Revealed

By JD Jones

Loren Blackledge is a witch. One of the three most powerful witches in the world, to be more precise. The other two being her cousins. Lifelong friends who have had each other's backs and always will, the three comprise the strongest power trio in the world. No one can stand against them. And someone just murdered Loren's husband. Was it personal, or were they trying to start a war?
Portia is trying to live down an episode of extreme witchcraft from her youth while Ginger is still running from a relationship with her parents. Loren is reevaluating her options in life, having just caught her husband with her man-crazy boss. On top of all that, the family reunion is predicated on the fact that Portia's older brother, her anchor to reality, has just been murdered. Rumors of a war brewing and personal feelings untethered, the three witches are laboring to hold the family together and keep their secret.
When Loren's husband is murdered the three go on the offensive, seeking out and tracking the murderer, assuming the two deaths are related. The natural police have their investigative tools, but they do not have Loren, Ginger and Portia. Nor do they have any clue of what they are up against. So, it's the three women against whoever this unseen enemy is.
Is it a rival in the business enterprises controlled by the witches? Is it someone from the secret underground witch's political machine? There's even the off chance that it's an organization trying to force the world of the witches out into public view so that lesser power witches can achieve more authority in the world of the naturals.
Loren, Ginger and Portia forge forward, following the clues, salving their wounds and holding each other up. Together they make a pact to solve this thing and bring order back to the world of witches without creating a war. But will their enemy let them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JD Jones
• Release date: Nov 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005947859

JD Jones

JD Jones now writes full time. As a minister, he and his wife of 30+ years spent their days working with at-risk youth. He has three children of his own who provide him with the source of his belief that he has succeeded. "The greatest pleasures in life are the simple things so many take for granted. All we can do in this life is make a lot of memories. Everything else is just so much stuff."

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Revealed

by J.D. Jones

Copyright © 2022, James D. Jones Jr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the express, written consent of the author for any purpose, other than the inclusion of brief quotations in review.

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Loren

Portia

and

Ginger

1

It was the Company Christmas Party. The night was clear and cold enough for one to see their breath when they breathed out. It was a perfect evening to stage a Christmas Party and every decoration was perfectly fitted to keep the party goers in the spirit of the season. Twinkling lights gave a seasonal glow to the area. Elaborate and obviously quite costly displays of seasonal frivolity stood everywhere to be admired and talked about. Beauty in every form imaginable and every theme related to the season took colors and lights to new heights of panoramic illusion. No mansion was ever more brilliantly displayed for such an occasion. The Klines had seen to that.

No snow had fallen yet this year. Though some of the revelers were bemoaning that fact, everyone knew there was no escaping the eventuality of the messy, white stuff interrupting life in the city at some point soon. New York always got hit with two or three good storms every year. It was like money in the bank. One could count on it.

The party atmosphere, inside and outside the exquisitely designed and totally gorgeous Kline Mansion was festive and even raucous to some degree. Holiday revelers were heard singing in every pitch and tone imaginable. Some were even singing the same song at times. Many were laughing at the funny things being said within their groups and others were shouting the praises of another year behind them and a new one to come. There was much alcoholic lubrication going on.

Toasts were being made and glasses and bottles being raised everywhere. Couples were stopping under the displays of mistletoe, placed plentifully throughout the mansion and sipping of the heavily spiked punch as well as all the other libations offered. The two activities were not as separate as one might think. There was a mysterious correlation between the amount of alcohol consumed and the number of visits to the mistletoe.

While some warmed themselves beside the many fireplaces conveniently lit in many of the downstairs rooms open to the party goers, others walked the festively bedazzled gardens of the grounds, enjoying the outside displays and sneaking moments alone with their favorite loved one.

This was the third annual Murray and Kline Christmas party to be hosted by Mrs. Kline herself at her home. The previous seven years of Christmas parties had been in hotel ballrooms. When Mrs. Kline opened up her home to the employees and clients of her agency, the party had taken on larger dimensions and greater attendance. No one missed the Kline Annual Christmas party if they had an invitation. The venue alone was worth the trip. When one added in the ranks of the elite they could rub shoulders with, it was the place to be on this night.

Half owner of the Murray-Kline Advertising Agency, Sharon Kline was married to Alfred Kline of the European Klines, a multi-billionaire family with a somewhat celebrated ancestry dating back to the early fifteen hundreds. Klines had been major bankers and investors with all the crowns and heads of state throughout Europe for centuries. Someone said that not a single war was fought in Europe in the last five hundred years that a Klines bank did not fund or support in some major way.

One entire room of the downstairs was dedicated to portraits of the family, which adorned all the walls of the large and very ornately decorated room. It was not part of the party venue for the evening, nothing festively decorated in that room, but its doors were open and many wandered in for a look or maybe to steal a kiss from their love interest.

The average visitor to the room either felt the awesome power of the family lineage or a deep, creeping sensation of something gaining on them in the dark. Such is the nature of family histories no matter what the family or how prestigious their lineage. The newer generations invariably look back on the older generations with some sensation of scorn or plain old dismissal.

