Inheritance

Chapter 2: Jack (Part 3)

"Nice shot," Crow muttered.

Jack slipped his gun back in his holster. The taser lay on the floor, blown to smithereens. It did not attack again. Crow gathered the pieces and at Olives instructions put the parts in different trashcans. 

Outside the snow fell, silent, silent, silent and the temperature dropped. The witch of the seasons sat in her windowless room, protected from the darkness. She communed with the early change in the weather and her sister witches of wind and water who helped bring it about. Fortunatus, Crow and Jack examined all the angles around Jack's attack and Jack voiced his concern that the murder and his attack might be related.

"They might be, but there's no evidence for it yet," Crow said.

They worked the murder and attack raw. Fortunatus excused himself and slipped out into the dark falling snow. Jack headed to bed with a yawn. Crow watched them leave. He shifted over to the sofa and sat alone in the living room with Zephyr to wait up for Olive. 

--- 

Jack woke up to the pop and sizzle of frying bacon and the unique upward reflection of sun on snow. He stared up at the ceiling, his mind too preoccupied to sleep late. Sick of his room, he scrambled out of bed, dressed, and walked out to the kitchen area. Olive stood at the stove turning bacon and Crow bent over the fireplace lighting kindling with bigger pieces on hand to add to the fire.

"Morning." Jack helped himself to coffee and sat at the bar. "So, what's with the snow, Mom?"

Olive laughed and spun in a circle.

"Long ago, it was decided that this would be a colder season than the last few falls, but I decided I just wanted snow. The plants agreed and the other factors were all in place, so we went for it. Don't worry; it'll melt in a day or so."

"It looks great."

"Thanks." She kissed his cheek and set a plate piled high with eggs and bacon in front of him.

"Any wolf dreams last night?"

"Not that I remember," Jack said as he savored the chewy bacon before shoveling eggs in his mouth.

Zephyr sat by Jack's plate with a shot glass filled with syrup. She burped quietly after she drank it down.

The smell of snow, burning wood, and cooking breakfast filled the house and hearts of everyone who lived there with love. It pulled them closer together in the subtle, protective magic of family.

"Fort come in last night?" Jack asked after he finished eating. He plunged his hands into hot soapy water and started washing dishes as Olive sat down on the sofa to rest.

"Yeah, he's in his room," Crow said. "So, you up for a snowball fight?"

"Am I?" Jack asked, incredulous, "What about you old man?"

"Bring it on, kid," Crow said with a fiendish smile.

Jack finished the dishes and hurried to his room. He pulled on an old pair of boots, three shirts, his coat, scarf and gloves. Turning the volume up, he slipped his phone into his pocket incase it rang. He tied his extra black bandana from the back of his sock drawer around his head, the one from yesterday still damp. Wrinkled bandanas could be a new fashion statement.

"Come on, Mom!" Jack yelled as he raced through the house to the front yard. Zephyr fluttered off to a high branch well out of harm's way, but prepared to dump piles of snow on anyone who ran underneath.

"Coming, dears," Olive said. She gave her potion a stir and then hurried out after them without so much as an extra layer of clothing on. Her beauty, her strange multi-colored hair, her freckles, all of her seemed to glow as she walked out into the snowy world she helped create.