by Brenna Lyons
Keith nodded in relief. “Evan’s a good doctor. He’s taking care of Kyle?”
“Yes, but Kyle doesn’t seem to like him. I was—ah—wondering…”
“No. They don’t assign cases where you know the patient. It’s a bad idea. There’s no professional detachment when you’re personally involved.”
“I understand.” She sighed. “I’m asking too much. I just—”
“Want things to be as easy for Kyle as they can be,” he finished for her.
Carol smiled at her son as he played with the television remote. He giggled as he found Stanley on Disney channel, dressed for bed in his tiger striped pajamas.
“Guilty.” Carol swallowed a sob as she realized that life would be much easier without Peter. Was she wrong to be happy for that small favor?
* * *
Katheryn pushed her sunglasses up her nose as she hiked across the hospital parking lot from the bus stop. She should have been a vampire, she decided. Katheryn always preferred the dark. The dark was safe. It was comfortable. No monsters hid in the dark. For Katheryn, all the monsters lived in the light.
She yawned and stretched her neck. She could use more sleep, but she’d get it when Kyle was home. The walk was helping. Using her muscles cleared Katheryn’s mind and got her blood flowing, pumping the painkillers she took to counteract her headache through her system, but not fast enough to suit her.
Katheryn slowed and looked around the lot warily. Something was wrong. She could feel it, and she could feel the panic pushing at the already painful edges of her mind. A man was walking toward her and she glanced his way.
Her mouth went dry and she stepped back in shock. “No,” she breathed.
He was well over six feet tall, and his hair was almost completely white. White? All of his pictures showed black or dark salt and pepper hair. When had Tiberius’ hair gone white? The novelty made him even more frightening than the familiar images her mind normally concocted of him in her dreams. Had she ever remembered him with white hair? His blue eyes were the only touch of color in his colorless face, but they were cold and hard, reminiscent of thick ice.
His hand reached out for her, and she recoiled in revulsion and fear.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shielded herself mentally. “No, no, no,” she repeated. “Not here. He’s not here.”
Katheryn jerked as the hand touched her shoulder, and her throat closed on a scream. Her eyes flew open, and she took in the man who stood before her. He was not much taller than her five and a half feet, young and red-haired with a spray of freckles across his fair face and concerned green eyes.
“Are you okay, miss?”
She nodded silently and ducked toward the door, shaking and cursing herself for making a fool of herself that way. Mac stepped in beside her as Katheryn reached the entrance, and she sighed in preparation for the third degree that was coming her way.
“What was that all about?” he asked pointedly.
“Nothing. I was somewhere else, and he startled me. I’m tired, Mac. Nothing to it.”
“Katheryn, I’ve known you for a long time. You’re pale and shaking. I haven’t seen you like this in over fifteen years. So, tell me who that guy was,” he hissed dangerously.
“Mac!” She turned to face him in the hall. “You haven’t even seen me in almost ten years. You’re hardly an expert. He was just some poor guy who headed my way when I was beat and planning plot.”
“You’re trying to say you let your imagination run away with you?” It was obvious he wasn’t buying that one.
She shrugged. “I get into my writing.”
“You always wear sunglasses inside?” Old habits die hard. Mac would think the problem was chemical.
Katheryn removed them in annoyance and locked on his eyes. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Mac. I have a headache, and you know I’ve always been sensitive to light. Now, if the booking is concluded—”
“Just tell me one thing. What were you thinking about that set you off like that?”
Katheryn bit her lower lip lightly as she considered her answer. She hated lying to Mac, but if she told him the truth, he’d know how cracked she really was.
He took her silence as an answer. “You still have that much trouble?”
She felt her cheeks start to burn. “Kyle reminds me of it too much. Besides, where do you think I get my story ideas from?”
Mac nodded and turned toward the elevators. “So, when are you going to write a book about it? Inquiring minds still want to know,” he joked.
