“Ash! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Hey, cupcake,” he responded in an empty voice. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Pax was about to scold the man, but she didn’t have the heart. “Same here,” she responded, moving to sit beside her uncle.
“Seeing Amara hurt like that… it was a really big shock,” he admitted. “It scared the bejesus out of me.”
“Ash, you idiot. Amara isn’t physically hurt. She had a few creepy-crawlies dig into her skin and steal her energy, but do you know what’s really got her upset? The fact that you didn’t care. You saw she was shaking and scared and you just stood there. You didn’t even go to her and comfort her.”
“I couldn’t, Paxie. I made a decision and I need to be firm.” His face was miserable as he stared forward blankly.
“So even in a life or death situation, you can’t show her a little human kindness?” Pax demanded.
“We’re not human,” Asher responded automatically. Then he realized how foolish he sounded. “Look, I helped, didn’t I? You showed up out of the blue on my favorite skyscraper and interrupted my perfectly relaxing smoke. I dropped everything and went to freaking Venus with you to help save Amara! So quit judging my words, and judge my actions.”
“I don’t even know you anymore,” Pax said.
“That makes two of us. I am only your uncle when you need something from me, Pax. We used to be close. We used to be family. But frankly I don’t know why you’re here right now talking to me instead of with Thorn or Mara.”
“I guess we’re both closer to the Kalgrens than we are to each other.”
They were quiet for a period before Asher spoke. “It doesn’t matter, Paxie. Nothing matters as long as you girls are safe.”
Pax laughed as Asher tried to tousle her hair playfully as though she were twelve. “Does Mara know you’re in her bed?” Pax asked.
“No,” Asher said. “Please don’t tell her. I just can’t sleep anywhere else. I’ve been living here for five years, you know.”
“If you ask, Mara would probably let you stay in one of her other rooms,” Pax suggested. “There’s plenty of room in the house. It’s just a bit odd that you’re sleeping in her bed.”
“I know. I’m a loser,” Asher admitted easily. “Keep this secret for me, cupcake?”
Pax’s heart always melted when her uncle was modest and self-effacing. “Fine.”
“Thanks, Paxie. You’re my favorite niece.”
She smiled at the lame old joke. “I’m still your only niece, Uncle Ash.”
The touching family moment was interrupted by Pax’s phone ringing. She felt a pang of fear, praying that it would not be another text or call for Para. When she uneasily withdrew the phone from her purse, she saw that it wasn’t who she expected.
“Thorn wants a booty call?” Asher guessed with a grin.
Pax hit the dark-haired man in the shoulder. “It’s Layla Solyst.”
“The Earth Deva’s wife?”
“Yeah,” Pax said, sending her uncle a puzzled look. “I’ll just let it go to voicemail.”
“Doesn’t she have kids?” Asher asked. “Maybe they need you to teleport over there and help out in some kind of crisis. It could be Suja. Us devas gotta stick together!”
When the phone rang again, Pax nodded. “She’s double-calling. That means it’s an emergency.” She answered the call and pressed the phone to her ear. “Hi Layla. What’s up?”
“Paxie!” came the earsplitting shriek from the other end of the line. “I just saw the news! Good Sakra, I am so sorry sweetie. I had no idea things were this bad.”
Pax winced and moved the phone a few inches away from her ear so that the loud voice wouldn’t damage her hearing. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Mara called me a while ago and asked me to do some investigating for her, so I’ve been loosely keeping tabs on the situation. But Paxie, you poor thing! I just woke up to feed the baby and turned on the news and saw her! Do you want to meet up and talk about it?”
Asher could also hear Layla’s voice. When Pax looked at him with confusion, he grabbed the television remote and turned on Amara’s giant flat screen TV. When he flipped to a news channel, Pax wrinkled her nose at the sight of a segment on her mother’s death, complete with crime scene photos.
“Layla, you called just to tell me that some idiot has a new conspiracy theory about my mother’s death? Dear Sakra! I don’t want to listen to this garbage.”
