Breaking Normal (Dream Weaver #3)

by Su Williams

  “Your eyes are amazing,” she said.

  “The better to see with, my dear,” I said and laughed. “And no, I do not wear contacts. They’re an inheritance from my mother.” But my eyes that she admired never left the crowd. Ari thrummed against my skin as my eyes raked over the faces in the distance. It’s him! she whispered. Standing at the corner of a dilapidated garage, was the killer. His weight shifted from foot to foot, his own eyes dashed and darted as though chasing a finch as it dived through the air. I nodded toward him. “See that guy over there?”

  Molly followed my line of sight. “Tweaker dude at one o’clock by the garage?” she asked. I nodded. “Yep. What about him?”

  “Does he look nervous to you?” I couldn’t just come right out and say I’d seen him kill the other man. Could I? My gaze roamed over his body and clothes. He’d changed his clothes and washed most of the evidence away. But he missed a smear of blood on his right, inner arm.

  “Hm. Yeah. I’d say he looks nervous, but addicts usually do when the cops are around.”

  “See if you can get closer to him. I think I see something red smeared on his arm,” I suggested.

  Molly looked me square in the face. “Emari. This isn’t a cold case you can play around with. This is a serious, active, murder investigation.”

  Finally, I turned to her and returned her stern expression. But I let my features soften and took her hand. “Molly, I know you have absolutely zero reason to trust me. But I’m telling you…I’m asking you—would you at least check it out? Please? If I’m wrong, no foul. But if I’m right, you get the credit for the arrest and that’s one more criminal off the streets.”

  She grumbled and nodded. Slowly, nonchalantly, she made her way to the back of the crowd and moved up behind the gangly man.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said as she placed a light hand on his arm. The culprit nearly jumped out of his skin. Anxious much? He rounded on the female cop, scanned her diminutive size and lurched away from her. Molly’s hand went for her gun as his hand went for the switchblade. Molly was faster. “I need back up,” she yelled to the nearest cop. But the murderer made a break for it. Still, Molly was faster. She holstered her weapon, grabbed his arm and flipped him face down onto the ground in a single fluid motion. Killer academy training. I smiled at her bad-assitude. She twisted his arm behind his back and planted her knees on his spine. The man roared as rage and realization swept through him. Other officers responded with drawn weapons but gathered to find the suspect already in custody. Molly cuffed him, hauled him to his feet and escorted him to a waiting squad car for questioning.

  “Emari, how did you know?” she grilled me a few minutes later.

  “I just saw the blood,” I hedged.

  She eyed the distance and the suspect’s position in the crowd, and scowled. “You must have pretty damn good eyesight to see that from here.”

  I pushed away from the patrol car. “That’s what I hear.”

  Her brow corrugated. “Well, your ride’s here.”

  I wanted to hug her, my newest friend, but I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of her fellow officers. “You don’t need me for anything else? I’d rather not become involved. I’d rather you took the credit and left me out of it.” Molly just nodded, so I started for the waiting patrol car, but turned back to her. “Molly?” I said quietly. “Um…” I wasn’t sure how to broach this topic. May as well just jump right in, right? “I—um—get the impression that you…”

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “That I what?”

  That you’re gay? Or you’re a lesbian? I swiped my face with my hand. This was all new territory for me. “Um, I have this friend…”

  “Ivy? The sprite from the other day?” I nodded. “Yeah, she’s cute.” Well that makes it easier.

  “Since I’ve been seeing Nick, she’s been—a little lonesome. I kind of promised her I’d tried to find someone she could hang with. You two seem to have a lot in common.”

  “Oh, you mean like being gay?” she said bold as day. Apparently, the police force didn’t have a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy.

  Okay, maybe the only one this is awkward for is me. “Uh, yeah. Like that. But not just that,” I backpedalled. “She’s a great girl. I love her to death, but I…”

  “Like boys,” she finished for me and I smiled at the echo of a previous conversation with Ivy. “And it’s a damn shame too.” This time, I laughed out loud as Ivy’s words spilled from Molly’s lips.

