by Debra Doxer
I shake my head. There’s no changing my mind. “Can you tell me her name?”
“Kaylie.”
Thinking how pretty that sounds, I ask him, “Where’s her family? Do they come to see her here?”
“They come during morning and evening visiting hours every day,” he replies, pushing open the door.
I hope they’ll find a healthy Kaylie when they next see her. I pull in a deep breath and try to calm down. When I look at him, he seems to understand my nerves, and he smiles encouragingly. Once we step inside, I hear him shut the door behind us as I look toward the hospital bed.
The girl, Kaylie, appears much the same as she did the other day, except her red hair has a pink barrette in it now. Her chest rises and falls beneath the blankets with her steady breathing. As I approach the bed, I can feel the energy inside me wanting to form. I glance at my father and he moves to stand beside me.
“I’ll stay right here, just in case,” he says, his voice reassuring.
Nodding, I grip the bed rail. My eyes travel over her features, lingering on the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose, thinking how small and vulnerable she seems. Then I take a deep breath and reach for her small hand. Her skin is so terribly cold as I hold her fingers in mine. My plan was to send the energy out to her slowly, trying to monitor her reaction, but it bursts from within me, heating my skin and making my whole body tremble with its force. I can’t hold it back as it streams through my arm and out of my hand into hers. Just like last time, I feel no resistance from the power that coils between us. I sense none of the forces that fought against me when I was trying to cure Penelope. Everything about that healing felt wrong while everything about this feels so perfectly right.
I’m watching her face as her eyes open and focus on me. When the euphoria bubbles up inside me, she smiles.
I’m burning through the disease in her body, ridding her of it with the heat my energy generates. She’s growing stronger beneath my fingers. I can feel it happening.
“My God,” my father whispers beside me.
My eyes close as my body hums with power. I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s as though I’m lit up inside. My power knows exactly what to do. It feels strong and precise, and the healing is nearly effortless. But then just as I’m thinking that, it stutters. My eyes pop open as it starts to diminish on its own. But I know I’m not finished. She’s not cured, and I dig deeper, trying to bring it back again. But it slackens quickly, and I feel a ring of pressure surrounding my arm. Glancing down, I see my father’s hand gripping me tightly.
“Keep going,” he says. His face is intent on mine as his fingers tighten painfully.
I don’t understand what he’s doing. I try to pull my arm away without breaking the connection to Kaylie. The energy is still moving between us, but it starts to tug on me, grating against my skin as it stops flowing toward her and changes direction. I look at my father, and I realize that he’s drawing it into himself.
“What are you doing?” I cry, trying to wrench my arm away. But he grabs my other arm, breaking my hold on Kaylie completely. He’s stealing my power, forcing it out of me and into himself. I struggle against his grip, but I can’t get him to release me. Instead, I try to stop the energy. But somehow he’s making it grow, and he’s drawing it out in a steady stream. I can’t get control of it, and it’s starting to burn beneath my skin, like my blood is changing to liquid fire inside my veins. I hear myself scream as my legs buckle beneath me while my father forcibly holds me up by my arms.
From the corner of my eye, I see Kaylie getting down off the bed, watching us with a frightened expression.
“Stop, please,” I beg. I can’t hold back the tears as the room tilts and darkens around me.
I feel it when he drags me toward the bed and the energy finally begins to dwindle. His eyes are on me and their green depths are placid, a calm sea with nothing behind them.
“Is this what you wanted from me all along?” I ask weakly.
He lifts me up and lays me down as a frightened Kaylie tries to open the door to run out. I can’t seem to move. My muscles are heavy and slack. It’s a struggle to stay alert.
“I had no idea this was possible,” he answers. “A plague is coming, Raielle. I have to be ready. I have to be strong. And you’re going to help me. Just not in the way I initially thought.”
