‘You’re saying that he has some sort of preternatural gift?’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘like precognition?’
‘Yes, but he has denied it for so long, denied his true nature, that he has no control over it. He doesn’t know it yet, but he needs you as much as you need him.’
‘Seriously?’ her tone was dead pan. ‘I’m supposed to teach him how to switch on his visions?’
‘Not exactly,’ he chuckled. ‘Theo still has the visions, but you need to help him to accept them for what they are and you’re going to be up against years of religious conditioning.’
‘Great,’ she muttered unenthusiastically.
‘What?’
‘A seventeenth century Witchfinder and a twenty first century witch? Call me crazy but it doesn’t exactly say match made in heaven to me,’ she replied dryly.
‘I’m sure you two will work it out,’ he shrugged, ‘but you need to cut the guy some slack. In his time they hadn’t even hit the industrial revolution yet and now he’s been picked up and thrown down in the middle of the twenty first century. He’ll probably find the adjustment a little rough and he has no one to talk to. No one who won’t think he’s crazy at least.’
‘I do think he’s crazy.’
‘No you don’t,’ he smiled. ‘Just give the guy a chance, he might surprise you.’
‘You’re trying to make me feel bad,’ she muttered.
‘You already feel bad, I’m just offering you a solution.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked him curiously.
‘Olivia,’ he hesitated, ‘I know you don’t know me and you have no reason to trust me, but where I’m from I do know you and I owe both you and Theo more than I can ever repay.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what that is?’
‘No,’ the corner of his mouth curved into an amused smile.
‘I don’t like holding a trump card and not knowing what it is,’ she smiled slowly.
He wandered back to the center island and picked up a manila folder she hadn’t noticed before.
‘You’re going to need this,’ he handed it to her.
Curiously opening it up she found a birth certificate, drivers licence, social security number, passport, a bank statement and credit cards, and all of them were in Theo’s name.’
‘What’s all this for?’
‘Theo is here more or less permanently now. There is no way I can return him to his original timeline without serious consequences. If he is going to survive here he will need a paper trail, in case anyone starts looking. The bank statement and cards are real, he’s going to need some start up cash.’
Olivia’s mouth fell open.
‘There’s over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in this account.’
‘Like I said, I owe more than I can ever repay.’
‘Where did the money come from?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘Don’t worry,’ he chuckled lightly, ‘it’s untraceable.’
‘And that’s supposed to make me not worry?’
He smiled, looking at her with a genuine affection.
‘I have to go now.’
‘Can you at least tell me your name?’
‘It’s Sam,’ he threw her a last smile, hitting her with the full force of his dimples, and then he disappeared.
Olivia sat for several moments staring at the empty kitchen. She wondered idly if she’d finally lost her mind. She might’ve suspected the whole thing was a hallucination, except for the faint crackle of electricity in the air and the folder in her hand containing Theo’s new life.
She should probably wait a few days, she told herself. Give herself time to absorb the sheer insanity that seemed to be her life, or at the very least, figure out what the hell she was going to do with a three hundred year old hot guy.
Even if she managed to get him released from Riverside, where was she supposed to take him? It wasn’t as if she could let him stay with her and she really didn’t want to burden her friends, when she was only just getting to know them again.
It was bad enough they’d inadvertently been caught up in a murder investigation. She didn’t need to be dragging them into the middle of a supernatural crisis. She knew they had chosen not to use their gifts, that they didn’t embrace the power they’d been born with. That being said however, Jake was still a cop and when all was said and done, she trusted him.
With a deep sigh of resignation she grabbed up her jacket, stuffing the folder into her purse. She yanked on her boots and headed for the door, pulling out her phone as she went.
If she was crazy enough to do this, she was going to need help.
An hour later she found herself staring at the Riverside psychiatric facility. It looked nice which was surprising. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it seemed like a regular building surrounded by uniformly manicured lawns. There was no perimeter fence, no bars on the windows and no heavily armed security, unlike Morley Ridge. She’d only visited that place once and she’d found it terrifying. Not just the imposing building, which looked as if it had been plucked straight out of a horror movie, but even the ground Morley Ridge sat upon felt as if it were stained with violence and death. She wasn’t surprised her father had wanted to escape his imprisonment there.
Feeling a sudden wave of panic she shook her head and took a deep breath. Trying not to think about her father, she swallowed back the faint tinge of nausea. That was a problem for another day.
Concentrating instead on the whitewashed building before her, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Riverside had none of the foreboding overtures of Morley Ridge, in fact it seemed relatively normal. Clutching her purse tighter on her shoulder she turned towards the main building and making her way past the neatly trimmed shrubbery, she approached the entrance.
She hesitated and for one insane moment she wanted to run away from it all. She wanted to get back in her car and just drive anywhere, leave everything behind and just be free. Except she wouldn’t be free. She’d tried running for the last twenty years and what had it gotten her? She’d still ended up unhappy, alone and back in the place where it all started.
