Xenobia reaches out to take my hand. I can tell she is trying to make this as gentle as possible, which means I am not going to like what I am about to hear.
“He was shot.”
There is more to it, I sense it, but she isn’t going to say anything else, so I’m going to have to ask. “Why?” Before she can answer, there is a knock on the door. I assume it is the detective she mentioned. I’m pretty sure I’m about to get the whole story. All of a sudden I’m not sure I want to know.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Matt
After putting on the clothes they loaned me, I pace around Xenobia’s office. I need to go up and question Mercy, but I need to get my brain on board with it. Pissing of Xen has distracted me. Xen. Shit. Now I am giving her a nickname. Ok, Matt, pull yourself together. You’ve got business to deal with. Opening the door, I spot Sylvia waiting for me. She motions for me to follow her. Three flights of stairs later she points me to a closed door in the hallway, and then walks away. Ok, awkward. I guess I only have myself to blame. What was I thinking, shifting in Xenobia’s office on the spur of the moment? I didn’t even bring a change of clothes with me. Idiot.
I take a minute to collect my thoughts, get focused. I’m about to have to deal with a girl who was raped and lost her father. This is definitely not my favorite part of the job.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Xenobia
Saved by the knock! Although, maybe it would be better to hear the details from me since we’ve already established a bit of rapport. Too late now though, I guess. “Come in.”
When Matthew walks in, I notice that the clothing choices Sylvia made are spectacular. The man is eye candy. No time to ponder that though, I can’t afford anymore distraction. Besides, I’m still pissed at him for being a jackass earlier. After making the introductions, I rise to leave the room.
“Don’t be a jackass,” I whisper as I pass him.
“Wait,” Mercy says anxiously, “please don’t leave. I’d feel better if you stayed.”
Hearing the tension in her voice, I can’t help but stay. She’s been through so much, even if she doesn’t consciously remember it, I’m sure a part of her does on a deeper level.
“Are you ok?”
“I just don’t want to be left alone with him.”
I decide to sit next to her on the bed. Maybe my closeness will ease her even more. “Ok, detective, ask your questions.”
***
Matthew and I head back to my office after speaking with Mercy. The whole situation has worn her out, plus she needs time to process everything. Until she can get clear memories to surface, there isn’t much she can tell Matthew. He pretty much knows everything I know since we shared the dream. Until Mercy remembers something, there really isn’t much else to go on.
Technically there isn’t any direct evidence to Javier, so Matthew can’t charge him with anything. One thing I know for sure, something has Javier all worked up about the girls, and he’ll be after them again. Since this first attempt was pretty mild, he is probably just feeling me out. When it turned into a shit storm with dead bodies, that no doubt put him on alert. I doubt his next attempt will be so tame. Looking over at Matthew, I wonder if I can trust him enough to help me keep the girls, safe. They are my family now, and they are in danger.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Xenobia
A week has passed since Mercy woke up. She’s been keeping to herself, mostly just sitting with us at mealtimes. I make sure to check on her a few times a day. I want her to know that she isn’t alone. We moved her into her own room so that she can have her own space to recuperate. So far she seems to be ok, but I know that the wall is going to come crashing down at some point and she is going to need someone to catch her when she falls apart.
Going through the fallout from a traumatic experience can be deadly, for you or for someone else. I would know. I suppose I could take away her ability to feel the emotional pain, but it wouldn’t really be of service to her. She needs to build strength from this on her own. She needs to know she is strong enough, that she’s got power over how this situation affects her future. There’s nothing quite like knowing that even though you got knocked on your ass, you’ve picked yourself back up. Nothing wrong with leaning on people through the process, but ultimately you determine whether you remain a victim. And that is something she is going to decide for herself, I’m not going to rob her of her victory over this.
We’ve been making arrangements for her father’s body. That hasn’t been easy for her. She’s not having any sort of service, but she’s asked me to go with her to collect his ashes. I have a feeling once she gets his ashes, reality is going to set in, and that is when she’s going to lose her shit for awhile.
I’ve been interviewing potential clients over the week, but I’ve already told Maggie and Sylvia that if Mercy has a breakdown, we won’t take any new clients until it is dealt with. I’m going to leave them in charge of managing things. I trust Maggie and Sylvia with the day-to-day, but they don’t have my powers, and thus they lack the ability to read people. I don’t want to take on anyone new until I can meet with them personally.
These thoughts, and other ones like them are why I find myself awake and staring at the ceiling. My mind is on overdrive with no sign of slowing down. I may not need a lot of sleep, but I do need some, and this is getting ridiculous.
Throwing the covers off of me, I walk over to my window. The quiet of the early morning makes the world seem peaceful. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that nothing bad is happening, that everything is perfect. But I know better. Somewhere someone is suffering this very moment. I can feel it as it seeps into me. This is the curse of being able to connect to emotion.
The meditation cushion is calling to me, so I sit and allow myself to move into a more focused state. This helps me manage my own emotions and deal with the emotions I pick up from others. I slow my breath as I allow it to move more deeply in and out. My mind slows down as my body relaxes.