His words flow over me as I struggle to move, to do something as simple as lift my head, but I can’t. Lucas is on his way, and I don’t know what he’ll find when he arrives or what they’ll tell him. My eyelids are too heavy to keep open, and I wonder if I’m dying, understanding too late how foolish I’ve been.
When sleep finally drags me under, I can feel the pillow growing damp beneath my cheek.
I POUND on the button, but they won’t open the gate. Then I pull out my phone and call the number Raielle dialed me from, but no one picks up and no voice mail answers either. It just fucking rings. Finally, I leave my truck on the side of the road and climb over the gate. I begin to walk, knowing that something’s wrong, and I move faster, breaking into a jog when I hear the mechanical gate swing open behind me. The Porsche comes through. It’s Shane.
“I need a ride to the house,” I tell him, moving to the passenger door without waiting for his agreement.
He scowls at me once I’m inside. “I thought that was your truck I saw. Why didn’t you hit the buzzer?”
I turn angry eyes on him. “Your sister is up there and they won’t let me in. I don’t suppose you know what’s going on?”
He shifts his gaze forward as he starts to drive again. “Remember when you asked me if my father would ever hurt Raielle?”
All my attention focuses on his face. “You said no more than anyone else.”
He glances at me. “I might have been wrong about that.”
I go still. There’s only the feel of my heart wanting to pump right out of my chest.
Shane shifts in his seat. “He heard an argument you two had during the lockdown. He knew you were trying to convince her to leave. At first he thought you’d be good for her. But he changed his mind. He decided to break you two up to get you out of the picture. My father gets what he wants and right now he wants Raielle for some reason.”
My jaw locks up tight because I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.
“That girl tonight was supposed to get Raielle to dump you, which I guess didn’t work since you’re here. Unless you’ve gone all stalker on her.”
My hand slams against the dashboard. Then it does it again, vibrating all the way down my arm.
“Hey, watch the car,” Shane complains. “Where did she find you anyway, anger management class?”
“You’re making jokes?” My anger is about to combust, and he must realize that because without my doing or saying anything else, he gulps and his expression turns serious. “She said Apollo was driving her here so she could help a sick girl in his clinic. Is that the real reason?” I ask.
His hand rubs behind his neck. “I don’t know why he brought her here. That’s the truth. We could call Grant or Apollo. Maybe they know.”
“Do it,” I tell him. “Call Grant.”
He glares at me. “I don’t have to help you at all. I only told you all that because you’re already on your way to the house, and he’s just going to throw you out. You might as well go home.”
“Call him.”
Shooting me an annoyed look, he finds the number on his phone, and when he starts to talk, I grab it from him. “Grant?”
“You’re with Shane?” he asks, surprised.
We’re just pulling up to the house when I finish explaining all that’s gone on tonight. Grant has been listening quietly, not seeming surprised, when he says, “John can be dangerous. Wait outside, I’m on my way.”
I hand the phone back to Shane, and he gives me a once-over. “Are you going to do as he says, or are you going to charge in there and make everything worse?”
I grip the door handle. “I can’t wait. What if he’s hurting her?”
Shane rolls his eyes. “His bodyguards are in there. If he doesn’t want you inside, you’re not getting in. It makes sense to wait for Grant. He’ll have more luck than you or even I will. I’ll wait with you,” he says. The keys jangle as he pulls them from the ignition.
My head snaps in his direction. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind finding out what my dad wants from her. Besides, she’s my sister.”
“Yeah, lucky her,” I mutter, staring out at the house as my knee starts to bounce with impatience.
I WAKE up disoriented with a dry mouth and a pounding head. It feels like I’m hung over again but ten times worse. I wonder if I dreamed that my father came after me like some kind of vampire. But once I realize where I am, I know it really happened.
I’m lying in the same bed Kaylie once occupied, looking at the quarter moon through a small rectangular window at the top of the wall. I’m waiting for my strength to return, for the ability to lift myself up and out of this bed, but I’m still weak as a kitten. I know the door to this small room has opened several times, but it takes me so long to turn my head, it closes again before I can see who’s there.