“Including mine, believe me,” she assured him as she swept her glasses back onto her face.
* * *
Katheryn was having so much trouble concentrating that Carol suggested more sleep. Katheryn smiled a tight, little smile and pushed her sunglasses up her nose with a rude gesture. Carol nodded and went back to her conversation with one of Kyle’s doctors.
Finally, it was decided that there was no reason to keep Kyle in the hospital if all went well overnight. After what she saw that afternoon, Katheryn was anxious about going to Carol’s house, but if she kept herself shielded, she should be able to survive until Kyle was in bed, and she could escape unscathed.
Katheryn stared at Kyle’s sleeping form. Tired from jumping on his bed and the irritation of the medical exams, he was napping. The room was quiet save the noise from the hall, the overhead announcements and the squeak of nurses’ shoes. She closed her eyes and crinkled her nose at the smell of disinfectant.
Carol would be gone for at least an hour. In the meantime, Katheryn argued her next move. If Kyle was reacting to some buried trauma in her mind, what could she do about it? She wasn’t sure if there was any way to break the link between them. Even if she knew there was, she wasn’t sure what ill effects cutting the umbilical would have on Kyle.
Katheryn had lived as a separate being, but had he? She couldn’t say for sure when their connection began. It could be jarring to Kyle to be suddenly alone—like when her father died and she was alone after so much time and with no memory of a life before that link. Katheryn never realized how much she depended on him until her father was gone and she had to learn to do everything for herself.
If Kyle was really being haunted, and Katheryn could stop it somehow, she had to do it. That meant remembering things she’d rather not remember and had no clue how to remember. Was there a way to force memories? If there was, she hadn’t discovered it in the twenty years she had been trying to remember.
Katheryn smiled as she heard Kyle moving around. He didn’t interrupt her, though he knew she was awake. Kyle always knew when she needed time to herself, something no one else seemed to have mastered. The television clicked on again, and Mickey’s House of Mouse whispered over her nerves. Katheryn sighed and turned her mind back to her analysis.
There was another problem. Could she free Kyle when it seemed she was still afflicted herself? Or was Katheryn not afflicted per se but only affected by Kyle’s affliction because of their link? A person could go crazy just trying to work out the matrix of this mess, she decided.
Either way, if there was a way to help Kyle, could she do it long distance? If Katheryn stayed an extended period of time, she couldn’t do it at the hotel, and she wouldn’t stay with her mother. She couldn’t impose on Sherry for an extended period of time, and she wouldn’t stay with Carol. Scratch that—couldn’t stay with her. An extended stay meant one of her patented moves—apartment to apartment, city to city for at least six months. Six months in bridge city hell!
She could write anywhere, and her agent was certainly accustomed to her wandering ways. Katheryn liked Virginia Beach except for the hurricanes and lack of snow. Florida ranked low for the fire ants, alligators, water snakes, and palmetto bugs. Maine was great except that you could never swim in the ocean and the winters were too damn cold. New York was too urban, too crowded and dirty. Massachusetts and New Hampshire were Katheryn’s current favorites—real winter, modest hills, and small towns
with real charm. Just ignore the occasional Nor'easter and the Bostonian accent, and you were in.
Moving back to Pittsburgh? She shuddered. Like any city, it had good areas and bad. You could even find the suburbs if you looked hard enough. It was just the mountains… Geologists may call them rolling hills, but they didn’t name them things like Mount Oliver and Mount Washington for no good reason.
Determined people settled the city, building on hills so steep that sidewalks were impossible dreams and city steps were built instead, then building houses where the back door was two stories below the front due to the slope of the hill. They took mountains and built houses and roads on them, blasted tunnels through them, built bridges between the peaks and across the three rivers wherever there was a flat piece of land to do it. The City of Bridges, it’s called. They built inclines, fifteen of them still standing, up the face of cliffs, then built streets and scenic overlooks out over the sheer drops just for the view. Yep, the people who built Pittsburgh were insane.
