by Anna Elias
Avani squeezed her eyes shut against the nightmare of Sonny’s attack.
Eva exhaled. “The gash in your scalp will require stitches. And you should have a CT scan or MRI to make sure there’s no swelling or concussion.”
“No hospitals,” Avani whispered. Every muscle ached. She felt emotionally and physically violated, and an angry vine of hate had started to coil. She gazed out the room’s one small window, tears running down her cheeks, fighting to cut the seething tendrils before they took root.
Eva’s expression darkened. “But you must, love. They’ll do a rape kit, as well. Get semen samples, DNA, check for diseases, and—”
“Do a police report.”
“Precisely. So you can press charges.”
Demeaned, demoralized, and incensed, Avani wasn’t sure she could ever forgive Sonny. But she also could not let the anger take control, not if she wanted to live a normal life. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing—in and out as her lungs expanded and contracted, as her diaphragm tightened and softened, as her belly rose and fell. It was a trick Lani had taught her, to calm angry thoughts and control emotions. She exhaled a final time and turned to Eva. “He didn’t finish.”
“I think he did quite enough.”
“He stopped before he ...”
“How would you know? He knocked you unconscious.”
“I wasn’t bruised or torn. Or bleeding.”
“Of course you were bleeding, love. He cut you with a—”
“I mean”—Avani indicated the place between her thighs—“there.”
Eva stared at the girl. “You mean ... you’re still a—”
“Yes.”
Some girls in high school had teased Avani for being a virgin, but that stopped soon after a cheerleader, Violet, had barely survived being raped by her boyfriend. He’d become drunk and stoned at a party then lured her to a back room where he’d pinned her to the wooden floor and forced himself on her. He had torn her so badly she hemorrhaged, and his pressure against her body broke her leg at the hip. Violet had been forced to endure multiple surgeries, and she’d suffered months in a cast. But the mental and emotional damage had been far worse, and Violet’s family eventually had to move her to another state.
“How is she?”
Eva jumped at Liam hovering in the doorway. Her voice sharpened. “Don’t you ever knock?”
He held up a new LED medical exam light. “You ordered this.”
“About bloody time,” Eva huffed as she applied a bandage to one of the larger scrapes on Avani’s shoulder.
Avani shifted to get a better look at the man as he entered. His voice was soft and soothing, like that of the woman who’d brought her. His trimmed beard, straight brown hair, and simple clothes matched his unassuming voice, but his presence, his essence, his whole being felt different—ancient, classic, otherworldly. A warm current traveled up Avani’s spine and she stopped shivering. His golden eye sparkled with a familiar green ring.
“Your eyes. They look like—”
“This won’t take long,” he gently interrupted, turning to mount a metal bracket on the wall.
Eva held the blanket while Avani turned onto her back. “Even though this boy didn’t finish, there’s still no excuse for what he did do. And he might try again. In fact, he may not stop until the deed is done, or until he kills you trying.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“You probably never thought he would do this.”
Avani watched Liam work as she breathed in and out against Eva’s words. He was focused, deliberate. Every move was a measured step toward achieving his goal. He secured the bracket, so he could secure the swing arm, so he could secure the light.
It hit her that she needed to let go and secure herself to a new life, away from Sonny and the ranch, and shine as a new light of her own. Wherever that might take her.
“Two boys murdered my father when I was young,” she told Eva. “Sonny, the one who did this, is the only child of the ranch family who took in my mother and me afterward, who cared for us like their own and gave us homes, jobs, and a brand-new life. They are all I have left in the world. Well, had left.” She paused, her eyes moistened. “They love Sonny. And they need him. He’s a devoted son and the best hand on the ranch. Hurting him will hurt them, and I won’t do that.”
An encouraging smile crossed Liam’s lips as he fitted the light’s extension arm to the bracket.
Eva gaped at the girl. “What about your mum?”
Avani inhaled against the hurt. “She died a few weeks ago. Sonny and his family are the only way I got through.” Avani’s phone buzzed. Her chest tightened. “It’s him.”
