by Debra Doxer
Meera is all I see at first, and I take in her kind face as she sits beside my bed. Then I can make out Grant standing behind her. His hands are buried in his pockets, and his face is tight with worry despite the small smile he’s giving me.
When Lucas touches my forehead, I turn and see him. My gaze stays on his lips and his strong chin, afraid to take in any more. Fearing what I may see in his eyes. I won’t be able to handle his anger, even though I know that’s exactly what I deserve. But when he bends down, forcing me to take in his expression, I see a potent mix of compassion and love. There isn’t a hint of animosity there. I smile and his eyes grow shiny as he looks down at me.
“Thank you,” he says, turning to Meera. When he leans back away from me, I pull my hand out of Meera’s and reach for his arm. He seems surprised as I tug weakly on him, needing to be close to him, needing it like air. I reclaim my other hand and stretch it out toward him, desperately fisting my fingers in his shirt. As he lowers himself to sit on the bed beside me, I use my grasp on him to pull myself up. He meets me halfway, wrapping his arms around me, hugging me close. Silent tears trail over my cheeks as I wind my arms beneath his, pressing myself to him, drinking in the comfort he gives me. I cling to him, never wanting to let go. He holds me tightly, running his hand over my head and down my back soothingly.
When he leans back to look at me, I realize we’re alone. Everyone else has left the room.
“He hurt you,” Lucas says quietly, and when regret takes over his face, it nearly undoes me.
I nod and he continues to hold me, not saying anything else. When my grip finally loosens, I can see the questions in his eyes. I don’t want to talk about it or even think about it, but he wants to know, and I need to tell him.
“He stole my energy while I was healing the girl we met.” I swallow hard. “His hand was around my arm and the energy started to flow into him. I couldn’t pull it back, and he wouldn’t stop.” I close my eyes because the blood starts to rush to my head. “I still don’t know if I could have healed that girl, and he obviously cared nothing about her.” As I look up at him, my next words are a strained whisper. “I watched him the whole time, and there was only emptiness in his eyes. He was erasing me bit by bit and he didn’t care.”
Lucas doesn’t say anything as his hand strokes my hair.
“I closed my eyes to all the warnings, and I didn’t listen to you. How could I have been so stupid? I don’t know why you’re not angry with me. You should be.”
He seems regretful now. “I’m not, Ray. Not at you. I talked with Meera when we got here. I understand better now, I think.”
I look at him, wondering what he means.
“She explained some things to me,” he says. “She said that the need to help people is as basic to you as eating and sleeping. That it’s not fair of me to ask you to suppress it, or to get angry when you become obsessed with helping someone. It’s instinctual for you. Now that your power has grown stronger, you couldn’t deny it if you tried.”
I nod, realizing that Meera really does understand, and relieved that she was somehow able to make him see what I’d been unable to.
He smiles sadly at me, and I swallow against the lump in my throat as I begin to think of how my father nearly took this from me. If he’d had his way, I’d have lost everything. My father cared nothing for me, and he only wanted the power he could take from me. He took it all without mercy or any second thoughts for how he was hurting me.
Lucas’s thumbs brush over my cheeks, wiping away the tears I hadn’t even realized were there. “Stop, please,” he whispers. “You’re breaking my heart, Ray.”
“I love you so much,” I tell him, hating that I’m falling apart, that I can’t just lock it away and stop what I’m feeling. But this is different. This is my own father trying to hurt me, and I don’t know where to put all the pain I’m feeling.
Lucas lowers us to the bed and presses his forehead to mine as he continues to rub his hand up and down my back. I close my eyes while he tries to keep away the darkness for me the way he always wants to.
I’M SHAKING my head as I leave her room. She fell back to sleep in my arms. Her pain is so sharp, I can feel it cutting me. I watch as Meera leaves her own room down the hall and walks back into the guest bedroom where Raielle and I are staying. Grant has been sleeping on the couch.
Meera told us it could take days of healing sessions to undo what Raielle’s father did to her. I’m beyond thankful to Meera and reluctantly so to Grant, too. If it weren’t for him, she might still be there in her father’s house.
I’m standing in the kitchen, and I can’t keep still. My skin feels too tight. My anger is simmering beneath it, mixing with feelings of frustration and helplessness so strong I can barely contain them. They’re like living things inside me, blaring in my ears and twisting me into knots.
I hear Grant calling after me as I push open the slider and shove out into the night. Then I run. I move mindlessly in the darkness, dirt and rocks crunching beneath my feet. My fury feels toxic, like it’s poisoning me. And it’s not only directed at Raielle’s father, it’s spilling over onto her, too. I can’t protect her if she won’t let me. The tighter I hold on to her, the more trouble she finds. Meera says that she can’t help herself. I told Raielle that I understood, and I do. But I can’t be expected to accept it. Not when shit like this keeps happening.
My lungs heave, and I can’t see anything in front of me. I know the mountains are out there somewhere, but I see only blackness. Coming to a stop, I brace myself on my knees, pulling in gulps of air. Then I just stand there for I don’t know how long, breathing hard, looking at nothing, before I turn around and start walking back toward the lights of Meera’s house.
