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She unzipped the parker, wiggled her shoulders and let it spill off her back. I was glad to see her still in blue jeans with a cotton blouse b.u.t.toned to the collar. "To cast the witch's light, thou must link with another."
"Another witch?"
"Aye."
"Lilith?"
"'Tis only natural, is it not? You and she art thick and thin in love. What better way say thee then to show it?"
I shook my head. "I don't know, Ursula. I have to ask myself what's worse, seeing you at every turn or seeing her?"
"I ask thee not what is worse, but what is right?"
"What is easiest?"
"In the end, right is easiest."
"Then how do I do it? How do I lose the link with you and link with her, preferably without her knowing?"
"I do not know."
"You have to know. Find out."
"As you wish." And in a blink, she was gone.
After my shower, I wrapped a towel around me and went out into the kitchen. Carlos was there. He had made himself at home, fixing coffee, eggs, bacon and toast. I told him I was not hungry, but took a cup of coffee back to the bedroom with me while I got dressed. Lilith was still sleeping. I closed the blinds, pulled the covers up over her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. She cooed softly, rolled on to her side and curled into a ball. It was all I could do not to climb back in bed and spoon her until the sun slipped back into the night. At which point I would return the favors that she had given me. If not for my fears that Ursula might pop up in the equation, I might have done it then. I could not imagine having to explain that one to Lilith, or to Dominic, as I am sure Ursula would tell him. It would be so simple, I thought, so utterly uncomplicated if we were not witches. Yet the thought of that repulsed me. Simple is what I had before I met Lilith. I lived without living and died without dying. It is not so much that she completes me. She does. Those who know me see it, and I wear that distinction like a crown. More importantly, she defines who I am. Gives meaning to my life. Is it magic? Of course, but it is not witchcraft.
NINETEEN.
Carlos and I drove to work in his Corvette. On the ride out, I told him about the linking thing with Ursula.
"Really?" he said, his boyish grin pulling at the lines around his eyes. "She comes to you just for thinking about her?"
"Yes."
He looked me up and down suspiciously. "How come she ain't here now?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're thinking about her now. Aren't you?"
Good question, I thought. "I don't know. Guess she has to want to come."
"Probably a good thing. Where would she sit, in your lap?"
"She wouldn't have to sit. She only comes to me in my head."
"But you can see her, right?"
"Of course."
"She ever come to you naked?"
"Carlos."
"What? It's a fair question."
"I'm not answering that."
"Why? Afraid I'll tell Dominic?"
"I know you will tell Dominic."
"So, she does."
"Carlos."
"Tony."
"I'm changing the subject. Did we bring Ferguson in last night?"
"Are you going to tell Lilith?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. Tell me about Ferguson."
"Corporal Olson brought him in. She is going to find out, you know?"
"Olson?"
"Lilith."
"Yes, I know. Is he talking?"
"Ferguson? He's talking. What do you think she'll do?"
"Who?"
"Lilith."
"I don't know. What's he saying?"
"The s.h.i.+t is going to hit the fan."
"Ferguson said that?"
"No. I'm saying that. With Lilith."
"I'm talking about Ferguson."
"Does he know about you and Ursula?"
"Ferguson?"
"Dominic."
"Carlos, please. Can we talk about just one thing at a time here?"
"Sure." He fixed his gaze on the road ahead, but I saw his eyes squint with a brewing smile. "Does she kiss like Lilith?"
"Carlos, we are not having this conversation."
"Does that mean she doesn't?"
"Carlos."
He soured his face at me. "Ferguson says he'll talk. Wants to make a plea deal."
"That's good."
"No it's not. He said he will only talk to the Feds."
"We'll tell him no."
"Too late. The D.A. already said yes. We have to turn him over to the FBI. Dominic called his buddy from the Bureau. He's coming in this morning to conduct an interview with him."
"Dominic is working today?"
"Dominic works every day."
"Yes, but not on the day after his wedding. What's wrong with that boy?"
"I don't know. Maybe he had a fight with his wife because she keeps running off in her dreams to be with another man."
I shook my finger at him. "I'm warning you, Carlos. I'll shut you off completely."
"No. Come on, Tony. You know I live vicariously through you."
"Then behave."
And he did. For the rest of the ride all we talked about was how much it sucked that we had to turn Ferguson over to the FBI. At the office, Dominic seemed even more disappointed than we did. Though admittedly, his hangover may have exaggerated that disappointment. Carlos and I caught up with him in the Detective's lounge, nursing a hangover while sipping black coffee through a straw.
"There's the happy bridegroom," I said. I came up behind him and put my arm around his shoulder. "How's it going? Married life treating you well?"
"Please," he said, rubbing his temples briskly. "Not so loud. Have some respect for the dearly departed brain cells."
"Hung over are we?"
"Don't know about we, but I am."
"So, how was your first night as a married man?"
Spinelli lifted his head from his hands and tried to smile. "It was nice," he said, his eyes squinting for the bright lights in the break room.
"So, you're no longer a vir"
"Carlos. Stop it."
Spinelli's head went back into his hand. "That's okay. You can say it. I'm no longer a virgin. I waited until my wedding night. I'm proud I can say that."
"As well you should be," I told him.
"I wasn't going to say that," Carlos complained.
"No? What were you going to say?"
"Well, I don't know now. I forgot."
"Dominic." I patted him lightly on the back. "I just wanted to say congratulations again. You and Ursula make a wonderful couple."
"Thanks, Tony."
"Yeah, Dom." Carlos patted him in turn. "Congrats buddy. May she make an honest man out of you, and you of her. No more secrets. You hear?"
Spinelli's head came up again. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Yeah, Carlos." I shot him the evil eye. "What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. It's just a saying, right?"
"No. That's not a saying for a newlywed."
"Do you know something?" Spinelli asked.
"What? Me? No." I saw his eye begin to twitch. "I don't know anything. Do I, Tony?"
I swear I wanted to hit him. "He means nothing, Dominic. Why, is something on your mind?"
He took a sip of coffee through his straw and settled back into his seat. "Nothing. It's just that...."
"That what?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe it's a witch thing."