***
Out of nowhere, I feel my body jerk awake. I feel the fading sensation of someone’s arms around me. I almost never fall asleep during meditation, but apparently I did this time. What the hell was I dreaming about? Rubbing my hands over my arms, I try to brush off the feeling of someone else in my personal space. It is an unsettling experience to have anyone else touch me, especially when I’m sleeping. I don’t like the feeling of vulnerability I have at the present moment.
The grogginess is fading and it suddenly hits me, I was dreaming about Matthew. It felt like more than a dream though. I swear I can still feel where his arms were around me, like he was hugging me. Unless I am having a nightmare, I don’t dream about men. I don’t like how this is developing. He and I haven’t even talked since we came out to each other about the hidden parts of who we are, there hasn’t been any reason to. With Mercy still lacking memories, and no contact from Javier, things were back to routine. I’m rather enjoying things getting back to normal, it keeps me grounded.
Shaking off the odd feelings, I make my way to the shower. The day hasn’t even really started, but I’m already done with the weirdness. I’m praying for a normal day ahead and satisfied clients.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Matt
The week after meeting Xenobia has crawled by. I’m not getting anywhere with Mercy’s case and I can’t get Xenobia out of my mind. I think I finally passed out from sheer exhaustion sometime around three this morning. The next thing I know it is five in the morning and I am jolted awake. Seriously! I have gotten a whole two hours of sleep. I’m trying to figure out exactly what woke me up. My senses are on high alert, but I don’t hear, see, or smell anything that is a potential threat.
As I bring myself down from the abrupt awakening, I realize I must have had a dream. What was I dreaming about? Xenobia, I was dreaming about Xenobia. Great! I can’t even sleep without thinking about her. Turning over I shove my pillow over my face and groan. I don’t have to
be anywhere today and damn it, I am going to get some sleep!
CHAPTER TWENTY
Xenobia
I’m sitting in my office making notes after a client interview when Mercy walks in. She is looking stronger and I’m glad to see her up and out of her room.
“They just called and told me I can pick up my father’s ashes today. Are you available to go with me?”
“Yes. Let me finish up these notes and we can go.” It is nearly lunchtime so it isn’t going to hurt me to take a break. I don’t have any more interviews scheduled for the day so we can take our time. I have a feeling Mercy will need some time to deal with everything.
Mercy is silent the whole time. I’m a bit surprised. I expected her to at least cry, but she’s consumed in her thoughts. I can feel how sad she is, she just isn’t able to express it yet. There is a sense of numb on top of it right now. Again, I’m tempted to use my powers to give her a little push through the healing process, but it wouldn’t be fair to her, or to the memory of her father to interfere.
We are back at the house, in her room, before she says anything. “He didn’t deserve to die. He was just trying to protect me.” I watch her set her father’s urn on the table in her sitting area. She’s finally tapping into the deeper parts of her pain. A tear is trailing down her cheek, but I know she’s still holding back.
I feel the exact moment her energy changes. Instead of sadness, she has shifted into rage. “Those bastards killed him! He was all I had. They killed him and I can’t remember a damn thing about them. He deserves better than that!”
The energy build up is intensifying. When she raises her eyes to meet mine, they are as black as mine when I don’t have my glamour in place.
Shit!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mercy
Since Xenobia took me in, I’ve been keeping pretty much to myself. I know I have to keep going, but I’ve felt so hollow over the past week. I’m going through the motions, but not really registering any of it.
We’re going to pick up my father’s ashes today, and I can’t really focus on anything. I’m glad Xenobia is coming with me because I am not sure I can even speak at the moment. My father was all I had left of my family. My mother died when I was three and my dad never remarried. No one ever lived up to my mother in his eyes I guess. That, and he was trying to raise a daughter on his own. He worked a lot to provide for us, which meant that he didn’t have much time for socializing.
Feeling the cold metal of my father’s urn as it is placed in my hands brings me back to myself. On the drive back to the house, I feel the reality of it all begin to sink in. My father is gone. I’m alone, and the people who did this are still free because I can’t remember anything about that night. Yes, the two men who physically helped him meet his death are gone, but the people behind them are still out there. I’m overwhelmed with grief, and I’m starting to become angry. Why can’t I remember!
***
Returning to my room, I place my father’s urn on the table where I can see it often. I want to see it every day. It needs to remind me that this is all my fault. He’s dead because of me. I hear myself speaking but I’m so angry that all I can focus on is getting the anger out. My body feels so foreign. It’s like being consumed by fire from the inside out. The burning builds in intensity and demands release.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Xenobia
Looking into Mercy’s, now black, eyes, I recognize the power. It is my power being mirrored back. I guess this answers the question about the side effects of taking my blood. I know how hard it is to control the power when it first manifests. I have to get her under control before this gets out of hand. I’m going to have to use my power on her after all, just not how or why I considered doing it before.
“It’s ok, Mercy. I know this is overwhelming.” I move in to embrace her, and she’s still present enough to allow it. As much as I don’t want to do this, I have to. She’s going to be dangerous until she learns how to control this.
