Cope had gotten them tickets to see some famous psychic. Everyone seemed excited, Everly especially. It was no secret his niece was going to use her gift to help people when she was older. All that was left to be determined was how? Would she be a podcaster? An Instagram influencer? Would she work side by side with Cope and Ten at West Side Magick? Or would she go her own way just like Alistair Woolfe.
Before Cope told him about getting tickets to his show, Jude had never heard of the man. According to his husband, he had a successful podcast, which landed him a guest spot on a night time talk show. The brass had been so impressed with Alistair that they’d offered him the chance to host his own talk show when a country music diva decided to ditch her Hollywood life and go back to the country to raise kids, corn, and baby goats. Jude had watched a couple of Alistair’s clips. In between interviewing movie stars about their latest flicks, he read the audience and told their futures. A new husband was around the corner for a divorced mother of three from Chicago. A large windfall for a mother drowning in debt. Twins for a woman who’d been trying to conceive for years. To Jude, the show seemed manufactured, almost scripted, but the ratings were all that mattered. Alistair’s had been so high that his show had been renewed for a second season.
“You ready for this?” Ronan asked from Jude’s left. Fitzgibbon sat on the other side of Ronan, looking bored enough to fall asleep at any second.
Jude nodded. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to be out at night.”
Ronan slapped Jude’s shoulder. “I feel you. Recuperating when it feels like the world has moved on without you isn’t easy. Add in a worrywart husband and it’s downright miserable.”
“Did Ten tell you Cope has been all over my ass?” Jude asked. He didn’t like that Cope was sharing details about their marriage, but on the other hand, Jude had been a bit of a dick lately and was sure his husband needed to vent.
“Cope didn’t say a word.” Ronan shook his head. “I’ve been shot five times, remember? I was in a coma. I’ve been stabbed and beat to hell among other things over the years. Trust me, Ten is the man of my dreams, but when I’m the slightest bit hurt,he goes into tiger mom mode. It’s nice at first, hot meals on demand. Fresh sheets, sexy sponge baths, but then comes the worry that I shouldn’t be out of bed so soon or shouldn’t be driving or working or whatever. I keep telling myself that Ten is worried because he loves me so much. I can’t imagine surviving what I have without him by my side, even if he’s annoying as fuck on occasion.”
“I heard that!” Ten called from the other end of the row. He and Cope were sitting on the other side of the kids, who were sandwiched between them.
Ronan made a heart with his hands and blew Ten a kiss. Ten shot him a discreet bird, using his middle finger to itch the side of his nose.
Jude didn’t need to be psychic to know there was going to be angry, make-up sex in Ronan’s future. Maybe he should try something similar with Cope. Gazing down the line, Jude could see his husband looked absolutely exhausted. Maybe the key for getting back into Cope’s good graces was to do something for him, the way he’d been doing for Jude since his accident. He was about to ponder options when the theater lights dimmed.
“This is gonna be so much fun, Uncle Jude!” Everly said from his side, linking her arm with his.
Jude grinned at his niece. He loved that she’d chosen the seat beside him, with Aurora in the middle, and Wolf on the other side next to Cope. “It sure is honey. Make sure you take notes on how to work the stage.”
“My stage is gonna have a dancing pole!” Everly said, before centering her attention on the curtains drawing open.
“Over my dead body,” Ronan muttered in Jude’s ear.
“Ladies and gentlemen, kids of all ages, I welcome you to One Night with Alistair.” A tall lanky man strode onto the stage. He was dressed in a glittering black tuxedo and matching top hat.
Jude couldn’t help but think the man looked like Abraham Lincoln’s super gay twin. He wasn’t bad looking with his grey eyes and easy smile, but there was something weird about him Jude couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Before we begin, I want to tell you how much the City of Salem means to me.” Alistair set a hand over his heart. “My six times great grandmother, Amity Wellington, was born in this very city in 1671. Amity was a village healer and midwife. As a matter of fact, she delivered three children of famed Witch Trial Judge, Thatcher Webb. She’d been just about to deliver her own first child when disaster struck.”
Jude gasped. He knew Thatcher Webb all too well. That son-of-a-bitch was the reason he’d ended up with three broken ribs as he tried to catch Cope who’d been about to swan dive off the upstairs railing at the judge’s house, with Webb urging Cope to jump.
“Amity was everyone’s friend. All she wanted to do was help her neighbors. She was nine months pregnant, about to deliver another Wellington into the world, until one night in 1692 when a local magistrate showed up at her house with a warrant for her arrest. The charge was witchcraft. She was tried and convicted by Thatcher Webb and sentenced to hang. Thankfully, Amity’s death sentence had been suspended until she delivered her daughter, Verity. One week later, Amity was hanged.”
The audience gasped. Jude had a very bad feeling Hooke’s story wasn’t finished just yet.
“Twenty innocent lives were lost as a result of the Witch hunt. Nineteen of those executed swore up and down that they were not witches. The one accused witch who put up no protest was Amity. Why didn’t she protest her death sentence, you ask?” Alistair paused, his eyes roving the audience. “Amity didn’t proclaim her innocence, because she was in fact,notinnocent. Amity Wellington was a witch.”
More gasps and several rounds of applause came up from the audience. Jude found himself applauding Amity’s strength and bravery.
“My psychic powers come from Amity herself. Not only was she a powerful witch, but could speak to the dead and see into the future.” Alistair gazed out over the crowd, a growing look of pride on his face.
“If she could see into the future, why didn’t Amity know she was about to be arrested and hanged?” a voice sneered from behind Jude.
“Her blood flows through my veins. I was given the greatest gift by my ancestor. A gift which I am now about to share with all of you.” Allistar clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we jump in and get started.” Alistair closed his eyes and lifted his hand into the air as if he were about to conduct an orchestra. “I’ve got a J name here with me. Jason, Jaxson, no, Jaxston.” He opened his eyes to scan the crowd. “Does anyone connect with a man named Jaxston, who has brilliant green eyes?
A hand shot up two rows in front of Jude. “I do! I do!” A member of Alistair’s staff raced to the young woman who was wearing a red hoodie, and handed her a microphone.
“What’s your name?” Alistair asked, his grey eyes glittering.
“Samantha,” the woman answered, shaking as if her name had been called to be a contestant onThe Price is Right.
“Jaxton was your father?”
Samanatha nodded, seemingly unable to speak.