It sounded romantic enough, even to Katheryn, until she considered the heights. Part of her childhood trauma manifested itself in two minor—okay, major—problems when dealing with a city like Pittsburgh. The aeroacrophobia, a fear of open, high places, meant that those lovely overlooks and city steps were deadly to her sanity. Katheryn could avoid them if she tried. She had for sixteen years. From the night she almost died until she graduated college and left town, she did a better than average job of avoiding places that would set her off.
The other problem was gephyrophobia, a fear of crossing bridges. In the City of Bridges, that could be problematic. As a young child, Katheryn covered her eyes when the car crossed a bridge, and Dad talked her through to calm her nerves. Eventually, she learned to lock her eyes straight ahead and take slow, deep breaths while she drove.
Still, crossing a bridge on foot was impossible. Some bridges, like the Westinghouse in East Pittsburgh, bothered her even in a car. She would reach the other side, palms sweating and eyes wide, thanking some unnamed deity that she hadn’t pitched off the side to the land hundreds of feet below. No, the finest features of the city were lost on Katheryn.
She could live in the city if she had to, but she didn’t want to be too close to her mother. Dianna had several pet peeves that Katheryn grated on. Any excuse to harp on them would gladly be snatched up by the older woman. Katheryn would find her nocturnal habits under fire. She would find herself pressed into social engagements where sons or nephews of her blue-shirt uncles would vie for her attentions.
There were more pet peeves than Katheryn cared to count, and she would hear about them all if she stayed close. Maybe, Sherry and Mama Toni could find her an apartment near Monroeville. That would be far enough, she decided.
But was she overreacting? Kyle’s Ty could simply be an imaginary playmate having nothing to do with her Ty. Katheryn could have simply had a waking nightmare in the parking lot due to stress and lack of sleep, not to mention her preoccupation with the subject matter. Peter could have been killed by someone he pissed off or finally gone off the deep end and killed himself. Kyle might simply be imagining or dreaming his version of that day. Did she really want to move back to the city for his imagination and her own?
A sudden thought crossed her mind. Katheryn opened her eyes and considered her nephew. “Kyle, what does Ty look like?”
He regarded her strangely. “You know what Amurs look like.”
Katheryn smiled and closed her eyes again. “He never looks different to you?” she asked, confident now that she was imagining things.
“No. Why should he?”
“No reason. I just wondered.”
“You don’t like Ty, do you, Aunt Katie?”
“He’s okay, Kyle.”
“Ty knows you don’t like him, but he likes you. He wants you close to him, so he can protect you and talk to you.”
“I think you just want me close.”
“No. Ty really does want you close. He likes you. I know he does, because he has a cute name for you.”
“Really? And what name is that?” she asked in amusement, eager to hear what pet name Kyle would give her.
“He calls you Katie-girl.”
Katheryn felt a sudden sick vertigo assault her mind. A memory exploded before her. It was a dark night. Katie was curled against cold, hard rock. Tiberius was looking for her, smiling in the moonlight.
“Katie-girl…” His voice rumbled through the dark like a living creature searching for her, full of malice and amusement. She shook her head to chase away the familiar panic.
“He wants to talk to you, Aunt Katie,” Kyle repeated.
“What does Ty want to tell me?”
“It’s not a dream, and you’re not crazy. You never were crazy.”
* * *
Carol watched Katie in concern. Something happened while she was at dinner, but Katie was in the guarded mode that told the world she had no intentions of sharing her problems, a stance that she took far too often for the comfort of those around her. Carol wondered if Katie ever told anyone anything. Kyle looked unconcerned about his aunt’s mood, which would indicate that her problem had something to do with Ty. Once again, Carol wished she understood what was going on in her own family.
Kyle bounced on the bed while PB&J Otter played on the television. He spoke suddenly. “Guess what, Aunt Katie? Uncle Keith came to see me today. He’s cool!”
