by Dale Mayer
He shook his head rapidly. “Oh, no, no, no, no. When Sebastian says he needs help, we help.”
She chuckled. “That’s good to know.”
Juan led her to an upholstered chair and said, “Now sit down. Let me take a look.”
She looked at the chair, then at him. “It’s much easier if I stand,” she admitted.
His gaze sharpened. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
With a hesitant look in Sebastian’s direction, she nodded and proceeded to tell Juan about walking out into the traffic without looking and getting nudged by the car.
At the word nudged, Sebastian snorted. “You can see how she can barely move that side of her body. The whole way here, she moved slower. She’ll seize up in agony in no time.”
“That we can deal with,” Juan said. He glanced at her. “I have to lift your shirt.”
She nodded and leaned sideways so he could lift her clothing out of the way. It was just a loose tank top, thankfully, a light, filmy material he could lift easily. But she studied his face as he watched her skin appear.
A grim look came over him.
She asked, “Does it look bad?”
Sebastian strode forward so he could take a closer look.
She twisted and then gasped at the pain it caused. “Okay. So I don’t get to look myself,” she muttered.
“No,” Sebastian said, his fingers gentle as he took over holding up her shirt while the doctor poked and prodded.
Pain lanced through her when he got to her ribs. But she was determined to not get sent to a hospital because of a busted rib and her own stupidity. She gritted her teeth and, with neither of the men focused on her face, she scrunched it up to stop herself from crying out.
Juan asked, “What about your legs?”
Sebastian lowered her shirt, and she straightened slightly, lifting her left leg as instructed.
He said, “I need to see your hip.”
She nodded grimly. “I landed on my hip, but I think I took the initial blow on the ribs.”
“What kind of vehicle was it?”
“A van,” she said with a frown. “Some kind of a delivery van, I think.”
He nodded and gently lowered her shorts to her knees so she stood before both men in her underwear. Embarrassed, yes, but in too much pain to care.
He poked and prodded some more. “Nothing’s broken,” he announced as he slowly pulled her shorts back up. “But you’ll turn many shades of green and purple over the next week. You’ll need heavy muscle relaxants. Otherwise you can’t get out of bed in the morning nor will you sleep.” He helped her to turn around slowly. “Now sit.”
She sat slowly, trying hard not to cry.
“You must feel terrible.” His voice was sympathetic and caring. “You take a blow like that from the vehicle, and then you get hit by the road as well—that’s a second blow. Your body is in shock. Your muscles have tightened up because of the injuries. You’ll have swelling with a lot of soreness.” Then he glanced down at her feet and frowned. He crouched down. “Your feet too?”
She leaned forward. “I don’t remember my foot being injured.”
“They’re both scraped and bleeding.” He unbuckled her sandal and removed it from her foot. “Wait a minute. I’ll get some antiseptic water for a foot soak.” He hurried away.
She sighed as she looked at her feet. “Are you going to send me home to the States?” she asked Sebastian in a low voice. She felt more than saw his startled surprise. That was a good thing. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so inclined to cut short her visit.
Now she wished she hadn’t mentioned that. Suddenly he crouched in front of her, that magnetic gaze of his locked on hers. “I should, you know.”
She stared at him. “Why?” Her voice was low, plaintive. “I’ve been looking forward to this trip forever.”
He nodded. “Chana told me. I understand how you feel about it, but some really serious issues are happening at the site, and you’ve been hurt once now. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“That’s not likely, surely? And,” she added after a moment’s hesitation, “it was my fault. It’s not like somebody did this to me. I’m the fool who stepped out into the traffic.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I guess there’s no hope of you having seen the driver?”
She shook her head. “Honestly I think he drove away, not realizing. I’m probably such a lightweight he didn’t even know he hit me.”
At that Sebastian snorted. “Oh, he knew. He definitely knew. I wonder if anybody else caught sight of him.”
“I doubt it,” she said. “But I can’t be sure. You’d have to ask them.”
Just then the doctor returned with a basin filled with warm water. He placed the basin down in front of her and said, “Put your foot in it carefully.” He unbuckled her other sandal, removed it from her foot, noticed she had scrapes and scratches along that calf. “You soak. I’ll get antibiotics to clean this off. Then we’ll take a look and put some ointment on it for you.” He disappeared once again.
She sat there, her eyes closed, loving the warmth on her feet. She knew she should be home in bed, but right now this was worth the trip over. The thought of walking to the apartment was almost heartbreaking.
“We’ll see how you feel in the morning,” Sebastian said abruptly.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “I really don’t want to be here.” She didn’t understand what was going on behind that deep gaze of his, but she could see a turmoil she didn’t understand. “Surely it’s not that big a deal.”
The doctor returned again, cleaned the scrapes on both legs, checked her over again, making sure nothing else needed to be attended to. As he lowered her shirt once again, he said, “How are your feet doing now?”
She wiggled her toes and admitted, “They’re much better.” She lifted her feet and saw they were also a little puffy.