  “Yeah. Would you be interested…”

  Molly smiled beamed with sincerity. “She’s adorable. And I was going to ask you about her already. You still have my cell number, right?” I nodded. “You’re welcome to give it to Ivy. Tell her I’d love to spend some time with her.” And then, she hugged me—kevlar vest, nine mil pistol and all.

  Chapter 22 Delirium Trigger

  Sabre switched off the news. “Are you insane?” he yelled.

  “Says the man teetering on the edge of deranged,” I scoffed. Apparently, one of the news crews, channel five, of course, had filmed my conversation with Officer Molly in the moments leading to the apprehension of the killer. There was no audio, but it was apparent I’d pointed the man out to her. I rubbed tiny circles in my temples, trying to relieve some of the stress-headache that was building behind my eyes. The newscaster had dubbed me ‘The Capeless Crusader’: dedicated to the eradication of crime in our fair city.

  “Sunny’s gonna be pissed,” I groused. “She never intended for my story to be anything but a call to action for rape victims.”

  Nick paced the living room like a caged panther. Silent. Contemplating. Deadly. But he wasn’t the only one with a lot on his mind. What better time to drop a bomb on them?

  “I’ve decided to take a trip over to Fourth of July Pass, where Mom and Dad were killed.” My parents had driven down to California to find a ‘snowbird’ home to retreat to during the Northwest’s harsh winters. It was on the return trip that they died. And I needed to know…

  Nick rounded on me. “Why?”

  I shot him a defensive leer but lost the wind in my sails. My shoulders drooped. “I just…I feel like there are things I need to know. Things I need to see with my own eyes. Thomas has shown me his perspective of the wreck. But I…I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I just need to see where it happened.”

  A canyon split Nick’s brow. “Why now?”

  I wasn’t even completely sure myself. Maybe I wanted to find the last traces of their lives. Just something to hold on to as the memories of them slipped away, and I forgot their faces, the sound of their voices. Not that I could truly ever forget—not now that I was Caphar. But memories that bubbled easily to the surface before, now took time to unbury from the detritus of my life. Nick came to stand in front of me and gently took my arms. His breath was hot and sweet on my skin as leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  “You won’t just find the last of their lives there, honey.” And he didn’t need to elaborate. I knew he meant I’d find their deaths smeared across the tarmac.

  “I have to go,” I insisted.

  “I’ll go with you,” he insisted back. It riled me.

  “I’m a big girl, Nick,” I argued. “I can handle this by myself. I don’t need you along to…” I cringed as I let my true thoughts erupt.

  “To what, Em? To taint the memories scattered across the freeway?” He swept his arm in an arc across Sabre’s living room as though the summit of the pass lay there before us. The hurt in his eyes twisted my heart.

  “I just—need the raw reality of the wreck, not something softened by you or anyone else.” I stepped back up to him and rested my cheek on his chest. His body was stiff with stress, but softened as his arms wrapped around me. He sighed like the weight of the world had just been removed from his shoulders. “Nick, please. I need you to understand. I have to do this.” I didn’t really know what I expected to find. Maybe nothing. But maybe, it would give me the opportunity to find some kin
d of closure. Whatever that meant. “I’ll take Eddy with me, so he can alert me if a Wraith decides to drop by.”

  Nick pushed me out to arm’s length. “You’re driving?” His mouth tightened at my nod. “Even better,” he said and turned away with a growl.

  “What? You got a problem with my driving?” Okay, so I had a blemish on my record from totaling the T-bird—and dumping the CX-9 in a ditch in their driveway before Sabre’s rock star weave.

  No. It just means you’ll be gone longer.

  I smiled. Oh. Is that all?

  Isn’t it enough?

  Sabre gagged like a cat hocking up a hairball. “Are you two about done?”

  I giggled. Nick snarled, but returned his gaze to my face. The hard lines of his mouth and brow faded as he spoke to me. “How ‘bout we try an experiment? We can check the distance we can reach broadcasting. At least that way, we’ll know what we’re all capable of.”

  My eyes narrowed at him. “Yeah? And you can still babysit me. No thanks.”

  “Emi, please,” he pleaded. But I met his plea with a scowl.

