that my answer will change in the next few weeks. Have a good
day."
He hit
"End" and dropped the phone back on the seat, glancing over at me. I
raised my eyebrows, saying nothing, in the universal female sign language that
needed no telepathic ability to translate.
He sighed.
"Okay, here's the thing. There's magic in the universe. And there are
those of us who understand it, at least a little, and to a certain extent, more
than most people, anyway, we can use it. And there are those who don't
understand a damn thing but pretend they understand everything. And try to use
it. Pretenders. And they're who give magic and
witchcraft a bad name. Because those of us with real power, we don't talk about
it to anybody but others we know to
have power."
"You
announced within five minutes of meeting me that you were a warlock and I was a
witch and we were reincarnated lovers, an eternal couple."
He laughed.
"That's because you're a witch and I'm a warlock and we're reincarnated,
eternal lovers. And I knew it. And I knew you knew it way down deep and I
didn't think anything less would bring it to the surface. But believe me, I
don't tell anybody anything personal
unless I'm damn sure who I'm talking to. None of us do. You didn't even talk
about it with your sister. For years ."
"So, that call ?" Time to get to the point
here.
He sighed
and glanced over before changing lanes. "There's a group called
Resurrection. Membership is contingent upon being reincarnated. Status is
contingent on how many times."
"Say
what?"
"To be
a member you have to be reincarnated. And how high up you go in the membership
depends on how many times you claim you've been reincarnated. The more times, the higher the status."
I sat and digested
this. "You mean—like being a Daughter of the American Revolution? Or a Daughter of the Confederacy or something? You have to
show your bloodline? Only in this case, your past lives ?"
"Exactly."
"But—but—how
in the hell would you prove— "
"Exactly. You wouldn't. You couldn't. I mean, my trace memories are stronger
than most. But that's because of you. I remember you , not a particular past life. And I don't have any idea how many times, except I know for sure it's been at least a few
for the connection to be this strong. Probably more than a
few. And I'm sure it goes back a very long way. One of the strongest
trace memories I have is Rome,
and don't you dare laugh. Another really strong trace is something about Russia. And one from the tropics somewhere, the Caribbean maybe or Mexico or South America."
His words
sent a chill down my spine. I flashed back to our first meeting at Rosita's,
the sudden kaleidoscope of rushing scenes, the heat and sand and blood of a
Roman arena, the bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold of the Russian steppes,
shining white sand and the smell of salt air. I shook my head to clear it as he
continued.
"But
I'm not about to get up and claim I was Caesar or Alexander the Great or King
Arthur, or one of the Borgia popes, for God's sake!"
"And
these people do?"
"Oh, my God! You have no idea! And they've got
two factions trying to prove the other side's leader is an imposter. And worse, they've got my name ! How the hell
they think anybody's gonna investigate that ?"
"I
guess they figure a reincarnated warlock ought to be pretty good at it?"
"Yeah,
and just how in the hell would they know I'm a reincarnated warlock? If in fact
they do or think they do. That's the part that bothers me, this is my professional life, completely aside from what I believe personally.
I don't need a reputation as a crackpot, I'm damn good at what I do and I've
worked hard as hell at it. Nobody else's business if a psychic twinge now and
then's been a really big help. And I sure don't have the words 'reincarnated warlock'
listed in my resume, believe me!"
"No,
you certainly don't. Background listed includes Fort Lauderdale PD and Florida
Bureau of Investigation but no Warlock
University or Reincarnation
day."
He hit
"End" and dropped the phone back on the seat, glancing over at me. I
raised my eyebrows, saying nothing, in the universal female sign language that
needed no telepathic ability to translate.
He sighed.
"Okay, here's the thing. There's magic in the universe. And there are
those of us who understand it, at least a little, and to a certain extent, more
than most people, anyway, we can use it. And there are those who don't
understand a damn thing but pretend they understand everything. And try to use
it. Pretenders. And they're who give magic and
witchcraft a bad name. Because those of us with real power, we don't talk about
it to anybody but others we know to
have power."
"You
announced within five minutes of meeting me that you were a warlock and I was a
witch and we were reincarnated lovers, an eternal couple."
He laughed.
"That's because you're a witch and I'm a warlock and we're reincarnated,
eternal lovers. And I knew it. And I knew you knew it way down deep and I
didn't think anything less would bring it to the surface. But believe me, I
don't tell anybody anything personal
unless I'm damn sure who I'm talking to. None of us do. You didn't even talk
about it with your sister. For years ."
"So, that call ?" Time to get to the point
here.
He sighed
and glanced over before changing lanes. "There's a group called
Resurrection. Membership is contingent upon being reincarnated. Status is
contingent on how many times."
"Say
what?"
"To be
a member you have to be reincarnated. And how high up you go in the membership
depends on how many times you claim you've been reincarnated. The more times, the higher the status."
I sat and digested
this. "You mean—like being a Daughter of the American Revolution? Or a Daughter of the Confederacy or something? You have to
show your bloodline? Only in this case, your past lives ?"
"Exactly."
"But—but—how
in the hell would you prove— "
"Exactly. You wouldn't. You couldn't. I mean, my trace memories are stronger
than most. But that's because of you. I remember you , not a particular past life. And I don't have any idea how many times, except I know for sure it's been at least a few
for the connection to be this strong. Probably more than a
few. And I'm sure it goes back a very long way. One of the strongest
trace memories I have is Rome,
and don't you dare laugh. Another really strong trace is something about Russia. And one from the tropics somewhere, the Caribbean maybe or Mexico or South America."
His words
sent a chill down my spine. I flashed back to our first meeting at Rosita's,
the sudden kaleidoscope of rushing scenes, the heat and sand and blood of a
Roman arena, the bone-chilling, mind-numbing cold of the Russian steppes,
shining white sand and the smell of salt air. I shook my head to clear it as he
continued.
"But
I'm not about to get up and claim I was Caesar or Alexander the Great or King
Arthur, or one of the Borgia popes, for God's sake!"
"And
these people do?"
"Oh, my God! You have no idea! And they've got
two factions trying to prove the other side's leader is an imposter. And worse, they've got my name ! How the hell
they think anybody's gonna investigate that ?"
"I
guess they figure a reincarnated warlock ought to be pretty good at it?"
"Yeah,
and just how in the hell would they know I'm a reincarnated warlock? If in fact
they do or think they do. That's the part that bothers me, this is my professional life, completely aside from what I believe personally.
I don't need a reputation as a crackpot, I'm damn good at what I do and I've
worked hard as hell at it. Nobody else's business if a psychic twinge now and
then's been a really big help. And I sure don't have the words 'reincarnated warlock'
listed in my resume, believe me!"
"No,
you certainly don't. Background listed includes Fort Lauderdale PD and Florida
Bureau of Investigation but no Warlock
University or Reincarnation
Similar Books