It still seems unreal that my father would do this to me. I knew the image he projected wasn’t really him, and I suspected he was agnostic at best when it came to right and wrong. When Meera’s daughter told us the rumors she’d heard about him, I didn’t dismiss them as impossible. Although, I didn’t want to believe them. But I pushed all that aside for the little girl who was lying here. I needed to help her with a single-mindedness that wouldn’t be deterred by the possibility of danger.
A plague is coming, he said. He’s not just dangerous, he’s crazy, too.
Gripping the bed rail for leverage, I pull myself up, hissing sharply when my brain feels like it’s shifting inside my head. My hand starts to slip because it and the rest of my body are drenched in sweat. I’m trying to listen for the doorknob turning or for any other noise as I shift my legs over the side and just sit there, breathing hard, listening to the sound of my harsh breaths echoing in the room. I don’t understand what’s happening to me. When my father stole my energy, I wonder if he did something else, because it feels like I’m burning up with fever. Everything hurts.
Next I try to slide down to my feet, but gravity works against me and I hit the floor hard, my hip banging painfully against the tile floor. I turn toward the door, and I know I have to get to it. I don’t know what my next move is once I’m through it, but the door is what I focus on as I struggle to pull myself up.
WE’RE A restless group gathered in the library of the house waiting for John. The same place Raielle and I sat just the other day. When Grant arrived, he went running up the steps and we followed. Shane was right. The guards were ready to turn me away, but they hesitated when they saw Grant and in the end, they let us all inside.
Raielle would be surprised to know that she had us all here for her now, and that her father was behind the scene back at my apartment earlier. We’ve been kept waiting for nearly half an hour with the guards watching over us, and I can’t wait a minute longer knowing she could be here somewhere hurting or frightened. Just as I turn for the door, John and Nyla come through it, their expressions solemn.
We’re intent on them when John says, “You’re all here for Raielle?” His curious eyes stay on Shane the longest.
“She told Lucas that Apollo brought her here to help the girl with cancer in the clinic,” Grant says.
This seems to surprise John. He probably thought she wouldn’t be speaking to me at all by then.
He nods at Grant. “I asked Apollo to find her. I saw a marked improvement in the girl after Raielle’s healing. I hoped she could help her again. But Raielle got it in her head that she could cure her. She wouldn’t stop when I asked her to.” John’s gaze meets mine. “Just like last time.”
My breath halts at that possibility even as I’m narrowing suspicious eyes on him.
“She acted foolishly and I’m afraid she gave the disease to herself,” John says stiffly. He looks like he’s trying to feign being upset, but failing miserably.
Shane is the first to speak. “Can you help her?”
His lips press together. “I could, but she wants no part of what it would take to do that.”
I don’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. “I want to see her,” I say.
John’s green eyes shift to me again. “She’s quarantined for now. Her immune system is compromised.”
I take a step toward him. “I don’t care. I want to see her.”
His expression doesn’t change. “You don’t care about putting her in more jeopardy than she’s already in? We’re taking good care of her. If she improves tomorrow, you can see her then.”
I take the three steps necessary to close the distance between us. Nyla’s expression tenses, but John doesn’t flinch. “I’m going down there now.”
Finally his calm shifts to annoyance. “I told you—” John begins.
“I hear you perfectly fine, but I don’t give a fuck.” I start to move around him when he shouts out to his bodyguard. Feet pounding down the hall alert me to their fast approach.
“Lucas, step back,” Grant says. When one of the guards appears and grabs for me, I dodge him just as I spot Grant moving forward with a handgun pointed at John.
“What are you doing?” John asks. His voice is calm despite the way Nyla is now clutching his arm.
Grant shakes his head. “The question is, what are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of my daughter,” he states.
“No,” Grant says. “I don’t think you are.” He glances at me briefly before turning and firing a shot. John goes down, his head jerking back before his body hits the floor. When the next deafening pop sounds, Nyla crumples in a heap, and before the guard can turn and run, Grant nails him, too, clipping the side of his head, just like the others.
