"Were they engaged?" I asked.
"She was wearing a ring, but Ed stated they weren't getting married. No one else knows anything about an engagement either," Ethan said.
Logan looked over my shoulder at the photo. "I think I've seen all I need to. Cassie?"
"I want to take a few pictures in here, but otherwise, I'm done." I snapped a few photos of the books and the pictures and followed Ethan and Logan out of the apartment.
Once outside in the cool spring day, it felt like I could breathe easier. "Thank you for showing us around. I think the only thing left for us is a visit to the morgue to see the victim."
Logan didn't miss a beat. It wasn't a part or our plan, but you'd never know that from his reaction.
Ethan looked tense again. "Your office didn't mention that part. I can call the hospital to let them know you're on the way." He looked like he wanted to say more.
"Yeah," Logan said, "we'll be out of your way after that. At least until Terry surfaces. We'd appreciate a heads up if he does."
"You're following the drugs, like the DEA." Ethan's strained look dropped away. "We've given the DEA some office space while they're working here."
"I'm surprised they don't have a substation nearby," I said.
"I think we've been too small of a town until the past few years," Ethan said, "I'm sure it's crossing their minds, though. I have to get back to the station, but I'll make a call to the morgue on my way."
With a polite nod, Ethan left. Wistfully, I had hoped for a better goodbye, but we were on the job and Logan and I needed to get to the morgue.
Chapter 12
The room looked and felt the same, stark white and shiny metal with a clean smell. The staff was different this time, though.
"Howdy," Logan said as he strode into the room, "thank you for the help."
The man didn't get up from a desk in the corner of the room. "It's no trouble."
Logan smiled, which appeared to make the room brighter. "That's good of you. Could we ask you to wrangle up what this woman had on when she came in?"
"Sure thing." The man appeared unconcerned and uninterested in our presence, but he had caught Logan's smile. After tapping a few buttons on his computer, he left the room.
The victim was on a table in the chilled room. The small, tight ball of emotion from the apartment was fresh in my mind, so I only took a cursory look at the body, which was more than enough to roll my stomach. Moving away, I let Logan have more room while I waited at the desk.
Logan, letting melancholy slip into his features, inspected the victim more closely. When the elf moved from happy to this, the room around him appeared to dim. There were times when I was with my partner that I could almost believe there was real elven magic.
I wasn't sure what Logan was looking for as he examined the woman, but I didn't want to ask either. I was too afraid he'd show me, and I didn't want to spend more time here than necessary.
Still smiling, the helpful man returned and sat a box on his desk. "The clothes are in the large bags."
Watching Logan, he covered the woman back up but stayed next to her.
"She didn't have much on her. Here, these are the two smaller bags," the man said.
I held out my hand but kept an eye on my partner. It was almost as if he flipped a switch. The sadness washed away and he looked normal again.
The man dropped a plastic bag in my hand, and I turned my attention back to the items the woman had.
A small shock of energy flexed and jumped straight into me. My eyes widened as I looked down into two plastic bags in my hand. The smallest of them held the same ring that the woman had been wearing in the picture. My hand jerked back in delayed reaction and the evidence clattered to the desk.
"Shit. Sorry." I didn't immediately recognize that I had spoken out loud.
"It's no problem," the man said picking up the dropped items.
The sorry had been a more general sorry, one to me and to my partner for my stupidity. The buzz like a flow of electricity raced through me.
"You've been a great help," Logan said, keeping his voice jovial. "Will pictures of these materials and a copy of the autopsy report be added to the police file today?"
Assuming the energy would try to settle in the same way as the last, I put up all the barriers I could. The trouble was that living beings are more fluid than our physical bodies would leave us to assume. Plus, this bolted through me much faster than the last.
"It might be tomorrow for the preliminary autopsy, but some of the photos may be available later today.
"Thanks again," Logan said.
With my concentration locked inside myself, I barely noticed the glances in our direction when Logan led me out of the hospital with haste.
The force spread up from my core and wrapped itself around me, much like the previous energy had, but there was a difference in the feel.
"How are you holding up?" Logan asked once we were outside.
"I—" The shift of energy was throwing me off. "I think it's okay."
"There's nothing there?" Logan asked.
"It's there, but... I don't feel angry or ready to lash out. I'm working hard to keep it away, though."
Logan hesitated at the truck. "It's not the same as the last?"
"Yes and no," I said, "I'm not sure what it is. Stick me in the back?"
"No, up front."
My concentration was too fierce to put up an argument.
Logan drove as fast as he dared. He was practically vibrating with his need to go faster. He made a call, but I didn't pay attention to who he contacted. Every defense I set up was beginning to fall apart. The energy slipped over, around, and through every obstacle I put in its way. It was like trying to hold the wind.
"I feel—" once again, I was struggling to put the feeling into words. "I feel anxious sitting still."
"Anxious, not angry," Logan said.