The huge grandfather clock in the foyer had just struck eleven and Loren Blackledge was ready to leave. Almost. First she needed to find her husband in all this crowd and then their coats, which Norman, the Kline's always smiling and helpful butler, had taken upstairs to a spare bedroom and arranged on a bed, so guests could find them easily when they wanted to make their exit. He had just given her this information and directions to the bedroom in question.

Sweeping her long, blond hair behind her shoulders, Loren brushed a stray strand of hair from her pretty face and set out about finding her husband in this crowd of people. She strutted self consciously when she walked because of the high heels she wore. They were not her usual footwear but Troy liked them. He said it made her legs longer and sexier. She liked it when Troy liked something.

Loren was the Southeast Account Director for Murray and Kline. Everything from the state of Tennessee south and east of the Mississippi was her territory and her people covered it well. Last year alone, they had posted the equivalent of a thirty five percent increase in overall business and seventeen percent of that was new business. It had been a very good year and she was Mrs. Kline's golden girl at the moment. Rumor was that Loren Blackledge could do whatever she wanted right now. Her decisions were gold. Those were Mrs. Kline's words to whoever was listening.

There were four directors at Murray and Kline. They all worked directly for Mrs. Kline. Their jobs were to direct the personnel assigned them within their given territory and carry out the company motto. Sell Everything But Sell Murray And Kline First. Reputation was their gold ring and everyone grabbed a hold and held on for dear life. Mrs. Kline would have it no other way.

Mrs. Kline was a good boss, as bosses go. Having risen through the ranks of an advertising agency only ten years ago herself, before she started Murray and Kline, Sharon Kline was the kind of woman who led her people as she wanted to be led. Her relationship with all her directors was cordial and even friendly at times. She was a very personable woman and quite a dynamo in her own right. She got things done and surrounded herself with others who did likewise.

Forty five and head of one of New York's finest advertising agencies, she worked out three times a week and made sure she kept up with the latest fashions, even if only to know what she was not wearing this season. She was a beautiful woman, if not a little settled in her appearance. Dark hair, dark eyes and a dark sense of humor made her a treasure to be in company with.

She weighed forty pounds more now than she did when she graduated college and she assessed all that extra as being firmly wrapped up in her hips, which it amused her to think that she once counted as too skinny. Careful what one wished for. Fashion magazines called her curvy and beautiful but she felt out of shape and had no idea how to make the extra weight go away. Instead, she lived with it and accentuated her finer points, making her a perennial favorite for New York's most beautiful women list.

The other half of Murray and Kline, Gordon Murray, was something of a mystery to everyone. Everyone except Mrs. Kline perhaps. He kept odd hours, coming and going mostly when the offices were closed. Some whispered he was a recluse who did not like being in public much. Others claimed he was some underworld figure and had to keep a low profile. Loren just assumed he was rich enough he could do whatever he wanted and, having funded Mrs. Kline's business idea, he came and went and did what he liked with his time. She just couldn't explain why Mrs. Kline would have sought an investor outside of her sinfully loaded husband.

Wandering through the party guests, inside and outside, Loren Blackledge had personally witnessed no less that seven of her co-workers, people she knew and talked to on a regular basis, kissing and hugging with people she was positive were not their spouses. She was no prude, by any means, nor did she judge others for such behavior. Their lives were their own. She just noticed things. That's all.

Using her right hand, she slipped her shoulder length blond hair behind her ear, giving her a view that was not blocked by the hair that framed her face. Parted in the middle, it was a one time bob cut that she had let grow out, not wanting to look like a little girl when she arrived for a business meeting. She had visions of maybe letting it grow longer, maybe down her back like she had once worn it back when she met her husband.

A few times she stood and stretched up on tip toes to see over the crowds of people. Her five foot seven frame, made five foot ten in her three inch heels, was both shapely and sexy in her black evening dress. She only gained about an inch on her tip toes. But she was searching in earnest and every little thing helped. She had a good view of the rooms she traversed but still some of the crowds were taller than she was. Was her husband hidden among the crowds? Her husband. Where had that man gotten to?

Truthfully, to her own sadness, the cheating she witnessed in the open did not necessarily shock her any more. She did wonder about New York's Christmas spirit amongst all these cheating spouses, though. It had to have a negative effect on the season. Didn't it? Santa never cheated on Mrs. Claus, did he? She giggled at her own silliness as she wandered the party grounds. Maybe he did. After all, not all those houses he visited had children. Some had single women in them. Alone. Who really knew all that went on Christmas Eve? New York's cynicism was rubbing of on her.

Business as usual in the big city, she sighed as she watched one of the mail runners being wrangled under the mistletoe by one of the secretaries. They were both married to other people. She continued her search for her husband amongst all the party goers. Unfortunately, infidelity among spouses was part of the endless city game that she had never learned to play. Being a small town, southern girl at heart, family and fidelity were taught to her from a young age by example.

The big city attitude towards spousal fidelity was far short of the marital commitment-for-all-time she had grown up knowing. Her parents had been married for almost fifty years and looking forward to many more. She and her sisters had already started planning that fiftieth wedding anniversary party. It would take a couple years to organize it all and make it the event her parents deserved it to be. It was expected in their circle of friends.

