Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,2

by a cruel laugh, and he walked out of my bedroom and into my bar. From there he walked out of my reality and into everyone else’s. Literally. It forced me to wonder once again if it had ever been a good idea to move the pocket universe I called home closer to the real world. Did I really want magic-users powerful enough to know how to access the doorway able to travel between the two?

When I first discovered this plane of existence, I saw it as an oasis away from all suffering: Living entirely alone, I wouldn’t have to watch everyone I ever knew slowly rot away and die while I remained unchanged. I wouldn’t have to invent new lives in new towns every twenty years or so when it became apparent that I still looked the same while everyone else grew older. I wouldn’t have to see the jealousy in the eyes of those I let know about my immortality, when they started to be affected by age and sickness. I’d already been through all of that and more.

Also, I wouldn’t have to deal with my father anymore.

It was a welcome respite for a while, but eventually I came to realize just how awful solitude truly is. Calling forth djinn servants helped, as did visiting other dimensions. But eventually I came to miss being around people. Which was when I had the idea of turning my pocket universe into a hangout for the magical set, a crazy bar called Memory Plague, or “The M. P.” for short. Alcohol can be a plague on the memory—or take away such a plague. And this way, while I couldn’t be of the people anymore, I could at least be around them. So I took on the moniker Fantazia—I left my real name safely in the past, along with a whole lot of pain—and began my stint as barmaid and hostess.

Eventually some realized how powerful I was and started coming to me for favors. Eventually I started granting them—for a price, since it’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone worth a freebie. And since one of the best places to get information is a bar—people always confide in bartenders once they get a few drinks in them—I started trading in information, too. Information doesn’t come cheap. My public persona is a hard-as-nails bitch who doesn’t care about anything or anyone. If you don’t care, no one can hurt you.

I drew that detachment around me again like a cloak as I got dressed in a complicated black lace body stocking. Why do I dress like this? To be totally honest, I like men looking at me. It’s one of the few thrills I still get in life. I like to wear sexy outfits to get attention. It’s one of the reactions from people that I trust to be genuine. Sex appeal is our basest instinct, and that being the case, I say, if you’ve got it, you should be allowed to flaunt it.

I noticed as I dressed that the protective wards I usually have the djinn servants paint on my arms in henna were smeared from last night’s debacle. I didn’t feel like having them redone this morning, though. It would serve as a reminder to myself of what happened when I got maudlin and drunk. They’d still serve their function, even in mild disarray.

I zipped up my thigh-high stiletto-heeled black boots and exited my bedroom, not stopping until I was out in the bar area. Everything seemed unnaturally quiet. Memory Plague was usually a place of muted conversation, but it wasn’t the absence of the patrons that set me on edge. Things hadn’t been the same here since the Elite Hands of Justice stopped by to play houseguests.

The EHJ. Usually a cadre of respected crime-fighters, they’d been on the run from the law after a series of misunderstandings and needed a safe house. The man that used to be my father, the Reincarnist, now named Wesley Charles, had seemed to think he could just crash here. I’d let him. I’d magically redone the whole pocket universe to accommodate him and his friends, magically locking all of the patrons out for reasons still unknown to them and turning the bar into a damn dormitory for heroes. When it was over, they went back to their superstar lifestyle and I went back to my reclusive one. Oh sure, they offered me a place on the team, but I know better than that.