Red-Line: The Shift (Volume One)

by J. T. Bishop

“I don’t know, but it’s something worth considering. How is Emerson? Is he well enough answer some questions?”

  “I am not going to interrogate our last remaining Red-Line to see if he is somehow involved in covert genetic testing and raising radical offspring.”

  “You might want to, before he dies.”

  “And how do you know he’s going to die? Last I checked, Ramsey, he was stable.”

  “Because in all likelihood, with his injury, the lack of serum will probably kill him, if what we’ve been told is true.” He watched Morgana for her reaction, which never came. “And I’m assuming it is, but more so because these attacks are too coincidental. If Arnuff or Emerson were involved, then their ‘child,’ if that’s what you want to call him, may have shown aggressive tendencies, and once Sarah came into the picture, may have begun to show something worse. The two of them may have acted to neutralize the threat but realized too late that they weren’t strong enough to stop him.”

  “It’s a good theory,” responded Declan. “Which is why you should talk to Emerson sooner rather than later.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because Y realizes that he knows too much. He’s a threat to him. And Y may not leave any loose ends.”

  “Again, this theory is highly unlikely,” Morgana stated.

  “Then Emerson will look at you like you’re crazy, which must be entirely commonplace for you by now. Either way, at least you might get closer to knowing the truth.” Ramsey shifted in his chair as his ribs protested, and he waited for her reaction.

  She took a breath as she noticed all three men watching her, and she knew she had to consider the possibility, however absurd it might seem. “All right, I’m willing to see where it leads. I’ll make some phone calls.”

  “Soon. Today in fact, if you can,” Ramsey suggested.

  Morgana shifted her eyes to him and debated arguing with him, but she suppressed the urge. She knew a whole new argument awaited her, and she wanted to reserve her energy for the impending outburst. “The question still remains, though, regarding Sarah,” she said. “When I make my phone calls, I’ll arrange transportation for her, as well.”

  Ramsey sat up, wincing with the movement. “She’s not going anywhere, Morgana.” Angry indignation dripped from him. “And that’s not up for discussion.”

  She kept her face placid. “Is that in her best interest, or in yours?”

  Ramsey stared at her. “What are you implying?”

  “Merely that you’ve lost sight of your objective here.”

  “And what objective is that?”

  “That she stay safe and alive.”

  “And you question that I want that for her?”

  “No, I question your need to be the one to ensure that for her.”

  “And you doubt that I can do it?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Ramsey hesitated at that. He’d managed to keep the past at bay, but Morgana’s question brought it sharply into focus. He couldn’t help but consider it. For the first time since this ordeal began, he allowed himself to question his gut. Was Morgana right? Was he capable of protecting Sarah? Was he too personally involved? He shot an ambivalent glance at her as he considered his answer, and she returned it with a look of impending victory. Her history with him allowed her to manipulate his vulnerabilities, especially when it came to protecting someone and failing.

  “That’s not fair, Morgana.” Leroy knew the history, too. “That was years ago.”

  “Nevertheless, Leroy, this is too important to take chances. We can’t afford any unnecessary risks.”

  Leroy watched as the previously inflamed energy of his friend contracted, and he knew Morgana had aimed well and hit her target. His anger began to build, but Declan made a loud interruption, stopping his retort.

  “Whoa…” Declan said, leaning back in his seat as if something whizzed by him. “Did you feel that?”

  At that moment, what felt like an electric current rippled the air, and the glass in front of Morgana, previously carrying her scotch, shattered into pieces. Glass fragments flew wildly across the table.

  Morgana jumped back in her seat. “What in the…?” she said, just as the glasses in front of Leroy and Declan both shook and shattered as well. Fragments littered the table and fell onto the floor as all four of them looked on, mouths open.

  “I think you pissed her off,” said Declan, picking some glass off his lap and putting it on the table.

  “Excuse me?” asked Morgana, delicately picking up pieces and looking at them as if she expected them to move on their own.

  “It’s Sarah. I think you’re making her mad.” Leroy smiled. “I wouldn’t push her, Morgana. She’s got a temper.”

  Morgana gaped at him with obvious disbelief. “What are you talking about, Leroy? Are you saying Sarah can hear our conversation? She’s in the other room.”

  “She’s a Red-Line,” Ramsey stated, unaffected. “She’s quite capable.”

  “Regardless, why would she break the glass? She’s obviously emotional and unstable.”

  “Don’t…” Ramsey held up his hand, trying to stop Morgana, but he was too late. There was a loud cracking sound, and the back leg of Morgana’s chair broke in two and Morgana fell backward in her seat and hit the floor.

  “…say that,” Ramsey continued fruitlessly. He watched Morgana try to right herself and sit up, but he made no effort to help her. He doubted he had the strength to lift her anyway.

  Declan emerged from his seat and leaned over to help her back on her feet.

  She stood and smoothed out her pantsuit before looking at the amused men before her. “I’m getting the definite impression she doesn’t like me.”

  “You seem to have that effect on people,” answered Ramsey.

  “I highly doubt that if you try to take her away from here, she’s going to go quietly,” Leroy stated as he watched Morgana attempt to digest the situation.

