Retribution of Soul: Book 3 of the In-Between

by Senese, Rebecca M.

  “Wait,” Sebastian said but Nigel had already moved into the hallway. Hanson finished his tea and set the cup on the counter.

  “I’ve got calls to make,” he said and followed Nigel.

  “I’d better tell my people,” Shelly said. She left by the back door.

  Joan picked up the teapot and carried it back to the table. She sat in the chair Nigel had vacated.

  “Unintended consequences,” she said. “We never know what they’ll be. More tea?”

  Sebastian pushed his cup away. “No thanks.”

  He fled back up the stairs to his room. He shut the door and leaned on it. What the hell had he done? He’d just given his opinion, said they should take out a nest and now they seemed to expect him to go along, like he was some expert. He could see it in the way they looked at him, at the way they deferred to him.

  As if he knew what he was doing.

  When the hell had that happened?

  He had to get out of here. He had to get home but they’d never let him go now, at least not until after clearing out the nest. Then there would be the debrief, reviewing the fight, seeing if there was anything new they could learn about the vampires to take forward into the next fight. That always took at least a day or more to finish the full reconstruction of the battle. They’d make him stay for that. By then it would be time to head to Rome and they’d drag him off there.

  He was never getting out of here.

  Don’t panic. His heart was already starting to pound in his chest. The way things were going it could be another eight months before he managed to get free of the In-Between. He couldn’t wait that long.

  Certainly Alexa wouldn’t.

  He had to go now. No more waiting. He had to go while everyone was gathering their forces. He could slip out before they realized it. Only when they were ready to go would they notice he wasn’t there. If he went now he might be able to get an hour’s head start.

  And what about Jessica?

  He’d have to leave her behind. But... how could he?

  She’d understand. Especially when she talked to the others. At least he hoped she’d understand, but that didn’t make it any easier. Even thinking about it made his heart ache. But his family, his parents, his brother Callum... They had no idea what was coming their way, no idea of how defend themselves. If he didn’t go now, they’d die.

  I’m sorry, Jessica. I’m so sorry.

  He tried to send the thought out to her, tried to feel her somewhere but there was nothing. The blankness of the In-Between. He’d only ever managed to catch any feel of her when they were in physical contact, like when they made love. Other than that... nothing.

  And he didn’t think she’d hear it either.

  One last shot before he left.

  He crossed the room to the laptop and turned it on. It seemed to take forever to boot up. Finally he got into email and sent her an abbreviated message: “J, To GR, M. Fw? Lv S.” He paused a moment, wishing he felt safe enough to send it to her in a chat program but he didn’t know if they had surveillance on this machine. He wasn’t even all that confident about the email but he couldn’t find his cell phone so texting was out. Another moment longer with no reply and he couldn’t wait. He had to log off.

  He listened to the computer tick down as it turned off. No sound came from the door. He would have to risk it. He didn’t want to try to climb out the window facing the front of the house.

  Creeping to the top of the landing, he listened downstairs. Nothing. Maybe he could risk going down. With careful steps, he moved down the stairs, testing each before placing his full weight down. When he reached the bottom, he heard a sound from the back. Someone in the kitchen where he’d been aiming to go. Dammit! They were heading this way. He couldn’t head back up the stairs without being obvious. He pressed himself against the wall.

  Pass by, he thought, pass me by.

  He focused with all his might and pushed the suggestion at her.

  Through the railing, he saw Joan step through the kitchen door and head toward him, toward the stairs. His heart pounded. Surely she could hear that as it thundered in his ears. But she didn’t give him a glance as she passed the end of the stairs and continued toward the front door. As she opened the door and stepped through, he realized she hadn’t even glanced his way. Not even when she looked back to close the door.

  She’d passed him right by.

  He stepped away from the wall, staring at the door. Had he done that? He’d never Influenced an In-Between like that, not so thoroughly anyway. Maybe she just hadn’t been paying attention. But it was Joan. She was always paying attention or she was always sensing things, sensing people.

  But not this time. Not him.

  Well, he could stand around here thinking about it or he could get the hell out.

  He got.

  The kitchen was empty as he stepped into it. He crossed to the back door and opened it. The small backyard of sparse grass extended barely twenty feet before it hit a worn wooden fence. Faded brown paint flaked off the wooden slats. Several slats near the right of the backyard listed to one side. At just over waist high, he knew he could climb the fence. Unfortunately anyone looking would be able to see him over top it but it was a chance he’d have to take.

  He almost stepped outside, then stopped himself. What would he do about money? He needed enough for airfare. There certainly wasn’t enough cash lying around here. If he stayed, the In-Between would pay his airfare. Eventually. But that could be another eight months from now. No, he’d have to figure out another way and he’d have to do it away from here.

  The door clicked closed behind him. He rubbed his sweating palms on his pants and glanced around at the other backyards on either side of this small house. A breeze ruffled his hair and carried the scent of grass and moist earth, remnants of an overnight rainfall.

  No one was out around lunch time. A few hurried steps carried him to the back fence. He climbed over and rushed across the facing back yard, a clear expanse of fresh green grass. When he reached the back of the red brick house, he paused. Now what? Head around the front? He needed transportation to make a clean break.