No, this time she had to face it all and deal with it. Starting with Theodore Beckett.
Getting in to see him was surprisingly easy, compared to the hoops she’d had to jump though getting in to see her father, which she’d chickened out of in the end anyway. But this was different, this wasn’t a high security facility and Theodore Beckett wasn’t a convicted criminal. As far as the authorities were concerned he was just some guy with amnesia and the quicker they found someone willing to take him off their hands and free up a bed, the better.
She signed in and had a brief word with the receptionist, a perky redhead named Jeanette. She was told that the patients were socializing in the day room which was through the double doors and to the left, at the end of the corridor. Smiling in amusement Olivia headed in that direction, trying to figure out what on earth she was going to say to him when she found him.
The day room was large and bright and airy. The crisp autumn sunlight filtered in through the large windows surrounding the room. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with generic art prints screwed to the walls. A television and couch sat in one corner of the room and tables and chairs were set up around the wide space.
Olivia wandered past a tall, broad, well muscled male nurse wearing white pants and a white polo shirt bearing the Riverside insignia. With his ID and a bunch of keys clipped to his belt he stood watchfully with his arms crossed at his chest, looking like a pro wrestler.
Patients milled around the room harmlessly. Some sat watching an old re-run of ‘Cheers’. More sat round a rectangular table playing checkers, although she was sure in checkers you weren’t supposed to build little towers out of the counters. One patient in particular stood staring at a plastic plant pot swaying silently, whilst another climbed up on a stool.
‘I’m telling
you I have a rash, look.’
Olivia almost laughed out loud at the skinny middle aged guy with the moustache, as he bent over and dropped his pajama pants.
‘See, hives. I’m telling you it’s the toilet paper.’
‘God damn it Dougie,’ the nurse behind Olivia sighed, ‘pull your pants up.’
Olivia stepped out of the way as two of them pulled him down off the stool and yanked up his pajamas.
‘I told you I need Cottonelle,’ he protested as they marched him out of the room. ‘Cottonelle!’
‘I know Dougie,’ the burly nurse replied in exasperation.
Olivia resumed her search of the room and her gaze fell on the tall dark haired guy who had occupied much of her thoughts for the past week. A small smile played on her lips as she watched him.
He sat alone, at a table by one of the windows overlooking the garden. He wore much the same as the other patients, a pale blue cotton robe, blue and white striped pajama pants and a white tee shirt which, instead of hanging off him like many of the other emaciated patients, seemed to cling to his broad chest. His dark chocolate colored hair hung forward, making her fingertips itch to smooth it back from his face. He leaned quietly over what looked like a sketchbook.
Curious as to what he was doing, her feet were moving before she’d had a chance to consciously think about it. Her gaze fell to the table as she approached quietly.
He was painting. A small palette of watercolors lay open in front of him and next to it was a plastic cup half filled with dirty water. He frowned unconsciously as her shadow fell over his work, but he didn’t look up. Pulling out the chair opposite him she sat down and waited, studying his intense expression as he worked.
Suddenly he stopped and looked up, sensing her presence. His dark eyes held hers, as if he wasn’t surprised to find her sitting opposite him. His expression betrayed nothing and she found for the first time ever she couldn’t read what someone was feeling.
Growing up in the foster care system, a troubled kid who’d bounced between group homes, she’d learned to read people quickly. It was a deeply honed survival skill and one she prided herself on. But with him, she couldn’t figure him out and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her curious as hell.
‘Mr Beckett.’
He regarded her for a moment, his liquid gaze focused and intense. It made her feel as if they were the only two people in the room, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a sexy low rasp.
‘I hoped you would come back.’
‘And here I am,’ she replied.
‘Why?’
‘Because, if you want to get out of here, you are going to need my help.’
He looked around the room before coming back to her.
‘There are worse places to be I suppose. Besides this is where they send the mentally impaired, so I’m told.’
‘I don’t think you’re mentally impaired.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Mr Beckett…’ she began.
‘Theo.’
‘Theo,’ she spoke softly, ‘do you want my help or not?’
‘I was told I was supposed to help you,’ his head tilted thoughtfully.
‘Only time will tell on that score,’ she replied. ‘Before this is over we may just end up helping each other.’
Once again he fell silent as he studied her.
‘Theo,’ she interrupted his thoughts, ‘I know the truth.’
His expression held a sudden wariness.
‘Truth?’
‘I know where you are from. But regardless of what you have been told about me, I do not want or need to be saved. However, the fact remains you are in my world now and if you want to survive you are going to need my help.’
‘You accept what I told you about where I’m from?’ he asked curiously. ‘You believe me?’
‘Yes I do.’
‘Why?’
‘Just because,’ she shrugged, ‘but if I help you, there are conditions.’
‘What sort of conditions?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘For one, you have to have an open mind. The world we are in now is very different to the one you were brought up in. There will be things you have to accept that will go against everything you have been taught.’