Her associates and friends from the advertising agency were drinking and making merry all around her as she made her rounds through the crowd. Many pulled at her arm as she passed or asked her to join them. Some of the men, feeling their drink, gave her more suggestive looks, which she ignored. All Loren wanted to do was find the exit but first she had to find her husband. She was starting to wonder where she had passed him up. She'd been all the way around twice. Surely, she had passed him by in one of these cliques of people. She blew a sigh of frustration. Not anger. Just a desire to be on her way. She had other urges besides hanging around at this party.

Loren's thoughts were on getting her husband, Troy, home and giving him a little Christmas cheer of her own. It had been a long week and she had missed him because she had been doing some last minute traveling for work. On top of that, all these cheating spouses had aroused a little of the, ah-hem! Christmas spirit in her. She wanted to get him home and see if she couldn't arouse his Christmas spirit.

She wanted to satisfy that little spirit in herself. Getting her husband home before he turned into a pumpkin was part of her plan. It amused her to call her sexual desires different things to suit the moment. Sex was always a fantasy to her. That moment when two people shared an escape away from ordinary life and made themselves part of the extraordinary. She envisioned all the ways she could satisfy both her spirit and her husband's as she made her way to the bedroom upstairs. Might as well at least get the coats, she reasoned. Be that much more ahead of the game when she found him.

Did Norman say the first or the second door on the right? she asked herself as she topped the stairs and entered the huge and gloriously appointed upper hallway.

Gold might be rare someplace but it was not rare here. Golden candlesticks and huge gilded ornaments decorated the tables and walls of the ornately wooded hallway. A tree at the farthest end glowed with real candles on it. No expense spared here. Was that a three foot high nativity nestled in the balcony alcove? In gold? Even with Loren's sometimes extravagant upbringing, she had never witnessed the pure excesses of the Kline's money.

She chose the first bedroom on the right since it was first, thinking that she should have found her husband first and then brought him up here for some discreet necking before going home for the main course of their Christmas feast. She recognized that her desire for her husband was turning into a need really fast. They had to make their getaway soon. Before he got drunk and could not rise to the occasion. That would ruin everything for her.

The thought of getting him home and what she was wanting to do with him brought a giggle to her heart and lips. Everyone had their Christmas wishes and she wanted to get home and unwrap this one for herself. She opened the door into the darkened room and stepped inside. There was a light somewhere inside the room. The entryway was dark and her eyes took time to adjust from the brightness of the hallway. She walked further into the room, seeking the bed with the coats laid out on them.

As her own giggles ended she thought she heard them continue. No. Not her giggles. Someone else was giggling.

M-m-m-m-m. That feels wonderful, Love, giggled a woman's voice.

She knew that voice.

You like that, do you? A man's voice.

She knew that voice, too.

With her interest now peaked, Loren rounded the corner of the entryway into the room and saw the figures behind the bed clearly in the light of the bedside lamp they were using to illuminate their activity. A man and a woman bent over the bed in what was obviously a position of mutual enjoyment for them.

Knowing she was moving toward something that sounded familiar, she was still unprepared for what her mind had already calculated as the truth she was hearing. She stepped with purposeful strides and held herself in stoic readiness. Horror. Dumbfounded horror. Stupefaction. Pure, unadulterated paralysis of all common sense and reality. Loren stared at the couple on the other side of the bed.

The woman's dress was up above her hips and the man's pants were down below Loren's line of sight, behind the mattress. His position was one of command, pressing directly against her rather pasty backside in what was probably an attempt to hide his contribution to this activity. Loren could imagine where he was hiding it, too.

The woman's position was more sensual, more comfortable, a leaning posture, hands supported by the mattress on the bed, legs slightly spread for him in that age old stance of comfort and offering. The scene itself was evidence of their activity even if Loren had not viewed his gyrating and thrusting hips and heard his flesh slapping rhythmically against hers as both grunted, moaned and giggled their pleasures.

The movement of Loren around the corner caught the couple's eye and brought all their activity to a screeching halt. Caught! Risk realized. Privacy invaded.

Oh shit! Sharon Kline uttered her invective and stood up as much as her partner's intimate proximity allowed.

What the f---? Loren's husband stood up and ceased his thrusting motion in mid thrust, keeping himself tight against his partner's soft flesh, thus keeping her from standing up to her full height, slightly bent over the bed, still.

Loren! Sharon called out her prized employee's name. Her shock at being discovered evident in both her voice and manner. Shame being another ingredient Loren could hear creeping in.

Honey, Troy dared call to his wife after being caught inside another woman, enjoying her pleasures. It was a cry of surprise and shame and pleading forgiveness all in one. He always was good with his emotions.

Loren just stared. Her stare held them in place. Everyone was afraid to move and break the peace that currently reigned over the room. It was more than tension. It was understanding.

