“If this were a fairytale, and if I were a witch intent on distributing appropriate justice as often happens in fairy tales, I would say that you’re suffering a physical manifestation of your shitty thoughts. That every time you even think of hurting Lydia in any possible way, your dick will start burning and you’ll get an insanely itchy and painful rash. It’ll spread over your balls and out along your body and won’t go away until you’ve willingly sat and endured it for at least twenty four hours. The ticking clock resets every time you think about her again.”
I shrugged. “But of course, that’s just a fairytale. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in the real world, so I have no idea what’s going on with you. Maybe you should see a doctor, though I’ve heard that conditions like this can plague you for the rest of your life. Oh, and don’t imagine you’ll be able to get out of it by committing suicide. You can try, but it won’t take.”
I glanced at Lydia, who was looking at me like I should be wearing a straitjacket. “Is that the sort of punishment you’d inflict if you could? Or would you add to that? I mean, if you could curse him with something.”
Her gaze narrowed. “I’m grateful for you rescuing me, but I don’t appreciate you making fun of my situation.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Just tell me, in the best of all possible worlds, what would you do to pay him back for what he’s done?”
“I don’t know. I’d want to make sure he didn’t hurt another woman again. Or an animal. Or anybody, really.”
I nodded. “I should have thought of that. Good call.”
I focused, gathering my magic and shaping my intent. I lobbed the spell at him.
“Is that it?” Jen asked.
“I thought it would be more...noticeable,” Lorraine said, disappointment twining through her voice.
“Kick him in the balls and see what happens,” I suggested.
“I’d love to,” Lorraine said. “But Lydia deserves to do that one.”
“Want to kick him in the nuts, Lydia?” I asked her.
Confusion, irritation, and pain mingled on her face. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
“I know, and if the cops get here first, you won’t get a chance to give him a taste of his own medicine,” I said. “What do you have to lose?”
“Blood?”
“Worth a risk, though, isn’t it?” I asked “If it were me, I’d take that crop and beat him bloody, then stomp on him until I broke every bone in his body.” I shrugged. “It’s probably over the top, but I’m vindictive that way.”
She hesitated, then crossed over to where he stood and plucked the crop from his hand. He snarled and reached out to grab her by the throat. She flinched away even as he staggered back, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for air. He retreated another two steps and was able to suck in a loud breath before breaking into coughs.
“What happens if he tries to, say, shoot someone?” Jen asked in the same tone she’d order coffee.
“He’ll suffer the fate he intends, just short of dying. If he decides to poison someone, he’ll feel the effects of the poison all the way to the point of death, and then he’ll recover. Same for a shooting, or trying to choke someone.”
“You can’t be serious,” Lydia said, staring at Flannery as the coughing fit faded and he straightened, looking a little sick and scared, like he’d finally figured out something strange was in play and he wasn’t weaseling out of paying for his actions this time. “For fuck’s sake. What am I even saying? That’s impossible. It’s crazy!”
“You’d think, but humor us. Try it again,” Jen said. “If it works twice, it’s probably true.”
Lydia studied her for a moment, and finally nodded, clearly dubious. She lifted the crop high and Flannery grabbed for her arm, only to yelp and clutch his own as he tried to back out of reach.
“Fucking bitch!”
Still holding the crop high, Lydia pursued him. “Nobody asked you for your opinion, so keep it to yourself,” she said, and brought it down with a whistlingthwack! The crop stuck across his crotch and upper thighs.
He howled and grabbed himself, bending over.
Lydia’s eyes widened and she gave a delighted laugh. “Stand up again, you good for nothing piece of shit. You’ve got a lot more coming.”
“And here’s the drunk with power portion of the show,” Lorraine said.
“She’s more than allowed,” I said.
“Damned straight,” Lorraine said. “It’s kind of nice to see a woman turn the tables for once.”
