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

by P. G. Forte

  “Hey, there you are,” Lisa said with her usual cool smile. “Yeah, it’s good to see you, too. Why don’t you grab a seat.”

  The room looked vaguely familiar. Marsha looked around her curiously. Along one wall, five tall, narrow windows framed a breathtaking view of the Bay. The other walls were covered by a brightly painted mural. The room was sparsely furnished. A couple of vintage sofas, in what looked to be about the same state of disrepair as the one in her office, were clustered in front of a rather large television set. A row of vending machines stood nearby, offering hot and cold drinks, snack foods, candy and cigarettes. A handful of mismatched end tables, two ancient, scarred coffee tables and an eclectic assortment of lamps pretty much rounded out the furnishings.

  Marsha sank down on the nearest couch and tried to pin down the location. It was familiar, but she just couldn’t quite— “Lisa, what is this place?”

  “Senior lounge,” Lisa muttered, her mouth pursed around the cigarette she was lighting. “More or less.”

  “Ohh, yeah. That’s right.” Marsha smiled reminiscently, “Jeez, I’d forgotten all about that.” Then another thought struck her. “But uh... why?”

  “Ahh, you know how it is.” Lisa shrugged. She shook out the match, dropping it into an orange plastic ashtray that Marsha could have sworn had not been on the table a moment earlier, and glanced around the room. “It seemed pretty cool at the time, you know? I could change it, but I’ve kinda gotten used to it, so why bother? Anyway. Getting back to Scout. You really got yourself in over your head on this one, girlfriend. You should have known better than to attempt a chakra link without first checking to make sure she was clear. All that energy should have been neutralized.”

  “I know.” She should have thought of it sooner. She should have remembered something so basic. If only Celeste were there, she’d have reminded her. Marsha sank back against the cushions of the couch and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, weary from her struggle with Scout’s mind. Her heart felt battered by memories of the encounter. Memories of Celeste. Memories of all the other times she’d messed up like this. Would she never learn?

  Lisa snorted in amusement. “Good question. I gotta tell you, we’re looking at a whole lot of negative karma building up out there. This is not a stable situation you’ve created. You guys are gonna be years working this stuff out. And that’s assuming you’ve got that long, because frankly, things are not looking so good for Scout right now. Or Lucy either, as a matter of fact. And as for you—”

  “Oh, shit,” Marsha sat up again, eyes wide, heart pounding, as the implications hit home. “Lisa, we have to do something. If they’re in trouble... what can we do?”

  Lisa frowned. “You know, Marsh, we did talk about this the last time you were here. When was that, again?”

  “The last time I saw you? That would be about twenty years ago.”

  “Bullshit. Blink of an eye. You just gotta get the perspective right.”

  “Yeah, well,” Marsha shrugged. “Whatever. I was in a coma at the time, if you’ll recall. And besides, a lot’s happened since. You expect me to remember every little thing we talked about back then?”

  “I guess you’d better start paying more attention, huh? You know the drill. There are some entities here who feel you’ve been playing a little fast and loose with the rules again, if you wanna know the truth. They think that for someone with your abilities, you’ve maybe been getting a little too involved in other people’s business. You do know what I’m getting at, right? Free will and all that shit?”

  “Sure, Lisa, I know what you’re saying. But sometimes you just have to help people before they can help themselves.”

  “Uh-huh. I think they call that rationalization. And that’s not the point. You know better.”

  “I guess. Maybe.”

  “A word to the wise, chica? Clean up your act. ‘Cause the next time you’re up here, it could very well be the real deal.”

  “Fine. I’ll try. Now, what are we gonna do about Lucy and Scout?”

  “What makes you think we’re gonna do anything?” Lisa asked peevishly, but Marsha could swear she saw a hint of something very like a smile lurking in her eyes. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”

  “Yes,” she answered evenly. “But something tells me that you haven’t altogether moved on yourself.” She looked around the room again and smiled. “I’d say you’ve still got some pretty strong ties to this lifetime.”

