The Witch and the Englishman by J R Rain, now you can read online.
Chapter One
“Hi, this is Allison. Thank you for calling The Psychic Hotline. How can I help you see into the future?”
It was early evening, and I was nearing the end of my shift. My “shift” was the time I was scheduled to be logged into the Hotline’s computer system, via my laptop, via my comfy couch. Once I finished my shift and logged out, I could officially get dressed and start my day. Yes, I worked in my pajamas, and, yes, I worked from home. It was a good gig, but challenging—and sometimes strange—work.
“Yes, hello,” said a very crisp and, if I wasn’t mistaken, English accent. English and Australian accents tended to sound similar to my untrained ears. Then again, I was just a simple girl from San Pedro, which was a hop, a skip and a jump from where I now lived in Beverly Hills.
Of course, simple might have gone out the window a few years ago when I’d met my first vampire—and before I had been told that I was a witch. A very powerful witch.
So weird, I thought, once again shaking my head over the insanity of it all. But to the Englishman on the other end of the line, I said, “What’s your name?”
“Don’t you already know?” he asked pleasantly enough. “I mean, you are psychic, right?”
I didn’t take offense at the question. In fact, I was usually surprised when the question wasn’t asked. In this case, I sensed the good-natured ribbing behind the question.
I said, “You bet your ass. But once I connect with you, I don’t just stop with your name. All your secrets will be mine.”
There was a pause, and then a light chuckle. “You’re joking, right?”
“I say, why stop at a name?” I swung my stockinged feet to the polished wood floor and sat forward on the couch. The Englishman had my attention. And when someone had my attention...they really had my attention. I found myself logging into him easily enough. “The real question is, how much do you want me to know?”
He laughed sharply. “Now you’re making me nervous. I suppose I had that coming. It was a rude question.”
“A fair question,” I said.
“Okay, now I like you, too,” he said in his clipped accent.
“Now, that I could have predicted. So, how can I help you, Billy?”
He made a sound that might have been a gasp.
I made a sound that might have been a laugh.
“Well, I’m gobsmacked. Obviously, my name came up on your computer screen,” he said.
“Obviously.”
“Caller I.D. or something?”
“Or something,” I said.
“My name didn’t come up on your screen, did it?”
“No, it didn’t.”
“I see.”
Except, of course, he didn’t see. Not really. I knew this by the way his energy level had dropped...and by the way he’d mumbled those last two words. Mostly, of course, I knew by his body language.
Yes, his body language.
Little did Billy know that I was presently “in” his house with him. Although I was relatively new to the world of psychics—at least, paid psychics—I was highly gifted in “remote viewing.” Yes, I could do exactly what the term implied: I could “see” from a distance. In my case, I could see the surroundings of those I tuned into. And, I could see them.
I was very in tune with Billy.
Presently, he was sitting in a wide-open living room, looking through a big sliding glass door that overlooked a sweeping back yard. Rising above the treetops, in the distance were some familiar tall buildings. I recognized the skyline. He was, if I wasn’t mistaken, in Santa Monica.
I didn’t know how remote viewing worked. It was weird and freaky, and it only seemed to get freakier by the minute. I got freakier by the minute, too, especially since I was best friends with a vampire.