‘Very well,’ he murmured thoughtfully, ‘an open mind. I think I can agree to that. What else?’
‘Honesty,’ she replied seriously. ‘We have been thrown together for whatever reason and while we figure it out there can be no lies between us. There may be things we don’t want to discuss, but there will be no lies.’
‘Honesty?’
‘Honesty,’ she nodded. ‘Trust will come later.’
‘Agreed,’ his mouth curved in amusement.
She fell silent as they stared, each trying to figure the other out. She hadn’t been idle the past week; she had spent every night reading through Hester’s journal looking for any reference to Theo.
‘There is something I would like to ask you, but you don’t have to answer. It is quite personal.’
‘You may ask,’ he replied curiously.
‘Just before you were brought here, there were two little girls. I believe they were arrested on charges of witchcraft, they wouldn’t have been more than maybe eight or nine years old.’
He remained quiet, watching her with an unfathomable expression.
‘You let them go?’
‘Is that your question?’ he asked after a moment.
‘No,’ she shook her head, ‘it was more of a statement. I know that you let them go, even though it was against the vows you swore as a Witchfinder.’
‘You know that I was a Witchfinder?’ he frowned.
‘Yes, but that’s not important right now,’ she shook her head. ‘What I want to know is why?’
‘Why?’
‘Why did you let them go?’
‘Why does it matter?’ his voice hardened. ‘Why do you care about one insignificant event?’
‘Because I do,’ she replied softly.
Just for a second his expression slipped and she saw the pain he tried so hard to mask.
‘Why did you let them go?’
He held her gaze.
‘Because, I could not murder children in the name of God. No matter what they were accused of, in my heart I knew it was wrong.’
Her whiskey colored eyes suddenly flared gold.
‘Good enough,’ she smiled.
She stood abruptly, but as she brushed past him his hand shot out and grasped her wrist, stilling her movement and forcing her to look at him.
‘Tell me why it matters to you?’
‘Because she was mine.’
‘What?’
‘The youngest girl,’ Olivia told him softly, ‘her name was Hester West. I am directly descended from her. If you hadn’t saved her I would never have been born.’
Caught up in the spell woven around them, without thinking, she reached out and traced the stubble at his jaw lightly with her fingertips.
‘I have her journals,’ she murmured as she absently stroked the little indentation in his chin. ‘She talks about you. She never forgot you or what you did for her and her sister. What you consider an insignificant event shaped so many lives, mine included, and she was forever grateful to you.’
He drew in a sharp breath and looked away, unable to hold her gaze.
‘I’ll go and speak with the doctor about getting you out of here,’ she told him as he dropped his hand, releasing his grip on her wrist.
He turned his head and watched her walk away, helpless to do anything else. The woman tied him in knots there was no doubt about it. His gaze travelled the length of her body. She wore some sort of tight fitting clothing; he thought he had heard someone refer to them as jeans. They were almost indecent, the way they clung to every curve and dip of her body, unlike the long and shapeless smocks and dresses the women of his time had worn.
> He closed his eyes and turned deliberately away from her retreating form, unable to control his physical reaction to her. His insides churned raw as he fought for control. She was nothing like he imagined, the woman he had dreamed about for most of his life. She was beautiful, there was no doubting that and her body, it was soft and curvy and there was no use denying that he wanted his hands on her desperately. But when she had looked into his eyes, her own burning like molten gold, his heart had almost stopped.
Her words churned over and over in his mind. She was directly descended from the child he had saved. He had never thought for one moment that such a small act of kindness could have such consequences. If he hadn’t saved that little girl, Olivia might never have existed.
Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the time pass, until Olivia reappeared with the doctor he’d seen when he was first admitted to Riverside.
The short portly man wore a pinstriped shirt tucked optimistically into a pair of pants that were at least a size too small for his ample frame. His white doctor’s coat was slightly rumpled and the breast pocket bulged with too many pens. He pushed his dark framed glasses up his nose but they just slipped straight back down again, as if the gradient of his nose was too steep to hold them up correctly. Approaching Theo he tossed him a small indulgent smile one might give a slightly slow child.
‘And how are you feeling today Mr Beckett?’
‘Very well doctor, thank you,’ he replied courteously.
‘Your sister here insists your memory is recovering quite nicely and would like to take you home.’
‘My sister…’ he repeated slowly, his gaze flicking over the doctor’s shoulder to Olivia, who threw him a warning glance. ‘Yes, my sister,’ he caught on, ‘I believe my sister is correct. I would prefer to return home.’
‘Excellent,’ he pushed his glasses back up again. ‘Well she has brought your identification with her and everything seems to be in order. I think it will be fairly safe to release you to her care. It’s likely you’ll recover your memories more quickly if you are surrounded by familiar things. If you have any other concerns please feel free to call us.’
‘Thank you doctor, we appreciate it,’ Olivia smiled at him.
The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum Page 17