“I’d say you should stay off your feet for the next few days, but I doubt you’d listen to me.”
“Nope, I won’t,” she said, laughing. “I spent too long trying to get here.”
He nodded as if nothing she said would surprise him.
She glanced at Sebastian and quirked, “You must have brought in some interesting characters if he assumes I’m like the rest of them and won’t listen to his instructions.”
He shook his head but remained silent.
She shrugged and watched as the doctor dried her feet and put an ointment on her toes, which he then bandaged. In a surprising move he took her sandals, placed them in the water, giving them a quick disinfectant washing, and then banged them together to knock off the water and put her feet back inside them.
The doctor said. “Better to have them cleaned off and not bring any possible infection with them.”
It made logical sense, but it felt weird to stand up in wet shoes. “I’ll track water all over your floor.”
“Could be worse,” he said cheerfully. “You could be tracking blood.”
She winced, “Good point.”
“I want to see you in a couple days if other injuries arise. Do you hear me?”
She nodded. “I can manage that. I don’t know how to pay you.”
“It’s already taken care of,” the doctor said with a wave of his hand at Sebastian. “That’s his problem, not yours.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. She felt bad as it was. She’d hardly been working for him when she got hit. But it wasn’t the time or the place for that conversation.
Moving slowly she made it to the doctor’s elevator. Sebastian pressed the button so they could go back down. It opened, and they stepped inside. She waved at the doctor, and they sank slowly out of sight.
“He’s very nice,” she murmured.
“He is. Very caring. He’s the epitome of a man doing what he should be doing. He has the right personality and passion for it.”
She thought about that and nodded. “I agree. It’s not always easy to know what on
e should be doing in life.”
“Chana said you’re a teacher?”
“Yes. My parents adamantly discouraged me from going into archaeology, so the closest I could get was being a history teacher,” she said with a laugh.
“That’s too bad. There’s still quite a field left for those with the right passion for it.”
“When Chana went into it, it was like watching her do what she was supposed to do and feeling like I’d missed my opportunity.”
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out.
She caught his intense gaze and smiled. “I am okay, you know.”
He seemed to relax. “Maybe,” he said, “but I feel responsible nonetheless.”
“Why?” she asked. “It’s not like you were there. You didn’t push me into the vehicle.”
“Do you think anybody pushed you?” he asked.
She frowned. “Honestly I felt a nudge, but it was so light it couldn’t have been a push. I think it was just us jostling for space to cross the road.” Her smile brightened. “Besides, I was with the team. It’s not like anybody there would hurt me.”
He nodded but kept his thoughts to himself.
He was so hard to read. Normally she was good at understanding what people were thinking, but, in his case, it was like a blank slate. “So you’ll let me stay?”
He slid a glance at her.
She shrugged. “I know I’m pestering you. But I won’t sleep tonight if I’m afraid you’ll send me back tomorrow.”
“You can stay,” he said abruptly. “But if anything else happens …”
“It won’t happen to me,” she said “There’s no way. I only have a couple weeks here as it is.”
“Chana said you’re on vacation?”
She nodded. “I am. I have the whole summer off. Chana explained how this job was only for two weeks.” She looked at him hopefully. “Unless you can use my services longer?”
“No cats to look after at home?”
“No. The family cat, my mother’s baby, passed away just a month before my mother did.”
She was so lost in the memory that she didn’t realize he’d clasped her hand with his own. He squeezed her fingers and said, “I’m sorry. That’s a double loss.”
“It is, and one certainly is more minor to the other, but together they were a double blow.” She was about to step forward again into the street, but he caught her and held her close. She looked up and sighed. “That’s what I did last time too.”
He didn’t say anything, and they waited until the traffic had cleared; then he escorted her across the street.
As they walked to the apartment, she asked with a frown, “Are you coming up?”
“Not to your apartment. I have my own on the same floor.” He took her to her apartment door. “He gave me medications.” He handed her two bottles. One was a muscle relaxant, the other painkillers. He pointed out the labels on each. “Two painkillers to be taken every four hours, two right now and go to bed. If you wake up in the middle of night, take two more. Same for the muscle relaxants.”
She smiled, thanked him and went to open the door. It was unlocked. Of course it was. She wasn’t with Chana, and Chana would have been inside waiting for her.
But Sebastian didn’t like it. “Do you have a key?”
She shook her head. “No. I just arrived last night. I don’t even know how many keys there are for the apartment.”
“Lots,” he said. “Keeping track of them is a pain in the ass.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “I can imagine. If you have lots of interns back and forth, that must be hard.” She walked inside, turned and smiled up at him. “Thanks again. And good night.” She went to close the door, but he put his foot inside.
“I need to check to make sure everything’s okay.”
Disturbed and wondering why he was so protective, she watched as he circled the living room. Chana’s bedroom door was open. She was asleep on the bed, easily visible from the hall. The men’s bedroom was also open, and both beds occupied. The place was silent and calm.
“Satisfied?”
His lips quirked, and he nodded his head. “At least I’ve checked. Now get to sleep.” He then turned and walked out.
