Into The Spirit

by Marie Harte

  “Nothing?”

  She should try to cover this up, somehow. Yet if she lied, saying she was hurt and she wasn’t, it may cause him to worry more. But if she didn’t say at least something was sore he would question her as to why. “My thigh hurts. I think it got cut somehow?”

  He narrowed his eyes, studying her.

  “I…my neck and shoulder feel stiff, but I think that’s the worst of it right now. I’ll probably be really sore tomorrow.” she hoped.

  He nodded, not saying a word and lifted the covers, exposing her stinging thigh. Pulling a combat medical bag from the floor he unzipped it and pulled the necessary supplies to clean and disinfect the cut on her leg, as well as a sterile needle and thread to suture it back together.

  Eve panicked a little when she saw the needle—“It’s not that bad is it?” She struggled to sit up.

  Alex put his hand on her chest, forcing her down. “It’s deep but not bad. A few stitches will help it heal. Now, hold still.” He said the words casually like he had done this a hundred times. But it wasn’t necessary.

  “You know,”—she tried to act calm—“It probably looks worse than it is. Just throw a Band-Aid over it. It’ll look better tomorrow.”

  “It will look better tomorrow,” he repeated slowly. “You have a gash in your thigh that requires at least ten to twelve stitches and you say it will be fine tomorrow.” He narrowed his eyes again. “How do you know that?”

  She shook her head, desperately thinking of a way to get out of the corner she’d backed herself into. “I don’t know anything. I’m just saying that it’s starting to feel better already.”

  He nodded again, studying her and without a word reached into his bag moving it around but she couldn’t see what he was doing. Then he leant forward and grasped both of her hands in one of his. That was when she saw it, a needle attached to a self-injecting syringe. It wasn’t big, only about the size of a quarter but she knew what it was used for.

  “No!” She fought against him but he was so strong. “Please Alex no! Don’t!” It was too late. He pressed it to her neck and she felt the pinch. He pulled it away, tossing the used plastic on the bed and released her hands. Once freed she shot up while she was still able to and slapped him hard across the face. “You’re a bastard.”

  “I know,” he confirmed.

  Eve fell back against the bed and covered her face, her head becoming foggy. “How long will I be out?” Whatever drug he had given her was fast acting because her arms suddenly felt heavy and she dropped them to her sides. Her body felt heavy too, like a giant lead weight was pinning her to the bed. When he didn’t answer, she fought against the drug and turned to look at him. “Why…” Was all she could get out. Her voice cracked and became unsteady.

  Alex rested his elbows on his knees, hands gripped together, watching her with a blank expression. Why was he doing this? Tears gathered on her lids. Hadn’t she just felt guilty for not trusting him and now that she had tried, he proved he couldn’t be trusted. She turned away and tried to focus on the ceiling, but her vision blurred. Finally closing her eyes, she felt Alex stroke her hair away from her face. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  * * * *

  Standing in the dark, Miles studied Ace lying in the bed. He had been in Ace’s room for the past ten minutes deciding whether or not to just kill him and get it over with.

  Although at this point, it might just make matters worse. Ever since he’d engaged Taylor this afternoon outside Ace’s apartment, his CO had been raining down a shit storm. After he’d had the hole in his shoulder closed he was called into see the Colonel. Things worked out better than he could have planned when he was questioned about the shooting and explosions. He’d simply added to the tale he had already told the CO about the perpetrator shooting Ace. He’d explained the odd way Eve had become a person of interest and that he’d observed Detective Taylor at Eve’s house. All of which was conveniently the truth.

  From that point on however, he was just as much in the dark as the CO and the rest of the Project. He had no idea why Taylor and Eve had gone to Ace’s building, and he had no idea how they had got into Ace’s apartment and weapons vault. He didn’t want to guess how Taylor knew about Ace. He wanted the truth, which he would get. Nevertheless, there was one thing that was clear, Taylor was not just your ordinary cop—he was fast, agile and could shoot while under fire. He had the knowledge to get into Ace’s apartment, plus his vault, where it was obvious he was familiar with the wide assortment of weapons Ace had on hand.

