by Penny Knight
“Where is she?” I heard them say. They were getting closer. Three men entered my room.
The small breaks in the vent made it hard to see their faces. I sat there quiet and still. I had practice.
They looked behind the door, under my bed, anywhere they thought I would be hiding. Angry, the tall one with long dark hair took his hand and smashed my house. The sticks broke apart, shattered as the house crumbled to the floor along with my young wounded heart. Before he left, he swiped the only picture of my mother and me.
I stayed in the vent for hours on end, sobbing silently. The day had passed, then the night. It was the next morning when I found the courage to crawl out. I ran straight to the back door in our kitchen. I ran for what felt like hours from the back of our property. I did not stop, I did not look back, the thought of the men chasing me fuelled me to keep going. Until I landed on the doorstep of the Gottschalk family.
“I remember,” I sit straighter. “I don’t know who they were though.”
“You came to my sister, you were frightened. She had noticed the mark on your neck. We both decided to send you to me, where I could look out for you, protect you,” she says.
I am feeling numb, listening.
“Our family, I..” She swallows hard. “Elita, We are what some people might call witches.” Her eyes land on me for my reaction.
“Witches?” I ask dumbly. I heard her. But really, witches? I’m no longer going to say it isn’t possible. I can hear people’s fucking thoughts. Why wouldn’t the woman who raised me be a witch? How could I not have known? She has kept so much from me.
“Yes, we practice the art of magic. We use it to protect us from the dark, the evil in the world. It is our gift, and it runs in our blood. That is why you cannot hear me,” she says. “I have cast a shield around me, to protect my thoughts.”
“How did you know I even could?” I ask. That has been bugging me ever since I first arrived here.
“My sister, her granddaughter Evie, she has visions, too. Evie had seen it happening. She told us the change had taken place. Your magic, your gift has come to life.”
“How?” That still didn’t answer how or why it happened.
“There is much we don’t know about you. For years you were with me and there was nothing. Nothing to show us that there was anything to fear, nothing supernatural about you. That’s why it was safe for you to leave.” Her eyes settle on me. “What happened my dear? Something must have triggered the change.”
My dream. I have thought a lot about it this morning and on the drive here. I know Leo affected me, caused me the intense pain, but it was my dream, the little girl that gave me the gift, so to speak.
“I’m not sure. I had a dream.” I tell Franziska about my dreams I was having, the little girl and what happened. I leave out Leo, there’s something inside saying that I should keep that to myself.
“There are things in this world, Elita. They are dark and sinister.” Ok, I’m thinking that is true.
“I have something for you. Wait, I will get it for you,” she says as she leaves the room.
I feel as though she is holding back. This is the first time I have wanted to jump into someone’s mind and find what I am looking for. There is something she isn’t saying, and that’s what I wonder all the way home. I clench the amulet hanging from my neck she gave me. Leaving the place, I had felt most safe as a child. But now filled with trepidation as it hits me. I have been purposefully left in the dark by someone I had trusted. Let down. Again.
“A witch?” Topher scoffs. Sitting in our small office at work I play with the new amulet around my neck that Franziska had given me.
“That’s what she said.” I shrug. As crazy as it sounds, the truth is I’m realising I know nothing.
“Okay, a witch.” He takes a deep breath as it sinks in. “And that necklace stops you from hearing everyone’s thoughts?” He looks at it with disdain.
“Yeah, she says that the amulet is charmed and it will give a barrier between me and others’ minds.” My eyes are fixed on the black obsidian crystal in the centre.
“I can still hear,” I say. “But it will help me learn to control it, or so she says.” I tear my eyes away and look up to Topher, letting the long gold chain fall down as the black crystal hangs low.
“This is all so crazy,” he says as he runs both hands through his hair.
“Yep,” I agree. “She says not to tell anyone about my gift. If you could call it that. She says to go about my life as normal and she will try to get more information about what’s happened to me. Normal? There is nothing normal about my life at the moment. How the hell am I meant to do that?”
Topher lets out a chuckle.
“You, sit back and wait for information?” He shakes his head, eyes twinkling. “It’s like she doesn’t know you at all.” He smiles and I smirk. “What have you got planned?”
“I don’t know yet.” I lean back in my chair. Topher knows me like the back of his hand. “I think I am still processing, but there is no way I’m just gonna not look for answers.”
“We,” he says.
“Huh?”
“There is no way we will not look for answers. You know I’m right here with you.”
“I know,” I say. “But, it’s just all so crazy. I don’t want you to have to deal with all this, too.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve always been crazy, sunshine. I haven’t run yet. And if I was going to, it would have been when Jake dumped me and you turned into a deranged, scorned woman.”
“Tsk, deranged. I was not that bad.” He has a flare for dramatics. His eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “Fine, ok. But he deserved it. You know he did.”
He laughs and nods in agreement as the door swings open to our shared room.
“In my office,” Tony sticks his trimmed buzz cut head in and demands then storms.
“Well then,” Topher stands, “guess it’s time to work. That should get your mind off this for a bit while you get your bearings.”