As Pax’s finger moved to hang up the call, Layla’s voice could be heard screeching, “No! Go to channel six. Channel six!”
Pax exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes at Asher who shrugged and compliantly switched the channel. Then they saw her. Pax stared at the television in dumbfounded shock while Asher also gawked.
“Sweet Sakra,” whispered Pax. “She’s beautiful.”
“I know, darling. I’m so sorry,” crooned Layla Solyst from the other end of the line. “She’s a definite fifteen out of ten. You don’t deserve this public humiliation.”
Asher and Pax stared at the TV for a few more moments. It was the first time that Pax had seen pictures and videos of Para. She couldn’t help admiring the woman’s flawless grace as she glided through the mall on Thornton’s arm with her unusual dress and ultra-long hair. When the news program filled the entire television with a still shot of Para’s face, she noticed the way her makeup accentuated the softness of her lips and hardness of her striking eyes.
“Whoa,” said Asher as a picture flashed on screen of Para caught in a romantic embrace with Thornton. He was whispering something in her ear as she smiled. Several more pictures of compromising, incriminating positions flashed across the screen.
“Oh, Paxie! Please tell me you’ve left that cheating scum for good!” begged Layla from the other end of the line. “I can hardly believe what I’m seeing. That shameless creep! I’m happy I dumped him while you were still in diapers.”
Pax finally recovered from her daze and smiled. “Thanks for your concern, Lay. Yeah, I left him. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
“Do you need me to come over?” Layla asked.
“No, no. I’ll be just fine! Say hello to the babies for me, okay?”
“Paxie, are you sure…”
Pax hung up and stuffed the phone back in her purse. She made a mental note to never answer her phone again.
“Who is this new mystery mistress?” the news report was asking, and Asher finally had the presence of mind to shut off the television.
“Paxie, that girl doesn’t mean anything to him,” Asher said quickly. “I’m actually dating her—in fact, they were just talking. It was completely innocent. Thorn’s a good guy, and he loves you…”
“Why are you lying for him?” Pax asked. “Why are you trying to cover for him?”
Asher paused. “I don’t know. He’s my best friend.”
“I guess our loyalty to the Kalgrens will always supersede our loyalty to each other, right Ash?” Pax smiled cynically. “I need to go.”
“Wait, Pax,” Asher began, but the woman had already shot downstairs like a lightning bolt, and he could hear the sound of her Jeep’s engine starting. He considered chasing after her to defend his friend and try to clean up Thornton’s mess, but he quickly remembered that he wasn’t completely on his friend’s side.
He had forbidden Thornton from seeing Pax, and even though it had been revealed that Suja had influenced his friend, it did not explain or justify his behavior after the situation. Asher shook his head, surrendering. He had his own mess to wallow in. Sometimes it was satisfying to do something one was good at, and he was definitely good at wallowing.
Asher lay back down on the bed and closed his eyes to sense for Amara’s life force. She'll be happier this way, he told himself. He focused on her energy, meditating to carefully watch over her from afar. He could sense that she was in her old room at the Kalgren Compound. She did not seem to be sleeping. She seemed restless
and, well, sad. He couldn’t help thinking that Pax had been right, and he should be comforting her. No. She’ll be happier this way eventually. I know I did the right thing.
He continued to focus on her prana until he felt himself nodding off. He fought to stay awake.
His last barely coherent thought before he drifted off to sleep was of Amara, and a few words seemed to appear in his mind out of the blue. He clumsily processed them, not sure if they were from an outside source or distortions of his own thoughts. He was too tired to make sense of it:
You’re wrong. I only wanted you.
Chapter 24: Not Really Happening
“Agh! What is that!” growled Pax as she snapped awake with a start. Her cell phone had vibrated so much that it had crawled along the leather seat of the car, slowly, like scorpion poised to sting. When it touched one of the gashes in her wounded thigh, it had caused her to leap in surprise and hit her head on the car roof as she was snapped out of her slumber.
