From the Ashes: A Psychic Visions Novel

by Dale Mayer

  “And where would he keep those?”

  She turned to look at him. “In the basement. With Uncle.” She clapped a hand over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the two men. “He was always there too. He was Father’s brother.”

  *

  “I think you should go find the bomb shelter,” Rowan said after they’d spent an hour going over and over the details. “Things are bad here. And you’re injured, but there is no reason you can’t fly now or in a day or two. Go sort this out. So that you’ll be a whole human at the end of the day.”

  She looked at him and said, “Only if you come.”

  He raised his eyebrows at that. “I have a job here,” he said gently.

  “Yes, you do,” she said. “But you’re not alone. And other people can take your job for a few days.”

  “A few days?”

  She shrugged. “You know as well as I do that whatever is going on affects both of us. And I think it affected both of us from back when I was a child.”

  “I’m not part of your childhood,” he said. “Grayse is.”

  “But I don’t think it can be separated now.” At least she didn’t think it could.

  “Why?” Rowan asked in confusion. “I don’t have any of the abilities you do.”

  “That’s not true,” she said. “You’re keeping your chief of police alive, aren’t you?”

  Those words were like a soft punch to his stomach. His breath whooshed out, and he sagged on the couch, staring at her. “No, I’m not,” he denied. Then he groaned, adding, “Maybe a little.” He turned to look at Grayse. “My boss shot himself in the head,” he said. “He’s been in a coma ever since.”

  Grayse nodded. “An awful lot of psychic energy is happening here,” he said. “Some of it is pretty ugly.”

  “Suicide season,” Rowan said, his voice harsh. “As soon as the lava starts flowing every spring, we end up with people coming to commit suicide.”

  “Maybe the energy is attracting people of that mind-set,” she said, looking at Grayse. “Is there anything we can do to stop that?”

  He raised an eyebrow as he repeated, “We?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve been doing this stuff all my life. Rowan has too, to a certain extent. But let me explain what’s happened since I arrived here.”

  She told Grayse everything that had gone on since her arrival. “None of this is normal,” she admitted. “I just came to throw that letter into the lava. I wanted a new beginning. A new start. I wanted a chance to get rid of the only thing I was given by my father.”

  “There has to be other ways to destroy it than coming all the way here.”

  “My father was from here,” she said quietly. “He said the paper itself was from here. And, if you think I haven’t tried to destroy it, you’re wrong. I’ve tried to burn it. I’ve put all kinds of things on it, like acid, vinegar. I’ve held it over open flames on a stove, and nothing ever, ever touches it. The only thing I could figure to do was to throw it in the lava and let the lava consume it. If, by chance, it was not destroyed, the lava would take it into the bowels of its fire, and nobody else would get a hold of it.”

  “So, was this just a symbolic gesture for you?” Grayse asked. “Or is there more to it?”

  “It was important to my father,” she admitted. “Another reason I want to destroy it. Like he tried to destroy me.”

  “Why did he give it back to you?”

  “He said I was the only one strong enough to wield it. I figured that meant I was the only one strong enough to destroy it. And I thought we did, but …” She explained what happened earlier, when they wrapped it around a rock, only to find it in her purse after she’d been shot.

  “Interesting,” Grayse said. “Are you against going back to the US for a few days? I know it’s a long trip, but you only have to be there a day or two, three tops, and then come back here and take care of the letter.”

  “Or I take care of this first,” she said with a nod at the letter now in her hand. “And then I go home via that property.”

  “Do you think you can?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure. Do you think I have to put everything in my childhood to rest first? I’ve deliberately avoided going back to New Mexico. Since moving to Seattle, that’s been home. I can’t say I want to travel to the place of my nightmares.”

  Grayse nodded. “If there’s more to find on that property, then I think the answer to that question is yes. And then you can come back here to his hometown … and finish this off.” He looked over at Rowan. “Have you looked up her family tree?”

  “Yes,” Rowan replied. “I only found a grandfather and her father, both locals here. Her grandfather committed suicide in the lava way back when, and her father apparently went off his rocker. I didn’t find any mention of a brother. Her father disappeared from this area soon after his father’s death. As he’d been difficult to be around, the locals were happy to see him gone.”

  “And her mother?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to do any research into her mother’s side of the family yet.”

  “I hate unfinished business,” Grayse said. “It has a way of coming back and biting you in the ass.” He looked over at Phoenix. “Please do this in the right order. Let’s go back to the compound. Do what we need to do to close it all up, put an end to it. Then, if you still feel that strongly, you can come back here and put that piece of strange material, your letter, whatever you want to call it, in the lava. Where it can stay forever.”

  She nodded. “Fine, but I don’t want to be at the compound long. And I’m not going alone. I have enough nightmares. I’m either going with Rowan and you and anybody else who might need to come, or I’m not going at all.”

  Grayse nodded. “Done on my part. Rowan, what about you?”

  He groaned. “If you insist, but we have to be back here in five days. That’s all the time I can give to this.”

  “Done.” Grayse stood. “We’ll leave for the compound in the morning.”

