At least she had the potential to “turn off” her visions. If she could prepare properly, she wanted to try to block Sarah and Quincy. The mere possibility of having a vision of someone else she loved made her blood run cold.
What about Peter? She touched her lips. She still felt him there, surrounded by his masculine scent, felt his rough hands roving over her arms and face. And what about his demonstration of freakish strength and speed? The sound of that entire trunk shattering sent chills down her spine, even now. If he could do that to a tree, what hope did she have if he turned that force on her or anyone else?
So what did she know about him now? Not a whole lot more than when they first met. She knew what he could do, but not what he was. She could guess that he wasn’t exactly human, but how? Why? She shivered. Was he dangerous?
Of course he was dangerous.
She had witnessed his skills. She knew about him. Would he return to silence her?
For the love of all that was holy, she had lived in fear of visions of other family members for much too long. She’d used her career to level the cosmic playing field—the lives saved by her medical skills made up for the inevitable lives lost from each vision. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered the possibility of a normal, intimate relationship. And damn it all, but for a brief moment, she’d had the keys to the kingdom within her grasp. Peter had unlocked feelings she’d never experienced before; he had awakened the real woman inside of Allison.
But as soon as her silly pipe dream of companionship came within her reach?
Her potential suitor ripped a tree out of the ground. With his bare hands.
Typical. She should’ve known better by now. In her warped life, hope always ended in pain.
When she took Ivy out for brief, necessary walks, that crawly sensation crept up the back of her neck. Was it her imagination or something truly outside? Or another aspect of that strange sense of Peter echoing faintly in her mind?
The curtains in her house remained shut. She missed the sun, but the memory of the man through the front window overrode her desire for a light and airy home.
At night she woke up in a sweaty panic, time and again. Seven a.m. came much too early, and she had to move it to make it to the hospital on time. She had planned to take a week off after her next twenty-four-hour shift.
God, she would go stir crazy.
During her shift, every time the ER doors whooshed opened, her heart thudded. Male staff and patient voices in a certain timbre tightened her neck muscles until she could no longer relax. A perverse part of her longed to see Peter again. Even with his supernatural strength and speed, she longed for those strong arms to wrap around her, those firm lips to explore her body.
To distract her from memories of his body, she left her gloves off for routine exams and tried blocking the patients’ visions, a skill that thankfully required all of her concentration. No images of death intruded, but then again, her gift had always occurred at random intervals. But her ability had changed. When she touched people, even if there was no sense of a vision, something still held her back, like a piece of cellophane between her hand and the patients’ skin.
Another discovery occurred in the wee hours of her shift. As her fatigue grew, it took extreme effort to maintain the blocking ability. Unable to hold up the block, her control slipped at two in the morning and she endured an excruciating image of impending death for a gentleman having chest pain. They had flown the man out to Portland with an acute heart attack. A few hours later, she learned that he had indeed died. Of course he did. Maybe her skill would improve with practice or rest. If only she could get to that point where she no longer saw the death of others, it would be worth it.
When her shift ended Saturday morning, she headed home for a quick run, avoiding the wooded trails. After a shower, she was tired but ready for the day. Eyeing the light clouds, Allison grabbed a fleece and threw it on over her long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, now eager to cheer on Quincy in the season-opener soccer jamboree. Marcie, who played an Internet-based meteorologist when she wasn’t the ER receptionist, had said there was a good chance of snow tomorrow and Monday, but the early spring weather should stay decent for today.
Near the soccer fields at the university, masses of brightly uniformed five- to eleven-year-olds teemed with unbridled energy. A bittersweet smile crossed her lips. None of these children would ever be hers.
Allison clipped on Ivy’s leash to allow her dog to trot next to her. When she reached the field for five- and six-year olds, she spotted Sarah and her husband, Bryce. Allison had immediately liked her brother-in-law when she met him years ago, not only because he adored her sister, but because he was just a good, normal guy. She should try finding one of those someday.
Actually, she had accomplished this task. She’d gone and found herself a nice guy. Damn it all, he wasn’t just nice, he was sexy. In his arms, she had come to life. In his arms, she had finally felt safe.
The only problem? He was not exactly human. A minor detail marring her otherwise idyllic life inconveniently riddled with death and the inability to get close to anyone. What a colossal freaking joke.
No. She was not going to wallow in self-pity. Not today. She exhaled, rolling her shoulders to work out the knots that had been building.
As she waded through the scrum of kids clad in neon orange Ivy was showered with kisses and pats, much to her hedonistic dog’s delight.
The coach’s game plan was no match for the kids’ exuberance. The whistle blew, and all semblance of organization ceased as every child on the field converged on the ball. Well, every child except for Quincy standing off in the far corner, alternately picking clovers and waving at her parents and Allison.
“It’s always a mess.” Bryce cringed and waved back.
Quincy had a close call, almost kicking the ball. Allison cheered wildly and grinned, a foreign sensation that relaxed her tense facial muscles.
Sarah sighed. “The best part of the day is snacks after each game. The sheer quantity of orange wedges and Gatorade should have her bouncing off the walls all night long.” She batted her eyelashes at Bryce.