Liam twisted his wrench one final time. He aimed the light away and turned it on. Eight small LED bulbs beamed to life. He adjusted the head, shining them down on a corner of the table. But his eyes never left Avani’s, as if he knew her thoughts.
The phone stopped, then buzzed again with Sonny’s name on-screen. Avani blew out a deep breath and tossed her cell in the trash.
“But the photos we took.” Eva scowled. “Your evidence.”
“I won’t need it.”
“But—”
“Sonny has to live with what he’s done.” Avani ached like she’d swallowed rocks, but her words flowed with conviction, confidence. “He’ll be alone, without me. For him, that’s punishment enough.”
“And what do you get, love?” Eva asked. “Except knocked senseless and nearly ravaged by your best friend?”
Avani ignored the ire Eva’s words stirred. She began to understand how compassion and anger shared two sides of the same coin. She clung to the former to avoid being consumed by the latter. “I get to move on. Free from Sonny and any legal ties a case would create.”
Liam tilted the light again. The beam brightened the table near Avani’s head. He packed his tools.
Eva squirmed. “I just think you should—”
Avani silenced her with a look.
“Fine.” Eva sighed and swung the new light over Avani’s neck. “I can stitch you here and test for a concussion. But it’s not the same.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
Liam gave Avani one last smile before leaving the room.
SAM
Sam bumped into Liam at the doorway. Their touch jolted, and Chief Black’s words sounded again.
You will know.
Liam’s eyes flashed. “It’s time, Sam.”
Sam’s breath hitched and a wave of nausea rolled through. Liam, on the other hand, whistled his way down the hall as if Vessels Programs started every day. Sam still did not understand everything about Liam or his purpose at the shelter, but he knew the unusual handyman had divine connection; that he’d been assigned from that realm to help with this new Program, and that every Program had someone like him.
Spirit Guard, Diego had called Liam on his most recent phone call with Sam. Diego had done it again—waiting until the Program was about to start to blast Sam with this bomb of information. He said he’d wanted Sam to become more accustomed to Liam, more reliant on him, before unveiling the man’s mystical presence. Sam knew his friend had also waited to share this revelation to prevent Sam from feeling even more terrified when Diego left—especially after that bobcat-linked, soul-changing initiation at the lake.
Sam looked at the wounded young girl lying atop the table—orphaned, hurting, and alone, another Vessel star in this Program’s sky. Sam couldn’t help but wonder how many more there would be as the Program grew and strengthened.
He entered the room as Eva opened a package of surgical thread. “Doing okay, Doc?”
She glared.
“It suits you.”
“More than I care for it to.”
Avani opened her eyes.
“Feel better?” Sam asked.
She nodded.
“Any idea where you’ll go? After this, I mean.”
She adjusted the bandage on her neck. “Not really. Not yet.”
/> “I have an idea, but we can talk about it once you’re better.” He patted her arm and motioned Eva out into the hall, where they could talk privately. “She’ll be okay, yes?”
“Oh, she’ll be fine,” Eva snapped. “But I still want to strangle the bugger who did this. Best friend my arse.”
Sam’s smile waned. “Are you sure you want this job, Eva? Working here will bring changes that are ... far beyond what you and I understand.”
Her eyes darkened, but a twinkle sparked inside. “I’m like a cat on hot bricks about some of it, to be honest. Especially with these last two emergency room cases somehow dropped on our doorstep.” She brightened. “But having the chance to run a facility that serves people, not profits, with less paperwork and no insurance headaches—count me in.”
His smile returned. “I was hoping you’d say that. Doc.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE ROGUE
Whirring blades churned the briny water as Matheus powered through Rio’s Guanabara Bay. He’d painted his modest fishing boat blue and white, like the notorious marlin that swam offshore in these waters, or the less majestic bluefish that kept him in charters year-round.
