In the Air Tonight

“Prudence.”

 

 

I should probably find a wolf named Prudence amusing, but right now so little was.

 

“And your name?” It would be too weird, now that I knew her name was Prudence, to continue thinking of him as the Puritan. “Prudence and the Puritan”—sounded a little kinky.

 

Now that was amusing.

 

“Henry,” he said absently. “Who is he?” At my confused expression he continued, “He who will burn us all?”

 

“The maniac?” It was his turn to appear confused. “Big knife. Tried to kill me.”

 

“Ah. I don’t think he’ll be killing, or burning, any of us again.”

 

“Who’s us?”

 

“Witches.”

 

I glanced at the wolf, frowned. He had said us, but how could a wolf be a witch? For that matter, how could he? Not only was he a he—and wasn’t that a warlock?—but they were ghosts.

 

“You lost me,” I admitted.

 

“I am a witch; Pru is a witch.” He spread his hands. “Have I found you?”

 

“Not really. How can you burn?”

 

Prudence yipped. The sound, or perhaps my words, made the ghost appear even ghostlier.

 

“How do you think we became what we are?”

 

“You were burned as witches?”

 

His shudder was answer enough.

 

“When?”

 

“Sixteen twelve.”

 

“That explains the hat.”

 

Henry lifted his hand and touched the brim.

 

“Why are you here?” I asked. “You’re talking over four hundred years. Why me? Why now?”

 

“The hunters are back.” His lips tightened, and he stroked the wolf again, though I think this time more for his own comfort than hers. “For you.”

 

“Me?” I didn’t realize I’d spoken more loudly until he repeated, “Hush,” as he had to Pru. “I’m not a witch.”

 

“Then why did the hunter try to kill you?”

 

“He was crazy?”

 

Henry shook his head.

 

“I don’t know anything about witches or witchcraft. I haven’t studied. I don’t own a cat. No eye of newt.”

 

“Being a witch has nothing to do with any of that. You are born a witch; you die a witch.” He swept his hand down his black-clad form. “Even after you die, a witch you remain.”

 

“I can’t be.”

 

“You see me.”

 

I didn’t bother to answer what wasn’t a question. I was talking to him, obviously I saw him. Didn’t mean he was actually there.

 

“You see others.”

 

“I don’t want to.”

 

“Want has nothing to do with it.”

 

“Got that right.”

 

“You have innate supernatural abilities.”

 

“Plural?” I asked, and he nodded. “Hell.”

 

“Hell has nothing to do with it either. Abilities are from God.”

 

Considering how he’d died and when …

 

“I bet the witch hunters loved you.”

 

“They did not. Hence the burning.”

 

Sarcasm appeared lost on him. Had they had it back then?

 

“What else do you think I can do?” I asked.

 

“Move objects with your mind.”

 

“No way!”

 

“Thus far only when you are upset, frightened, or under some stress, but with practice…”

 

I remembered the phone flying off the table the first time I’d seen the maniac. I’d thought Henry had done it. I still kind of did.

 

“Seeing ghosts and flinging things doesn’t seem very witchy to me.”

 

“What does?”

 

“Broomsticks. Familiars.” I eyed the wolf. “Is she yours?”

 

“My familiar?” Pru growled as he laughed. “She’s my wife.”

 

“How—” I began, and Henry’s gaze flicked past me.

 

I spun. Bobby Doucet stood on the porch.

 

“Who are you talking to?” he asked.

 

I glanced over my shoulder. Prudence and the Puritan were gone. Even if they’d been there, it wasn’t as if he could see them.

 

“Myself.” Only when I started for the house did I realize how cold I was. How long had I been out here?

 

“Okay.” His gaze remained fixed on the trees. “Because for a minute there I thought you were talking to the wolf.”

 

I stumbled, righting myself before I ate dirt. “I … uh…” I looked at the trees again, then back. “What?”

 

“The huge black wolf. Is it someone’s pet?”

 

“No.” He’d seen the wolf. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

 

“If it isn’t a pet, then what were you doing anywhere near it?”

 

“Wait.” I held up my hand. “You saw a wolf?”

 

“Wasn’t hard. It was right there. Within biting distance of your…” He waved in my direction. “Everything.”

 

“What else did you see?”

 

“What else was there?”

 

Nothing that he should have seen. Including that wolf. That he had seen Pru and not Henry meant …

 

I wasn’t sure. She was real? Bobby was special? I was nuts? I needed Henry back.

 

“Raye?”

 

I tried to remember what he’d asked me.

 

What else was there?

 

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