? Isn’t that more of a porn star name?”
Anger and, to my surprise, a flash of protectiveness rose up within me, which I had to contain rapidly. However, I was more than game to correct my youngest brother’s flippancy. Although he said nothing with malice, that didn’t stop his choice in words of being incredibly rude.
But the psychic answered before I could. “Stripper name, actually, but it’s short for Cheribelle. All of us eldest Donmoue children have had traditional Southern first names and have ever since our however-many-times great-grandmother immigrated here.”
“Cheribelle?” my brother repeated, smiling broadly. Nope, I didn’t like that expression either. “I have to admit, that’s a pretty great name. Sort of like classic ol’ glamour.”
“It’s got a ring to it,” Cherry said.
I frowned. I didn’t like that she was bantering with my brother as easily as she did with me.
Why does that matter? I asked myself.
“Well, apologies for doubting you, Miss Cheribelle Donmoue,” Jackson said, leaning into his video camera. “I am at your disposal.”
“You need to take this seriously,” I said. Jackson’s flirtatious slow blinking and smirking was not only making me a bit nauseous (who wanted to see their little brother try to seduce someone?) but it was also annoying me that he was refusing to see how important this was.
Our father and our brother were dead, murdered by someone who had no psychic energy whatsoever. While I was no oracle myself, I was certain that was both rare and dangerous, not something to be taken lightly.
“Come on, bro. You come to me saying there’s some brainless assassin?—”
“Psychic energy-less assassin,” Cherry corrected without missing a beat.
“—whatever. You’re telling me this assassin not only infiltrated our house, killed seven people, including dear ol’ Pops and big bro, but then also sawed through a beam because he magically knew I would be under it?
“I mean, couldn’t it just be a selkie? Or even a dryad? They don’t have minds like most of us sentients do.”
That was true, but I was surprised Jackson knew it. When Cherry had dropped her revelation, I’d wondered if it could be one of those, or an aberrant person who was magically resistant to leaving any sort of psychic echo. Or maybe even someone cursed? Blessed?
“It could also be a Leshy,” Cherry said. “Or some type of ancient vampire. Which is why I want to help. If I can eliminate ninety percent of suspects, it would greatly aid the detectives on the case.”
“Oh, is that all?” Jackson said with just enough sarcasm for Chris to snort in frustration, but Cherry continued like she hadn’t heard it at all. Who knew, maybe she hadn’t?
“That’s pretty much the long and the short of it,” Cherry said with a nod.
“I know it sounds insane,” I said. “And if I hadn’t witnessed her abilities several times, I probably wouldn’t believe it either. But we need to take this information to the police.”
I would never forget her walking through the office, moving almost like a banshee, compelled by things I could not see, and occasionally asking me questions in that deeper, raspier voice that was so different from her regular voice.
It was one of the most compelling things I had seen in a long while.
If she was so captivating, how had her mother been at the height of her power?
“Then take it to the police. Why are you calling me?”
“To hear your perspective on things, and check your energy signature,” Cherry said, still as unflappable as ever.
Honestly, I had to hand it to her. Jackson had a proven ability to distract people, whether with charm, irritation, or outright provocation, but Cherry was like a dog with a bone, determined to get what she was after.
I admired that.
“Check my energy signature? Like an anime? I don’t mean to question your craft, but...”
Cherry didn’t even blink. She tilted her head slightly and stared into the camera like she could look through my brother’s soul with it. And who knew? Maybe she could.
“I guess I’m just questioning it.”
“I always find it funny that fellow magical folks are the most suspicious of us oracles. Why do you take it as a matter of course that you can transform into a wolf and then return to human form with your clothes intact, but find it difficult that someone has clairvoyant tendencies?”
“She has a point, you know,” Christopher said, which was just about the last thing I expected from him, because even though my little brother was annoying the hell out of me, I understood his reticence to believe.
When we magical folks had come forward generations ago, it had started with a bit of a slow roll. First were shifters, then cryptids, then the witches and others who had much more religious prejudice against them. Oracles, fortune tellers, and soothsayers had been part of that final group.
So yes, psychics were a legitimate magical species, but there were so many pretenders that even magical folks doubted when someone claimed they had such abilities.
And although Ophelia had been popular enough to have her own magazine spread, her heyday had been in the time of our parents, and maybe Luther and Chris’s.
Jackson, who was more than a decade younger than Luther, wouldn’t have heard of her, so it was understandable that he’d doubt her legacy. For once, he was being rather sensible.
Too bad he’d chosen to be sensible at the most inconvenient time.
Why couldn’t he show such discernment when deciding which Instagram model to fly out to his penthouse?
That would save me so much time from having our legal department whip up yet another NDA so no embarrassing stories or photos were revealed later.
Maybe my brother needed therapy. We’d all been in it for a while after Mom died, and I definitely thought we should all go again to deal with what had just happened in our home, but I couldn’t help but think that maybe my youngest brother would benefit from a more hands-on CBT.
And by that, I meant cognitive behavioral therapy, not the type of CBT he got up to with the Instagram models.
Gross. That could be added to my ever-lengthening list of things I didn’t want to think about in context with any of my younger siblings. Or my older one at that.
“I mean, it’s a lot harder for humans to pretend to be a shifter than it is for them to pretend to be psychic.
Then there are the witches and other people who have also claimed to have abilities that they couldn’t,” Jackson said in a rather lovely tone, and I wondered, not for the first time, how much of his flippancy was an act rather than him being particularly unintelligent.
“Fair enough,” Cherry said. “But I’m not asking any money for this. So, if I’m a scammer, I’m a piss-poor one.”
“Or what you’re after isn’t money.”
Cherry opened her mouth as if she was going to shoot something right back, but she suddenly stiffened, her spine going ramrod straight.
I could smell the spike in her pheromones almost instantly: sulfur and acid with sharp notes of adrenaline.
“Jackson, you need to get out of your place and come here right now.”
Her tone wasn’t the low, possessed kind, but it was far more serious than I had heard her outside of a vision.
Of course, my little brother just chuckled. “Look, if you’d like to ask for my company, there are much less dramatic ways to?—”
Suddenly, Cherry ripped my phone out of my hand and put it close to her face. “ Jackson VanMarche, someone is in your apartment, and they mean to harm you. ”
Alarm shot through me. I shot to my feet and snatched my phone back. “Jackson! I don’t care if you think this is stupid, you get out of there right now! I’m sending extra security and you better call yours!” I looked at Chris. “Make sure whoever we have on call is headed there right now.”
“On it!”
“Guys,” Jackson said, still chuckling, but much more nervously than before. “Do you really think?—”
“Look, Jackie, maybe Cherry is lying to us and working a con, but there’s no way in hell I’m taking that risk.
Get out of there. And if security finds nothing, you have my permission to mock Chris and me from here to eternity, more than you already do.
But I’m not letting anything happen to you, do you understand me? ”
I didn’t realize it, but I was already halfway to the garage, my keys in hand. I couldn’t quite remember pulling them out of my pocket, but I was glad at my quick reaction.
Chris was already right behind me as I entered the car, on the phone and yelling at security. I glanced at my phone screen, pleased to see Jackson was grabbing his keys and portable charger to go.