  “She’s been with all of us for several days now. She knows us and she trusts us,” said Declan. “And whether you like it or not, she has a connection with him.” He nodded his head toward his brother. “And she’s not likely to let go of it.”

  Having regained her composure, Morgana eyed the bedraggled men before her carefully, considering her options. “So, are you telling me that because Robin’s band of merry men has bonded, that this is the group with which I apparently now have to entrust the future of our race?”

  The three of them regarded each other and then looked back at her. “Seems so,” said Ramsey.

  She gathered her small purse, reaching into it to locate her phone. Once it was in her hand, she made as if to leave. “Then God help us all.”

  Leroy stood to see her out. “I hope he does.”

  Morgana made her way to the door. Once there, she stopped and looked back. Ramsey sat at the table, looking winded, Declan stood next to him, and Leroy was beside her at the door. “I’ll make some calls in the car. Hopefully, we can talk to Emerson today.” She paused before continuing. “I hope you all know what you’re doing.”

  “Not really,” said Leroy, “but we’re doing our best.”

  She opened the door and walked out, but before Leroy closed it, she stopped again. “I hope it’s enough.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Keep me informed.”

  “You, too.”

  With that, she turned and headed toward her car. Once she heard the front door close, she smiled to herself. Things were progressing as she had hoped, and she was pleased. Very pleased indeed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  EIGHTEEN HOURS LATER, Ramsey emerged from the bathroom after a long, hot shower, a shave, and some much-needed rest. After the draining conversation yesterday, Leroy had fed him and then directed him straight to the back bedroom to get some sleep. Attempting to argue only sapped his strength more, so he did as Leroy asked, thinking he’d catch a few more hours of shut-eye. Now, having slept almost the ent
ire eighteen hours, he felt human again. Since there was no mirror in the bathroom, he could only assume he looked human again, too.

  Heading into the kitchen area, he was happy to see the place had been cleaned up. The counters were wiped down, and the dishes no longer perched precariously on top of one another, waiting to be noticed. The dishwasher had been run, and the sink was empty. The living room still looked trashed, but the kitchen was usable again. He reached for a mug in the cabinet.

  “Feeling better?”

  He jumped and nearly dropped the cup in his hand. Ramsey turned to see Declan standing behind him.

  “I hate it when you do that.”

  Declan smiled. “Which is why I do it. Mind grabbing me one?”

  Ramsey debated throwing one at him, but he handed him one instead.

  “You certainly look better,” commented Declan.

  “No more Heat Miser?”

  “It was a good look on you.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  They both helped themselves to coffee.

  Ramsey noticed the quiet of the house. “Where is everyone?”

  Declan took a sip of his drink. “After you went to sleep yesterday, I convinced Leroy to take a break and go see his wife. He argued with me, but he finally went. He was worried we might be invaded again.”

  “And you knew we wouldn’t be?”

  “I feel nothing aggressive with regard to Sarah. At least not like I did before. It’s as if, whoever this man is, he’s biding his time. He’s not in any hurry, it seems.”

  “Then why come after her when he did?”

  “I think it had something to do with the timing. Probably whatever she was going through. I think he misjudged it, though. He came too early or too late.”

  “Good thing he did.”

  “No kidding.”

  “So Leroy went home?”

  “Said he’d be back this morning.”

  “Figured he would be. He’s a mother hen.” Ramsey took a mouthful of coffee and almost sighed in appreciation when the caffeine hit his system. “Where’s Hannah?”

  “In the master, with Sarah.”

  “I should go relieve her.” He took another sip of the hot drink and headed toward the master bedroom.

  “John…” Declan stepped away from the counter.

  Holding his cup, Ramsey stopped. “What?”

  “Mind if I ask you something?” Declan’s expression was unreadable. “What was that exchange between you and Morgana yesterday?”

  “Exchange? That’s a nice word for it.”

  “What does she have on you?”

  Ramsey’s face darkened for a moment when he realized what Declan was referring to. “She doesn’t have anything on me.”

  “Could have fooled me. You closed up. I could feel it.”

  “You should keep your feelings to yourself.”

  “Don’t be an ass. It’s a simple question. Answer it or don’t.”

  They stared at each other, both of them realizing that they teetered on the edge of yet another argument. Ramsey was debating which way he wanted to go when he realized they’d both had enough conflict this week to last them a lifetime. “It’s nothing,” he answered. “Just something from years ago.”

  “It’s more than nothing.” Declan put his cup down.

  Ramsey hesitated. He’d shared little about his past with anyone other than Leroy. Declan knew about his teenage years, but little else. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, set his cup down, and crossed his arms. “I made some mistakes. I was protecting someone. I got too close. It didn’t end well.”

  “You’re a wealth of information.”

  “Yeah, well, when it comes to me, that’s an encyclopedia entry.”

  “I get that. Who was she?”

  Ramsey glowered at him. “You should stop using those extrasensory powers of yours on me.”

  “It doesn’t take extrasensory powers to tell there’s a woman involved. What happened?”

  Ramsey squirmed and debated whether to talk about it. It was the closest the two of them had ever come to an intimate conversation.