  “That’s really not a bad idea. It could be good to know our range,” Sabre interjected. It was my turn to snarl at Sabre James.

  Nick swept my hands into his, but I pulled them away. His shoulders slumped again as the weight of the world returned. Would I ever be able to truly forgive him for his betrayal? My heart ached to be in his arms. But my mind rejected his affections. Seeing the pain in his eyes and knowing it was a reflection of the ache in his heart, flooded me with guilt. But what did I have to be guilty about? I wasn’t the one who lied.

  “Fine! Eddy goes with me, in case Thomas shows up. We’ll test our skills at intervals of a mile at first to get a grip on the distance.” Nick’s eyes brightened like flaring matches. “But I honestly don’t want you in range while I’m at the crash site.” The match snuffed out.

  He bit his lip. “What if something happens and we can’t communicate?”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  “Well, I’m not!”

  I glared up into his face and shielded myself from their magic. “Tough!”

  *

  In the end, we decided that Nick and Sabre would remain just outside their individual broadcasting range for fifteen minutes to give me time to peruse the site of the crash. To me, fifteen minutes was a drop in the bucket. To Nick, fifteen minutes was an eternity. I’d drive I-90 east through Coeur d’Alene, and continue southeast to the summit of Fourth of July Pass. Nick would phase and travel north of my position, and Sabre south.

  Eddyson lounged on the passenger’s seat beside me, his harness strapped into the seatbelt for safety. Buckle up for safety. My father’s words were bitter sweet. As I drove, I checked my odometer every mile at first, to establish if our range was holding. Once we established we could still hear each other at a mile apart, we lengthened it to two miles. By the time I reached the city center exit for Coeur d’Alene, Nick was fading at ten miles and Sabre at fifteen miles. Yet both of them could hear me loud and clear.

  Did that mean I was more powerful than either of these older Weavers? I was able to phase from a combatant’s grasp, and phase with another corporeal body—something they’d never seen a Caphar do before, and couldn’t do themselves.

  The guys kept their distance as I approached the pass and the bridge abutment where my parent’s car crashed. My heart compressed with an empty ache and my throat constricted like a vice that squeezed tears to my eyes. Let it turn, Em. Turn it into your strength not your weakness. Somehow, I still expected to see skids marks and burn scars on the asphalt from the explosion of the car, but the dark pavement lay unassuming and innocent in the late spring sunlight. Eddy’s head popped up when I slowed and pulled over onto the shoulder. I stroked his head and tugged playfully at his ears. He opened his mouth to bite my hand but it evolved into a cavernous yawn. He blinked dewy eyes at me and laid back down.

  Okay, guys. I know you can still hear me. Everything’s good. If something comes up, you’ll be able to respond. I snorted with irritation. I was an adult. Why did I need to check in with anyone?

  Bracing myself against the wind and turbulence of the memories, I got out and walked to the passenger side of the car with Eddy’s leash. His tail thumped wildly as I opened the door, connected the leash and unfastened his seatbelt harness. His jowls were already fluttering in the wind as he strained for the new scents that wafted through his nose. His tags jangled as he leapt from the car and gave himself a shake from muzzle to tail. Then, his nose hit the ground and he snuffled around at all the amazing new scents that tantalized his little beagle brain. Chilly wind tugged at my hair and pierced my clothes. Eddy buried his head in a clump of brush and boisterously rooted out the smells while I scanned the freeway and surrounding hills and trees. As much as it pained me, I tugged on the memories Thomas showed me of the crash.

  I stand on a barren frosty knoll overlooking a deserted freeway. Deserted, but for a single car that knifes through the darkness toward my vantage point.

  “Mom and Dad…” I breathed and my heart leapt to my throat. Eddy’s head jerked up to check on me. Once he decided I was fine, he shoved his nose back to the ground. While he explored, I scoured the area for the angle of this memory fragment, then tugged Eddy up a shallow incline. Still the angle wasn’t quite right, perhaps a little farther away. I trudged farther up the rocky incline with grasses up to my knees, and turned to face the freeway. Yes, this seemed to be about right.