  *

  The unusual energy brought the Supplier here. He sat outside Rowan’s house, just close enough to see the stranger arrive. Multiple energies circled the man’s head, as if he was in contact with many others at the same time. Interesting character. The Supplier mentally wondered if this was someone to look at closer, then decided the dangerous aura around him would be too much trouble.

  Rowan he knew well. But this new man was an unknown. Yet the two together spelled trouble. And the Supplier didn’t need anyone interfering in his plans at this late stage. The Elders were rumbling. The Supplier needed to give them their offering soon. He already knew she was no longer at the hospital. He’d gone to her hotel only to find she’d been checked out.

  That left Rowan’s house. And the Supplier had found her there.

  Chapter 20

  Once upstairs Rowan lowered Phoenix’s suitcase, opened the door to the left and showed her the room. “Hopefully this will be okay.”

  She raised her eyebrows and said, “It’ll be lovely. Thank you. Besides, it’s not the hospital.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “True, it’s not the hospital, but it might not be quite as comfortable as the hotel.”

  “Hotels aren’t comfortable. They’re temporary and completely miss out on being homey. This is a lovely home.” Her gaze swept the room, picking up on the hardwood floors, the beautiful four-poster bed and the fluffy down comforter. Even though it was summertime, she knew she could snuggle under that and sleep beautifully. Also a bathroom was attached. “This is really beautiful.”

  “Good,” he said. “I want you to feel at home.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Any chance of food?”

  “Yes. I had a stir fry in mind for my dinner tonight, so I’ve got that started already.” He walked across to the other door in the hallway and showed Grayse his room. She peered in. It was a more masculine version of her room.

  Grayse nodded and smiled. “Perfect, thanks.”


  The three trooped back downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Do you need me to run to the store?” Grayse asked.

  “If you’re okay with home-cooked food,” Rowan said, “we’re good.”

  “I prefer that,” Phoenix said quietly. Her arm, although in a sling, throbbed. She sat down quietly, holding her arm snug against her chest. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Rowan looked at her arm and said, “I’ll be fine.”

  “Even one-handed, I can probably do something to help,” she protested.

  “Then set the table.” He pointed to the large dining room table. At his direction about where to find everything, she managed to pull out the cutlery, placemats and even plates. She carried everything over a little at a time, using her good arm, and listened in on the conversation between Rowan and Grayse, discussing the energy of this town and if it was attracting the suicides to this location.

  As she came back to grab glasses and to fill them with water, she asked, “Is that what’s happening here? With suicide season?”

  “It’s possible,” Grayse said. “Negativity attracts negativity, so the issue, if left unchecked, grows.”

  “Right,” she said. When she came back for the third glass, Rowan had put vegetables into a frying pan with some cooked meat and was slowly adding a sauce. As she watched, he added a dash of red wine. The dish looked and smelled absolutely marvelous.

  At a beep behind her, he opened the rice cooker and pulled out a pan of something that smelled a little more aromatic than she expected.

  In another five minutes, everything was ready.

  During the meal the men kept up their conversation as she listened. She knew most of this, having studied it on her own. She’d never found anything about the healing arts at the level she operated at though. She kept hoping to learn more but figured she’d learn more by doing more.

  She’d also spent her professional life studying and teaching mythology, which covered a lot of this work anyway. In her research was a lot of data about using fire to cleanse, the sacrifices to honor the Ancient Ones and the gods, and of course the ferryman, who ferried the newly deceased from this life to the next. She’d always felt a kernel of truth lay behind the myths.

  While eating, she could feel fatigue setting in. The flavors were delicious, and the warm food was a comfort she hadn’t expected. Just knowing she was out of the hospital, not alone handling this, soothed her own nerves like never before.

  Only as she sat here, studying Rowan, did she realize how alone she’d been all her life. Nobody to help her as a child, and then, although her final foster parents had been marvelous, they’d also very much treated her like a foster child—almost like a project to take on and to improve, which, under their tutelage, she had done. There had been an affectionate air to it, but it hadn’t been loving. She didn’t really understand what a loving atmosphere even meant. She’d had several boyfriends, but she was just too odd for them to stick around long. She didn’t think she was odd, but she knew her upbringing had made her something others couldn’t really understand—except for maybe these two men at the table.

  Grayse frowned and asked, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and forked up the last of her dinner. “That was excellent,” she murmured quietly. “I hadn’t realized how tired I’m getting, though.”

  “The drugs are wearing off,” Rowan announced. “You’ll need pain pills before you crash.”

  “Only if it’s fast. I’ll crash soon,” she admitted.

  “We can arrange that,” Rowan said and looked to Grayse. “Do you want seconds?”

  “I’m good,” Grayse said, holding up his hands. “That was good though.”

  “It really was,” Phoenix said. “I can cook a few basics, but I’m no chef.”

  “Don’t have to be,” Rowan said. “Good hearty food is preferred over fancy gourmet food in my house.”

  “Haven’t had much of either,” she said. “The professors ate simple meals. They did go out a lot later on, though.”

  “How did you handle that?”