  He finally allowed himself to reflect on it all. “It was early on in my role as a Protector. I was assigned to protect a woman who was the daughter of an esteemed Community member who was friends with most of the Council. You know how that goes.”

  Declan nodded his head in understanding. In the background, he sensed Leroy’s impending arrival. He shot out a mental request to Leroy to come in through the front quietly, and hoped he was astute enough to pick it up.

  “She didn’t really need me,” Ramsey continued, “but her father insisted someone be there for her. His family was of Red-Line descent, which occasionally causes unusual affects during Shifts, so I was assigned. It was a simple job, but it took time, and we got to know each other.”

  “And you fell for her?” Declan asked.

  “You want me to tell the story, or do you?”

  Declan held up his hands as if to say ‘sorry.’ “Please continue,” he said. He realized then that Leroy was entering the front door silently and sent out a mental thank you.

  Ramsey sighed. “So anyway, I was still a bit green as a Protector, but I thought I knew everything.”

  “Really?” Declan shot an appropriately shocked look at Ramsey.

  “Never mind that,” said Ramsey. “We got close and we liked each other, but I knew I had to avoid getting emotionally involved.” He gazed off at a distant point as he focused on the past, remembering events he wished he didn’t. “Once her Shift began, I stayed with her. I guess we thought it was sort of fun, just the two of us. I admit I entertained thoughts of maybe spending more time with her once the job was done.” He smiled softly, but then turned somber again. “Her symptoms were similar to those of the flu. She slept through most of it. I simply kept her comfortable and made sure she had what she needed. By the third day, she was coming out of it, but she suddenly got sicker. As she lay in bed, she started telling me things that had happened to her, what her father had done to her, how she’d been abused by him.” He looked up at Declan, who by now was listening attentively. “Shifts can frequently create emotional distress,” he explained, “and they can cause people to confront events in their life they may have previously ignored or forgotten.” He stopped for a moment.

  “Shifts have a funny way of doing that,” Declan added. “You can’t ignore stuck energy for long without having ill effects.”

  Ramsey nodded, stuck in his memories. “Problem was, since abuse is so uncommon among our people, I thought she was having a Sensory Shift.”

  “A Sensory Shift?” Declan asked.

  “A Sensory Shift is a period of extreme sensory activity and perception. It can manifest in various ways. A person can experience extreme light and sound sensitivity as well as detailed and emotional connections to possible past and maybe even future events. Maybe even past-life events. It’s rare, but for a Red-Line descendant, it’s not impossible.”

  He paused again, and Declan said nothing, allowing Ramsey to continue at his own pace. “Mia.” Ramsey sighed as if saying her name was painful. “Mia showed all the signs of it. I was disgusted by what I heard and horrified by what she said, but I believed she was only experiencing a Shift delusion or hallucination.” He stopped as the memories flooded him.

  “John…”

  “Anyway,” Ramsey continued before Declan could finish, “as she came out of her Shift, she withdrew. She refused to see her father. I tried to convince her that what she’d experienced was just the effects of her Shift and that she would improve with time, but she didn’t get better. In fact, she got worse. I worried about her and felt responsible for her, so I invited her to stay with me. I thought I could help her.” He paused again and took another breath. “She stayed about two weeks. But one day, I came home and…” He hesitated, remembering. Declan did not interrupt. Ramsey cleared his throat and continued. “Her father was there with the police. They took h
er by force. He had some sort of court order. I tried to stop them... They admitted her to a local hospital.”

  Declan let the information settle in. “How did he manage that?”

  “He had a powerful position and powerful friends. It wasn’t hard. It was then that it finally hit me that what she had experienced was real. That he had, in fact, abused her.”

  “And he was afraid she would say something?”

  “She had already been talking about it. She was preparing to confront him.” He snorted to himself scornfully. “And here I was trying to convince her she was wrong. That she’d only experienced sensory overload. I had no idea I was helping him instead of her. I was stupid.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “But I should have.” Ramsey stood quietly, lost in thought.

  “What happened?” asked Declan.

  “He kept her there for six months. I tried to see her, but my access to her was denied. Her dad blamed me for her ‘illness,’ as he called it.” Ramsey finally broke from his unfocused gaze. “The Council reassigned me to other cases to keep me away. They didn’t like all the attention the situation was stirring up. I went and did my job, but I always tried to keep up with her, to try and see her. I’d hoped to hear that she’d been released and that I’d be able to help her at some point.”

  “She did get released, though, after six months?” Declan asked.

  “She was.” Ramsey spoke softly.

  Declan waited, but Ramsey didn’t immediately answer. “And?” he asked.

  Ramsey felt the pain of remorse and knew Declan could sense his discomfort but he kept going. “I came home from an assignment, planning on heading straight over to see her, but Leroy met me at my door.”

  “Leroy? Why?”

  “Because...” Ramsey stopped again. “Mia…” he said tautly.

  Leroy stepped out from the shadows. “Mia committed suicide when she returned to her father’s. I met Sherlock at his house to give him the news.” He went over to stand next to his friend, who made no reaction to his arrival.

  “Suicide?” It was all Declan could think to say. Suicide was extremely rare for Eudorans.