Free FlakJacket by A Nichols Page B

beautiful, dark-haired woman caught his hands and kissed his cheek. Madison took note, but said nothing.
    “Myrna. It’s good to see you again. How is David?”
    “He’s good; he’s here looking to speak to this young lady.” Her eyes went to Madison who was standing nearby. “She’s a true beauty, isn’t she?”
    “She is lovely.”
    “You’re her close protection tonight?”
    “That—and other things.”
    Myrna’s eyelids went up. “Are you two a couple, then?”
    Madison waited breathlessly for his reply, but he didn’t address the question. “Let me introduce you.” He pulled on Madison’s arm and turned her. “Myrna, this is Madison Kelly. Madison—this is Myrna Thompson, an old family friend. Her husband and I went to graduate school together.” A tall man approached the three of them and looked Madison up and down, quite frank in his approval.
    “Well done, old man. She’s beautiful. I thought everyone was kidding about her. She doesn’t look like a witch though, does she?” And he laughed.
    Jordan thought of the spell she had put on him. “It depends on what one looks for in a witch , I would say.”  
    “Gentlemen, I am standing right here.” Madison said.
    “I’d love to talk with you later, if I may?” She nodded. “Any pronouncements for me? I love fortune tellers.” That was David’s question, and he was teasing.
    A vision flashed before her eyes, unbidden, and she stared at him for a minute or two. Her voice was low when she spoke. “You will be a father before the year is out.” Madison’s eyes twinkled as she watched the expressions flit over his face, one chasing another. The most prominent one was fear.
    He swallowed hard. “Is she often right about things, Jordan?” David looked exceptionally nervous.
    “I would consider what she says if I were you.” David pulled his wife to him, his eyes asking the question he couldn’t seem to put into words. Jordan pulled Madison away with a stern grip. “That was unkind; David doesn’t want children for a long time.”
    “He will be a father by Christmas—a little girl, I believe, and he will love her.”
    Confusion reigned on Jordan’s face. “Madison, are you seeing this?” She nodded; he hesitated to ask but stepped boldly forth. “And what are you seeing for us?”
    She looked directly at him, her eyes serious, debating what to say, finally giving in to the truth. “We will have a son in the spring.”
    “A son. My son?”
    “Well, there was that delivery man, so who knows!” She was amused at his discomfort as to whether he should believe her or not. He did not appear to be upset at the thought of a child of his own, and that pleased her.
    “Oh, that man, right.” He needed to change the subject quickly. “I guess that means you aren’t on birth control, then.”
    “No.”
    “I think we should dance.” He pulled her into his arms and began to waltz with her to the music, his mind running in circles with her words. She moved as one with him, and he noted that she often seemed to be inside his head. They had danced around the floor several times when she tensed. “There is danger in this room,” she whispered in this ear. He tightened his hands on her and pulled her away from the ballroom into a side room, shielding her with his body. Her breath was uneven as Jordan drew his gun.
    Seconds later, a man crept into the room, a small gun drawn, but Jordan was ready for him. “Drop the gun.” He stepped in front of him, his own gun in evidence. His low voice echoed in the room. There was some hesitation, but the man dropped the weapon. Keeping Madison behind him, Jordan kicked it away. Another man came into the room, a gun also drawn; he worked for Jordan. The caught man made a sudden lunge and pushed past him and through the open doorway; Jordan’s hand caught his man’s arm before he could fire, and he shook his head. “Too crowded. Try to follow him.”
    Madison stood where he had left her, shaking.