He pulled at his brown goatee. “No way. She’s your kid today. I had to play fairy princess last weekend with her. I had to wear a tiara,” he added in a horrified whisper hidden behind one hand for Allison.
Then a parent approached him and asked about the status of keeping vagrants off Main Street. Bryce shifted gears from doting dad to police chief as he answered the woman’s questions in a professional, concerned manner.
Allison nudged her sister. “He’s always on the clock, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm. He wants to do a good job, and I’m used to disruptions. Personally, I think he likes the notoriety. Well, you would know. I’m surprised no one’s hit you up for medical advice yet.”
“The day’s young.”
After the first game, Quincy ran over and petted Ivy, setting the dog’s tail into lethally rapid motion. “Did you see me?” she asked.
“Oh, you did great!” Allison said. “Boy, you were all over that field!”
Sarah rolled her eyes, handed Quincy a sports bottle, and patted her on the shoulder. “Rest up, you’ve got two more games today.”
Apparently satisfied, Quincy rejoined her teammates and received further instructions from the patient coach.
With Bryce occupied, this was a perfect time for some girl talk. “Can I ask you a big favor?”
“Sure. You want to babysit Quincy for a month?”
“That whirling dervish? She’s all yours. No, I had a serious question to ask you.”
“Shoot.” Sarah smiled.
Suddenly chilled, Allison rubbed her arms. “Something has changed in my visions. I think I can do more.”
Sarah gasped. “What do you mean, more? You’re having more of them, right?”
“Yes, but that used to be the only thing I could do. Now I think I can do more.”
“Like what?”
&nb
sp; Allison stared at the turf, hoping to hide the warmth creeping into her face. “Well, I went into Peter’s mind the other day.”
“Explain. Now.”
Sarah responded without question; quite the commentary on the sad state of Allison’s life, that something this strange seemed so normal. Briefly, she described the recent encounter with Peter, minus the passionate kisses that nearly led to more and the bizarre demonstration of his strength.
She caught herself touching her lips and shoved her hand into a jeans pocket. “So when I came into contact with Peter, I saw the death visions, like I always do. But then my ability went into another gear I didn’t know I had. I slipped into his mind, dug around, and pulled out his memories and thoughts. Sounds insane, doesn’t it?”
Sarah tugged at her shoulder-length hair. “With you, anything is possible. Are you sure you weren’t imagining things? Or maybe there’s something weird about him that made you see things. You did say the first time you met him, it was strange.”
Allison shifted from one foot to another. “That’s right. That’s why I wanted to see if you’d let me try. Um, on you.”
Her sister stood still for a full minute. Just as Allison was going to retract the request, Sarah nodded.
“Go for it.”
“You’re sure?”
“If your power is changing, you need to understand it. I’m a good guinea pig. There’s not much you don’t know about me. Besides, I’m not scared of my little sister’s ESP.”
“What about surprise side effects? Anything could happen.”
“It’ll be fine.”
“Wow. Thank you.”
Her sister’s thin, pressed lips turned up at the corners. “So, you want to do it right here?”
“Now?”
“No better time than the present. No one’s paying attention to us. It’ll look like we’re two sisters chatting. Which we will be. Mentally.”
Allison’s breath came too fast. “Until your head explodes.”
“No talk like that. I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but I don’t trust myself.”
“I do. So give it a whirl, sis. What do you need me to do?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that there has to be physical contact.”
“All righty, then. Come on in.”
Sarah faced the soccer game, inclined her head toward Allison, and grasped her hand.
The sensation developed differently than with Peter, but there was no death to see, thank God. Allison let down her guard and slid into her sister’s mind. Bright, happy light surrounded her. And why shouldn’t there be light? This was Sarah. Of course her sister’s positive qualities went all the way to her core being. Allison pushed aside the mental curtains in Sarah’s mind like shimmering gossamer. With her virtual self, Allison probed around, not sure what she was looking for but trying to be gentle about it. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Sarah.
The wind sensation surrounded Allison, like with Peter, but it felt smoother, softer. It didn’t batter her this time.
Peripherally, she became aware of Sarah’s firm grip through their joined hands, but no pain exploded with the contact. How strange. The death visions always came with discomfort, but this was a warm and curious sensation. Maybe because there was no death visible, the vision didn’t hurt.
Allison dove deeper, pushing through the diaphanous layers. A particular bright light formed into Quincy as a baby, and a warm, hopeful glow of new motherhood expanded in Allison’s chest. A lump formed in her throat.
Digging deeper, she caught a glimpse of a younger Bryce. Allison shouldn’t be seeing such passion and love in his eyes. That gaze was meant for her sister, but Allison gained all of her perspective. Brief jealousy twisted the image into something ugly until she took a deep breath in and out.
Another layer deeper, she struggled to move the heavier curtain, but she finally succeeded. There was her mother, curled up on the carpet after a bender, sweaty and moaning. Sharp sadness stabbed Allison in the heart. It was her fault that Mom suffered; it was her visions that pushed Mom over the edge.
Go deeper, Sarah’s whispered voice drifted through the sound of rushing air.