My leg bounced and my hands felt jittery. "I need to move around." It was as if someone poured a hundred cups of coffee into me, all at once.
"We're almost to your house."
As soon as the truck stopped, I jumped out and paced. Logan ran around the truck and ushered me into the house where Jonathan met us at the door with a tranq gun in hand. He looked ready to dart me but showed restraint.
"I'm not sure what this is." I began to wear a path into the floor by quickly pacing the room.
"What's happening?" Jonathan asked.
Words flung themselves out of my mouth faster than I could account for. Jonathan got a quick rundown of the jewelry circulating, with shards of essence. The need to be active, and to do more than pace, was strong. I made my way into the kitchen and scrubbed down counters and appliances as I talked.
"Maybe we should call the doctor?" Jonathan asked when I stopped to draw breath.
"I feel great. Fantastic really. Oh, maybe we could go out for a run. Wait, you two don't run. I should call Rider over to go for a run with me." I grabbed the phone only to have it yanked from my hands.
"I'll call Rider. Jonathan, keep an eye on her." Logan stalked out of the room.
"Do you run?" I asked.
"No," Jonathan said.
"Cookies!" I didn't even cringe at the delighted squeal that came out of my mouth. "You all need cookies."
Jonathan and Logan sat uneasily and watched me mix and bake cookies. Waiting for them to bake was driving me nuts, so I cleaned everything in the kitchen that I missed when I cleaned it the first time. The floors were being erratically scrubbed when Rider arrived.
"Is she okay?" Rider asked.
"I'm great." Great was an understatement. "Let's go out!"
Moving felt wonderful, and each time I finished something and bounced to the next thing, a little thrill went through me. There was so much to be done and so much I wanted to do. There had to be something bigger, though.
"Can you tell a difference in her?" Logan asked.
Rider picked me up and sat me on my feet.
Logan followed me into the living room. "Rider needs to take a look at you."
Logan looked worried, so I relented and turned to Rider. He looked me over carefully, but standing without moving caused me to fidget. I needed to move.
"Your heart is racing," Rider studied my face, “and your eyes look strange. What happened?" He gently took my bruised wrist and held it close for inspection. "Her smell is off again."
"I thought it might be," Logan said.
"My smell is off?" Standing still was almost painful, so I took my arm away and began to inspect every item in the room.
Rider followed me, as though trying to look me over. "You really should sit."
"Can't," I replied. "If I don't move, it's bad."
"Maybe we should use the tranquilizer," Logan said.
"No way." This felt great and I wanted to keep it.
"Do we know anything that acts this way?" Jonathan asked.
"Not that I can think of," Logan said.
While I was rearranging some of the smaller items in the living room, my world slowed. I could feel the newly held power retreating.
"We need to keep these things away from her," Rider said.
Normally that kind of statement would have aggravated me to no end, but I was too content to be disturbed. "That 'her' is in the room." I said it out of habit more than anything else. "It's not like I took it on purpose. Besides, we don't know what they are. It could be stored energy, stolen away."
"I don't think so," Logan said. "Seeing this makes me revisit our original idea. This isn't only energy. I think you’re pulling in a part of someone. Part of them that has broken off and stored away."
"Did Hank find anything on a missing minotaur?" I asked.
Logan shook his head. "Nothing came up in the area."
The jittery feeling faded, and a part of me wanted that high back. As I slowed down even more, I began to realize what that meant.
"It's a drug." This time, I cringed at the excited little squeak that broke through.
Logan and Rider looked at me expectantly.
Once I felt confident my voice was under my control, I continued. "It leaks out and affects a person. Someone wears it and gets a little dose of what's inside."
"But when you touch it, you get the whole thing," Logan said, catching on.
"Right," I said, "maybe it has to do with my gifts. It jumps into me."
"All the more reason to keep you away from it," Jonathan said.
"Maybe," I said, "but now that we have a better idea of what's going on, I have a chance of controlling it."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Control it?"
"Well, more like block it. I don't go around grabbing energy or essence out of everything I touch. Now that we know what to expect, I can try to come up with a way to block it. Maybe I can make its Path not enter my own."
"That might be possible," Logan conceded, "but we can't assume that yet."
"This could be the drug that the DEA is looking for." I yawned and didn't want to be standing anymore, so I sank into a seat. The more I felt like myself, the more tired and achy I became.
"She is returning to normal," Rider said.
"That's for sure." The almost overwhelming euphoric emotions died away with the rush I had experienced.
"Thanks for the help, son. You can take off. Put that tranquilizer gun back where you found it."
"Sure thing, Dad." Jonathan got up, he hesitated for a minute, but his dad motioned towards the door and he left.
"Is it gone?" Logan asked.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to expel some of the ache that was taking up residence in my joints. "I'm feeling normal. Tired and sore, but I feel like myself."
"That doesn't answer the question," Logan said. "Is the first one there?"
You can't keep things from your partner. The office and your boss? That was no problem. Logan and Rider deserved the truth.