Carol saw the muscle at the back of Katie’s jaw twitch. Her sister’s eyes, free from her sunglasses now that her headache had passed, were hard and dark in anger. “Really? What did Mr. Randall have to say?” she asked in a flat voice that made Carol cringe. Katie viewed that reaction with something akin to satisfaction.
“Why does Uncle Keith put you in a foul mood?” Kyle asked a little too innocently.
Katie fought the urge to smile at that one, and she shook her head. “He hasn’t changed much? Has he?”
This time Carol answered. “Actually, he has—quite a bit. I think you’d like the changes if you gave him half a chance.”
Katie looked toward the window, and the anger was replaced with a sigh. “That’s not a good idea.”
“You are the definition of extreme. It’s been fifteen years, and you still won’t forgive him. You won’t even tell anyone what he did so we can have the option of getting mad with you. He’s not that awkward, lovesick boy anymore. You’d know that if you’d talk to him.”
“Yeah, I’m extreme. That much was right, but you’re wrong about Keith. He was never lovesick. I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word.” She glanced at Kyle. “Look. We’ll discuss this later. Kyle shouldn’t be exposed to this old crap.”
“Actually, maybe he should repeat it. It might do Keith some good to hear what you think of him.”
Katie looked at her in surprise. “Dream on!” She bit off the rest of the thought so abruptly that Carol heard the snap of her jaw as she forced it shut.
“I thought you said you didn’t believe he was lovesick.”
“He’s not! If I wanted to, I could end his fascination with a snap of my fingers.”
“Then, why don’t you?”
She stared back at the window. “Because I have more self-respect than that. I won’t sacrifice it just to end the debate.”
Carol shook her head in annoyance. Conversations about Keith always seemed to end this way. “So, I guess inviting him to dinner is right out?”
“Your houseguests are your own business, Carol. Don’t let me stop you.”
She looked at Katie in surprise. Was that capitulation? Katie never gave up so easily.
Her sister smiled, though the muscle at the back of her jaw twitched again. She answered Carol’s unasked question. “Just don’t set a place for me.”
* * *
The night passed without incident. Carol sent her back to the hotel, and Katheryn managed a fitful sleep despite the turmoil in her mind. Ty was a very real threat to Kyle. How much a threat remained
to be seen.
She seethed at the lies he was telling Kyle. Ty liked her? What a load of crap that was! Ty would kill her if he could. He’d do the job right this time. Katheryn may not remember much, but that much she had witnesses to. Was his plan to attack her directly or to taunt her with the harm he could do Kyle?
One way or the other, that apartment in Monroeville was looking like a certainty she had no hope of escaping. Katheryn ground her teeth at the thought. Like it or not, she was going to be stuck here for at least six months. Seeing Sherry and her family would be nice, though dealing with her own family would be tedious. She and Carol usually got along well, and there were times when she would have given anything to live this close to Kyle—before Ty.
Then, there was Keith. If she was reading Carol correctly, her sister and Keith were still holding doggedly to their friendship, and her younger sister still harbored hopes of convincing Katheryn to give the man another chance. To make matters worse, Kyle was very attached to his ‘uncle.’ Few people rated as high as cool in Kyle’s book, and as far as Katheryn knew, she and Ty were the only other ones. That meant both of her nephew’s friends were her adversaries.
She sighed deeply. Well, at least Keith wasn’t homicidal. If she had to, Katheryn could survive a few hours in his company and expect to walk away unscathed.
By the time they took Kyle home, Katheryn was resigned to move back despite lingering doubts. If Kyle was simply reading memories and thoughts from her mind, couldn’t he have come up with what he said on his own? No, she rationalized that he couldn’t unless he was seeing things even she couldn’t remember. Katheryn had no memories of Ty speaking to her—never had until Kyle called her Katie-girl.
Katie girl… The name Katheryn always used when she was berating herself was what Ty had called her, and she never knew it. It had never triggered that response in her before, either.
