Psychic Appeal- Urban Fantasy

Psychic Appeal Part 19

I hummed as I made my way through the apartment collecting all the things I would need for a night out; a black velour shawl lined with satin to keep me warm in the cool October night, my purse, and a picnic basket filled with cheese, fruit and water. Normally I would have packed wine, but I'd been cutting back on the alcohol lately. I just didn't seem to need it anymore.

One last check in the mirror, a tug on my off-the-shoulder sweater, and a quick fluff of my hair with my free hand, and I was ready to go.

Outside, Jacob pulled into a parking spot just as I reached the sidewalk that ran along the parking lot. He honked the horn and waved. I smiled and waved back.

It was October now. Two months had passed since I woke up in the hospital. Eight weeks filled with police inquiries, a media frenzy that alternately exalted me as a saint or accused me of being a renegade looking to escape criminal charges. There had been such a hullabaloo, I'd closed my shop indefinitely. It got to be too much with the police stopping by on a regular basis, the photographers zeroing in on me with zoom lenses while reporters shoved microphones in my face, and customers gawked (but never bought anything).

Fortunately, the dragons had paid me my weight in human gold eliminating any immediate financial concerns. The book deals and movie offers pouring in meant it was quite possible I would never have to work again, which was good considering the media showed no sign of leaving me in peace any time soon. Even now, I heard the whir and click of a camera.

At first I didn't understand the attention, but once I got out of the hospital and caught up on the news I began to see the attraction. The zombie detective that had first chased Jacob and I, forcing us into Fairy, hadn't been the only person in a position of power who was dead. Kristoff had been systematically killing and resurrecting key bureaucrats and other influential people as part of the renegades' plan for a New World Order. And not just in Salem, but in several different states. Kristoff had been criss-crossing the country on a regular basis to install zombies sure to follow his orders in key positions.

Court decisions, local legislation, and even some national senate campaigns were called into question when key people proved to have been zombies under Kristoff's control. Laws had to be repealed, criminals retried, and a full investigation into campaign finance had been launched.

Between Kristoff's infiltration of the power structure, the renegade's logistical resources, and the sheer magnitude of the dragons, the United States had been in very real danger of a coup d'etat. And human intelligence didn't even have a clue or an effective defense against such a threat. There was a lot of angry rhetoric about the government leaving us open to supernatural or Sidhe control and why didn't we allocate resources to guarding against these kinds of situations.

Bureaucrats, for their part, tap danced as best they could and threw money at the problem. They passed a budget providing funds for the CIA and FBI to hire more psychics and develop an interspecies crime unit. The Sunday morning news shows were filled with earnest middle-aged politicians making vigorous promises for lasting change.

A few of the shows had asked me to come on and weigh in with my opinion, but I declined. For one, I wasn't worried. Kristoff had been an unnaturally strong necromancer, one of a kind based on all the research I'd done in the last few weeks. His daughter, Grace was in Fairy under the care of a FIB psychologist. I visited her every so often and she seemed to be adjusting well. Because she hadn't raised humans yet, she could stay in Fairy and at least there, she couldn't raise the dead even if she wanted to. There wouldn't be another necromancer as strong as Kristoff any time soon.

Besides, the compromise Jacob had worked out with the dragons effectively eliminated their interest in taking over earth and as for the renegades, well, there would always be magic trafficking. It was, after all, human nature to want what we can't have, but it would take them a while to rebuild their black market. And anyway, I had a life to live and I was pretty sure I didn't want to become a psychic pundit.