  He angled around the side of the house and saw a blue sedan car in the driveway. He peered through the driver’s side window. An automatic. He still wasn’t great about the whole driving on the left side of the road but he could manage in an automatic.

  As long as he could get the keys.

  Telling himself he didn’t have any other choice, he walked to the front door and rang the bell. After a moment, he heard footsteps and the warm scent of a woman wearing lavender before the door opened. Rich brown curls curved around her slim face. She wore a pastel green dress with matching heels. Her head tilted at him.

  “Yes?”

  He focused on her, matching his breath to hers. Her eyes defocused. Her hand drooped on the door frame.

  “Give me your car keys,” he said.

  “Yes.” She turned and moved back into the darkened foyer, leaving the inside door open. After a moment she returned with a yellow keychain hanging from her hand. The car key dangled from the bottom. She opened the door and held the key out to him. He took it from her hand.

  “You will go lie down for a nap for two hours,” he said. “You won’t remember this when you wake up.”

  “Up,” she said. Her mouth stayed open. A touch of drool appeared at the corner. Then she closed the door. He heard her footsteps move away, shuffling.

  Sorry, he thought, and hurried back to the car. He unlocked it and got in, settling into the beige fabric seat to find his knees almost pressed up to his chest. He adjusted the seat well back, giving his gangly form room. Then he inserted the key and turned on the engine.

  Now he’d see how well he’d drive here. Left hand side, he thought.

  He’d have to keep remembering that.

  He drove off.

  He only forgot the whole left hand side thing twice. Fortunately it was within the first five minutes and h
e was still in the subdivision with no other cars around. By the time he reached the main road, he had it.

  Even with the overcast day, he felt the light stabbing into his eyes as he drove and he didn’t have sunglasses. More than an hour of this and the headache would be so bad he wouldn’t be able to see. He had to stop somewhere for a hat and sunglasses. He should have asked the woman at the house but he hadn’t thought of it. He’d been in too much of a hurry to get away.

  Now he was suffering for that haste.

  There had to be a shop around here somewhere. He kept glancing at each side while trying to keep his eyes on the road. There, up ahead he noticed a neighborhood shop. There had to be something there.

  He found a parking spot just past it and pulled in. Turning off the car, he climbed out, stuffing the keys in his pocket. He checked his other pockets. His small wallet contained a one euro. His back pocket held his passport.

  One euro would have to do.

  The bell about the glass door tinkled as he opened the door and stepped into the shop. Candy lined the area beside the cashier, who glanced up as he entered then returned to reading his magazine. Over his head two televisions played. One showed a football match with the sound off. The other displayed the store in black and white. Sebastian saw his ghost image and resisted the urge to wave at himself.

  He turned away from the cashier and headed down the nearest aisle. As he found the reading glasses and then the cheap sunglasses, he heard the tinkle of the bell from the front of the store. Another customer. He ignored it and dug around the sunglasses.

  Pink was not his color. Didn’t they have something in regular black?

  He crouched to check the bottom shelf. There, a pair of plain, ordinary black sunglasses. Just what he wanted. Now he just needed to find a hat. Anything with a brim.

  And not pink.

  He stood up, listening to his knees crack. He headed across the back of the store, glancing down the aisles. No hats here, not here either. It looked like they were probably up front near the cash. He would have preferred to have both items in his hands before trying to Influence the cashier but he’d have to wing it.

  He turned down the aisle farthest from the window and headed toward the front. As he approached, he heard voices murmuring. Probably the other customer asking a question. For smokes perhaps.

  He turned the corner.

  A man in jeans and a black hoodie with the hood pulled up around his face, pointed a gun at the cashier. The cashier stood back from the counter, both hands raised, the magazine lying open in front of him.

  Sebastian’s foot landed on something that crunched, the sound like a gunshot in the silence.

  The gunman started. He spun toward Sebastian. The gun swung around.

  Sebastian’s hand spasmed, clenching the sunglasses. He sucked in a breath. The muzzle of the gun raised upward, aiming at him. He saw it in sharp relief, standing out against everything around it. Waiting to spit death at him.

  NO!

  His mind lashed out. He felt it as a surge of fear, masquerading as rage, rise up in him. The force of it made him stagger back a step. But the force surged out of him and blasted at the gunman. He almost saw it strike the man, sending him flying back against the magazine rack. His limbs and head flapped like a doll’s. He slid down the rack to land on the floor, arms akimbo, legs out in front of him. A rain of magazines landed on his lap and across his face but not soon enough for Sebastian to catch a glimpse of brown eyes open wide in shock and death.

  Pain exploded in Sebastian’s head, stabbing into his temples as if someone had taken a sharp knife and jammed it into both sides of his head. Over the roaring of his blood, he heard laughter in a voice he recognized. No, it couldn’t be... It couldn’t possibly be...

  Grellock.

  The first vampire.

  Out, he had to get out.

  He staggered forward, past the cashier who was leaning over, staring at the man lying on the floor. As Sebastian passed him, the cashier spoke, “Did you see that?”

  Sebastian grunted and pushed the door open.

