Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  There was no warning this time, either. Just like last time, and the time before that, the torrent of emotions she’d been trying to suppress exploded through her.

  Only this time, they weren’t just her own emotions, and she had no chance of stemming the flood.

  Scout was on her feet and running for the door before either of the others had a chance to react. The circle was blasted to pieces. The candles guttered and went out, and the cats disappeared from the room in a flurry of screaming fur.

  Through the open French doors, Lucy could see Scout, already halfway across the lawn, headed for the trees. Adrenaline surged through her, pulling her to her feet as well. She should go after her. She had to go after her. But—

  Her glance went back to Marsha, who was still lying on the floor. She hesitated. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” Marsha struggled to sit up, schooling her features to give nothing away. “Go on. I’m fine.”

  But as soon as Lucy sprinted out the door, Marsha collapsed on the floor again. Her head was splitting and everywhere inside her violent energy churned and swirled.

  God, she felt nauseated. She had caught just a glimpse of what Scout had seen, or sensed, at the very end there, but it had been enough. They had their answers now.

  She struggled to her feet, and grabbed her bag from the daybed. They were going to need help. She had just retrieved her cell phone when she felt the blow against the back of her head. Light exploded behind her eyes as she pitched forward into blackness.

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  * * * *

  Chapter Thirty Two

  * * * *

  By the time Lucy caught up with her, Scout had reached the pond in the woods. She would have waded right into it if Lucy hadn’t pulled her back.

  “Let me go!” Scout sobbed, fighting to get free. “She’s in there. He threw her in there. I have to get her out.”

  “Who’s in where?” Lucy asked. “The pond? What are you talking about? Who are you talking about?”

  “Lisa. Or Robyn. Maybe both. I don’t know.” Scout collapsed on the bank, sobbing in Lucy’s arms. “I don’t know, I don’t know... I only know... he killed them.”

  “Who did?” Lucy asked again, barely resisting the urge to shake her. “Is it someone you know? Someone you recognized? Tell me, damn it.”

  “I saw it happen.” Scout’s eyes were wide and empty, as if her mind was far away. “Right here. He killed her. Lisa didn’t go anywhere, Lucy. She’s been here the whole time.”

  “What?” Slow waves of fear and disbelief began to wash through Lucy. She shook her head. “No. No, that’s not possible. Listen to me, Scout, calm down. Don’t you remember? Lisa ran away.”

  Scout looked at her, pityingly. “Oh, Lucy. No, she never did. She never even planned to.” And then she was weeping again, lost in some private vision that Lucy could neither see nor, really, even believe in.

  “Scout, c’mon,” she snapped. “That makes no sense at all. She sent me a letter. You don’t send letters to people if you’re dead! I don’t know what you think you saw, or found out, or remembered, but it makes no sense.”

  “She didn’t mail the letter.” Scout’s voice sounded firmer now. Her sobbing had almost stopped, and Lucy thought her eyes had regained something like their usual focus. But still, she wasn’t making any sense. “She wrote that note in school, only she never got a chance to pass it to you, did she? He found it in her stuff.

  “He mailed it to you... to make everyone believe she’d only gone away after... after she was already dead.”

  Lucy wanted to be compassionate. She really did. But her temper had always been far too short, and her nerves were already frayed by the day’s events.

  “You just don’t want it to be your fault,” she said, her voice harsh, cracking, but still hardly more than a whisper. “That’s why you’re saying this. Why you’ve imagined this whole thing. You made it up. And… and just who is he, anyway?” She wasn’t even sure she wanted to hear the answer to that one. Something about the look in Scout’s eyes, the anguish in her tone, was making her wish she’d never asked.

  “I never knew.” Scout’s voice was just a whisper now as well, filled with pain and sorrow and regret. “And it was my fault, Lucy. It really was. Because, I was his alibi. And all the time – All this time, I thought he was mine.”

  “Yours?” Lucy could barely get the word past her lips. Surely she didn’t mean... she couldn’t mean that...

  “My alibi,” Scout said softly, sadly. She glanced up at Lucy and blinked. Her eyes refocused, an expression of horrified surprise transfixed her face. “Jesus, Lucy, what are you thinking?”