  What confused him about today’s event was what he had seen in the hall. He’d seen Ace in that hall, he’d heard Ace in that hall.

  ‘That’s one, I owe you two more.’ Taylor had said that to him, he had been the only one there but he was sure that he had seen Ace. How could Taylor have known about Ace’s wounds? How could Taylor have known that he had given Ace those wounds?

  Slowly walking over to the bed, Miles reached out, touching Ace’s arm. It was warm. He looked the same as he had the day before, his black hair was longer than usual and he now had a full beard that the nurses seemed to be taking care of, but which he knew Ace would hate. This wasn’t who he’d seen in the hall, he’d seen Ace like he normally was—short hair, clean-shaven.

  Miles frowned. Who had he seen?

  * * * *

  Alex walked into the small house and inspected the room. Like earlier in the afternoon, he felt like he had stepped back through time to when he’d first entered Dawn’s house. The light was on in the kitchen and he could hear Eve’s grandmother talking to a man. He walked through the living room and stopped just before the kitchen and listened as Dawn spoke.

  “Well you can’t go in there, my granddaughter is in there.”

  “I just want to walk around, that’s where I go when you’re sleeping.” The man said. He was wearing an odd-looking farmer’s hat and vest with a cotton shirt under it and his pants stopped short before hitting his ankles making them look, at least, two sizes too small for his tall frame.

  Dawn clucked her tongue. “I’m not arguing with you about this, Phillip. This is my house and Noelle will stay in that room and you will not go near her. Is that clear? Now bugger off!” Her voice was strong and she quickly gained control over the man.

  The tall man grumbled as he walked towards him. Alex studied him as he stopped in front of him. “Who are you?” he asked.

  Alex could see Dawn through the man as she called, “Out Phillip, now.”

  He grumbled again as he passed Alex and out through the wall of the house.

  Alex raised his eyebrows and turned to face Eve’s grandmother. A ghost. Okay. Not what he had been expecting when he decided to come here tonight.

  “Well, you might as well come and sit down since you took the trouble to break into my house.” She scuffed her slippers as she passed him and entered the sitting room.

  He followed her in and sat across from her, resting his forearms on his knees. He noticed how she toyed with the necklace that held the silver charm.

  “What exactly is the purpose of the charm?” He watched closely as she smiled down at it.

  “The Sinclair medallion has more than one role. It protects and prolongs.” She looked up at him with sharp green eyes, too sharp for someone to be living in a retirement village.

  He scowled back. “I just saw your granddaughter get slammed through a steel door by a bomb.” He waited for the older woman’s reaction and was satisfied when her face turned white and her hand flew to her chest. “Is Eve all right?”

  “That’s why I’m here, she has minor bruising and abrasions, a small bump on her head but that’s it. I’ve seen enough bodies injured by grenades, IED’s and such to know she shouldn’t be in one piece.” He controlled the shudder that tried to run through him. The mere thought of Eve lying there looking dead, scared the shit out of him. It was something he never wanted to see again. “Eve should probably be dead. But she’s not. What does that medallion do
?”

  Dawn sighed and sat back, her hand shook. “Where is she?”

  Alex stood and moved to join to her on the small sofa. “She’s at my apartment, and she’s sleeping,”—then thought to add—“She’s safe. I wouldn’t have left her if she wasn’t.”

  “I believe you.” She nodded. “I know you wouldn’t hurt someone you care about, and you care about Eve don’t you?”

  There was no point in denying it, everyone seemed to know. Justine and Cade knew, Dawn knew, the saint or angel or whatever it was knew. Shit even he knew it. The problem was, he didn’t want it to happen. They could not be together no matter how much he wanted her, his life was just too dangerous, today’s fuck-up proved it.

  He shook his head fighting against the truth.

  She sighed and gave him a sad smile. “Then you don’t deserve to know.”

  He squeezed his jaw. “Yes, I do deserve to know.”