Matheus weaved around the Cagarras Islands, breathing in the salty ocean air. A prop plane droned overhead, the sun hovered on the horizon, and stars flickered in the cerulean sky. Most other fishing vessels had returned for the night, but this pasty, sick man from Bolivia had paid him a month’s worth of charters to fish one more time for yellowtail or amberjack before nightfall. As a poor young fishing guide with no other way to buy needed parts for his engine, Matheus could not afford to say no.
The winds kicked up, the waves rolled higher. Jose retched again.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matheus asked in his native Portuguese. “We could try again tomorrow.”
The Rogue inside Jose made him shake his head yes. One of the few good things about taking over non-Vessel humans was the ability to control their minds without them knowing. They could not “hear” thoughts or communicate telepathically like Vessels and most were egotistical enough to assume all ideas were theirs, no matter how odd or out of character.
Jose leaned over to vomit again, and the Rogue smiled. The blue and white of this boat would make it hard to see on the ocean, especially at dusk. That detail, along with the healthy, youthful and single state of its owner, had driven him to choose this charter over any other.
Jose signaled with one weak hand, and Matheus slowed to a stop, just beyond sight of the shore. He turned off the engine, baited the hooks, and prepared the reels. As he bent over to help Jose stand, the Rogue jerked up and slammed Jose’s head into Matheus’s eye socket at the brow.
The fishing guide teetered before dropping unconscious to the floorboard.
The Rogue wasted no time, using Jose’s last ounce of strength to turn Matheus face down. He reduced to his misty red pearl form and slipped from Jose’s open mouth, floated through Matheus’s thin cotton shirt, and entered his back. Jose’s skin turned gray, and his organs ground to a stop. He moaned and collapsed on top of Matheus, wheezing his last gasp as Matheus came to beneath him.
Matheus screamed and scrambled to his knees, shoving Jose’s dead body off his back. He jumped to his feet and froze as his head turned, and his arms and legs moved of their own accord. His insides gurgled and twisted, and a sudden icy heat drenched him in sweat.
The Rogue settled into place, expanding to fit the young muscular frame. The organs were hardy, and the chemical rush of adrenaline, epinephrine, and cortisol boosted the Rogue’s energy. He tapped Matheus’s torrent of thoughts and rebooted his mind, replacing his fear with a gruesome new plan.
An eerie calm washed over the young guide. His hammering heart returned to normal, the breeze cooled his sweat-soaked face, and he felt his eyes grow cold and hard. A tiny corner of Matheus’s mind remained aware and terrified as his body transformed.
The Rogue made him stretch Jose’s corpse into a spread-eagle position, retrieve his tackle box and grab his favorite nine-inch, stainless steel fishing knife. Matheus ran a finger along the razor-sharp blade, admiring its ability to fillet anything, including the powerful sailfish and marlin frequenting these waters in summer.
He pressed the knife into Jose’s limp arm near the shoulder, slicing through skin and sinew until he reached bone. He twisted the blade and guided the tip, severing the joint and pulling the arm free, like a chicken wing. Blood splattered his face and pooled at his knees. Its coppery scent filled his nose as he cut the remaining flesh and tossed Jose’s limb overboard.
The Rogue forged his new plan while making Matheus dismember Jose. He would empty the young guide’s bank account, buy a one-way ticket to San Francisco, and find Mary—the woman who had taken his life. Her body would meet a similar end, and he’d be off to Mexico or the Caribbean before anyone knew she was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SAM
Sam entered the clinic to find Eva loading supplies into a new lockable medicine cabinet. Avani perched on the exam table next to her, the shelter’s gray tabby cat purring in her lap.
“I see Kismet found a friend.” Sam scratched the cat’s ears.
“I didn’t think that creature was capable,” Eva quipped, turning from the cabinet to Avani. She clicked on the new light and aimed it at Avani’s neck. “Look at this.” She pulled back a fresh bandage that held a thick clump of soft leaves.
Sam winced at the raw, earthy smell, but his jaw dropped at the almost invisible wound. “It’s healed that much already?”