Nodding, I follow him out. He’s right, this is what I need. Tony giving us a new assignment will help get my head straight, then I know I will figure out the way forward with my newfound ability.
I have sat in this office many times, so I know it well. The mess of papers and files that line the desk, gives me a higher level of anxiety just being surrounded by this chaos he calls his office. I have no idea how he can function with it.
He shuffles through the papers with intent, looking for what I would assume would be our assignment. See, this is why he should let me organise his damn desk and filing structure so we wouldn’t be sitting here waiting.
I bump Topher’s shoulder. “Stop biting your nails.”
He groans but moves his fingers from his mouth.
“Aha!” Tony pulls the right file and clears his throat. This is the sign the Lieutenant is about to come out. Which means Topher and I sit straighter.
“Missing Persons. Patrick Goodings. He is a computer programmer for CTI, Cyber Threat Intelligence-”
“So he’s a hacker,” Topher deduces and sits back like he has just cracked the case.
“He went missing three days ago,” Tony continues as if he was never interrupted. I catch Topher smiling from the corner of my eye. I know how much Topher loves to get at him. “He left work at five-thirty but never arrived home. This is just an information grab. We are only required to get into his home and copy the contents on his hard drive. Undetected,” he finishes, looking at Topher to drill it home.
“So, a little B&E and theft, okay,” I say. Sometimes there are things about this job that don’t sit right, but I guess it’s all part of the game.
“Listen, my sources say the house will fall under police investigation by tomorrow. They will have surveillance 24/7, so we only have one shot, tonight.” He looks back at Topher and continues, “I would assume he would have security in place to protect his data. Do and take what you need. This is a big commission if we get the informat
ion.”
He leans across the large mahogany desk, handing the file to me. I take the blue manila folder and open it. There is a picture of a heavy-set older male. It looks as though it’s from his security picture at work. Below is the usual information: name, date of birth, address, contact details, whatever was given to us by whoever has hired our service.
“Bring the data back to me when you get it.” I look up to see if there is anything more we need to know. “That’s it,” he grunts, nodding at the door. Straight to the point.
Tony is not the type for menial chit chat. He runs this business like a dictatorship. Sometimes it pisses me off, but it kind of reminds me of Franziska and how she raised me, so it’s more comforting and safe.
We jump out of our chairs and hustle to the door. There’s always a chance that he is going to chew our ear off about something. Just another habit we have formed trying to be the first one out the door and pretending to be out of earshot in case he remembers something.
Topher beats me this time.
“Wait, Elita,” Tony barks.
Shit. I drop my head before I turn in anticipation and hear Topher gloat while running down the hall, like a scared little mouse. I stick my tongue out at him. What can I say? He brings out the child in me.
With resignation, I slump my shoulders and turn, smiling sweetly at him. Sometimes this works.
“Listen, I want to make sure you were ok. Are you feeling better?” I can see the concern in his eyes, it touches a place in my heart very few can reach. He cares about me no matter how much he tries to hide it.
He was my trainer, after I spent weeks and weeks convincing him how much he needed me on his team, even though for him it was a one-man operation. I was a nineteen-year-old girl who didn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, I convinced him how dedicated I was, then he spent years training me. We may not have a relationship where we talked about our feelings, life or anything deep, but that wasn’t me and I’m so glad it wasn’t him, either. The bond was there, and I liked it.
“Yes, thanks, much better.” I answer with a smile.
“Good,” he says moving his attention to his computer screen. “Now, get out of my office.”
The house at Magill east of the city is surrounded by six-foot hedged fences. The single-story house was hidden from the street. Once we breach the gate, we will be hidden from view, perfect. We make it through the high fencing and walk down the paved driveway. It was a breeze, especially knowing Topher was jamming any electrical signals. Bye-bye surveillance cameras.
Once we get to the black front door, I give it a knock as I ring the doorbell. I don’t want to be caught red-handed breaking in. Better to know if anyone was home. From the subject’s social media, he did not appear to be in a relationship, or have children or dogs, thank God.
No answer. I look to Topher to confirm we are all good to go, and he nods in response. I use two thin silver pins to unlock the door, but stop and look up at Topher.
“Hey, wait,” I whisper.
He ducks and looks around the perimeter before settling his panicked eyes on me. “What? What?”
“I think I should take this off and read your mind.” I hold up my necklace. “It would be so much easier to communicate,” I say like it’s an epiphany.
“Oh. My. God!” He bends down closer to my hunched level and hisses, “Are you serious?” He looks aghast. “I thought that someone was here.”
“What?” I screw up my face then shake my head, getting back on the job. “Of course not. Bloody hell McGee, our code word is Lannister, remember? You picked it,” I whisper back.
“Well, I don’t know.” He stands and looks around. “Shit has been pretty weird lately.” Well, I can’t argue there. “And no, you in my head right now. No way, Jose.” Well, I can’t argue with him there, either.
