The Tuesday Enchantress Read online

  The Tuesday Enchantress

  A Guardian Story

  by

  Mary Jo Putney

  It was just after 2 a.m. on a warm Tuesday morning when I stumbled into the corner deli and croaked, “Gimme a triple espresso mocha latte and make it fast!”

  My pal and classmate Rajiv, who was minding the store for his grandparents, glanced up from his textbook. At this hour, he could get almost as much studying done in the deli as he would at home. “It might be malpractice to give you a triple when you already look like nine miles of bad road. Maybe you should try gettin’ some sleep?”

  Even after years of being friends, I smiled at the contrast between Rajiv’s Indian face and his Texas accent. He’d saved my bacon when I returned to school after a couple of years of bumming around. I’d lost the habit of study, and it was Rajiv who helped whip my brain into academic shape again. “I’ll sleep when finals are over.”

  He set aside his book and crossed to an espresso machine so big and fancy that it seemed like it should do more than just make coffee. “Don’t worry, Charlie, you’ll ace the exams. You always do.”

  “Only because I study so much I have no life.” I waited impatiently until he gave me the tall, foaming cup. After slurping some whipped cream off the top, I started chugging the latte. Two swallows and I started to feel alive again. “Fat, chocolate and triple caffeine,” I said contentedly. “What more can a desperate student want?”

  Rajiv pulled a couple of hot samosas out of the warming case and handed them to me. “Some protein would be good. And then maybe a scone or three.”

  I thanked him through a mouthful of samosa. He made a cappuccino for himself - only a single shot, the wimp - and I decided I would survive this last exam after all. While I chewed, I surveyed the empty deli.

  Spotlessly clean, the small place was jam-packed with corner-store staples, the espresso bar and a small but excellent selection of fresh edibles. This being New York City, there was everything from pastrami to burritos to stuffed grape leaves. The Guptas’ deli had kept me from starving for years. “Sure is quiet tonight.”

  “It’s Tuesday night. Nothing ever happens on Tuesday nights,” Rajiv said authoritatively. “They’re great for studying.”

  A chime rang as the door opened. I glanced over, then stopped in mid-bite. “That is the hottest chick I’ve ever seen,” I said softly, speaking under my breath so she wouldn’t come over and deck me for the sexist comment.

  Rajiv studied her. “Nice looking, but not spectacular. Unless she has the keys to your DNA, and judging by your expression, she does.” I could hear the grin in his voice.

  She was tallish, with a nice figure, dark hair pulled back simply at her nape, a reserved expression, and a profile that belonged on an ancient coin. I couldn’t see her eyes since she was frowning at the rack of packaged cookies. Technically, Rajiv was right. She looked damned good in jeans and a tweed blazer, but she wasn’t a raging beauty. Nonetheless, she made me want to roll on my back and wave my paws in the air.

  “OK, she’s not exactly a hot chick,” I conceded. “She’s the kind of girl you want to take home to mother and, if you manage that, your mom says ‘You finally did something right, Charie.’”

  “Either you’ve gone nuts from studying and caffeine, or you’d better go over and introduce yourself right now,” Rajiv remarked as he ambled back to the counter.

  There was a mirror over the espresso machine. The reflection was discouraging. Tall and a little underfed, I’m average looking at best, and I wasn’t at my best just now. My hair hadn’t been cut in way too long, I hadn’t shaved in a week and my mom would burn my battered sweats if I was ever fool enough to wear them home. The hot chick would probably call the cops if I tried to talk to her.

  Tentatively I reached out with my power to see if I could get a reading on her. I was immediately slammed with a magical blow fiercer than a physical punch. I gasped. My God, the hot chick was a Guardian, like me!

  Guardians are families where magic runs strong. The families have been around since time began, near as anyone knows. We’re human, but with some special abilities. Our elders train us to use them conservatively, to help people, not just to accumulate wealth and power for ourselves. Most of us have regular jobs and regular lives. We’re encouraged to marry other Guardians to keep the power strong, but I’d never met a female Guardian who made me think of orange blossoms and cottages with picket fences.