  “Who... who are you talking about?” Lucy croaked.

  “Well, Glenn, of course. Who’d you think I meant?”

  “Glenn? You’re telling me Glenn killed Lisa?” Lucy knew only an instant of confused relief before another voice rang out from several feet away, sending cold chills down her spine.

  “I knew you’d figure it out. I knew it. You were all so close. You were all so smart. That’s why I knew I had to kill the rest of you, as well.”

  Glenn? Oh, shit. Lucy turned her head and saw him standing there. Breathing hard. The gun in his hand pointed at them both.

  “I would have gotten you years ago, Lucy. If that damned cousin of yours hadn’t stopped me,” Glenn continued coldly. “But he’s not here now, is he?”

  Lucy knew she should be afraid. She stared at him, stared at the gun he held. Time slowed to a crawl as she took in every detail. The slight tremble in his hand. The choppiness of his breathing. The glassy blankness in his eyes. She knew she ought to be very, very afraid. Hell, anyone with a single grain of sense would be frightened at a time like this. But she’d already been through confusion and fear and horror and relief…

  And then he had surprised her, sneaking up on them in the middle of the woods, and she hadn’t ever really liked surprises. They tended to make her angry, even at the best of times.

  And this was not – not by any definition she could ever imagine – the best of times.

  She got to her feet, only distantly aware of Scout sinking back to the ground beside her, softly sobbing once again. She stood and faced Glenn across a seemingly endless space littered with twigs and dead leaves.

  Fury made her voice shake. “Glenn, you stupid son-of-a-bitch, put that fucking gun away before you hurt someone. If you think I need my cousin, or anyone else to kick your sorry ass, you can damn well think again.” Reaching a hand down, she grabbed Scout’s arm and hauled her to her feet.

  For a fraction of a second, Scout felt Glenn waver. His gaze dropped to the gun in his hand, and he hesitated. She saw a dark, unfathomable expression pass across his face; there one instant, and just as quickly gone again.

  “Oh. Yeah. That’ll happen,” he scoffed. “Get real, Lucy. And both of you – get moving! Now.”

  He was upset. Angry. Frightened. Scout could sense the panic that gripped him. It rolled off him in waves. A sticky, viscous substance, slimy and dense and oddly familiar. She could almost smell the guilt and desperation that clung to him. She tried to track down the vague scent memory that was tickling the back of her mind, but she was practically in sensory overload, just trying to catalog all the impressions that came at her from every direction. It was irritating. And confusing. And more than a little distracting.

  The expanded vision she’d been experiencing ever since she’d first linked with Marsha allowed her to see currents of energy flickering around each of them.

  Interesting. Lucy’s anger was neither murky nor dense, but bright and clear, just like last time. Only then, it had been Lisa who had been angry. And Glenn hadn’t really meant to hurt her.

  But how did she know that? She couldn’t possibly know it, but she did. Just as surely as if she had been there –

  She shuddered, hearing that sound again. The sound of a skull striking rock. Lisa’s skull. She saw her body jerk and fall still. Saw her blood
as it seeped out onto the ground. And, oh God, she was going to be sick. She felt his sickness, too. Felt his panic, which then became her panic. Felt his remorse, his horror. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, no. But all the same, once it had –

  Once again, the scene unfolded, and she had no choice but to watch – helpless to interfere – as Glenn weighted Lisa’s clothes with rocks and rolled her into the water. No!

  While Lisa’s body sank beneath the cold, black surface, Glenn scuffed dirt and leaves over the bloody ground where her head had lain. Just as he was about to throw Lisa’s bag, with all her books and papers into the pond after her, Scout heard the sound of footsteps hurrying along the path from the school. Footsteps coming his way. And she knew he couldn’t let anyone find him there. She tasted his fear, sharp and bitter on her tongue, as he grabbed up the bag and tried to hide among the trees. But beneath the fear there was anger. This was Lisa’s fault. She made him do this! And he wouldn’t go to jail for her mistakes. He knew what he had to do. And Scout knew it, as well. He’d kill again, if he had to.

  Before he’d let anyone find out what he’d done, what he’d become, he’d kill again.

