The blood-tinged breeze stirred waves in Jay Andrews’ tattered, black cape. A colt .45 snug in a holster rattled at his hip. A storm was approaching – one of legend – and he still had Lovelace to deal with.
“So, you gonna shoot me, or wait for a twister to put an end to the both of us?” Lovelace stood opposite Jay, his figure hidden inside a ragged cloak. The villain’s finger outlined the jeweled hilt of a dagger concealed in his back pocket. It would only take a second before he could pin Jay with the blade, but Lovelace had always been one for a gripping conversation
Jay gripped the pistol, and took aim. He wanted so badly to simply pull the trigger and kill the criminal once and for all; this was a day he dreamed of since he took the oath seventeen years ago. However, he felt his grasp loosen and his motivation plunge. The gunslinger could not understand the feeling that he had for Lovelace; he felt it for wife Cora and Max, his son, but never could he imagine having it for his enemy. Regardless, Jay was overwhelmed. “What have you done to me?” he demanded, remembering that Lovelace is no stranger to magic.
Lovelace grinned, his teeth as gray as the storm clouds hovering above. “I assure you, my friend, whatever is bothering you I had nothing to do with. But I would love for you to explain what your experiencing.”
Jay was too distracted with what he was seeing, to reply. He noted the sorcerer’s sharp jawline and impeccably pursed lips. He followed the drops of sweat down Lovelace’s neck, disappearing in the cloak. The cloth stuck to Lovelace’s sweaty form, and suddenly Jay felt a rise in his trousers. “Fuck! What have you done to me?” he yelled, hiding his eyes behind his hands. The sharpshooter fell to his knees, as lightning cracked the sky.
“I’ve seen that look before; the glimmer in those eyes is Sybil’s handiwork. She’s known to bring armies against one another over a simple kiss on the cheek.” Lovelace’s cackle deafens the rolling thunder overhead. “The great Jay Andrews is lovesick over Lovelace! Oh, Sybil, you’ve really done it this time.”
“Reverse it, please!” Jay begged, unhinging. “I’ve got a wife and son for fuck’s sake! I have so much left to teach Max, and how could I ever be a father with these feelings for a man! It’s unnatural and sickening – it’s magic!” He stood, revealing his tenting trousers. “Do this for me, and I’ll let you go; I swear.”
Shaking his head, Lovelace turned his back toward the once powerful gunslinger. “Naw, this is too good. I’ll leave you to find a way to relieve yourself of this torture. However that may be.” He winked.
“Lovelace, please!” Jay Andrews watched his enemy walk away, finding himself focused on the assassin’s back end more so than of a plan to kill Sybil. Jay had more of a tower than a tent by the time the rain started.