  The hot chick whipped her head up when I tried to read her. Her quick scan of the store passed over Rajiv and landed on me with a scowl that would freeze the whiskers off a brass cat. So I walked over to her. “You’re a Guardian,” I said softly. “So am I.”

  Her expression chilled another couple of degrees. “Then you should know better than to probe someone without permission.” Her voice was somewhere between whisky and velvet, her accent was educated British, and her eyes were a dazzling shade of honey gold. If she asked me to lie down so she could walk over me, I’d do it.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be able to sense that.” I gave her my best, earnest nice-guy look. “You were so beautiful I had to know more.”

  You’d think a sincere compliment might soften her a bit, but no dice. She looked like she wanted to whack me with a package of cookies. “Goodnight, Mr Owens.” She had a lot of power to be able to pick up my name when she zapped me.

  “What’s your name?” When her brows arched, I said reasonably, “I’m sure you don’t want me to be thinking of you as the Hot Chick.”

  For an instant, I thought she’d crack a smile, but instead she said frostily, “Maggie Macrae. That’s Ms Macrae to you.”

  A Guardian, all right. The Macraes were one of the best-known British families. As she brushed past me, I asked, “What’s your strongest ability?”

  “Shielding.” She pivoted and crossed to the counter with long, graceful strides.

  No kidding — her shields were blocking me cold. I sighed, regretful but not resigned. Now that I’d met her and knew she was a Guardian, I could find her again.

  Maggie pulled out her wallet to pay for the cookies. “Do you ever have British biscuits like McVitie’s chocolate digestives?” The smile she gave Rajiv was dazzling.

  “No, but I could order some if you want to come back in a few days,” Rajiv said enthusiastically. Though she might not have as much impact on him as she did on me, he wasn’t immune to that killer smile.

  She pursed her lips—her ripe, full, kissable lips—and said, “I shall be in New York for some time, so if you could order four boxes, I’d be most grateful. Will they be in by Monday?” I could listen to her gorgeous voice and accent all night. And if Rajiv put the moves on her, I’d kill him.

  Before he could reply, three guys who looked like your worst nightmare came in waving guns. “This is a stick-up!” one yelled as he shot out the security camera in a blaze of bullets. As glass shards rained down, another snarled, “Give us the money!”

  The robbers were young, and I could see from their wild eyes that they were sky-high on some kind of drug that made them hyper and stupid. A headline flashed through my mind: shopkeeper AND TWO CUSTOMERS MURDERED IN BURGLARY! Thank God I wasn’t clairvoyant—that was fear talking, not a premonition.

  The lead guy, a hulk with a tacky little goatee, spotted me and Maggie Macrae. “Put yer hands up and get over to the counter,” he ordered with a wave of his gun: some kind of big, mean-looking semi-automatic.

  I raised my hands and edged towards the counter very slowly. I tried to look harmless, which wasn’t much of a stretch. Maggie did the same.

  “No problem, man,” Rajiv said peacefully. “You can have all the money in the register. I’ll open it for y
ou.”

  He reached for the cash drawer. The robber who had shot out the camera, a short guy with bare, tattoo-covered arms, shouted, “He’s going for a gun!”

  The tallest guy fired a long blast of bullets, the noise ear-numbing in the small space. The slugs slammed into Rajiv. He pitched sideways, his glasses flying and gouts of blood spurting horribly over his yellow “Buddha Rocks!” T-shirt.

  Maggie screamed, and three guns swivelled towards us. The barrels looked like the Grand Canyon. I dived for the floor, dragging her down and shielding her with my body as best I could. Guardian magic can do a lot of things, but it won’t stop hot lead.

  Maggie felt soft and indignant under me, but was smart enough not to struggle. Guardians have sometimes been persecuted as witches over the centuries, and the ones who survived long enough to procreate knew how to duck and cover.

  A couple of bullets splintered the counter above my head before Goatee Guy growled, “Stop shooting, Shark! Someone will call the cops.”

  My guess was that Rajiv already had, using a foot switch under the counter. God, Rajiv! My stomach churned. He was an only child. His death would destroy his parents and grandparents.