Pax looked up at the roof which now had a small dent in it and cursed. She ran the back of her hand over her eyes. Pax frowned down at her small rectangular attacker with infinite malice. I will never answer my phone again, she reminded herself. Nevertheless, she could not resist reading the name of the person who had caused this disruption.
After a moment’s consideration, she answered the call reluctantly. “Hello?” she said, still groggy.
“Pax! This is Michael calling.”
“Good morning, Dr. Winters. How may I help you?”
“I’m sorry to call at this hour, Pax. Believe me, I wouldn’t have bothered you if it weren’t a serious life or death situation.”
She sighed. “You work in a hospital. It’s always life or death. What makes this time different?”
“I think your… special abilities might be of service to helping this patient.”
“How?”
“Well, we have something of a situation in neurosurgery. We just put a patient under…”
“No. Do not tell me that you found another ‘anomaly,’” Pax said with a groan.
“Unfortunately, that’s what happened. We opened up the skull and…”
“You know that there’s no such thing as an ‘anomaly,’ right? It’s just your freaking staff not preparing properly.”
Michael Winters cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s why I need you. I’ve seen what you can do with your hands, Pax. Get those pretty little fingers into neurosurgery, stat.”
Pax was about to protest, but she just groaned. “Fine, Winters.”
She turned her key in the ignition to start her jeep. The radio immediately turned on, and Pax was startled by the discussion on the morning show.
“… the daughter of the late Hollywood actress, Bridget Burnson, for five years. Here’s a picture of her, Fred. Pretty plain lookin’ girl, huh?”
“Oh, Sakra. Seriously?” Pax asked the radio. “You’re going to do this to me before I’ve even had coffee?”
“Yeah, Jimmy. There’s no resemblance whatsoever between the Burnson girl and his new sexy mystery woman. I can see why he upgraded.”
“No resemblance? No resemblance?” Pax asked the radio, staring at the station number angrily. “She is me, for Sakra’s sake!”
“Can you blame the guy? He has enough money to do anything he wants. The Burnson girl is just dried up. I think last week’s leftovers in my fridge look more appealing!”
“It’s a disguise,” Pax mumbled. “I’m like Clark Kent, and they don’t know that I’m actually a cool superhuman type-thing.”
“I hear you, Jimmy. There are rumors she even cut off all her hair! She probably looks worse than this photo. Who can blame Mr. Kalgren for wanting to wake up beside someone who looks like a woman? I know I…”
Pax reached out and switched off the radio. “Dammit. This is unhealthy. I can’t listen to this. Stupid morning shows!”
As she drove along, she nibbled on her bottom lip nervously. Maybe I can throw myself into my work, she thought to herself. They always need help at the hospital. I could volunteer every day. I can work inhuman hours until I don’t have time to generate a single original thought. Maybe through my productivity and contribution to the world through the hospital, I can redeem myself and find meaning in life again.
* * *
Pax had entered the hospital staff area and pulled her scrubs on quickly over her normal clothing, thinking how surprised she was that everyone was being so nice to her. At least four people had asked her about her health and well-being on her way to the staff area. It seemed that she had been missed while away and that people had been concerned about the “injuries” she’d sustained which her father had fabricated. Well, not really fabricated, as she had been injured, but of course, she had been healed and injured so many times since then that she had forgotten which particular injuries they meant. She still had some serious lesions and second-degree burns she could have showed off, but they might be difficult to explain. Regardless, the concern was nice.
It was almost a welcoming feeling, Pax thought as she read the charts of the patient she was about to operate on. She walked briskly toward the neurosurgery wing of the hospital as she scanned through the files and the imaging from the scans.
She stopped abruptly when she saw someone blocking her path. She looked up and saw a nurse with a chestnut brown braid.
“Dr. Burnson, I brewed some fresh coffee for you.” The girl smiled and handed Pax the mug. “Just the way you like it—black with no sugar. Welcome back!”
Pax studied the woman’s face for a moment to judge whether she was sincere.