  He really didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t his fault! In order to protect himself, to save himself, he’d have to kill. And kill. And kill again. Until he was safe.

  Scout snapped back to the present. They were out of the woods now, heading back across the lawn toward the house. She was startled to see that it was still early in the afternoon and not almost sunset.

  Everywhere she looked she saw an endless confusion of flickering energy. It came from everything around her –from the plants in the garden, from the cats prowling restlessly on the patio. And it was fascinating. But she had to force herself to pay attention. Why was Glenn taking them back toward the house? If Marsha saw them coming –

  Her head throbbed suddenly, as though it were on the verge of exploding. Awareness flickered within her mind. She looked at Glenn and she knew. Marsha. Oh, God, no…

  Ignoring the pain and the flood of images that poured through her, ignoring the startled look on Lucy’s face, she rounded angrily on Glenn. “She’s not dead.”

  He didn’t even ask who she meant. “Yes, she is,” he insisted mulishly. “Damn it, she has to be! I thought I’d gotten rid of her once before, when I ran her car off the road. Like I tried to do to you. But the two of you’ve got more lives than a cat.” He shivered violently. “I hate cats.”

  Scout shivered as well. Oh, hell yes. She knew exactly what he meant. They were such nasty, evil, creeping beasts. Except… why was she thinking that? She didn’t feel that way about cats, or about anything, really.

  But the feelings were there, just the same; lodged somewhere deep inside her.

  “What’re you two talking about?” Lucy demanded. “Who’s not dead?”

  Scout sensed the rush of anger as it sizzled along Lucy’s nerves, following the path of her fear. She knew she should be glad for it, but this wasn’t the time.

  “No one. Keep moving.” Glenn growled at her.

  Scout could smell the guilt that rose like steam from his skin. She felt a moment of panic as all her senses went on the alert. No. Not yet. Not here.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Glenn.” Lucy continued to insist. “Not ‘til you tell me—”

  “Your friend Marsha, all right? And, she is too dead. Happy? Now move it, Lucy. Or I swear you’ll be next. Don’t make me—”

  “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you, then? You miserable son-of-a-bitch!”

  Oh, shit. “He’s a son-of-a-bitch, for sure, Lucy,” Scout soothed, grabbing her arm and pulling her along. “But right now he’s a son-of-a-bitch with a gun. So why don’t we just do what he says, okay? And Glenn, where the hell are we going?” She was pretty sure she knew, but she needed to hear him say it, anyway. Needed to distract him, keep him talking, get his mind off Lucy and keep it off – for as long as possible.

  “We’re going for a little drive,” he said, still training a wary eye on Lucy. “Out to one of the canyons.”

  Just as she thought. Perfect. “It won’t work, you know.” Scout was amazed at how unafraid she was, but that was Lucy’s doing. The moment she’d grabbed hold of her arm, Scout had felt Lucy’s anger as it surged through both of them, making everything burn brighter and more clearly, blocking out the other emotions. All the pain and anxiety that still had the power to confuse her. Good. “My car’s not here, and no one is going to believe I kidnapped Lucy if we take her car. Or yours, either, for that matter. So, why don’t we just—”

  “Scout, Scout, Scout. You think you’re just so smart, don’t you?” Glenn shook his head at her, a sorry little smile twisting up the corners of his mouth. “I’m way ahead of you, sweetheart. I always was. Your car’s here, all right. I stopped by the garage on my way over and picked it up. Even mentioned that you were thinking of taking a little trip out of town. And now, like I said, the three of us are going for a drive. Not very far. Just out in the canyons. And if you try anything funny, anything at all, I’m gonna shoot your friend here right in the head.”

  Well, she couldn’t help but laugh at that! She really couldn’t. She knew it wasn’t the time or the place, but oh, dear. Poor Lucy! Scout read the outrage on Lucy’s face, felt it flare to life within her.

  “Well, but you know, Luce,” she said, still giggling, “You did say things would end badly. And now, it sure does look like you were right. Well, it does, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, go to hell, Scout,” Lucy bristled.

  But Scout merely laughed again. “Oh, no thanks. Not again. Not just yet, anyway.”