I don’t want to see.
You need to.
The curtains she moved for the last layer were heavy lead. There he was. But her father’s withered body did not appear, dissolving beneath the chemotherapy, as Allison had remembered him.
Instead, the image Sarah kept locked deep in her memory was simple and stunning.
They were all having a picnic together, the last day together as a normal family. Allison, Sarah, Mom, and Dad. Before the visions started. Before everything changed.
Allison hadn’t noticed the glances her parents gave each other, the way her mother’s eyelashes batted or how her father quirked an eyebrow and winked. But this was Sarah’s memory. Their parents twined normal, healthy hands together. Mom rested her head on Dad’s shoulder and sighed. When ants threatened the basket of food, Dad jumped up and swatted the intruders off the blanket, grinning the whole time.
The smell of grass and soil slid into Allison’s mind. She and Sarah had rolled down the little hill over and over again, their girlish knees and hips tumbling until neither of them could walk in a straight line. They had collapsed in laughter, surrounded by the leaves shushing in the wind and insects buzzing nearby. Above them, on the hillside, Mom’s and Dad’s faces shone.
The memory of the last perfect day that marked the end of a perfect life.
Enough. Quit wishing for the past. For what she could never have.
Pulling back out of her sister’s mind, Allison squinted in the bright sunlight. The pleasant cacophony of scurrying kids eventually brought her back to the here and now. She let go of Sarah’s hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Her sister’s eyes shone with tears.
More pain. The theme of Allison’s life. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I’ll never do that again.”
“No, it’s okay, Al. Some of those images were beautiful. I had buried those memories.”
“I didn’t hurt you?”
“Not at all. It was weird. I knew you were there, but then pictures, flashes of memories, appeared like I’d thought of them myself. That’s really cool.”
Allison cringed at the pain lancing through her forehead. “I don’t know if ‘cool’ is the right term. Hey, do you feel a sense of me now?”
“Like in my head?”
“Yes. I still get a little whispering sense of you in my own mind. Can you feel me there?”
Sarah frowned. “No, nothing at all; it’s like nothing happened. Is that normal?”
Allison shrugged and stuffed her hands in her pockets. “Who knows?”
“Wow, your power really has changed. Who would’ve thought? A brand new ability. Good for you.”
“I don’t know about it being good, but thanks for letting me experiment on you.” Allison threw her arms around her sister’s neck, then stepped back, blinking away her burning tears. They stood in silence while the soccer game continued.
A new tingle began on the back of Allison’s neck and crept up into her scalp, bringing her head up to scan the area.
A man in a leather jacket stood in the next field over. His crew cut and gaunt jawline gave him a severe appearance, even at a distance, but he seemed bulky beneath the jacket. He had some tics, too, repetitively touching his ears and the back of his head. The man couldn’t hold still, and he wasn’t watching the games. He seemed to be searching the sidelines and talking to himself. Maybe he had some mental illness. Hard to tell at this distance.
The tingle continued but had an uncomfortable edge to it, unlike the mental echoes from Peter and Sarah. She rubbed the nape of her neck as breathing became difficult.
The recent connection with Sarah must have put Allison’s nerves on edge. Too warm, Allison shrugged out of the fleece and laid it on a nearby camp chair.
Focusing on the game, she force
d a smile over her lips and took a few slow, cleansing breaths. Better.
When she glanced toward the other field, there was no sign of the man. Probably nothing but her hyperactive imagination, revved up from the experiment with her new powers. She pushed the last vestiges of unease to the side and refused to consider anything except enjoying the rest of the lovely day with her family.
Chapter 10
Peter had driven around La Grande for several days, hunting the man from Allie’s house. The guy must have gone to ground. Maybe he left town, although that answer in no way satisfied Peter.
Focusing on the search was like walking through sludge. He literally couldn’t get Allie out of his head. The memory of her sweet lips, her scent, her soft body in his arms superimposed itself on everything he saw. He had to use his time searching for the stalker, although he would much rather spend the time with Allie. All he wanted was to possess Allie’s body and mind again and let the soothing connection assuage the evil he had become. The impulse horrified him. He’d never been on the verge of losing control, or at least not this close to the edge.
Beyond the distracting memory of her soft, sexy body, that mental connection continued, buzzing in the background of his thoughts. Did she have a similar feeling? He hadn’t had time to ask there on her porch. Claire had once looked at him with horror and fear like that. At least with Claire, his sacrifice made up for her rejection.
Being around Allie was different. Claire had been a sweet and loving wife, but Peter had been more of a father figure to his young bride. Allie possessed a unique strength of character, no less sweet but a contrasting quality. Like fine champagne, he craved more of her effervescence.
He scrubbed at his jaw. Damn it, he needed to look for the stalker, not moon over a woman.
Driving through the Eastern Oregon University campus, he slowed down to avoid the children running around. A “Soccer Jamboree” sign flapped in the early spring breeze. Mindful of the kids, he traveled down the street until a familiar green Subaru Outback caught his attention. Parking nearby, he joined the spectators at the fields.
Immortal Flame Page 8