Loren was understanding what she was seeing. Her husband and her boss had snuck away from the party to engage one another in a quickie. Sharon was understanding what Loren was feeling. One woman to another, they never wanted to be on either side of this equation. Though Sharon was often in such company with men who were not her husband, being caught at it by the man's wife was never part of the plan. At the moment their mutual shame was a two way street. Troy was simply understanding that he had messed up big time for the sake of a little sensual satisfaction.

I can explain, Troy started to speak. He was still firmly embedded in her boss' backside which kind of nullified his explanation, whatever it was.

Loren held up a hand to stop his voice from assaulting her ears any further. He quit. Immediately. She could not speak. There was nothing to say if she could. There was no place for this in her list of experiences. This was not in her Marriage Dream Manual. Girls didn't write about this in their diaries growing up. Their men were always knights on white chargers, rescuing them and whisking them off to romantic places. The dreams never included catching the knights in another damsel's room with her dress lifted obscenely above her hips.

Troy shuffled out from behind Sharon's ample backside to get Loren to listen to him. He realized his mistake immediately. In the dim lamp light, his wet, glistening manhood only added to the obscenity of what he was doing. He stopped suddenly and it bobbed and swayed, displaying his own arousal level in full regalia for all to see. If Loren still had any doubts as to what they were doing, they were gone now. Vanquished with her sense of security and well being that were tied up once upon a time in the sanctity of her marriage. A sanctity her husband obviously did not honor.

Sharon stood more erect as her illicit partner pulled himself from their union. Her dress did not fall back into place as she had expected it to. It caught on her too wide hips and gave Loren an all too telling view of her boss' perfectly shaved, triangle shaped patch above her puffy womanhood. To add to the sexual atmosphere, as if it needed any addition, the light from the lamp behind her on the end table created a silhouette between her slightly parted legs, sparkling in the glistening moisture still evident on her bared privates. Quickly, Sharon pushed at her dress, forcing it down over her hips, covering her rather sensuous if maybe too full figured curves.

The scene itself played like a comedy across Loren's mind. More correctly, it played more like one of those poorly made porn movies that made people giggle because no one ever did sex that way or in such outlandish locations with such trumped up situations. Like at the Company Christmas Party with the Company owner who was starved for sex. It could not be real. It had to be make believe. Only actors played out parts like these. Good, normal people did not play these parts. Did they? They only watched them on TV.

Loren saw it all in the grotesque and shadowy vision of the dim light within which they stood. Only darkness could birth such scenes, she reasoned. Only darkness allowed such things to exist. The darkness belonged here. She did not. Troy did not. Sharon did not. How could they be here? What trick of impropriety drew them here for this moment?

Neither could Loren believe all that she could take in and catalog in her mind's eye with such a quick view of the scene. Naked, thrusting bodies receiving one another, absorbing one anothers darkness, full of the deceit birthed in minds full of unsatisfied experiences. Their forms. Their essences. How they were sharing one another in stolen moments of bliss and satisfaction, not the least mindful of their illicit deed or its far reaching effect. Her husband, sharing himself with her boss who was partaking of that which did not belong to her. Yet, in it all, nothing was stolen. Her boss could not steal that which her husband was giving away.

Betrayal.

Loren was amazed at how seeing the way her life was disintegrating before her eyes made her visual clarity perfect and her understanding totally undesirable. This counterfeit couple were so absorbed in satisfying their own urges, neither of them understood what they were taking from her, the original one with whom he deposited his love. They probably told themselves that what they were taking from each other was their own.

Was it possible that Troy did not know it was hers? Was it conceivable in any degree that Sharon did not perceive that what she was taking did not belong to her? Did her boss not recognize that what she was so joyfully receiving a few seconds ago belonged to her employee? Where was the ethical standard there? She was sure there was some kind of woman to woman thing being violated here.

Suddenly, she noticed there were no coats on the bed. The realization hit her with a hilarious and strange amusement. No coats on the bed, just Sharon's discarded panties. Thongs? Really? At her age? The only things she could see were her half naked, fully aroused husband and her pantyless boss.

Loren still could not speak, so unutterable were her thoughts. But she could smile. Not a friendly, glad-to-see-you-enjoying-my-husband smile. But a sad smile of realization. Life had just changed drastically. Her life. Troy's life. Sharon's life. For one stolen moment of their own search for bliss, they had turned the world upside down for Loren. Maybe their world had already been changed by something. Possibly it was only her world that had just changed. Loren Blackledge! Please come to your senses and see the world how it really is.

She let out a small giggle of her own. Not humorous. Nervous. Knowing.

It must have been the second door she was supposed to enter. She could not help but think this was all her fault. If she had not come in the wrong door, she would never have had to know about this. Her mistake had revealed their deceit. Her wrong turn had brought her into their darkness and shed her light on their shadowy deed.

What a mistake.

2

Harrison, the McClellan's butler, answered the door and showed the visitors to the front sitting room. McClellan Hall was a huge, old, pre Civil War plantation house. Complete with white marble columns and a very expansive set of front steps leading up to the main floor, the house itself was the very picture of southern living. The McClellan's had owned it before the War Between the States and continued to thrive on it well afterward.

