The Gathering

by Fiore, L. A.

  My focus shifted to Dr. Ellis. He moved through the halls like a king. The thought irritated as well as disturbed me. I got the sense he was more dictator than doctor, and his patients were his minions.

  We detoured to the cafeteria. There was a fight between several of the patients and those not fighting, or completely zoned out, were cheering on the combatants. What was interesting was the doctor’s reaction. He didn’t attempt to break it up, to calm the others, his focus moved around the room until it landed on a woman with pale skin and pitch-black hair that was pulled up into a knot on the top of her head. Unlike everyone else in that cafeteria, she was calm, almost serene, as she ate her dinner. Had it not been for the gray scrubs she wore, I wouldn’t have pegged her for a patient.

  What sounded like a death cry came from one of the patients in the tangle of bodies.

  “Oh no,” Dr. Ellis said, turning my attention to the woman.

  She’d heard the death cry too, her focus now on the fight. The two were getting their asses handed to them.

  “She wouldn’t,” Dr. Ellis said, but his tone suggested that he didn’t believe what he was saying.

  As if she’d heard him, the woman stood and started toward the fight, grabbing a tray on her way. She went to the largest of the group and kicked out his knees, and when he whirled around, he came face to face with the metal tray. I heard his nose break from where I stood. She kicked him in the balls. Cyril and I both flinched.

  That orderly rushed in. I saw a syringe right before the woman dropped to the floor.

  What the fuck? “What did they give her?” I demanded.

  “Just something to sedate her. It’s protocol.” He turned those smug eyes on me. “She’s a sociopath. Very unpredictable.”

  Protocol? They were fighting before she even got involved. Why the fuck didn’t they drug the others? A sickening sensation twisted in my gut before I asked, “That’s Ivy Blackwood, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and unfortunately, she isn’t going to be up for talking.”

  Had he drugged her to keep her from me? What the fuck? “I’d like to hear that from her.”

  “I’m her doctor.”

  “And I’m the sheriff and can have a team of forensic accountants in here with just one phone call. If even one decimal is out of place, I will have this place shut down, and you brought up on charges of fraud, criminal negligence, and criminal recklessness to name a few.”

  On the surface Dr. Ellis was courteous, but that didn’t run very deep. He was pissed, but he was also arrogant. This was his kingdom and all those in it were under his thumb. He had her right where he wanted her. That didn’t sit right with me either. “All right. I’ll make sure she’s able to talk.”

  “You do that. We’ll be back in an hour.”

  He showed us to the door. Cyril waited until we were outside. “Protocol my ass. They didn’t step in when the others were fighting, and they only drugged her. Why?”

  “No idea.”

  “That Dr. Ellis is hiding something.”

  My focus shifted to Cyril. “You picked up on that too.”

  “From what I just saw in there, the sociopath diagnosis is bullshit. She stepped into that fight to even the odds.”

  I’d been thinking that same very thing.

  After dinner, we returned to Misty Vale. There were no cars in the parking lot, strange considering visiting hours were until eight, and most people visited after work. And that coupled with the place looking as it did had the hair at my nape standing on end.

  I parked and shut off the engine. “When we get back, I want you to get someone to look into Misty Vale, and I want everything you can find on Dr. Ellis, a full dossier.”

  Cyril reached for the door when he asked, “You don’t like him either.”

  “He’s basically unchecked here. That kind of unlimited power can be dangerous, especially when the ones you are treating aren’t able to speak up for themselves. That shit earlier with Miss Blackwood was wrong.”

  “I agree. I’ll get Nick on it.”

  Nick. That was a good idea. Kid could use something mundane after the last shit he’d uncovered. “All right, let’s do this.”

  A nurse escorted us to Dr. Ellis’ office. Miss Blackwood was already sitting on a sofa in front of the fireplace, Dr. Ellis across from her. He stood when we entered. “I hope you enjoyed your dinner.”

  Ivy Blackwood looked up when we stepped into view. Her eyes were light purple, the most unusual color and oddly familiar.

  “Ivy, this is Josiah Abiviny and his deputy Cyril Gaudet.”

  She didn’t offer her hand, didn’t say hi, just watched us almost like she was seeing through us.

  “I’m not sure she’ll be much help,” Dr. Ellis offered before taking his chair. He’d made sure of that when he drugged her. What was he afraid of? “Ivy, these men would like to ask you a few questions.” He sounded smug, crossing his legs like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  She didn’t acknowledge him and had I not seen her in the cafeteria, I would have believed her diagnosis, but this Ivy Blackwood was not the same woman from earlier. I was sure it was because of whatever he’d injected her with.

  “I’m Josiah. It’s nice to meet you.” I held out my hand to her, her gaze moved to my arm and the tattoo. It felt like someone walked over my grave, but fucking hell, she recognized it. Any doubts, though they were slim, that she wasn’t involved in this went out the window. I was seriously getting a fucking stone from Cyril’s grandmamma.

  Her demeanor completely changed, her eyes lifted to me, and I was hit hard with déjà vu. I should just accept that there were powers at work here that I didn’t understand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her focus shifted to Cyril. “And you, Mr. Gaudet.”