“She made a poultice from herbs and leaves. It’s only been four days, but look at the difference. Did the same for Tal, as well.”
Sam remained stunned at the people, and skills, this Program was pulling together.
“My mom showed me,” Avani told him. “Most plants are medicinal, in some way.”
“Wish I’d had this at the hospital,” Eva said tucking the girl’s poultice back into place. “Would have saved a fortune in salve and bandages.”
Avani rubbed the cat’s chin. “Healing plants grow all around here.”
“They’re not FDA approved, love,” Eva said. “God himself can’t heal you in this country without FDA approval.”
“But you can use them here, right? I can show you where they grow.”
“Or maybe we can grow our own,” Sam suggested.
Doc grinned. “Our own bloody Eden.”
“Pot growers said the same thing.” Tal smirked as she entered. “Right before we busted them.”
Sam noted her wrists. Tal had been at the shelter for less than two weeks, and her wounds still required bandages. But thanks to Avani’s poultice, they’d already been reduced to small adhesive strips. He looked at Eva, impressed.
She nodded then looked at Tal. “Marijuana is medicinal. “New laws are proving that.”
“Tobacco’s therapeutic, too,” Avani added. “Just not in cigarettes. A lot of Native Americans used the raw plant for healing and enlightenment.”
“Enlightenment, huh?” Tal teased, sitting on the table next to her. “I guess that’s one way of saying it.” Avani batted her arm.
Sam smiled at the friendship these women shared, and at their acceptance of Link, despite the fact he had been here longest and had kept mostly to himself. The three fit together in ways he never could have imagined. His tension eased. “A good friend of mine smoked cigarettes and weed and rolled his own of each,” Sam told them. “He used to say, ‘God don’t make no mistakes. He made the plants, plants grow in the ground, then man comes along and messes it all up.’”
“Amen to that,” Tal said.
Metal clunked as Link wheeled in a refurbished generator. “I retooled the engine, Doc,” he told Eva, parking it in the corner. “You’ll get double the power for twice as long, which should drive whatever you need during any storm.”
Doc eyed the improvised parts, the invisible welds. “Where were you during Katrina?”
“I was, like, seven.”
“The question was rhetorical.”
Link smirked. “I know.”
As different as they were, and as varied and unique as their arrivals here had been, these four got along like old friends. Sam knew that wasn’t a coincidence. No part of this Program was a coincidence.
“The motor runs on biofuels, which we can make here. And you can plug into solar backup from the new panels on the roof.”
“I wish that were true of this whole shelter,” Sam muttered. “The less we require from the outside world, the better.”
“Okay, Sam,” Doc said, closing the cabinet and leaning on the table near Avani. “Spill it. You called us here, now tell us what in the bloody hell is going on. Why do we want less from the outside world, why are we turning this free clinic into a walk-in emergency room, and what in God’s name requires us to be so damned secretive?”
Butterflies swarmed his stomach. He inhaled the aroma of fresh-cut flowers on Eva’s desk. The scent calmed his nerves as he scanned these four strangers who were quickly becoming like family. Or a band of angels. His gut was certain they belonged, as the chief foretold, but he wasn’t sure they would believe it. And if they didn’t, what would he tell Chief Black when he showed up alone at the full moon in ten days?
“Well, Sam?” Eva prodded.
Sam studied the four faces, their worried looks. He exhaled. Here goes nothing. “This shelter is home to a new program, one unlike anything you can imagine, and we all will play a vital role.” He turned to Tal, Link, and Avani. “You three most of all.”
They shifted uneasily.
“In just over a week, you will have a chance to start life over, and do something only a select handful of people in the entire world will ever experience.” His voice cracked. “You three will become Vessels—human hosts for spirits who return from past lives to find loved ones in this life. They will come back to right wrongs, find forgiveness, restore love, seek redemption, that kind of thing. Doing so saves their loved ones in some way, and earns the spirits their place in Elysium.”