Harrison made sure the visitors were seated and did not require anything of him before taking his leave and announcing their presence to the house manager as he had been instructed. Harrison always did as he was instructed. Anything less would be cause for dismissal as well as a blight on his record, which he could not abide. His family had been serving the McClellans for well over a hundred years. Pictures of his ancestors in their various roles lined the back hallway where the servant's gallery was maintained. He would never dishonor their lives.

Tawny Jackson took the information from Harrison at her usual place behind her desk in the back office that had been made available to her. She had occupied that desk since before the new ones had taken over. Matter of fact, she had occupied her position as house manager long before the new one's mother and father had taken over. No one knew more about running this house than Tawny. And she took great pride in her position.

She walked purposefully down the back hallway and made her way to a side hall where she turned left into the main rooms of the east wing of the old mansion. This was the living quarters area for the new ones. She called them that since they had only taken over the place ten years ago. They were still getting the hang of managing the place and keeping up with all its different facets of life and business. They might be the owners but only an idiot would think this place ran because of them. Sometimes it ran despite them. It took about fifteen years for new ones to get the hang of all that went on around McClellan Hall and its businesses.

She knocked quietly but firmly on the large oak door to the library. Daniel McClellan preferred to do his daily work from there. The much smaller office in the west wing that his father had used was not good enough for him. He wanted more space. More windows. Truth was, she didn't blame him. His father's office had always seemed cramped and cluttered to her. The library was much better suited to the size of the empire the new ones had to manage. Brighter, too. The full wall of windows made that possible.

Come in.

Daniel looked up to see Tawny already walking through the door. Her knock was only a perfunctory action of politeness. Her job was to get things done and standing out in the hallway was not accomplishing anything. At times he wondered if he worked for her.

Visitors, Sir, Tawny announced, stopping exactly five feet inside the room.

Daniel waited.

Lieutenant Governor Round and his aide, Mr. Nixon. Tawny said the words like she had eaten a sour apple.

No one in the McClellan household had much use for Lieutenant Governor Round or his aide and chief sidekick, Mr. Nixon. The feud between Ayn Round and Daniel McClellan was well known anywhere in the underground. It had spread into the natural world when Ayn ran for political office in the state. He had sought McClellan's support which he expected simply because of their shared secret. When Daniel refused to support Ayn in any way, their general animosity had exploded into a full bore dislike of each other.

In the sitting room, I presume.

Tawny nodded, yes. Daniel rose from his large leather chair, shuffling the papers he was reading back into their manilla folder and placing it in the wire frame file holder on the corner of his desk. Daniel was a very organized man if nothing else. A place for everything and everything in its place.

He smoothed his jacket and buttoned the lower button. He checked his visage in the full length mirror he kept near his desk for just such a reason as this. His black hair was in place and the suit accentuated his six foot frame nicely. He was the perfect vision of the young, energetic businessman of the day and he wanted it to seem exactly that way to all visitors. Even ones he did not like.

Tawny waited on her employer to finish his ritual before leaving his office. A glance around the desk and the room to ensure he had put everything away properly. All was well. Then he walked around the desk and approached Tawny at the door.

Daniel preferred she lead him where as his father had always insisted she walked behind him. Made no never mind to Tawny. She was here to serve and run the household. She could hear his footfalls as he padded down the hall behind her. His soft soled multicolored boat shoes didn't clatter along the wooden floors like his father's crisp soled, always black and well shined, shoes had done. There were so many differences between them she often wondered if they were really related. Maybe Daniel's mother had fooled around with the mailman or something.

Tawny opened the door and led the way into the room for her employer as he wished. The seated men stood as they entered. Both were southern gentlemen so she could not be sure if they stood because a lady had entered the room or if they stood in deference to Daniel. Didn't matter. Just something she thought about sometimes.

Mr. McClellan, Ayn Round gave his best politician's smile to his host.

Governor Round, Daniel responded and reached out to shake the proffered hand. Politeness.

He also shook Errol Nixon's hand. It was hardly possible to shake one without the other, Daniel noted, since they were practically joined at the hip. He was not sure if that was because Ayn needed Errol so much or if Errol's father needed someone close to Ayn all the time. It was a dicey political situation Daniel was glad he did not have to deal with. Errol's father was not a man that Daniel enjoyed dealing with.

Please, sit down, Daniel offered them their seats back. He watched Tawny make her exit, closing the door behind her. He knew she would be sending Harrison to stand outside the door in case he needed him. Tawny really did run this place better than he could.

They sat and Daniel chose a comfortable chair on the other side of the coffee table, facing them both. Now that sides had been chosen, they could get down to more serious matters. He did not offer them coffee or any other refreshment. These were not that kind of visitors and Daniel wanted them to know he knew it. In the south, offering some kind of refreshment would have been expected. Due to their mostly antagonistic relationship, Daniel hoped his not offering would also be expected. They didn't seem to notice.

We've come on a somewhat sticky matter, Ayn opened the conversation.

Usually is, where you're concerned, Daniel smiled in a friendly way.

Your dealings with Maxim Exports is blocking a deal for Outdoor Limited. Ayn continued, ignoring the jibe.

