The Royal Jagger

“What are you two talking about?” Gwen complained. “I want to know, too.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Marissa grumbled. “I’m not going to discuss this. In fact, I think I shall take my leave. I’m still very tired, and…”

“And you’re hoping to sneak in a phone call,” teased Gwen as she pointed directly at the scrap of paper beneath the concealment of Marissa’s clothes.

“It’s so annoying when you do that, Gwen,” she grumbled. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Marissa didn’t waste much time hurrying back to her cave. She went right into her bedroom and dug out the phone she had yet to unpack. She had to look for the phone jack and plug the thing in before she was finally able to dial.

“Hello?” said Peter, though he must know it was her calling.

“Hi, you’ll never guess what I was just doing.”

“Dreaming of me?” he teased.

“Certainly not,” she lied. “I just snuck a peek into the magician caves.”

“Why would you do that?” he asked curiously.

“That’s top secret,” she teased him. “What were you doing?”

“Watching television,” he said. “But human news seems pretty depressing. I’m beginning to think the president might be thinking of starting a war with the Soviets. Now he’s just decided to build some defensive weapon that would stop missiles from entering American airspace.”

“You watch the human news?” Marissa asked curiously. “You don’t wish you were still among them do you?”

 “Of course not,” he scoffed. “It’s not that I want to be part of their politics again or anything, but I think it’s a bad idea to just sit down here and rot. I think we paranormals should be trying to reclaim our right to go outside, and live our lives however we see fit, just like everyone else.”

“But we’re not like everyone else,” she reminded him. “Perhaps we are safer where we are.”

“How safe can we be while Agents are allowed to kill women just because they refuse to get a flu shot?” Peter pointed out.

“You know about that?” Marissa gasped. “How did you hear about it?”

“Word travels,” he said. “Besides, didn’t I tell you I can be anything I want? I’ve pretended to be an Agent more than once. But I don’t think that’s what we want to talk about, is it?”

“Then what did we want to talk about?”

“I need to see you again,” he said in a husky voice.

“Why?” she asked softly, her stomach doing a little flip.

“To taste you,” he admitted.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’ll find a way then. I’m too tired now.”

“Sleep, then,” he told her. “Sleep, just as I will. And perhaps we’ll meet in our dreams.”