  Maybe he wasn’t dead yet. Keeping my voice soft and unthreatening, I raised my head. “I’m a doctor. Will you let me look at the clerk?”

  Tattoo Man said incredulously, “This loser is a doctor?”

  The third guy, Shark, said in a jittery voice, “We should shoot ‘em all and get the hell out of here while we can.”

  Maggie said from her position flat on her stomach, “Charles won’t cause any trouble.” Her voice was as persuasive as honey poured over a bear. “If he can keep the clerk from bleeding to death, it’s better for everyone.”

  Goatee Guy gestured towards Rajiv with his gun. “OK, but don’t try nothin’! Shark, break open the cash register. When you’ve got the cash, we’ll take what these two have.” His gaze lingered on Maggie in a way that made me nervous.

  I moved to Rajiv’s side. Blood everywhere, but he was still breathing. I’d had my share of rotations in the ER, so I shut my mind to the knowledge that one of my best friends was bleeding out. This was just another crime victim. Start by figuring out how bad the damage was.

  I ripped his T-shirt open from neck to waist. There were three bullet holes, one just a graze across the top of his shoulder, no big deal.

  His eyes flickered open. “Don’t get creeped out if you fail, Charlie,” he whispered unsteadily. “Remember I’m Hindu. I get ... to reincarnate.” His eyes drifted shut again.

  What kind of loon cracks jokes at a time like this?

  The best kind.

  Two of the bullets had gone into his chest. Either could kill him. I closed my eyes and skimmed my hands above the wounds, feeling the catastrophic damage to muscle, bone, nerves and blood vessels.

  But the wounds weren’t quite lethal, if I could repair the worst of the damage in time. “Maggie, get over here,” I ordered. “I need help applying pressure.”

  She joined me in kneeling by Rajiv’s side. After a wary glance at the thugs, she turned away and hunched over Rajiv. I felt the buzz as she generated a minor spell to reduce their interest in her.

  “Do you have a clean handkerchief or anything like that?” I asked.

  “Who carries handkerchiefs these days?” Looking a little green at the amount of gore splashed around, Maggie reached over to a rack of miscellaneous grooming and toiletry products to our left. It took her only a moment to crack open a package that contained a shoe polishing kit.

  After handing me the folded polishing cloth, she opened a second package. A smart, hot chick. I really hoped we both survived this so I could persuade her that I was worth knowing. As I used the folded fabric to compress the worst of the bullet holes, I said, “Press on that other wound. And please don’t faint.”

  She managed an uneven smile as she set the second polishing cloth on the other wound and leaned on it with the heel of her hand. “I won’t.”

  As Shark noisily smashed the cash register, she breathed into my ear in a voice so soft only a Guardian could hear it, “You’re really a doctor?”

  “Yeah, if I pass the final exams I’m taking this week. I’m also a Guardian healer. But my specialty is disease and infection and that sort of thing, not surgery and trauma.” I closed my eyes as I concentrated on Rajiv’s torn vena cava, the most lethal of his injuries. When I had the structure clearly in my mind, I poured energy around the tear, pulling the ragged edges together . . .

  Damn, I couldn’t quite get it! The pieces slid out of my control.

  I tried again, then again. Still couldn’t repair the damage, and time - as well as Rajiv’s blood - was running out fast. “I need more energy, Maggie. Drop those shields and touch my hand so I can borrow some power.”

  She started to protest, then shut up and spread her fingers so her right little finger touched the outside of my left hand. I could feel her shields go down, and also felt how much she hated doing it.

  Sharing energy like this was usually done only between people who knew each other very well. Maggie and I were strangers, and she didn’t even like me. But she was Guardian to the core - help was needed so she came through.

  Any other time I wouldn’t have been able to resist studying her mind and energy, but all I cared about now was channelling her magic. She had a hell of a lot of it, too. I felt a disorienting internal wrench as we connected, as if I was tumbling into free fall.