So? Daniel held his smile. He knew where this was going. Outdoor Limited was one of the companies controlled by Errol's father who was also one of Ayn's biggest supporters. Daniel had made a bid to purchase Maxim Exports as a way of blocking competition from Outdoor Limited. A move that surely had the elder Nixon in a quandary of how to continue.

We'd like you to relinquish your interests in Maxim Exports. Ayn looked like any other businessman at that moment. Proposing a deal and hoping for the best.

Why would I want to do that? Daniel was amused by this little politician.

Two reasons, Ayn began. One, it would be the prudent thing to do to maintain the relationship between the Nixons and the McClellans. We can't have two of our largest and oldest families fighting now. Can we? The second reason is far more practical. I am the Governor of the underground movement and I am asking you to do this for the movement itself. We need the resources your deal is blocking to continue our work.

Daniel lost the smile.

I'll answer your Two Things, Daniel stared down the two men before him. "One. I don't care whether relations between the Nixons and McClellans is good or bad. We're competitors. A situation, I might add, that Elton created two years ago when he entered into a business that has always been left alone to my family. So, don't come in here like you're trying to get me to listen to reason. March your self righteous ass over to Elton's house and get him to listen to reason. I'll do what I have to do to protect my interests and my family's business. You know I will.

Two, you might be the leader of the Underground for the East Coast, but that gives you no right to play games and seek favors to advance the interests of those that support you and your efforts. You of all people know where I stand on the issue. We've done well keeping our secret for hundreds of years and the only reason you want to come out now is so that friends of yours can make even more money than they already are. It's a purely selfish game you're playing and I'll thank you to leave me out of it.

So, you're not going to do as we ask? Ayn made his side clear.

Not in the least. Daniel put the smile back on his face. He enjoyed telling them his mind. Ayn might be the Underground Governor but he was still a minor warlock and a very insignificant part of Daniel's life. The power bestowed on Ayn's position was very ceremonial.

What if I was to force you? I am the Underground Governor, after all. Ayn suggested he was not above a little arm twisting.

Listen, Ayn, Daniel sighed. We both know that you have no one – NO ONE – that supports you who is even near as powerful as my sister. How do you think this thing will go if you do anything to me or to us? One word from me and she would level this world for me. You do know that? Don't you?

I was not suggesting physical force, Ayn smiled. There are other ways to manipulate things.

Let me make this plain for you, Ayn. If I find that you or anyone who even knows you has done anything against me or my family's interests, I am going to tell my sister about it in such a way that she will understand you are a threat and you know how she deals with threats. Don't you?

She's an unstable woman, Ayn rebuffed.

No, Daniel countered. She's a loyal and committed sister who loves her brother and all the things her brother loves. Just see that you don't become a danger to her and the things she loves. And, now that I know for sure that you are part of Elton's business deals, I will thank you to back off from any and all roadblocks you've thrown up for my deal with Maxim. If you don't, I'm going to take that as interference and my sister is not going to like that.

Well – uh - we'll see about that, Ayn hesitated. You're trying to start a war, here.

No, Ayn. Elton and you are starting the war. He is the one who is moving in on territory the Council has always left open to my family. You know how this will go if it becomes a matter for the Council to handle. We all know, Daniel looked right at Errol. Tell your father to back off or else. He's so greedy and money hungry that he's even willing to destroy hundreds of years of tradition to get more for himself. Well, I'm not going to let him run over me or my family. Make sure he understands that.

Errol nodded his assent. What else could he do? This was not his fight.

The strongest warlock you have in your family is your Uncle Persius, if I'm not mistaken, Daniel continued his threats. How do you think your family would survive an attack from my sister?

Daniel's point was clear. The damage that Portia McClellan could do was legendary. The authorities had attributed it to a tornado that day but those from the Underground knew the truth. Half a town wiped out because she was angry with a man who had tried to rape her. She had been only fifteen then. She was a much stronger witch now.

That man's family, all his loved ones, lived on the side of town that the tornado had torn through. Out of a clear, blue sky, a tornado had arisen and struck at citizens, destroyed buildings and tore up entire roadways, hunting down every place the man's family lived.

Seven people had been killed that day. Every one of them had been related to that man. Blood relatives. Male, blood relatives, to be exact. Not a single innocent bystander had been injured. People still talked about it like it was some retribution from God. Those of the Underground knew it had not been God but Portia.

The man had been made to watch as she destroyed his family. He had tried to destroy her life and now, she had destroyed his. It was too much for the man to endure. He went crazy with the destruction of his family. Certifiable. Lived in the state hospital and told strange stories of magic and sorcery beyond anyone's imagination, now.

Everyone knew the tale of Portia McClellan and her legendary strength. Everyone within the community at least. Daniel's threats reminded them of his sister's power. Very few witches could control the weather. That kind of strength was not only impressive but scary. And Portia's control was absolute. She'd been tested after the incident by the Council, who were afraid she was out of control. She had demonstrated such finite control to them that even the Council deferred to her, now. It was widely voiced that no stronger witch lived.

There's no need for threats, here, Ayn tried to diffuse the tension between Errol and Daniel.

