“Two club sodas, please,” Zack answered.
“I’d like a mimosa.” Isis glanced over at Zack’s tilted head. “I’ve always wanted to try one.”
The bartender snorted. “I’m going to need to see I.D. for that.”
Isis had learned a lot about her connection to the planet’s energy and how to manipulate it. Her mom and Sacha trained her on moving objects while her dad taught her how to create illusions. Dad also knew how to use his connection to force hypnotic suggestions into people’s minds. Although he hadn’t yet taught that skill to Isis, she had seen him do it more than a few times. It basically ran on the same principle as all the other reality-manipulating powers of a witch. Time to put it to the test.
Isis reached into her pocketbook and pulled out her hotel room keycard. She looked the bartender directly in the eyes. “I am showing you my I.D. and it says I am old enough to drink an alcoholic beverage.” She focused her thoughts on the bartender’s mind. “You see my picture and my age at twenty-one. Now that you have seen my age, you can place a mimosa on the counter for me to try.”
The bartender laughed. “That was cute. Two club sodas coming up.” She reached under the counter and placed two bottles in front of Isis and Zack. “That’ll be eight bucks. You can leave it on the counter.” She then moved onto another group of customers.
“Well, damn.” Isis shook her head. “That didn’t work out at all. I guess hypnosis just isn’t my thing.”
Isis held out her open palm, pointed at the club sodas. One bottle glided across the countertop to her hand like a piece of metal being pulled to a magnet. At least that ability was still working.
“Or maybe your heart just wasn’t into committing a crime.” Zack reached for his bottle and picked it up off the counter.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Isis took a swig of the soda while staring off at the dance floor. “Still, I wonder why her blood tastes like syrup.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Zack’s face whipped her way. His eyes squinted.
“What?”
“Did you just say something about tasting the bartender’s blood?”
“Did I say that?” Isis honestly couldn’t remember those words coming out of her mouth, yet they sounded so familiar.
Zack stood from his bar stool and clenched her wrist. “Isis, are you all right?”
Isis stared at the strobe light above the dance floor. Somehow, it seemed brighter, or darker. Or… something. She could hear Zack shouting her name. It echoed as if they were on opposite ends of a tunnel. A striking pain crossed her chest. Everything around her blurred, just like when she’d teleport herself to a new location. But she was sure that wasn’t what was happening. She inhaled but couldn’t catch her breath. “Zack, I think I’m not…okay…” Did she say that out loud or did she think it? Isis couldn’t be sure.
Her attention turned back to the bar from the sound of one or both bottles exploding. Her forearm stung from a piece of glass piercing her skin. Zack called out her name.
Then everything went dark.
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