  “Why? You just said you don’t care for her.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he snapped.

  “Why are you fighting it?”

  He sighed and shook his head again. “I’m not. There just isn’t any future for us. My life is too dangerous.”

  Dawn patted his arm. “Eve will come to accept who you are, and you in turn will bend accordingly.”

  “I can’t change my life for her,” he admitted.

  “You don’t have to change, just adjust,” she instructed.

  Taking a deep breath, Alex focused on the reason why he had come. “So tell me about the Sinclair Medallion, how does it protect Eve?”

  “The same way a bullet proof vest protects police officers or, in your case, soldiers.”

  “It repels outside attacks to the body? I’ve worn Kevlar vests; they’re hot, heavy and uncomfortable. But all Eve has is a tattoo of that medallion. How can it protect her?”

  “Well it all began with William the Conqueror. In 1066—”

  “Wait.” Alex held up his hand. “I didn’t come for a history lesson. I just want to know how Eve is protected.”

  “If you want the answers then sit still and listen,” she commanded. “I’m not telling you this to listen to the sound of my own voice.”

  Alex took a frustrated breath.

  “Good. Now weeks before the invasion of England in 1066, William the Conqueror was having bad luck with the weather and had to wait impatiently to cross the channel. It’s said that while he waited for the winds to shift he would set out with his guard and explore the surrounding area. One day while out on a ride he came across an old rundown church in the middle of a large field. With his guards keeping watch, William circled the field and used the time to think about the upcoming invasion. As he wandered around the area, deep in thought, he came upon an old man lying in the field. William approached the man, quickly noticing he was in need of aid. He dismounted and went to assist the man.” Dawn shifted in her seat, getting comfortable.

  Alex almost groaned out loud. This was going to take a while.

  “When he knelt next to the man he saw he was a priest. His name was Father Raphael. The man had hurt his leg carrying firewood. After seeing to the priest’s wounded leg, William lifted him onto his horse, picked up the firewood and proceeded to carry it back to the church, while leading his horse with the priest behind him. Once back at the church, William helped the old man get settled in a chair before starting a fire. They spent a good while talking and before he left, William promised that he would send men to make repairs to the Father’s small church. Father Raphael was so grateful that he gave William a parting gift and placed two silver coins in his hand. He told William that it was a gift from God and would protect and prolong the lives of those who owned it.”

  Alex leant forward onto his knees.

  “Thinking the priest was a little off, William refused the coins, saying he didn’t require a payment. The priest then suggested that he should take it anyway and pass the gift on to a man worthy of God. William accepted the gift with the intent of following the old priest’s request.”

  “And did he?” Alex asked.

  “Yes he did. Shortly after, in fact. But there’s more to this part. When William got word that the winds had changed, he rode to the old church that his men had repaired and was going to ask the Father to bless his soldiers. But when he arrived the old man couldn’t be found. Instead all that was found was a grave stone with the Father’s name and a symbol, the same symbol that was carved into the coins William was given.”

  Alex raised his eyebrows. “That didn’t help me.”

  “I’m not done. Once William met Harold at Hasting and the battle was over, William walked through his wounded soldiers surveying the damage, until he came upon a woman tending to one of his loyal knights and friend, a man by the name of St. Clare. Watching her work he quickly realised she was a truly gifted healer. Not only did she heal St. Clare’s body, but she had lifted his spirit as well. The next day he went back to see his friend St. Clare and, once again, saw the woman treating another knight, except this time St. Clare was standing protectively nearby. St. Clare, you see, had been taken with the woman named Elethea, which means healer. As the days went by he saw the injured men Elethea had tended to and that each one was alive because of her. So impressed by the woman, William gave her to St. Clare thus eventually making her a Baroness. He also gave her the coins the priest had told him to pass on. St. Clare had them fashioned into medallions. Which he and his wife wore until their first child was born.” She held up the necklace that carried the medallion. “This is one of the medallions that Father Raphael had first given to William.” She toyed with the heirloom. “Noelle wears the other.