Isn't that why you came? Daniel countered. You expected me to lay down my family's interests so you could give them away to your buddy and pal, Elton Nixon. Isn't that so?

I was only trying to reach an agreement between you two so that any disagreeable actions would be minimized. Ayn pleaded his cause.

Well, tell him they'll be no disagreeable actions if he backs off. I don't mind competition on a natural basis. Hell, that's part of the game. But if I sense any magic or spells being woven or if you try and muscle me into something I don't want in any way, I will not sit helplessly by. I do not care about Council mandates or your position as our leader. Anyone that tries to take what has always belonged to my family will meet with sure and deadly resistance.

Daniel stated his case as simply as he could. The two visitors just sat where they were. They were at an impasse.

Even though the business, by tradition, did belong to the McClellan family, it was a very small part of their holdings and Ayn did not see the problem. Elton Nixon had promised the proceeds of the new business he was creating would go to the movement to bring the world of the witches into the natural world as legitimate citizens. The movement badly needed the money for its next phase. Political exercise.

You're not understanding our side, Ayn would not let go. He was a bulldog if nothing else.

I understand that you want to take something away from me that has belonged to our family for a long time, Daniel answered and smiled.

But Elton Nixon is going to support our Witches Coming Out with this new venture he is putting together. Surely you do not want to get in the way of that. Ayn looked pleadingly at his host.

"Ayn, I've told you before. I'm not a supporter. I didn't even vote for you for the state's Lieutenant Governor's position. I didn't like the other guy, either, but I voted for him because I like you less. The fact you don't get that is part of your problem.

"I don't care that we're both witches. It's not us against them. That's the kind of thinking that has kept us in hiding forever. But it will never be you and I on the same team. You've got the spine of a jellyfish. You go wherever the wind blows. Whoever has the most power next time will own you then. You never do what is right. You always do what will benefit Ayn Round the most.

"The Council may have appointed you Governor of our Underground for the East Coast but that's only because your father had the position and his father before him. Don't let it go to your head. You've not earned anything and you've done even less since taking the position.

Tell you what, Daniel had a flash of insight. I'll give up the export business to Elton. You know, part of my family's tradition, if you give up your family's tradition of being Governor. How's that? Show me you don't mind stepping back from what's been in your family and I'll follow suit. Sound fair?

Daniel's smile was purely antagonistic, now. Everyone knew that Ayn treated his position as who he was. That was why he was here. No witch or warlock in their right mind would expect one of them to give up part of what was allocated to their family by the Council. That was how they made their living in the natural world without competing directly with each other, which could have some dire consequences if they battled it out.

That was the point Daniel was trying to make. Ayn was not in his right mind. Power and greed made him crazy and unstable. He thought being the Underground Governor as well as the state's Lieutenant Governor gave him some kind of special power over everyone. Daniel despised the man and all he stood for, which changed constantly.

I can see we're going to get nowhere here, Ayn stood to make his leave.

Daniel stood out of politeness, which had been trained into him from a young age. He did not offer to shake hands as the two exited the room. Harrison was outside the room as he had expected and led them back to the front door where he saw them off to their car.

From the back of the sitting room a small chair shimmered and glowed quickly and then revealed a woman sitting in it. Portia had been listening at the back of the room. She often made herself invisible, a feat she had mastered in elementary school. She'd taught it to Daniel but he did not use magic much, except for his business deals. For those, he would weave whatever spell was necessary to accomplish the tasks necessary for the safety and success of the family.

You were kind of rude to them, Portia commented. No reproof. Just an observation.

They deserved worse, Daniel smiled at her and hugged her as she moved close. She hugged him back. It was more than a sisterly hug. She kissed his cheek and stepped back. He was the family's protector.

Could you sense me back there? she asked.

I could sense you somewhere. Didn't know where, though.

Good. I'm getting better at hiding my whereabouts from those that can discern. She seemed happy enough.

Would you really ask me to do something to those men if you didn't get your way? she asked concerning his threat toward Nixon's father.

He looked curiously at her. She was such a wonderful creature. Even at forty years of age she was still part girl and part woman and so curious about the world. He smiled at her warmly and shook his head.

They are like the others. They've heard the stories and they believe the rumors. I just used it all to make them think twice about attacking us in any real fashion. Hopefully, it will be enough.

I don't mind, she smiled back at him. If you need me to do something, I don't mind. You do everything for me and I hardly ever get to repay you.

Just you being you is enough, Daniel told her. Seeing you smile and enjoy life is all the repayment I need. Sometimes people like them try to make life harder than it needs to be, but we have to rise above it and go on, enjoying life despite them.

They're just trying to make us legitimate in the natural world, Portia repeated the line the movement had been trying to get everyone to buy into.

We don't need to be legitimate as they define it. Daniel was not ready to change the way they had lived for centuries just to satisfy the whims and greed of men like Ayn Round. Especially not Ayn Round. They only want a reason to break Council traditions and make themselves leaders of things that will make them more money and give them more political power. What they are proposing is to change the way we live. They know they have no real magical power, so they want to create a system whereby they can wield another power, a political and monetary power. They're seeking to do away with our centuries old system and replace it with one that lets them be in charge. I'm not for that in any way. I like things the way they are.