  Lisa’s gaze traveled the room as well. She shrugged. “I guess. I have been known to take an interest, every now and again. But don’t go getting all optimistic or anything. You guys have been playing with some serious shit. There’s always gonna be a price to pay for that, you know. Take it from me.”

  She stubbed out her cigarette and jumped off the table. “Now, you’d better get going. I believe you were about to make a phone call, weren’t you?”

  Marsha noticed that the light was getting brighter again. The room began to recede into the haze.

  “And while you’re at it,” Lisa’s voice continued to echo around her, even though Marsha could no longer see her. “You’d better call someone to come out there and take a look at your head. You seem to be leaking, just a little.”

  Leaking? Marsha, chuckled sleepily, as the bright haziness faded slowly back to black. Wasn’t that just like Lisa? Always with the lame jokes. But... owww... she might just have a point about the head thing. Well, okay, she’d definitely get it checked out. And she’d try to remember about that other phone call she was supposed to be making as well. Soon. Real soon. Just as soon as she woke up, in fact. Whenever that happened to be. But what was the hurry? Time was an illusion, after all. Perhaps an even greater illusion than death itself.

  * * *

  So, this is what came of being selfish, Lucy thought, feeling very much aggrieved. She could have been camping right now. Tomorrow morning, she could have woken up to birdsong and sunshine and cool, fresh, pine-scented air.

  And to Dan, climbing back into the sleeping bag they shared. His skin would be cool against her own, but his lips and his fingers as warm and as welcome as the dark, bitter coffee he would bring her in her useless, blue spatterware mug. The one that wouldn’t keep the coffee hot for more than a minute but which she always insisted on using anyway when they camped, because it seemed so authentically rustic.

  But no, she’d chosen to be selfish. To stay at home. And now?

  Now, by tomorrow morning, she’d most likely be dead.

  Dead! She thought about what that would mean. Thought of never seeing her kids again. Or Dan. And, oh God, she just wanted to weep at the unfairness of it all!

  How the fuck had this happened to her, anyway? And how was it that she got to be the lucky one, forced to drive Scout’s car – at gunpoint, yet – while Scout lounged in the backseat?

  Not that there was a whole lot of room for lounging, or anything like it. But at least, in the back seat, there was no one pointing a gun in your side.

  And while she was on the subject, what the hell was up with Scout, anyway? Lucy glanced in the rearview mirror. Look at her. Just sitting there, damn it. Huddled in the corner, quiet as a tick. Just staring out the window. Shouldn’t she be doing... something?

  She felt Glenn shift restlessly beside her, and she returned her gaze to the road. Shit. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the way Scout was going along with everything in so unusually docile a manner. Especially as it was her head that was at risk of being blown off otherwise. It was actually... surprisingly considerate of her. But wasn’t it just the teensiest bit out of character? Not to mention downright stupid? Shouldn’t Scout be running for her life by now? Leaving her to fend for herself?

  Okay, never mind that. Pretend you never thought that. Bad idea. Better think of something else. Something like –

  “Glenn? You really killed Lisa? And... and Robyn, too?” She couldn’t believe she was asking him that, but there had to be a more logical explanation
for what was happening.

  Glenn, a killer? How could they all have missed seeing something like that?

  “Robyn was a mistake,” Glenn muttered angrily. Lucy noticed his hand clenching even more tensely around the gun. Not a good sign. “An accident. I never meant to... but she was walking the dog, damn it! Scout said she was going to walk the dog.” He sent an angry glance her way, but if Scout heard him, she gave no sign of it. “But she sent Robyn out, instead. She tricked me.”

  He sounded pretty upset about that, Lucy thought. And she could relate. Scout did have a way of ticking a person off. But still. “And Celeste? What’d she ever do to you?”

  Glenn’s voice trembled just a bit as he answered. “She knew too much. She could see things.”