  “Did you know the name Raphael stands for ‘he who heals’ or the more popular ‘God heals’?”

  Alex felt a frown pull at his face. “No. I didn’t.”

  “And so started the Sinclair line and, with it, the ability to heal the body and soul. The medallions prolong our lives by slowing our aging process and protect us from outside forces, so that we may keep healing.”

  Alex stared at Dawn, startled by the words she had chosen to use, ‘heal the body and spirit’. Spirit was another name for the soul. The thing that possessed Justine had also said that Eve was a truly gifted healer. Was it her or was it the medallion? “So, how does Eve have protection? She doesn’t wear a medallion, she only has a tattoo.”

  Dawn wiggled her brows. “Oh she is clever, that one. She figured out that the medallion wasn’t what protected us, but the symbol etched into it.”

  Still resting his elbows on his knees he clasped his hands together. “Does this symbol give her the ability to merge medians?”

  “No.” Dawn stood. “That was passed down from Elethea. Any Sinclair that is a direct descendent has the ability.”

  “How did Elethea get the ability to merge?”

  “I asked my mother that once.” Dawn looked down at Alex in thought. “She didn’t know. No one knows.”

  Alex nodded. “How many Sinclairs have it?”

  “There are three of us left.”

  The back of her slippers scrapped against the floor as she went to the kitchen.

  Alex followed and stopped in the doorway as she washed out her cup. “That doesn’t make any sense. Sinclair is a popular name, especially in the UK. There has to be more than just you, Eve and Noelle?”

  “The Sinclairs were, are a large clan. But,” she stressed, “only Elethea’s children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and so on, have the ability and because of our lifespan there really hasn’t been that many of us.” Dawn changed the subject. “So how about it, should I be excepting to see this Miles in my kitchen next?”

  Alex let the matter go. Eve could answer the other questions that he had. “Not tonight. And you should have protection by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Well, that’s good.” She turned from him. “Lock the door on your way out.”

  He followed her down the hall leading to the bedrooms. “Which
room?” Dawn flinched and turned to face him.

  “No,” She whispered. “You’ll wake her.”

  “Eve will be worried and I can’t have her trying to get over here, it’s just too risky.”

  “What exactly is risky about it?” Dawn demanded.

  He mimicked her stance, and, keeping his voice low, laid it out for her—“Miles thinks I’m a cop. I’m new. He will research me and will not approach me unless he is positive he can make the kill. Eve is an easier target. He already knows everything he needs to kill her.”

  “Oh sweet Jesus!” Dawn pressed her fingers into her temples. “What have you got my Eve into?”

  “Nothing I can’t get her out of. As long as she does what I tell her. So let me see Noelle so I can tell Eve her daughter is safe.”

  Dawn shook her head and pointed to the door next to him. She rested back against the wall. “I’m timing you.”

  Alex nodded and quickly slipped into the dark room. The furniture in there was also full of antiques, but as with the rest of the house, everything was decorated tastefully.

  He moved to the side of the double bed where Noelle was sleeping and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. She rolled onto her side and smiled sleepily. “Hi Alex.”

  He squatted down next to the bed. “No reading tonight?”

  She smothered a smile and pulled a book out from under the covers. “I had to hide it because Gran checks on me a lot.”

  He laughed quietly. “Smart lady. It’s late now, go back to sleep.”

  “I will. Where’s Mom?” she whispered.

  He took the book from her and placed it on the night stand. “Sleeping, like you should be. I just wanted to make sure you and your Gran were okay.”

  She yawned. “We made cookies.”

  “Yah, how’d they turn out?” he asked as she closed her eyes.

  “They were good, we ate most of them.” She was drifting off.

  He smiled and whispered, “Goodnight, Noelle.” He gently touched her head as he stood. Looking down, he wondered what it would feel like to be the father of a child as cute and smart as Noelle. The memory of the three of them having breakfast earlier replayed in his head. The time had been simple and enjoyable, just like being with family should be. He looked at Noelle, thought about Eve sleeping in his bed. No. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t risk either one of them.