  She’d been to hell. It was icy cold and left a taste in your mouth like ashes. She wasn’t in any great hurry to get back there. And next time, she definitely wasn’t going there alone. She felt such lovely stinging heat – Lucy’s anger – it warmed her through and through.

  “My, God.” Through the heat and the laughter, Scout could hear Lucy’s voice dripping with disgust. “Scout. Have you always been this insane?”

  “Well, no, actually. I don’t think so.” She thought about it. Maybe she was, at that. Certainly the amorphous plan forming in her head was nothing a sane person would consider. Unless she’d run out of other options. “But believe me, I’m working real hard on that angle.”

  * * *

  Nick buried himself in paperwork; anything to keep his mind off the depressing scene in his kitchen this morning. And the even more depressing prospect that he’d be returning alone tonight to an empty apartment. By mid-afternoon, he felt as if he were making real progress. He could go for a whole ten minutes at a clip without thinking about her, as long as nothing happened in between times to remind him. He was about three minutes into one of these Halcyon periods when the phone on his desk rang.

  “Uh, yeah...” an unfamiliar voice addressed him hesitantly. “This is Mike over at Village Auto Service? You asked me to, uh, you know... to let you know about that car. The one that came in earlier this week?”

  Car? What car? It took a moment, but he finally made the connection. This was about Scout’s car. Great. Just what he needed. Another reminder.

  “Uh yeah, Mike. What’s up?”

  “Yeah, well, uh... I guess the lady who dropped it off must be getting ready to leave town or somethin’? ‘Least that’s what the guy who came and got it said.”

  Leave town? For a moment, Nick’s mind went blank. Then it hit him. Rage exploded in his head. Scout was leaving town! Well, fine then. Just fine! Fuck it. Let her leave, if that’s what she wanted. The sooner the better. See if he cared. Just as well, really. One thing less for him to worry about.

  Because as far as he knew no one outside of Oberon had any reason for wanting her dead.

  “I would’ve called you sooner,” Mike said, still stumbling a little over his words. “Like you said to, right? Except... well, I guess I was on my break, or something, when he picked it up. I only just found out about it. Sorry about that.”r />
  “No, that’s okay, Mike. Not a problem. Thanks.” Nick sighed, ready to hang up the phone and go back to his paperwork. Determined to put it all out of his mind. No reason to be surprised, was there? He already figured he’d be going home alone. He just hadn’t known he’d be this much alone. And, well, it was a surprise, come to think of it. She’d at least seemed committed to hanging around until they managed to track down Robyn. And her sister. And—

  Finally, Nick’s brain caught up with his ears. Adrenaline flooded through his system. “Wait! Hold on a minute, Mike. Who’d you say picked up that car?”

  * * *

  “Hey there, Marsha. Time to wake up, girlfriend.” A familiar voice spoke softly in her ear, but Marsha couldn’t see anything through the bright haze that surrounded her. Must be a white-out, she mused, her thoughts as foggy as the scene. Anyway, she didn’t need to see. She’d recognize the voice anywhere. It was Lisa’s, of course.

  But that was impossible. It must be this headache that was making her so stupid.

  “Lisa? What are you doing here?”

  “Uh, no, Marsh... Actually, I’m afraid it’s kinda the other way around.”

  The other way… “D’you mean I’m... I’m dead? Oh, you’re kidding, right? Again?” Damn, her head hurt. She couldn’t make sense of anything, except – she couldn’t be dead, could she? Not with her head aching like this. Why did it have to hurt so much? And where the heck was Scout? She was supposed to be here, wasn’t she? Somewhere?

  “Yeah, well. As it happens, we kinda have to talk about that,” Lisa’s voice came out of the haze again. “You bringing Scout back into this shit? Not such a bright idea, as it turns out. Matter of fact, as far as bright ideas go, this one sorta sucks.”

  “Tell me about it,” Marsha groaned. The fog was beginning to lift a little, or maybe her eyes were just adjusting to the light; she couldn’t be sure. But gradually the scene around her drifted into focus. She could see Lisa – looking not a day over seventeen – as beautiful as ever, perched on the edge of a beige metal utility table in the corner of a large, sunny room. Her feet were planted on one of the half dozen folding chairs that had been pulled up to the table. Her arms rested casually on her knees.