  “Yeah, I know. But—”

  “Lucy,” he growled, suddenly impatient. “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

  Lucy lapsed promptly back into silence. Maybe she did talk too much, but nobody had ever said she couldn’t take a hint.

  But shit, not talking left her with too much time to think. And what she kept thinking about was that goddamned gun. It had been better when she was talking. It had been better when she was just blind angry, too. Although, of course, she couldn’t really think as clearly when she got that mad, but... no, actually. There was no but about it. That was the better part – the not thinking clearly. It was much better. And she’d really like to get back to that again.

  So, if she wanted to go back to feeling angry, maybe she should try thinking about Scout. That usually did the trick. Come to think of it, she still could not believe the bitch had laughed when Glenn threatened to shoot her. Yeah, that was the Scout she’d always known and loathed, all right.

  You did say things would end badly...

  Yeah, well, fuck you, too. Like she really needed Scout to tell her what she’d said. Funny thing, though. How did Scout know she’d said it? Would Marsha have told her? Maybe it was something she picked up while they were linked.

  But oh God. What had happened to Marsha, anyway? Could she really be dead? Scout said she wasn’t. Not that you could count on anything she said. But she would know, wouldn’t she, if something had happened to Marsha? If the link had held. But had it?

  Damn. If only Scout hadn’t broken the circle. The powers they’d raised would have protected them, and they could have directed the energy where they wanted it to go. But now? Who the hell knew where it had all gone now? Certainly, she didn’t.

  * * *

  Fey. That was the word. Scout had been thinking and thinking. Fey. Yeah, that’s how she was feeling, all right. Which was maybe good, maybe not so good. It depended on your perspective, she guessed, but –

  What was her point, again? Oh, yes. Too much undirected energy. That was the problem here.

  She turned her head and watched the scenery crawl by outside the window. It being Saturday, travel along the coast road was slow. Terrified tourists in their rental cars crawled around the curves at well below the speed limit, clogging the narrow lanes. She could tell it was making Glenn nervous, the way they had to keep slowing and stopping. It wasn’t doing Lucy’s nerves any good either.

  God, she loved this road.

  Not that she was a huge fan of traffic jams, of course. But normally, when it wasn’t so crowded, she loved the views, the twists and turns, the sweeping curves... .

  Focus! She knew she had to keep her mind on the subject at hand, but it wasn’t easy. How the hell did Marsha do this, anyway? She’d ask, but somehow she had the feeling that Marsha wasn’t quite with her at the moment. Not dead, she didn’t think – although she was by no means as certain of that now as she had been earlier – but not real helpful, either.

  Still, even without Marsha’s help, she ought to be able to do something with all these extra senses, and all this mindless energy swirling around her and through her. They should be useful, but at the moment, they were merely annoying.

  The road curved again and the ocean swung back into view. Now, that was a sight. Lots of sailboats out there today. Looked like some good wind. Oh, man, she’d always wanted one of those. Too bad.

  Focus. Yeah, that was the trick, all right. Hadn’t she been having a hard enough time these last couple of days just keeping her own emotions in check? Now she had Marsha’s to deal with, as well. And occasionally Lucy’s.

  And most of Glenn’s, too, just to top it all off. And she really could have done without that. Sure, it was a good thing, in a way, being able to know what he was thinking, and all; But oh, she’d so much rather not have his thoughts and memories in her mind.

  Her heart constricted in pain as the images began to form once again in her head. She saw the shock on Robyn’s face, bright in the headlights, just before the car struck her. She felt Celeste struggle – actually felt the pounding of her pulse in her own hands – as Glenn squeezed her throat. She felt her strength begin to wane, felt her go heavy and limp. And then she watched Marsha fall, as well. Saw her sprawled face down on the daybed, blood trickling down the back of her neck.