I return to business and hear the familiar click as I manage to get the door open. I would always be grateful to Mark, our old locksmith, for teaching me this trick. Thank you, PI Bootcamp.
Topher lets out a quiet whistle and whispers, “Not bad for a software programmer,” as we step into the entrance of the house. Dark wooden floorboards line the hall with abstract paintings lit up. “I’m in the wrong job.”
“I told you so,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ve been over it hundreds of times.” Topher is brilliant and I am always trying to push him to go further, but he loves this job, so he says.
“Ok, let’s get this going.” I can see doors along the hallway. “He must have an office.”
We don’t have to go far, the third door we come to is a small office. It’s small and, for a computer programmer, uncharacteristically clean. Topher’s room at the warehouse was a nightmare. There were computers, monitors, spare parts, empty energy drinks, crap everywhere. This room is pristine, with artwork hanging from the wall in front of a large, solid pine desk with only one monitor, keyboard and mouse.
Topher sits down in the leather chair. “Here goes,” he says and boots the hard drive which he finds in a partition under the desk and the monitor comes to life. “Of course, there’s a password.” He smiles as he cracks his knuckles, then reaches into his satchel for a USB and plugs it in. “Won’t be long.” Who knows what he’s actually doing, but I know he will get it done.
There’s still an uneasy feeling about this whole room. It feels way too easy and so bare. Our mission is to just get the data off the computer, but I still feel like there is more to the story here.
“I’m in,” Topher announces.
“Really?” I ask, surprised. “That was easy.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “I’m downloading now.”
I walk towards the window and look through, checking the surroundings. Then move my attention back inside. That’s when I and notice cables running from the computer into a small wooden box on the floor behind the desk. Bending down, I open the lid and see the green lights flashing brightly on the router.
“There are two lights,” I announce.
“Huh?” He leans back in the chair and tilts his head to see. “Oh, good work E. There is another computer on the network somewhere.”
“Finish up here and I will look around.”
"We have a problem," Broderick announces with his usual grim tone.
"We always have a problem," I say as I lift my Masamune sword from its holder.
My life is a series of problems. Every day, all day. I have been restless ever since I saw her, anxiously waiting for what's coming next. Hence why I am in my war room, polishing my collection of swords and weapons. Each artifact taking me back to the battlefield. This calms me, soothes my soul, if I still even have one.
"It's Elita," he says. I pause, my white cloth mid-length of this magnificent creation.
"Yes?" I say, giving him my full attention.
He clears his throat. "We have word. Her firm has been hired to look into the disappearance of the programmer."
"What?" My jaw clenches and my shoulders tense.
"Yes. That is what I have been told." Broderick can sense my mood. "Do you want me to go out and monitor her?" He knows me too well.
"Just you. Keep me informed." We had gathered intelligence on her and learned she was a private investigator, the earpiece making sense, along with her behaviour. To a point. But this assignment is too dangerous for her. And who is behind it?
"I will head out once the sun sets," he says, and I nod in response. Then disappears through the steel doors.
I place the sword back on its holder, knowing I won't be able to commit to the polishing it deserves when all I can think of is her.
There are mountains of work I need to attend to. The Uprising and tensions in Europe most present, but there is nothing more important than the woman who escaped my watch.
It must be because I'm thrown. I brought this team together for what I had believed to be a base for another fruitless Venus Eclipse coming and going. Waiting for my mate to present itself so finally I can prod
uce an heir. This is the time we usually spend training. And I contemplate how it's still possible for me to feel disappointment every time I leave alone. And once the eclipse is over and my opportunity crushed just like it had previously in the two thousand years, I go back to my lonely existence. Just that bit more bitter.
Until now.
Real hope has been placed right in my lap. But I still cannot know for sure. The current is electric, the excitement palpable. But I will have to keep it close and internal to the inner sanctions of my men.
The fewer people know the better.
I need to find a way to get her back to the hotel.
It comes just as I have finished changing. The message notification on my phone pings.
Broderick: Ran in to trouble. Girl is fine. What do you want me to do?
I don't hesitate as I respond.
Leo: Bring her to the hotel.
I will have to watch intently. From what I heard when I was waiting outside her room, she had woken to being able to hear her friend's thoughts. The thoughts of charlatans and frauds are not far off. I cannot disregard a planted fraud.
I have not met one person yet that has a real gift of hearing the thoughts of others or reading minds. Any claims to supernatural I would be briefed on.
Normally all they do is use well-trained techniques at implanting information in the victim to convince them of their power. Trickery and mind control are all it is. And there is one reason it's insidious spread has wreaked havoc on the humans.
The Lord of the Uprising. Cyrus.
He will use any tactic he can for any advantage. Controlling the minds of many to aide in his bidding. Criminally, politically but ultimately for his own desire and greed.
If Elita Machiavelli can truly hear the thoughts of others, then she is the true bearer of the Mark of Omni. That means after two thousand years, there's a real chance I can imagine a new future for myself. One not filled with the weight of humanity, sole responsibility, and possibly not filled alone and unloved.