“Feel better now?”
I squint as I near the back patio. Grant is sitting there at the table, watching my approach.
“No.” I drop down into the chair across from him, running my hands through the hair that’s plastered to my damp forehead. “I want to thank you for what you did today.”
Grant shrugs like it was nothing.
“I know you have your own agenda, but I’m still grateful to you.”
He leans in, putting his forearms on the table. “My only agenda is to keep her safe.”
When I say nothing because I don’t quite believe him, he leans back in his chair again and looks out into the night.
Grant seems a little too relaxed for a guy who just shot a bunch of people and burned all his bridges. “You were pretty good with that gun today.”
Rubbing a hand along his cheek, he says, “I travel to some rough places. John may have decided to only help rich folks, but I haven’t.”
“Do you have it on you now?” I ask.
He looks at me for a long moment before nodding slowly.
My eyes travel over his T-shirt, which he’s wearing loose over a pair of jeans. I’m looking for a sign of it, but there is none. I’d never seen anyone get shot before other than on TV and in the movies, and it was nothing like that. It was so much worse; the harsh burst of sound, the wet thunk of the bullets hitting their bodies, the metallic smell of blood.
Grant senses my unease. “John’s bodyguards carry weapons when they go out with him. We were lucky they didn’t pull them on us today.”
I’m not sure why he told me that, maybe to justify his own actions. “Are you sure you didn’t kill John?” I ask. Not that I would mind.
“I clipped him, just enough to knock him out, real easy for him to heal. But I shot Nyla right between the eyes,” he says, placing a finger between his eyebrows. “If John gives a shit about her, he’ll have to spend time healing her. He’ll be distracted for a little while, at least.”
“Distracted from what?”
He eyes me solemnly. “From coming after us. If he was able to take Raielle’s energy and make himself stronger with it, he’s going to want more. He’s going to keep wanting it.”
At first, I was relieved when Meera explai
ned that Raielle hadn’t given herself the girl’s disease like John said. But when she told us what really happened, my relief was short-lived. “Why Raielle?” I ask. “Why can’t he just siphon off power from Shane or from you or one of the others?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because her power is as strong as his, maybe even stronger. Taking it from one of us might not do him as much good.”
I think of that sunset we watched together on the beach the other day. I thought things were turning around for us. I thought the worst was behind us.
Grant stands and walks to the door. Before he goes in, he turns back to me. “Make no mistake, this is a deadly game we’re playing now. John isn’t happy when he doesn’t have control, and we’ve just shown him how out of control he is.”
When he disappears inside, a shiver runs through me. This is why her father wanted her here. Everything that’s happened so far led to that moment in the clinic when she finally saw him for who he really is. And now Grant says that he won’t give up. As long as John wants her, this will never be over.
“YOU CAN trace our kind all the way back to ancient times.” Meera smiles, her thoughts far away. “For most of our history, we kept to ourselves, insulated and safe from the rest of the world. We lived that way for centuries, generation after generation, keeping each other healthy, living long, happy lives. But we couldn’t stay that way forever. Some of us were lured away with the promise of money and fame. Others simply wanted to leave. Little by little, the old ways disappeared, and we were scattered across the globe.”
She shakes her head. “But we discovered that we can’t live that way. We need each other. Eventually, we came back together in smaller groups in different places, but it was never the same. What we used to be is gone, and what we are now is something very different.”
“How many of us are there?” I ask.
“There’s no way to know exactly. We have communities all over the world.”
“Where do we come from? Why are we this way?”
She shrugs carelessly. “I suppose we’re a mutation or an adaptation, like every other creature on the planet.”
“So, we don’t have some kind of alien DNA inside us or something?” I chuckle, not admitting that actually occurred to me as a possibility.
She laughs, too. “Not that I’m aware of.”
It feels good to laugh, but my next question shrinks my smile. “Is my father very important?”
“No,” Meera says quickly, as though that thought were too terrible to contemplate. “Not in the overall scheme of things, thank goodness. But he’s important enough, for too many of us. He’s always been more powerful than most of us. His father was, too. It was natural that he would assume a leadership position when his father died.” She takes my hand in hers. “We’ve always wanted a leader, someone to be the center of our own little community. Usually, it’s the most powerful among us who rises up to take that role. But it’s always been someone with our best interests at heart, until your father. He pretends to be caring and kind, but we’ve come to see that he’s not.”
I glance down at her hand, gripping mine, remembering the look in his eyes when he was draining my power from me.
“I’m sorry to say that about your father,” she adds.
But she needn’t apologize for that. As far as I’m concerned, he’s less than nothing to me. “What would he have done if Grant and Lucas hadn’t gotten me out of there?” I ask.
Meera licks her lips before answering. “Waited to see if you got your strength back, and then drained you again.”
“Would I have?” I ask. “Would I have recovered without your help?” I tense, waiting for her answer.
Her eyes turn sympathetic. “No. I don’t think so. He took too much. If he had stopped sooner, you might have recovered on your own.”