  Scout shivered in anguish, and tried once more to turn the pictures off, but her mind was a twisted wreck, and she could not make it stop. Over and over again she heard the screech of metal, the squeal of tires as first her father’s car, then Marsha’s, then hers were struck from behind. And over and over again she heard the echo of Lisa’s head striking rock, until she thought she’d go insane.

  Desperate, she forced herself to back away. To view Glenn with dispassion. Jeez, wasn’t he a trip, though? Cats! What was he thinking? And all those accidents he’d arranged for her? The car. The stove. The basement stairs. And... had he really thought she’d go to bed with him again? After all of that? Who’d have guessed that he was such a total psycho?

  Although, she supposed it could be he was just your average jerk, with twenty years’ worth of guilt and craziness taking its toll on his brain. She knew what that could do to a person, all right.

  She quashed the faint trace of empathy as it tried to surface. She didn’t care if that was the case. A savage anger burned within her – in that part of her mind that ached with loss, with pain, with remorse. Crazy or not, guilty or not, jerk or not, she was taking him down.

  She was a woman with a mission. A mission, maybe, but no clue. No real plan, either.

  But oh, fuck that. Here was a plan for you. If worse came to worse, she’d go down with him. Kamikaze his ass straight into hell. Gladly. No problem. She knew just how to get them there.

  Not like she’d be much of a loss to anyone, after all. But that was just self-pity talking, and she didn’t have the time for that right now either, damn it.

  Gotta stay focused. She took a deep, deep breath. The big problem, she could tell, was going to be keeping her mind from continually drifting off like this. And also, keeping Lucy from getting caught in the middle of whatever went down.

  She had a feeling Lucy was going to be difficult. Which would be typical. Oh, shit. If only she hadn’t gotten rid of her cell phone. It would have been really helpful to have that on hand.

  They had turned off into the canyon. Not much longer now. Anticipation prickled her skin. She knew just where he’d do it.

  Ah, damn. Of all places. She felt her mind stretch out and flow into everything around her. Felt it flow into the hard, yellow sandstone and the pungent gray-green sage. Into the live oaks with their hidden caches of mistletoe, and the rolling, grass-covered hills.

  It was almost impossible to maintain any kind of focus when everything within her was striving to reach out and merge with the life-force she could sense pulsating in every rock and tree and bush and blade of grass. Everything was so beautiful, so perfect.

  Why, oh why, did it have to be here?

  On the other hand, she had to die somewhere, didn’t she? It could be worse. At least she had fond memories of the place.

  She really had to hand it to Glenn. This wasn’t such a bad plan. As far as spur-of-the-moment
homicidal psycho plans went, it didn’t suck. If things worked the way he expected them to – and it was a little hard to see why they wouldn’t – everybody would assume she’d killed Robyn, and the others, in a fit of insanity. And that she’d been attempting to kidnap Lucy when she’d somehow lost control of her car and run the two of them off the road.

  Of course, it only made sense if you bought into the scenario that she was crazy, but that was the real beauty of the plan. All week long, Lucy had been telling everyone who’d listen that Robyn had been afraid for exactly that reason. Hell, she’d even told the police about it!

  Of course, that was just Nick and he probably wouldn’t believe it. Except, maybe he would, if something happened to Lucy. And, oh God, the guilt would just about kill him.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  She took several deep breaths and tried to calm down. She’d just make sure Lucy didn’t get hurt, that’s all. No matter what else happened, she had to save Lucy’s ass. For Nick’s sake, if nothing else.

  It might be okay, if she could just keep Lucy very angry. She’d had a nice protective anger going back at the house. It shouldn’t be too hard to keep that stoked. She’d had lots of practice making Lucy mad, after all.

  They were almost there now. The canyon had never looked so lovely. Everything green and gold under the hard, blue, limitless sky. No wildflowers, though. Not that there would be. Not at this time of the year.

  Not like the first time.

  She was a little sorry about that, because she really would have liked to have seen them one last time.

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