  Icy wind slices through my skin and tears at my hair and clothes. But hatred burns hot inside me. It makes me happy. Keeps me warm. I shift into the back seat of the sedan racing by me, and catch Zecharias’ eyes in the rearview mirror. They widen with horror, as though he knows I am there for his harm. His knuckles blanch white as he strangles the wheel and struggles for control—of himself and the car. A smile bows my lips at the thought of him losing control of his bladder. Then, the lovely Jane’s green eyes widened in terror as the realization of my presence dawns on her.

  “Mom…” I breathed. She’d been so frightened in those last moments. And Dad. Thomas had tormented him for months with night terrors and dreams. No wonder fear seized him at the sight of Thomas glaring back at him in his own rearview mirror. Pain throbbed in my chest but I pushed forward. Let it turn into something else. As I delved for the next fragment of memory, my cell buzzed. I opened the text message: ‘Emi. Plz don’t do this to yourself.’ I rumbled a morose chuckle. “Well, I guess if you can’t broadcast a weave, a text is the next best thing.” Chill, Benedetti. It’s all good. But we both knew I was far from ‘all good’. At least I knew he wasn’t close enough to distort the memories.

  “You’re going to die tonight,” Thomas hisses at them.

  Mom breathes a prayer, “Oh God!”

  Horror twists Daddy’s stricken face as Thomas dives into his mind, and shows him all the horrible things, the torments he will set upon his darling daughter. It doesn’t take much. I am Dad’s one true hot button. Thomas projects to him how he will slowly, methodically strangle the life from me and feed off the terror—just because he can. He contemplates my potential gift, if I truly become Caphar, and illustrates, in agonizing detail, how he will consume that gift as his own.

  My mother’s face is fear-white, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ that disappears beneath her small, stark hand. A wall of white emerges out of the flurry before the windshield, but not of snow. Cement. Massive and merciless. The shiny new sedan plows into the bridge abutment, lifting Mom’s side of the car into flight. Giant sparkling snowflakes of shattering glass fly into the air as the car rolls over and over. Metal screams and moans in protest. Finally settling on its top, the car slides across the icy black tarmac, a path of broken scattered pieces in its wake.

  Like reading the end of Joan of Arc, despite knowing the end, I still gasped and clenched my lips around a scream. It’s only a memory, Em. Memories can’t hurt you unless you let them. I squeezed m
y cell in my pocket as the memory of Nick’s words struggled to soothe my aching heart.

  I opened my eyes to find myself standing in the middle of the freeway with no idea how I’d gotten myself there. A horn blared and airbrakes screeched as I looked up to find a semi truck barreling towards me. I only had time to close my eyes and scream.

  Chapter 23 Sweet Dream (or a Beautiful Nightmare)

  An obnoxious beeping tugged at my consciousness. Every bone and muscle in my body ached like I’d been sent through a meat grinder. But the heavy fog of my brain masked my level of pain. I batted against the haze, flailed against the darkness that pressed in on me from all sides.

  “Emari?” A woman’s voice. A familiar voice.

  “Wake up, my Jewel.”

  Daddy?

  I screwed up all the energy I had within me just to force my eyelids open. I blinked at the hazy silhouettes hovering over me.

  “That’s a girl, Em. Open your eyes.”

  “Dad?” I managed. The voice was right, but—wasn’t my dad dead? Maybe now I was dead. Maybe now I was in Heaven, or wherever it is dead people go. But why would I hurt so badly if I was dead?

  A warm hand brushed the hair from my face and lovingly petted my cheek. A soft, murmured exchange drifted above me, but I couldn’t understand all of the words. Something about—doctors, hospital, accident and brain damage.

  “Mama? Is that you?” Her face leaned over mine. Soft tears rained on my cheeks.

  “Yes, baby.”

  “What happened?”

  The blurry silhouettes exchanged a glance then peered back down at me. “We were in an accident, honey. Don’t you remember?”

  I shook my head, but even that hurt and it sent my world whirling out of control. I dragged my hand to my spinning head to stabilize it and noticed the IV tube implanted in my wrist. My fingers discovered an oxygen tube strung under my nose and anchored behind my ears.