I nod and look down again, feeling the ugly hatred I have for him burning inside me. “Do you think he knew that?” I ask, my voice a hurt whisper.
Sadness weighs down her expression. “I don’t know. This is new territory for all of us.”
“How did they get me away from him?” I remember Lucas carrying me to the car, but not much before that.
Her thin lips turn up slightly. “Grant says they had to fight for you. They took you by force,” she says, seeming impressed. “Your father wasn’t about to let you go.”
Fight for me? I swallow, trying to picture it. Then I realize what I should have known the moment I woke up here. “He’s coming after me, isn’t he?”
Without hesitation, Meera nods, and I understand the risk she’s taking by helping me. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m sorry if I put you in any danger.”
She places her hand on my knee. “It’s going to take time for your strength to return, Raielle. You’re right where you should be.”
Adrienne appears in the doorway. “Someone needs to stop John,” she says flatly.
Meera tenses at her daughter’s statement, but she doesn’t refute it. I think of my father coming here, possibly hurting Meera and Adrienne or Lucas and Grant, when all they’ve done is try to help me.
“Could I do the same thing to him that he did to me?” I hear myself asking, the idea forming at the same time the words are leaving my mouth.
Meera doesn’t answer, and I lift myself to an upright position to see her eyes narrowed at me.
“You mean take his power?” she asks carefully.
I nod.
She glances at Adrienne. Then she turns back to me. “Yes. You probably could.” Then she smiles and laughs softly. “That would be a fitting end for him.”
My gaze travels between them. “I’m being serious.”
“So am I,” Meera says, her smile disappearing.
My eyes go wide with understanding. Hers are steady and intent.
We all hear the front door open, and the spell is broken as Meera blinks and looks away. My shoulders fall, and my pulse echoes inside my head. Adrienne leaves and soon Lucas’s and Grant’s tall forms are filling the doorway. Lucas pushes past Grant and comes to sit beside me. “How are you feeling?” he asks.
I tear my eyes away from Meera and offer him a smile. “Better.”
He gives me a skeptical look as he presses a finger into the crease between my brows that drives him nuts. “What’s going on?”
I tense, knowing I can’t tell him this, not yet. I need more time with it myself. “Meera thinks John is going to come after me,” I reply.
He doesn’t look surprised. “Grant said that, too.”
Grant steps farther into the room. “He won’t get near you. Don’t worry.”
I watch as Meera licks her lips, getting ready to speak. “Do you know how John came to have so much influence over all of us?” she asks. “He took it. Little by little. First, by using his power to gain our respect. When that respect waned, he used threats to maintain control. Now he uses fear. But power is a tenuous thing. It’s easy to lose your grip on it, especially when your grip isn’t as strong as it used to be.”
Her eyes return to me on her last sentence. “Well,” she says, looking away and clapping her hands together once. “I think Raielle could use some rest.”
Lucas agrees with her and begins to usher everyone out of the room. When he closes the door behind him, his hand goes to the back of his neck and he just stands there for a moment before turning to face me.
When he asks, “What aren’t you telling me?” while watching me closely, I’m caught off guard at first. Then my mouth falls open, and I wonder if I’m that transparent, or if he’s fishing for information. My jaw snaps closed, and I know I have to tell him, that the time to mull this over on my own has already run out. But I also know what his reaction will be, and it seems pointless to walk knowingly into an argument I can’t possibly win. He’ll never agree to this, and I don’t want to upset him.
“What is it?” he asks, walking back toward me with a look that warns me to be honest with him.
<
br /> I sigh and brace myself. “I’m thinking about something Meera said before you and Grant came in.”
He blows out a heavy breath as his suspicion is confirmed. “What did she say?”
My eyes are on his, ready for his reaction. “That it might be possible for me to take my father’s energy the way he took mine.”
Lucas frowns. After a moment, he asks, “And how exactly would you do that?”
“The same way he did it to me.”
The skin around his eyes tightens. “Since you’re never going near him again, that’s not possible. Is it?”
My back straightens as I embrace the idea even more. “It would finally stop him.”
His hands go to his hips. “You’re not seriously considering this?”
My mouth goes dry as I nod my head.
He stalks closer to me. “Forget it. It’s too dangerous, and it would be a temporary fix. When he recovers—”
“He wouldn’t recover,” I add quickly. “If no one helps him, he won’t ever get his power back.”
He stares at me, and I can see my words are registering. “You mean, what he did to you, you never would have… Jesus, Ray.”
I watch his stricken expression. “This would stop him and make sure he couldn’t ever hurt anyone else again.”
Lucas runs his hands over his face. “In order to do this, you have to be touching him?”
“Yes.”
He turns away and starts to pace. Finally, his face fills with determination and he sits down beside me. “Look, I’m glad you told me, but no. You can’t go near him again. I mean it. I know you weren’t asking my permission because you don’t need it. But I’m asking you. Drop it. Put it out of your mind.”
Sighing at his response but not surprised, I glance away, only to have his fingers land on my chin and turn me back to face him.