I allow my fangs to elongate and bite her neck, gently releasing a small amount of sedative into her bloodstream. As it takes effect, she begins to sway on her feet and I help her to her bed. Her eyes have faded back to normal and she looks confused. “What’s happening to me? I’m so tired…”
“Sleep now, and we’ll talk about it when you wake up.” I pull a chair over to her bedside. There is no way I’m leaving her by herself now that I know she has manifested powers. She is going to need guidance so she doesn’t hurt herself, or anyone else. If this wasn’t such a serious situation, I might be laughing. Me, teaching someone to control their powers, when there are times I can’t even control my own. The Universe has a strange sense of humor.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and send Maggie a text to let her know that she and Sylvia are on management duty until further notice and to cancel new client interviews. Things just seem to keep getting more and more complicated.
***
“So, you have powers? Like superhero powers?” Mercy is looking at me like I am crazy. She’s only been awake for about ten minutes, but she is interrogating me mercilessly. I fully expected her to be upset that I knocked her out. Instead, she seems excited at the prospect of having powers. Where others might be scared, Mercy seems eager to embrace the revelation I just dropped on her.
“So, now I have superpowers too?” I put my hand on her arm to try and get her attention.
“Slow down. Take a breath.” I wait for her to slow down and focus. “Ok, now, yes I have abilities, but I don’t think they are quite superhero caliber. I can’t fly or lift busses, or anything like that.” I stifled a laugh that threatened to bubble out. The idea of me having super strength, I’d probably bring the building down on us knowing my luck. It has taken many years to get the powers I do have under control…for the most part. And, that thought is a straight segue into the conversation that really needs to be going on here.
“Mercy, I know you are excited that you have powers, but the truth is, I have no idea what yours are or if they will even last. When I healed you, it was the first time that I’d ever given someone my blood. I have no way of knowing what the side effects are going to be. I didn’t even know you would get powers, although, it was in the back of my mind as a possibility.” Yeah, a possibility I had pushed away because it seemed a little far-fetched. I think there was a part of me that knew though, the part of me that gave me the idea to use my blood in the first place.
“Where do we go from here?” Mercy looks at me expectantly. And this is why I shy away from leadership. People expect leaders to have the answer or to figure one out. Personally, I think I make a horrible mentor, but the girls all stayed with me when given the option to go their own way, and I didn’t plan on letting them down. Still, there were days where it would be nice to not be the one in charge.
“We need to see how well you control your powers. The problem is that the only other people that know about me are Maggie, the detective, and now you. If you have an episode around anyone else, you could hurt someone, and it could also cause panic. I think we need to keep your interactions limited for now. It shouldn’t seem unusual since you’ve been keeping to yourself most of the time up until now anyway. We’ll have to work on controlling your power when no one else is around.”
“You’re probably right. It is a bit disappointing though. Now that I know I have powers, I’d kind of like to take them for a test run. If I can learn to control them, I might be able to help take out the people who murdered my father.”
Looks like we’re going to have to have a talk about that now too. I don’t want her to become consumed by the need for revenge. That never leads anywhere good. And I would know a thing or two about it, unfortunately.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Xenobia
Weeks have gone by and we are working on controlling Mercy’s powers when she gets emotional. They seem to have a way of leaking out accidentally. Gee…I wouldn’t know anything abo
ut that. My anger is still a weak point. There is definitely a learning curve to mastering these powers. I remember what it was like trying to learn to control my powers, and I still lose it on occasion. Thus the two dead bodies that brought Detective Winters into my house and business.
I haven’t had any contact with the detective since he interviewed Mercy. Well, unless you count the dream that took over my meditation time. I try not to think about it. It is definitely not a complication I need right now. I don’t like the way he seems to invade my personal space. I mean, isn’t there an unwritten rule somewhere that says you can’t commandeer another person’s dreams? If there isn’t one, there should be. High jacking someone’s dreams just seems rude. I know Matt is a decent guy, but I’m still a bit miffed at his remark about my profession. He has no business in my dreams. I’m going to have to let it go for now though. He just sent a text message that he is headed over to speak to Mercy. For her sake, I’m not going to create stress. She’s got enough to deal with as it is.
***
On the way downstairs I meet up with Matt in the foyer, and I motion for him to follow me. As we are nearing my office I feel a mix of strong emotions. Fear, anger, lust. For a second I’m back in my old life as the emotions move through me. I must have fallen to my knees from the shock of it because the next thing I know I see Matt looking down at me with concern on his face. He’s holding his hand out to me to help me up. “You ok?”
“Yes, fine.” I shove his hand away. I know he is just trying to help, but damn it, I don’t have time for this trip down memory lane. He doesn’t need to see me at a weak point either. I stand up and continue on like nothing happened.
Voices reach us before we see anyone. “Stay where you are, but take your hands and mouth off of her!” I recognize Mercy’s voice, but who is she speaking to?
The Rise of House Valdis Page 4