  “Do you know why you’re here?” I asked her.

  “I’m a sociopath.”

  She wasn’t, but she was something Ellis didn’t want out in the world. I was beginning to sound more like Cyril, but there was more going on here than met the eye.

  “How long have you been here?”

  “A long time, over two decades.” She twisted her fingers together. “You are my first visitors.”

  She was sent here as a child. How the hell had that happened? What court would have sentenced a child to a place like this? I wasn’t sure how to tactfully ask her what I needed to. I took out my phone, had copies of the photos taken of her as a child.

  “What are you showing her?” Dr. Ellis snapped.

  “Official police photos from when she was a child.”

  Her eyes lit up. “You have pictures of me?”

  Ellis looked pissed. Now that was interesting. Why the hell did he care if I showed her pictures from her past? Surely, she knew about her past, knew why she was sent here. “I’m not sure about this,” Ellis said.

  I held the doctor’s glare. “I’m not asking.”

  An odd charge sizzled the air, enough that the hair on my arms stirred. Ellis then stood. “Thank you for coming. My orderly will show you out. I hope you learned what you needed.”

  Cyril looked how I felt. What in the loving hell was going on here? “I’m not done yet.”

  Ellis was shocked and surprised, baffled that I wasn’t moving. Had he just tried to Jedi Mind trick me?

  “I don’t think it is good for her to see images she doesn’t remember. It could cause more harm than good.” He was downright frosty now.

  “I want to see them.” Miss Blackwood’s voice was soft but determined. Turning my attention back on her, I handed her the phone. She studied it for a second, not the pictures but the phone.

  “Have you never seen a cell phone?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Is that what it is, a phone? It’s incredible.”

  I understood segregation, but isolation from the world seemed drastic. My cop intuition was on fire. Something was definitely not right here.

  Her focus shifted to the image, her hand immediately moving to her throat. There wasn’t fea
r in her expression. “This is me?”

  “Yes. That same night you allegedly burned your foster parents’ home to the ground. They were in it.”

  Her hand shook; I could feel her pulling into herself. She glanced over at Ellis and I swear there was anger in her. Why? “I don’t remember that.”

  “Do you remember anything at all about that night?”

  She didn’t answer right away; she really was trying to remember. “No.” She followed the claw marks. “What made this?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “I think we’re done here.” Dr. Ellis announced again. He sounded more than irritated. He sounded scared. What the hell was going on here?

  Ivy ignored him. “Why are you looking into this now? That happened so long ago.”

  “A case we’re working. There are some similarities.”

  Fear came from her, her focus moving from the phone to my tattoo.

  “Do you know what this is?” I asked her, referring to my tattoo.

  “No.” And yet I had the distinct impression she was only saying that. Her focus shifted to Ellis who was growing more and more uptight. She sensed it too, when she changed the subject. Sociopath, my ass. “Do you live in the city?” she asked. There was true excitement in her voice.

  Who was she? What was her story? And what the hell was Ellis so worried about? I intended to find out. For now, I answered her question. “Yes, I do.”

  “What’s it like?”

  It was a simple question, but not from her point of view. A vibrant city was just outside these walls, and she had never experienced it. “It’s Mardi Gras right now so it’s crazy…tons of people out and about at night, lots of drinking, lots of dancing in the streets. Many of the houses are decorated with beads and banners of purple, gold, and green.”

  “And they use those colors because they represent justice, power, and faith.” She looked proud of herself for knowing that.

  “Yes, exactly. There’ll be parades. People will attempt pretty much anything during Mardi Gras. As you can imagine, it’s not my favorite time in the city.”

  She smiled. “No, I don’t suppose it is.” Her focus shifted to Cyril, her expression changing slightly. “What is that?”

  Cyril touched his necklace. “A tiger’s eye.”

  “What’s it for?”

  There was the slightest hesitation before he answered, “Protection.”

  “From what?”

  “Evil.”

  Her focus shifted behind us, the intensity of her expression had me following her stare to that orderly Bart. I hadn’t even heard him enter.

  She then said, “I’m aware of that.”

  Cyril and I shared a glance because no one had said anything.

  She continued, “Yes, I know. You aren’t helping with that. What do you mean what’s that supposed to mean? I’m talking to you, what do you think they’re thinking now?” It was the first time she showed the emotion she was feeling. She was annoyed. It was also the first sign that perhaps she really did belong here. “Yes, well thank you for that.”

  “Are you okay?” Cyril asked, his hand moving to his stone again.

  Ivy Blackwood saw the action, a smile spread over her face. “You are wise to wear that, Mr. Gaudet, but I’m not the one you need protection from.”

  Ivy

  Dr. Ellis walked with me to his office. “How are you feeling?”

  I was still a little shaken from the vision and more from the reality that my doctor had drugged my food. Why the hell had he done that? I’d ask him, but I was beginning to see what I hadn’t before. My best interests were not in his. “I’m okay.”

  “If it gets too much, I’ll stop it.”

  Was that what the drugs had been about? Did he not want me talking to the sheriff? If so, why had he allowed the visit? Something was off, but my head was too muddled to think clearly.