I love our life, Portia giggled. No one tells us what to do or how to do it.

Exactly, Daniel hugged her again. She felt warm and giggly against his chest. We're all we need, he told her and she snuggled her face in his chest.

3

Loren Blackledge arrived at work on Monday morning to double bouquets of flowers. She had not seen her husband since catching him with his pants down, literally, at the company Christmas party. One of the bouquets was from him. The other was from her boss, Sharon Kline.

Her husband's bouquet was to say how sorry he was for cheating on her like that and causing her to walk in on such a scene. Her boss' bouquet was a thank you for not making a scene at the party and exiting the place without a word about it to any one. Everyone knew that Sharon fooled around on her rather stuffy and provincial husband. Loren believed Sharon was the only one who did not know that. Therefore, she counted it a good thing that Loren had not made a scene at her party.

She asked her secretary to throw both of them in the trash at the end of the hallway.

She also asked her secretary to cancel all her morning appointments. She had some important work to do and did not want to be disturbed. She took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack in the corner. No sooner did she get it hung up than a knock sounded on her door.

So, it would begin. Loren smiled to herself, smoothed her skirt and pulled her tight fitting jacket down into proper position. She didn't have time to check her shoulder length blond hair or her make up but she had just come from home. How bad could they be? The day had just started.

Come in, Loren acknowledged the knock, slipping her hair behind her ear with her right hand.

Safe to enter? Sharon's head peeked around the edge of the door.

Safe enough, Loren announced and motioned to a chair in front of her desk.

Would you bring us coffee, please? Sharon asked Loren's secretary with the door wide open. The woman stood close behind Sharon who had used her position as boss to circumvent the normal process of being announced by the secretary.

Right away, Ma'am, came the answer as Sharon sat down in the offered chair. The secretary pulled the office door closed as she left to retrieve the asked for coffee, glad to be of service after not being able to stop the intrusion by the owner of the company.

Did you get the flowers? Sharon asked, looking around the room for them.

Yes, Loren answered simply. No details.

Hesitation. Awkward moment as Sharon got to think about the answer and its meaning.

I see, Sharon sighed, not seeing the flowers in evidence. She could guess as to where they went.

Not going to make this easy for me. Are you? Sharon tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace.

Why should I? Loren smiled sweetly, knowing she held the upper hand in this instance.

Troy is devastated by this, too, Sharon acknowledged. We talked this weekend and he made it plain to me that he only loves you and never meant for this to hurt you like it has. We're both heartily sorry about it all. I want you to know that.

So, Sharon was in contact with her husband over the weekend. Interesting. She wondered if they spent some time alone at whatever hotel he checked into. Was she revealing pillow talk? Did he open up about this great love he had for her while he was banging his wife's boss again? Loren could picture her husband telling Sharon how much he loved his wife as he pounded himself into her again and again. Kind of a like a song with a strange rhythm set up by their mutual joining. Was there something wrong with her that she could actually picture such a thing?

Loren continued to smile.

I've built this company up from the ground, Sharon stated. You've been a big part of that, especially in the last three years since you've taken over the south east. I admit this strains our relationship a lot but I want to do whatever I can to alleviate anything I can for you. I'm here to ask your forgiveness for what I've done and ask you to not quit or whatever retaliatory thing you were planning on doing. I'm certain we can still work together and work through this thing together.

You screwed my husband at the company Christmas party in your own home, Loren accused her boss. It felt good to say it out loud instead of just keeping it inside. Like it needed to be heard to bring cleansing.

Sharon grimaced again.

Loren let her stew in her own thoughts for a while.

I spent the weekend trying to figure out what is wrong with me that my husband would need sex from you when I was only a few feet away. Loren finally spoke her feelings. Not that I'm better than you, Loren added. But I am his wife and it's not like I was unavailable.

No one but her knew of the thoughts she had been entertaining about her husband when she found him working his magic from behind another woman that night. It wasn't like she was making him live a celibate life. Loren was holding back the tears. She had cried all she wanted to the last two days. She would cry over this situation no more. If anyone was going to cry it was not going to be her.

Honey, Sharon was quick to respond. "It was not about anything he was not getting from you. Guys don't think like that. I was just something new to try and he wanted to try it. You know me. I'm always up for new things myself. So, it happened. Wasn't what we planned or anything. It was just something that happened. Too much wine on my part.

"I was coming back downstairs and he was going up to the bathrooms. We met, joked in the hallway about clandestined meetings in dark places and the next thing I knew, we were in that room doing the deed like a couple of school kids.

That's what it was for me, anyway. The thrill of the spontaneous and the risk of getting caught like a couple of school kids. I was not trying to take him away from you. Like I could if I wanted to, she lamented, showing a sad grimace before continuing.

"I'm sure it was something similar for him. A risk to take to liven up life. A freebie from some forbidden place. Something to throw some sparks into his life. We didn't think about it. Didn't even discuss it. Neither