*
Something was wrong with the apartment. Sebastian took the stairs back outside to track whatever energy he’d seen in there earlier. That was disturbing. How long had it been since somebody had been in that place? And who had left the energy? And when? And why was it leaving a trail? All questions that normally he’d have answers to, but he wasn’t getting any. Just that it was old energy. He hadn’t seen it on any of his team, and he didn’t know if it was masking itself or if he had yet to see whoever had that energy.
He’d started seeing auras as a child but didn’t understand what they were. It’s only later he got an inkling of how different his view of his world was to others and delved deeper into the field. Who knew there could be so many differences between people?
When he had first opened the door, he had seen a little faint energy, footprints on the tile floor, so he’d gone in to check. But whatever it was, the energy, the footprints, had led right back out again. He hadn’t seen them as he and Lacey had come up the elevator, just that they had been up here on the third floor. And he hadn’t asked her about it either. But now it would be hard for him to sleep. He hadn’t seen footprints like that since the Mayan ruins. Footprints glowed from the vestiges of energy of the spirit walking. He’d been new to auras and footprints at the Mayan dig, he often wondered if that dig hadn’t brought it all into his awareness.
Almost every dig since had some paranormal events too, but minor. He’d often wondered if he’d attracted them. It was a disconcerting thought.
But there was something familiar about these footprints. It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be. But … his mind was already saying it was.
And that was too disturbing to contemplate.
All energy had a unique signature. But sometimes events or spirits could hide or transform that signature to something or someone else. He knew there had to be something missing here. Because there’s no way that could be the same signature he’d seen before …
Yet it was close enough to make his stomach heave.
He had a quick shower and got ready for bed. But, as predicted, couldn’t sleep. He rose, entered his bedroom and pulled out his laptop and turned it on, checked his emails and responded to a couple that needed to be done now. Then he looked at his saved documents on his notes from the Mayan files. There were two versions: the official notes, and then there were his paranormal notes. As he delved into them, it took a frustrating ten minutes to find the references he was looking for.
But finally he read his own words from ten years ago. The footprints glowed as they led across the temple floors. So he hadn’t been wrong.
Of course there was no note on the identity of the signature—he hadn’t understood that unique identifying appearance to each back then. Even if he had, it’s not as if he could say in what way it was unique.
There was no visible sign in the physical world, but, in the paranormal world, the footprints could be easily seen. He hadn’t seen them at the restaurant or on the way to his buddy’s place. But now that he’d come back to the apartment building, they were here—or rather he was not seeing them. He wondered if he should move everybody to a new place.
Who had been in the crew’s apartment recently? The landlord, cleaning ladies and any number of guests or friends of the team probably. He opened a document and wrote down every person who could have been in Lacey’s apartment the past day.
And then he stopped and considered … Were the footprints fresh, as in the last day? Or, since he had not been in that apartment building in weeks, could the footprints be older? It shouldn’t be so strong as to stay around that long. Most times energy dissipated within hours—a day at the most. And with that thought uppermost, he widened the list of potential people in the apartment building t
o weeks ago. Intuitively he figured they had been there recently, as in since all the problems at the site had started. But he couldn’t be too careful. Nothing made any sense, yet he knew it would. Eventually.
He shut down his computer and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water before bed. Usually his instincts were decent. He contacted Jeremiah, asking about his plan, adding:
Mayan dig incidents are happening here at Pompeii dig.
So Golden Boy needs my help?
Sebastian ignored his taciturn tone, noting Jeremiah’s attitude was getting worse. But Jeremiah always came through for Sebastian. So he let Jeremiah know about all the incidents so far and what Sebastian had just come up with.
Almost instantly his response was WTF?
Sebastian chuckled. Right? Not sure what the hell is going on, but it’s serious.
No, that’s not serious. That’s sinister. That’s deadly. That’s evil.
I know. It’s early days. I don’t have any answers. I don’t even know what questions to ask to get those answers.
Of course you know how I’ve visited Pompeii many, many times over the decades. I was just there ten days ago, and nothing had gone wrong. So what’s changed? Do you want me to come over?
Not yet. Sebastian tapped his fingers on the counter. But I might need you here if things get any worse.
I can come to Naples now.
Sebastian made a sudden decision. If you don’t mind …
Hell no. I’m not going through that shit again. Better to stop it now.
Right. That’s what I was thinking myself.
I’m only a few hours away.
Check in with me once you arrive or after you get a feel for things here.
Not a problem, Jeremiah answered. I’ll see you soon.
Sebastian put his empty water glass in the dishwasher and turned off lights in the apartment as he reached his bedroom, stretching out on his bed to attempt to sleep again. But his mind burned with the painful Mayan expedition memories. It had been his first experience into supernatural events, and, as an initiation, it had been terrifying. He’d spoken to many experts afterward, but, without anything to show for what he’d gone through, some of them had been dubious of his claims, while others had been excited and wanted to go back in, yet only one person had understood the trauma Sebastian had gone through. Stefan.