  In his office, I waited as my stomach jumped with nerves. I felt my visitors before they entered the room. They were determined. I felt annoyance and fear too. As an outsider, I could understand the fear. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the two that walked into Dr. Ellis’ office. The sheriff was an older man with tall, strong features. Dark hair that was turning gray and the bluest blue eyes. Confidence and power came off him, and suspicion, a healthy dose of suspicion. The other man had skin the color of a rich cup of coffee, but his eyes were the palest green. He was wide in the shoulders and chest, looking more like a sportsman than a cop. The fear came from him. Not general fear, but something deeper.

  The sheriff reached his hand out to me and my breath caught in my lungs because inked on his skin was the very image I had drawn that afternoon. My eyes lifted to his. It wasn’t a coincidence. Who was the sheriff and why did his presence worry Dr. Ellis?

  “Do you know why you’re here?” he asked.

  “I’m a sociopath.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “A long time, over two decades.” I twisted my fingers together. “You are my first visitors.”

  He took out a small device. I felt Dr. Ellis’ impatience before he snapped. “What are you showing her?”

  “Official police photos from when she was a child.”

  “You have pictures of me?”

  Dr. Ellis didn’t want me to see the pictures. Why? “I’m not sure about this.”

  Sheriff Abiviny was not intimidated. “I’m not asking.”

  If Dr. Ellis didn’t want me knowing of my past, why had he allowed the sheriff to visit?

  Something stirred, my attention shifting to Dr. Ellis. It was more than impatience in him; there was fury and under that was fear. A pulse of power charged the air…magic. How did I know it was magic? I just did. He stood. “Thank you for coming. My orderly will show you out. I hope you learned what you needed.”

  Turning my attention to the sheriff and his deputy, they weren’t affected. They were staring at Dr. Ellis like he was nuts. The sheriff was annoyed when he said, “I’m not done yet.”

  “I don’t think it is good for her to see images she doesn’t remember. It could cause more harm than good.” Dr. Ellis was scared. Why?

  “I want to see them.” And I did. They were a part of my past. I had every right to see them. The sheriff handed me the device, and I studied it for a minute because it was amazing.

  “Have you never seen a cell phone?” he asked.

  “Is that what it is, a phone? It’s incredible.” I looked then at the picture, my hand moved to my throat where there had once been marks…gashes. “This is me?”

  “Yes. That same night you allegedly burned your foster parents’ home to the ground. They were in it.”

  Dr. Ellis had shared as much, but again, I had to wonder why he’d never shared sooner that piece of my past, but did so rather easily when learning the sheriff was visiting…a visit Dr. Ellis approved. To the sheriff I said, “I don’t remember that.”

  “Do you remember anything at all about that night?”

  I tried to open the door that was blocking my memories, but I couldn’t. “No.” I followed the claw marks. “What made this?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “I think we’re done here,” Dr. Ellis said again.

  I ignored him. “Why are you looking into this now? That happened so long ago.”

  “A case we’re working. There are some similarities.”

  Was it a coincidence that I felt something coming, something ugly? That the man who came to see me carried a symbol I didn’t remember but knew was important.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked me of his tattoo.

  I wanted to share that I drew that symbol, believed it was important, but I felt Dr. Ellis tense at my side, so instead I said, “No.” I changed the subject. “Do you live in the city?”

  He didn’t answer right away. He was curious about me. I was curious about him. “Yes, I do.”

  “What’s it like?”

  “It’s Mardi Gr
as right now, so it’s crazy…tons of people out and about at night, lots of drinking, lots of dancing in the streets. Many of the houses are decorated with beads and banners of purple, gold and green.”

  “And they use those colors because they represent justice, power and faith.” I read that in the book. The book…what book? That door in my head cracked open a little.

  “Yes, exactly. There’ll be parades. People will attempt pretty much anything during Mardi Gras. As you can imagine, it’s not my favorite time in the city.”

  “No I don’t suppose it is.” My attention shifted to the stone the deputy wore around his neck. “What is that?”

  “He touched his necklace. “A tiger’s eye.”

  “What’s it for?”

  There was a pause before he revealed, “Protection.”

  “From what?”

  “Evil.”

  A voice, one that though familiar still surprised me, encouraged, “You need to remember, Ivy. These men can help you.”

  Even feeling off balance I replied, “I’m aware of that.”

  “You can trust them,” he urged.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “They don’t think you’re crazy.”

  “You’re not helping with that,” I hissed because the voice in my head that I insisted on talking to was undermining that.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He had the nerve to sound indignant.

  “What do you mean what’s that supposed to mean? I’m talking to you, what do you think they’re thinking now?”

  “Fine, I’ll shut up.”

  “Yes, well thank you for that.”

  “Are you okay?” the deputy asked as he palmed his stone. Fear and concern warred inside him. He believed because he could sense it, could feel the pull from evil. It was growing stronger every day.

  I tried to put him at ease when I smiled because I knew my next words were going to freak him out. “You are wise to wear that, Mr. Gaudet, but I’m not the one you need protection from.”

  In my room that night, Mouse greeted me. He hadn’t left. I wasn’t sure why he lingered, but I liked the company.