  She gasped, and so did I. This was the Guardian equivalent of going skydiving with no training on how to open the parachute. After a couple of heartbeats, our energies began to adjust. It’s hard to describe — sort of like the music of two different instruments swooping around each other while trying to find the exact same note.

  Then we snapped into sync and her power began flowing through the link, smooth and rich and deep. I spent an instant enjoying the sensation - she felt like the very best bittersweet Belgian chocolate. Then I concentrated on focusing the blaze of white light we had created.

  When I’d mastered our combined energies, I channelled it around the damaged vena cava and visualized wholeness. The ragged edges slowly came together and began to meld until the vessel was as good as new.

  “Got it!” I said with quiet exultation. It was strange to be saving a life while Shark was emptying the register a yard away and the other two thugs were scarfing down hot food from the case right behind Maggie. The deli looked even smaller from the floor.

  Maggie uttered a soft prayer of thanks. “Ready for the other wound?”

  “Yep.” I took over the blood-saturated pad and did a detailed scan of the damage. Besides blood vessels, some nerves needed fixing. Bones were broken and that kind of repair would require far more energy than Maggie and I could muster. But with her help, I could manage the vessels and nerves.

  As I worked on the second wound, I was dimly aware of police sirens. I was just finishing the second repair when suddenly sirens were screaming right outside the door. A gruff voice yelled, “Police! Come out with your hands up!”

  “Jesus, the cops are here!” Goatee Guy exclaimed. “We need to get the hell out the back!”

  I snapped in my ER voice, “There isn’t a back way out! Better to surrender before they shoot you down.”

  “If the guy’s already dead, we should shoot you two as well so there are no witnesses,” Shark growled, his eyes crazed. I gave him credit for the fact that he was trying to think. Can’t say I liked the murderous direction of his thoughts.

  “Rajiv isn’t going to die,” I said swiftly. “Since you let me work on him, he should pull through. You were smart. Be smart again. Surrender to the police and you may serve a little time, but you’ll have a life ahead of you.”

  Tattoo Man scowled at Rajiv’s limp body. “Ya shouldn’t ‘ve shot him, Shark. Think the cops will negotiate if we take these two hostage? Maybe we can use them to get away.”

  I was dizzy and light-headed fr
om the energy I’d burned in the healing, but I tried to find an argument that might work. “Rajiv is holding his own, but negotiations take time. He might not make it if you delay,” I warned. “Rajiv’s mom is a federal judge. If he dies, the cops will never stop hunting till they find you, and then they’ll fry you for murder one.”

  “The smug bastard is lying to us,” Shark said, voice panicky. “We gotta blow him away, too.”

  He was aiming his gun at me when Maggie Macrae said in a rich, soothing voice, “He’s not lying. The clerk is going to be all right. You can be too.”

  Slowly she stood, uncoiling her long, lithe body. She’d shed her blazer and released her hair. Under the fluorescents, thick waves fell past her shoulders in a shimmering cascade of dark auburn. I stared, entranced. Ms Maggie Macrae was the most sensual woman I’d ever seen.

  The thugs reacted the same way. Their gazes were riveted. Maggie took a step towards Goatee Guy, who was the closest. It was the bravest act I’ve ever seen.

  “Jaybird, you’ve never done anything like this before,” she said, her voice sultry. “Do you want to break your grandmother’s heart after all she’s done for you?”

  He gasped and his hand dropped until the barrel of his gun pointed towards the floor. She smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. The weapon fell from his nerveless fingers and landed harmlessly on the floor as he stared at her like a stunned ox.

  She turned to Tattoo Man with an enchanting smile. “Rocko, you’ve got a girl who loves you and a baby on the way. Why did you let yourself get talked into this?”

  He looked as if he wanted to weep. His weapon also sagged towards the floor. Maggie patted his cheek and he beamed at her goofily as the gun slipped from his hand.

  She turned to Shark, who backed away frantically, trying to steady his gun with two shaking hands as he aimed at her heart. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of witch?”

  The spell she’d used on the others wasn’t working on him, so I dragged myself out of my trance and hurled a can of tomato soup into Shark’s throat. “Duck, Maggie!”