  “I stayed home mostly,” she said. “When I first joined them, we had meals all the time together. But I couldn’t eat much because of stress. I lost more weight while I adapted. When I calmed down and realized the whole compound was gone, and I wouldn’t have to go back, I settled into a better routine. We had dinner every night. I think more to give me stability. A routine they didn’t deter from until I was about fifteen, and then they started taking a few evenings away.”

  “Were you okay with that?”

  “Yes,” she said, “because, even though it was a good place for me, it wasn’t my place. Still felt like I was visiting, like I was a student being tutored. We worked on my education every night,” she admitted. “Always one or the other working on my studies with me.”

  “You’re lucky,” Grayse said. “Because, if you’d ended up in a different foster care family, you might have had someone who didn’t put any stock in education.”

  “I know,” she said with a smile. “But there was absolutely no misunderstanding that I was their adopted daughter. That separation remained between them and me. They were a pair, whereas I was a visitor. A project they were working on.”

  At that Rowan frowned at her.

  She shook her head. “No,” she said, “it was all good. Because I wasn’t ready to be a part of anything. I was disassociating from my past, my family, and I didn’t understand how my foster parents could be as nice and as kind as they were.” She smiled a self-deprecating smile. “I expected to be abused and tortured, so I eyed them with distrust for a long time. And I think they understood that. They didn’t know a lot of my history, but they knew enough that they moved slowly, didn’t make any sudden movements, never tried to hug me or grab me up and play with me,” she said with a half laugh. “I wasn’t exactly a child you could pick up and throw in the air.”

  “I’m sorry,” Grayse said. “I think those are milestones in every child’s life. Playtime is important.”

  “It is,” she said smoothly. “But I was thirsty for knowledge. I was thirsty for control and power that would allow me to never be in that victimized state again.”

  “I think you did well,” Rowan said. “I can’t imagine what you went through, but I can see who and what you’ve become through it all. You owe your foster parents a lot.”

  “I absolutely do,” she said.

  “Do you keep in touch with them?”

  “An email on birthdays is about all.” She chuckled at the look on their faces. “And I think that’s the way they like it too.”

  “Interesting,” Rowan said. “Any suggestion they had anything to do with the earlier part of your life?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t think they had anything to do with the cult. Maybe because they were as cool and detached as they could be,” she said, “made it the perfect relationship for me at the time.”

  “And what about any relationships since then?” Grayse asked curiously.

  “I tried to make friends,” she said. “I really did. I did the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing and the party thing, but I was always the duck out of water. I never really learned how to socialize easily. Not until I was older, and then people saw me less as odd and more as reserved. Of course seeing many sexual acts in my childhood … didn’t make for a healthy upbringing.”

  Grayse nodded. “Cults are known for that, unfortunately.”

  “I think they’re just an excuse for people to sexually abuse children,” Rowan said, his voice harsh. “In your case it was even so much worse than that.”

  “It was in many ways. The good news,” she added, “is I’m gone from there. And that stage of my life is well and truly over with.”

  “Thankfully,” he muttered. He collected her plate and said, “Let’s get you upstairs to bed.”

  “I think that would be a good idea,” she said as she slowly rose. The room swayed around her.

  “Whoa,
whoa,” Rowan said, grabbing her good arm.

  She shuddered as pain racked through her at the jolt. “Ouch.”

  “Yep, that’s the message I needed to hear,” he said. “Come on upstairs to bed.”

  “Says you,” she muttered.

  “Yep, says me,” he said, laughing. He led her upstairs, even offering to carry her.

  “I can walk just fine,” she said. “It’s my shoulder, not my legs.”

  “It’s your shoulder,” he said, “but it’s also a major wound.”

  “And yet it’s much better,” she said. “I think I’m just tired.”

  “I hear you, but that’s not enough for me. Take your medication and go to sleep.” In her room he pointed to the bag and asked, “What do you need out of there?”

  “My pajamas would be nice,” she said.

  He lifted the bag onto the bed, pulled out the items she needed, and then turned to look at her with a frown on his face. “Anything else I can do to help?”

  She could sense the intensity of his perusal. She shook her head and smiled. “I’ll brush my teeth, and that’s about it.”

  “And sleep,” he said.

  “Yep.” She chuckled. “I’ll probably need to take those pain pills though, like you suggested.”

  “They’re downstairs still,” he said. “Get changed and I’ll be back up in a minute.”

  “Will do,” she said as he disappeared. She took the opportunity to get out of her pants, but her shirt was harder to maneuver. She managed to get it off but couldn’t unhook her bra. She stepped into the pajama bottoms but was stuck standing here in a bra when she heard his footsteps. She called out, “I need a hand if you’ve got a moment.”

  “Sure,” he said, coming in with a glass and the pill bottle. He stepped up behind her, and she swept up her hair so he could access the bra strap. With that unclipped, he said, “Are you okay from here on in?”

  She nodded but kept her back toward him and slid the bra off her shoulders.

  He stayed behind her and helped her get her injured arm through the sleeve, then tugged it over her head. “Might have been better to sleep without your pajama top.”