"It's not like it's front and center. With the first one at least, I barely notice anything. The second will probably be the same. It's already settling in."
Rider radiated concern. "It did not go away? Can you make it leave?"
"I can try," I said, "but it's difficult to pinpoint. At first, the whole thing feels alien. I can tell it doesn't belong. Once the general effects are over, I don't really notice it anymore."
Logan and Rider didn't say anything, but they didn't look too happy either.
"Look," I said, "it's not like I'm hurt. It'll probably fade further away as time goes on."
"Could be," Logan said, "but keep your guard up. Meditation might help. Rider had a good suggestion, force it out if you can."
"I'll do my best." I yawned and stretched. My muscles felt like I had run miles.
Logan stood. "Get some rest. I'll be by in the morning to pick you up."
"Take some cookies with you. Rider, you too." It felt like I sank further into my chair.
Rider looked confused. "You will be okay on your own?"
"Sure, and Gran will be home in a while, and I might have company later tonight." As though to prove a point, I got up and went to the kitchen to divide out cookies.
Rider took a few and left looking reluctant.
Logan went out the back door. I could hear him chirp to Cici who responded by twittering back. The language of the fairies was not one that I was privy to. Not that they would talk to me anymore anyway.
When Gran came home, we talked before making dinner together. After that, she busied herself with a few chores before she went to bed. I was determined to stay up, at least for a while, despite my fatigue.
My computer called to me as a distraction. Pulling up my email, I discovered that Quin had been in contact the night before. Opening the letter, I felt bad getting it so late.
Dear Anala,
It was good to hear about your experiences with the shadows in the Path. It set my mind at ease. It has cropped up from time to time over the years, so I'm glad I don't have to worry on it any longer. I've never been moved into the future of the Path for more than a minute or two. I spend my time looking through the past. Have you wandered into the Path when a monument has been built? I spent hours the other day, watching one under construction. It was beautiful.
Your question about the blank spot in the Path has me intrigued. I don't know of anything that could leave such spots on the Path. I've never seen an area where the Path didn't flow. It makes me step back and wonder what type of person could cause the Path to disappear when they walked through? Whatever is causing it, I think you should leave it alone. I'll let you know if I find anything similar.
Sincerely,
Quin
I read the letter twice before closing the laptop. Having another Reader to turn to was a treasure, but I do have to keep on my toes. Reading the Path had altered for me in the past year. I'm stronger, but I also have less control. On top of that, too much of my work was confidential.
Chapter 13
It was ten thirty when Ethan texted. Not too late in the scheme of things. I replied, giving my address and letting him know that I would be up for a while longer if he wanted to stop by.
Before I had time to get nervous, he was at my door.
Despite the long day, it felt good having Ethan here. "Hi, come on in."
"I feel pretty lucky you were up," Ethan said, as I led him into the kitchen.
"I'm glad you came over." Once I grabbed some drinks and a plate of cookies for us, we sat at the table.
Ethan looked tired, but like me, he looked pleased with where he was. "You have a nice place."
"Thanks."
"Are we going to bother your grandmother?"
I grinned. "Not at all, Gran's used to me having people over late."
"She is, is she?"
"For work." Embarrassm
ent was written in red across my cheeks. "I meant that Logan and Rider sometimes stay late to work on a case."
"And what would she think of someone not work related stopping by?"
"'Good for you.' I'm pretty sure that's exactly what she'd think." She probably would have added, 'it's about time,' 'good luck' or possibly even 'go for it,' but I wasn't going to throw that out there.
Ethan chuckled. "I look forward to meeting her." He was close enough that it was easy for him to take my hand. "I probably shouldn't stay long, tomorrow is bound to be another long day."
His hand was warm and it felt good entwined with mine.
"I'll bet," I said. "Still, it was good of you to stop by, even for a while."
"With our jobs coming together yesterday, I was worried."
"What about?" I almost held my breath, hoping I hadn't made a total fool of myself leaving.
"Well, you were upset. Logan said the shrink bothered you, but I thought I may have done, or said something." Ethan looked down, embarrassed.
"Sorry to make you feel that way. We shouldn't have to work together much, so it'll take us a while to get used to it."
Ethan frowned. "What happened?"
"With the psychiatrist?" I twisted in my seat, unsure about telling him.
"No." He held my hand and then slid up the edges of my shirtsleeve.
"Oh yeah."
"May I?" Ethan asked with his hands over the buttons on my sleeve.
"Um, yeah. I guess."
He carefully unbuttoned the shirtsleeve and rolled it up. He traced the edges of a bruise with his finger, which made me shiver. When he didn't say anything, I bit my lip, and then reached to push down the sleeve.
Why did I say that was okay? "It looks worse than it feels."
His brow furrowed, and when I had the sleeve back down, he took the other hand and peeked around the edges.
I sighed and took one of his hands in both of mine. "Work hazard. It's no big deal."
Ethan looked pale. "That may be harder for me to adjust to."
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