My adrenaline is surging and my ears are ringing. “They’ll heal,” Grant tells me before turning to Shane. “Do I have to shoot you, too?” he asks.
Shane eyes the bodies on the ground before giving Grant a wry look and saying, “Nope.”
“Let’s go find her.” Grant brushes past me, and I hear him firing again. I have to step over the carnage in the doorway to get out into the hall. For a moment, I’m sure I must be imagining this or having some kind of insane nightmare. But when Grant stops at the clinic door and glances back, I know Raielle is down there, and if they’re going to all this trouble to keep us away from her, Grant is right. We have to do whatever it takes to get her back.
When Grant starts down the stairs, I’m right behind him, and I can hear him barking at the people in the clinic. Once I hit the bottom step, I see him aiming the gun at a terrified nurse. But I move past him, concentrating on the door to the room I know must have been her destination.
The moment my eyes land on the tiny square window at the top of the closed door, I can see that the bed is empty. But I go inside anyway. I don’t even remember turning the knob or moving, but the next thing I know I’m staring down at Raielle lying on the hard tile floor. I bend to touch my hand to her cheek. It’s cold and clammy. She has a sickly gray pallor to her face. “Ray?”
Her eyes flutter open. Their translucent blue color looks even more pronounced against her bloodless skin. She says nothing, just looks at me, and my insides splinter apart.
“We need to get her out to my car,” Grant says from behind me. When he sees her, the concern on his face is clear. “Maybe John was telling the truth. If she gave herself the girl’s disease, Meera can help her.” He tucks his gun away and crouches down to help me lift her.
But I don’t want any help, and I block her from him. A soft moan falls from her lips when I lift her up and cradle her against me. I can feel more cracks forming inside me.
Grant leads the way out. There�
�s a door to the outside just beyond the desk where the nurse is still standing, stoic and quiet, her gaze moving with us as we walk past. Once we’re out, I realize we’re at the side of the house. The yard is dark with shadows as I hold Raielle close and follow Grant up a hill toward the front.
The black GTO is parked off to the side under some trees. Grant gets it started, and he’s out again, holding the seat forward so I can slide into the back with Raielle. Before I do, I follow his gaze to the front of the house, where I see Shane standing in the doorway, watching us.
Grant nudges my shoulder, wanting me to get in the car, and I do, laying Raielle down on the seat before following after her. The fact that she’s hardly stirred since I found her makes it hard not to panic. I rest her head on my lap and smooth my hand over her forehead, pushing the tendrils of hair away from her face.
“We’re going back to Palm Springs?” I ask, looking at his eyes in the rearview mirror.
He nods as he turns onto the freeway.
“I can’t believe she did this again,” I say. Her chest rises and falls as she draws in each breath. My heart is still racing in the aftermath of what just happened. I stare at the back of Grant’s head, thinking how easily he shot four people. “Why do you have a gun?” I ask.
He eyes me again in the mirror. “It’s necessary sometimes,” he says. Then he reaches over and turns on the radio, letting me know he doesn’t want to talk.
“HE DRAINED her energy. Feeding off her like a parasite. I had a vision of it when I started healing her. She suffered. He was ruthless.”
I recognize Meera’s voice along with the warm, peaceful, floating sensation she’s giving me.
Gradually becoming more aware, I try to nod, confirming what she’s saying, and I can hear someone moving toward us. Then a familiar hand finds me, brushing at my cheek, and another gently grips my waist. Tears slip from my closed eyes. He wipes them away, murmuring softly to me, telling me it’s going to be okay.
I want to tell him I’m sorry, but I make no sounds. I’m afraid I’ve hurt him too many times, put him through too much. Until I feel the slightest pressure of his lips on my forehead before he’s gone again. I only feel Meera’s hands taking both of mine now. She fills me with her own energy until I’m finally able to open my eyes.
