Malediction: An Old World Story by Melissa F. Olson Page A

John: Rue is confiscating the phone. Home in a few hours. Love you!
    When Rue had stuffed the phone into her clutch, Sam said, “Okay, where do you want me?”
    They worked the room a little, with Ruanna handling introductions and Sam smoothly guiding the conversation to where they wanted it: the app. Ruanna and Sam both volunteered with Forever Homes, a group that went into the high-kill LA County shelters and took photos of dogs that were scheduled to be put down. They posted the photos on a number of websites where people routinely looked for pets, with the special notation that the animal’s life was at risk. If people were looking for a pet anyway, the theory went, why not direct them to the ones who needed homes the most?
    The organization also coordinated some foster and adoption events, but Sam’s area of specialty was the photos. It was going well—she was a decent amateur photographer—but what the organization really wanted was enough money to hire a team to create and market an app. Then prospective pet owners could just open the app on their smart phones and immediately see the pictures and bios for adoptable dogs in the county. The finishing touch was that even if someone didn’t want to adopt the dog in question, they could donate a little money toward the animal’s care with the touch of a finger.
    “You are, without a doubt, the best closer I’ve ever seen,” Ruanna whispered a half hour later, as they moved away from a group of Hollywood producers. Each had promised a grand to the fund. “Thank God you’re using your powers for good.”
    Sam smiled. “It’s an easy sell,” she demurred, covertly checking her watch, the silver Rolex her father had gotten her for college graduation. It was only a little after ten, but she was starting to miss her bed. And her breasts ached with the need to feed the baby. Sam was beginning to doubt that she would actually manage to ring in the New Year.  
    Just ahead she saw a very slim woman in her mid-thirties with dark hair cascading down her back in perfect loose curls. “Oh, hey, there’s Lizzy,” she said. She didn’t know Lizzy Thompkins all that well—they’d met through Ruanna—but the three of them had carpooled from the Long Beach area. Lizzy was another volunteer photographer, although she preferred working with cats, whereas Sam liked the dogs best. All smooth curves and tawny skin, Lizzy reminded Sam of one of those really beautiful muscle cars. Tonight she was wearing a bronze-colored cocktail dress with one strap and heels that were taller than Charlie.
    “Finally,” Ruanna said, sounding a little relieved. She could be a mother hen about her friends. “I’ve barely seen her all night.”
    Spotting them, Lizzy took the arm of the man beside her and guided him over to Sam and Ruanna. The guy was a little scrawny, but he was decent-looking in a “nerd cleans up good” kind of way. Sam chided herself for thinking in superficial LA terms again.
    “Hey, you two,” Lizzy said cheerfully. “This is my new friend, Henry. He does educational programs at some of the LA schools, and we’re both members of Protect America’s Wolves.”
    With a wide smile, the man extended his hand to Sam. “Henry Remus. It’s so nice to meet you.” His voice was unnaturally high, like he was doing an impression of a ditzy woman. She took the proffered hand, just barely managing not to wince at the limp, damp grip that set off an immediate pang of dislike. That smile was too wide, and his eyes were a little too eager. Crazy eyes , Sam thought, then immediately felt guilty. So what if the guy was a little socially awkward , she told herself. His money would spend the same as anyone else’s.
    “Lizzy here tells me you guys are starting up an app,” Remus said in his high voice. “I just love animals. Canines especially.” He smiled again, and this time there was a glimmer of self-satisfaction to it, like he’d told a private joke. Remus added, “You