“Thank you, Cassidy,” said Pax with a professional smile as she took the coffee and sipped it. It was actually good. Someone had done something considerate for her. She felt very well-received back at work. There really was a place for her here.
“Dr. Burnson, can I interest you in a newspaper?”
“Thanks, Cassidy, but I don’t really have time to read it. I am needed in neurosurgery and I should probably finish reviewing the patient’s charts.”
The nurse forcefully placed the newspaper in the crook of Pax’s arm and gave her a sweet smile.
“Trust me, Dr. Burnson. It’s a great read.’ The brunette winked before traipsing off.
Pax frowned at her retreating form and looked down at the paper. In huge print, a headline jumped out at her:
CEO of Kalgren Technology Cheats on Long Time Girlfriend
Single women everywhere can rejoice, for the handsome blonde businessman is single again. After years of waiting for this moment, Thornton Kalgren may finally be returning to his playboy ways.
Pax didn’t even notice that the ceramic cup she had been holding was now in pieces and that she was standing in a small pool of coffee. It’s official. This day is not really happening. I’m in some kind of alternate-reality nightmare punishment. Her eyes skimmed the article even though she didn't really want to keep reading. Pax was shocked to learn that the column continued inside the paper. Not happening. This is not happening. How could anyone have so much to say on such a subject? She furiously flipped through the paper, completely forgetting that a patient was in neurosurgery with his brain exposed, in desperate need of her medical attention.
There it was. In full color, a candid photo of Thornton holding Para and kissing her cheek.
…a mysterious woman that no one has been able to identify. It is uncanny how much her body and features resemble Miss Burnson, suggesting that Mr. Kalgren does indeed have a "type." Who is this gorgeous goddess with hair that falls down to her knees? No one knows.
Pax studied the picture and fought back the urge to have a temper tantrum right there in the middle of the hospital. So now there is a resemblance between us? Make up your minds people! Pax calmed herself to avoid the paroxysm, for she knew the precision which so many doctors were taking right now in their surgeries and didn’t want to cause a small earthquake.
“Pax?” asked a familiar voice. She
looked up and saw Dr. Winters standing rather close. He’d obviously noticed the picture on the newspaper and the crushed coffee cup in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Winters…”
“It's alright, Paxie. If you aren’t in any condition to go into the operating room right now, I understand. We all know about what happened with Mr. Kalgren…”
Oh! So that’s why they've all been so nice to me. Did he just call me Paxie? Pax felt a twitch of rage as her fellow doctor placed a hand "comfortingly" on her back. I see what this is. This is the reason I was called into work. Single men everywhere rejoice? Bridget Burnson’s heiress is back on the market? He had better be careful, I’m this close.
“I’m fine. What’s the situation Dr. Winters?”
“Please, why won’t you call me Michael?” asked the other doctor, gently prying the pieces of ceramic away from Pax’s clenched fist. “We just need you to get in there and remove a tumor with these beautiful steady fingers of yours.”
Pax frowned as the man made a motion as though he were going to kiss her hand. She jerked her hand away in disgust and slapped the newspaper into his hands before briskly walking away. He didn’t really need me. Anyone could have done this. She just wanted to do the surgery and get back to her jeep. She didn’t know if she could last another minute in this dimension, with these people.
She understood Suja. She wanted to get away from the hospital, away from the city, and away from all of humanity. She almost felt regret for destroying Ishtar, because it was the kind of remote place she wished she could stay.
* * *
Pax had been driving for days, and she was not even sure which country she was in. She had crossed the border back and forth between Canada and the U.S. several times. She played music at the maximum volume in the small chamber, and endeavored to completely block recent events out of her mind.
She often reflected, as she tried to keep from melting her steering wheel, that she was back at square one. Nothing had changed, and she hadn’t learned anything. The whole experiment with Para had only left her with a greater hole in her heart, and feeling like a more incomplete and inadequate person. The situation with Suja had left her questioning her own allegiances and purpose. Pax often remembered Suja’s words, and felt like a waste of space for not doing more with her life. She also felt distanced from her family.
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