  “Hey, the sunglasses!” the cashier yelled.

  The overcast light poured into Sebastian’s eyes like burning gold. He shoved the sunglasses onto his face and hurried away. He staggered and stumbled toward the car. He couldn’t possibly drive in this state, he could barely see and his body moved like he was underwater.

  He reached the car and clung to the door, holding himself upright. Any minute now the police would be here. If they approached him he didn’t know what would happen. A minute ago he would have thought the only problem he’d have was trying to Influence several people at once. Now he wondered if he’d be able to not blow them off their feet.

  He had to get out of here. Without the car.

  He pushed away from it and began to stagger toward the corner. With every step, his body became more coordinated. The underwater feeling diminished. Unfortunately, the headache didn’t go with it. But at least by the time he turned the corner he no longer looked like he was drunk.

  A siren wailed in the distance, coming closer. He sensed the police car just before it passed him. He turned away, toward the window of a furniture shop as the car sped past. Now he wouldn’t even be able to retrieve his car.

  Great.

  Maybe they’d find the gunman unconscious but still alive. Maybe the cashier would be too traumatized to describe Sebastian.

  And maybe he’d wake up tomorrow cured of being an In-Between.

  The man was dead. He knew it. He’d caught a glimpse of his eyes, blank and empty as a marble. He knew that look, had come to know it intimately.

  He shuddered as he remembered the laughter in his mind.

  He forced his feet to move. People passed him by as dark blurs. He didn’t even know what direction he was heading in, he just moved. His head pounded in time to his footsteps.

  Was he losing his mind? Was that what was happening? The book was destroyed, he remembered Jessica burning it, even remembered feeling Grellock’s dismay. He remembered that book, remembered the feel of it, the leathery feel of the pages made from human flesh, the ink from human blood. It had contained all the evil Grellock could pour into it. But the link was broken when the book was destroyed, destroying as well the power of the clan heads. So he should be free of it now.

  Shouldn’t he?

  Then how had he thrown that man against the wall, killing him? How had he heard Grellock’s laughter in his mind?

  Was a part of it still in him?

  Maybe that was why he was able to Influence the vampires the way he could. Did using that power make it stronger? Did it make it more of an Influence over Sebastian himself?

  He shuddered as he walked. He didn’t want to follow those thoughts where they led. It was a dark, terrifying road. He’d rather stay on this one.

  Which was... where?

  He stopped and looked around. He’d been walking for who knew how long. The shops had changed. No longer small convenience stores filled with trinkets, he was now standing on a street with quirky clothing shops.

  Early afternoon sun blazed down on him, making him feel itchy. The air choked with the scent of people all around him, flooded with their perfumes and colognes. He needed somewhere quiet and dark to think. He caught a glimpse of a spire close by.

  Now how was that for irony.

  He angled off the main road into side streets, keeping an eye on the spire. Within a few blocks he found it, a small church of yellow brick. Wide concrete steps led up to a set of double oak doors. He climbed them and tugged on the handle. The door swung wide and he stepped inside.

  Darkness. Quiet. His shoulders drooped. He moved to the last pew and sat down. The last time he’d been in a church was almost a year ago, running from vampires, looking for Stan only to have Stan betray him.

  “That’s something I never thought he’d do.”

  Sebastian jumped at the sound of the voice. His hands grabbed the back of the pew in front of h
im. He turned.

  Charlie sat at the other end of the row. He wore the same faded blue jeans and black t-shirt. His blond hair had the same fashionably tousled look. A smile creased his face as he looked at Sebastian.

  “Hey dude, long time no see!”

  Sebastian closed his eyes. He really was losing his mind.

  “You’re not losing your mind, Sebastian.”

  He opened his eyes again. Charlie leaned back in the pew, arms stretched out along the wood. He hooked one leg up on the pew in front of him.

  “How did you know...” Sebastian said.

  “That you were thinking that?” Charlie said. “Hey man, we were roommates for almost three years. I know all your little neurotic thoughts.” His head cocked to the side. “But you look a little different. A little less neurotic.” He nodded. “Looks good on ya.”

  “You’re not here,” Sebastian said. “You’re just stress.”

  Charlie swung his leg off the pew. His foot thumped to the floor. “Don’t start that,” he said. “Don’t start with the whole ‘figment of my imagination’ bullshit. I’m a ghost, okay? And you can see me.”

  “Why?” The word burst from Sebastian before he could stop it.

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed as he studied his friend. “I’m not sure. You’re different than you were. You were even different when you first got bit.” He chuckled. “Hell, you were different before that.”

  “What do you mean different?” Sebastian said.

  “Hey, do I look like an expert? I’m just Charlie. I don’t know any more than I did. All I know is you can finally see. About fucking time too.”

  “Finally?”

  “Yeah, finally. I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages but you’ve been too busy doing all that vampire hunting shit. Didn’t know you were so good with the knife, bro. And Jessica...” Charlie wagged his eyebrows, a smirk crossing his face.

  “You didn’t...”

  “Sure I did. You see any ghost babes around here? I’m living vicariously, dude. Well, okay, maybe not living.”