by Mary Lindsey
“What do I do?”
Just watch.
I accessed the memory, careful to recall every detail. I started it as the hearing was dismissed. The first out of the room was Ophelia, one of the elders who commonly sat on discontinuance panels. Then a middle-aged man, who appeared visibly shaken. He tapped Ophelia on the shoulder. “I honestly had no idea she was allowing that,” he said.
Ophelia turned and glared at him. “I’m aware of that. Otherwise, you would be meeting the same fate as your Protector.”
He gave a quick nod and scurried up the stairs at the end of the hall.
Ophelia stared right at me. I put my pen down and folded my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting. “I trust you are learning and taking lessons away from this. Being a Protector is an honor. If Charles ever approves you for duty, don’t abuse the privilege.”
I’d never liked Ophelia and was relieved when she climbed the stairs out of view.
From inside Vivienne’s body, it was easy to feel her anger as the memory played. She didn’t like Ophelia either. “What a condescending hag,” she said.
Wait. It’s not over.
Another Speaker from the board of elders emerged from the room, holding the arm of a weeping woman. My heart ached for her. I stared down at my papers until the couple disappeared from view. A file was slid onto the desk before me. Charles’s gold and ruby ring glinted in the halogen spot from above.
“Please delete her from the system and then destroy this file,” he said. He sounded tired. When I met his eyes, he stared at me for a long time. He took a deep breath. “Being a part of this system is harder every lifetime. It used to be so simple. There are so many variables now. Just . . .” He shook his head. “Just be careful.”
When his footsteps reached the top of the stairs, I stared down at the standard black IC file. When I opened it, my heart stopped. In huge red letters, “Discontinued” was scrawled across the black-and-white photo of the woman who had left before Charles came out. The woman who was weeping. Now I knew why. I turned the page and found the grounds for the hearing: Sharing the body of a human outside of an exorcism.
“Is that it?” Vivienne said.
No.
I focused on a particular memory from the next day. I was sitting at the kitchen counter reading the newspaper. When I turned to the local news page, a picture of the woman I had seen the day before stared back at me. “Local Florist Dies in Car Accident.”
“Oh, my God. They killed her?”
Yes, they did.
Vivienne was quiet for a long time. The only noise was the rumble of the old truck engine. “So, she’ll come back again, though.”
No. Her soul brand was erased. She was discontinued, body and soul.
“But, that’s murder, just like Ethan committed.” Her anger was raging.
No, Vivienne. Protectors are told from the start what’s at stake. We go through intensive training, as opposed to Speakers. We are held to tight scrutiny and accept the rules and punishments assigned by the IC. She knew what could happen when she entered the body of a human.
“Why would she do it?”
Well, in this case, she was floating around the casino card tables and then entering the body of her boyfriend to tell him what the other players were holding. They made a lot of money cheating at cards.
“She had a guy outside of her Speaker?”
Many do. Pairing up with your partner is sort of discouraged, but it happens more than the IC would like. Conversely, it’s a hard lifestyle for the average person to accept. Speaker-Protector pairs spend almost every waking hour together, so outside affairs are usually shallow and limited.
“The blond guy and the brunette girl at your house appear to be together.”
Yes, but it’s recent. Alden and Lenzi went lifetimes as only business partners.
“Whew,” she said. “It’d be hard not to be his partner in every way possible. Just sayin’.”
My jolt of jealousy surprised me. Lenzi’s remarkable as well.
“Remarkable, huh?”
The phone rang. “Unknown” popped up on the screen.
Please answer it this time.
She sighed and pressed answer. “Hello?”
“Vivienne. Where are you?”
She pressed the phone to her chest. “It’s Charles,” she whispered.
I know. I can hear through your ears.
“Oh. Duh. What do I say?”
I’ll coach you from inside. Say only what I tell you to say, okay?
“Okay.”
Tell him where we are. Wait to see why he called. He may not know. This was a false hope. Charles seemed to know everything.
“Hi, Charles. I’m on I-10 on my way back from the resolution.”
“Is Protector 993 in the Vessel?”
She put the phone to her chest. “What the heck does that mean?”
Tell him yes. He knows. Be honest no matter what, or we’re doomed. We were probably doomed anyway. He had used my Protector number rather than my name, which didn’t bode well at all.
“Yeah.”
“Get to Mercy Hospital West immediately. Meet me in the ER. Do not answer any questions or say anything to anybody. Is that clear?”
“Yeah, got it.”
Yeah, got it? She just answered him with “Yeah, got it.” We didn’t stand a chance.
NINE
The drive to the hospital was silent except for my repeated instructions that Vivienne tell only the truth and not contradict me, no matter what I said.
“What’s the old man like when he’s mad?” she asked, pulling into the parking garage outside the ER.
I’ve never seen him mad.
“I bet the top of his little bald head gets red.” She snickered. I found nothing in the conversation funny whatsoever.
The ER seemed unnecessarily bright and harsh. I could see what Vivienne saw and heard through her ears, but I had no sense of smell at all. She headed to the counter, but I urged her to stop. We should just wait. He’ll know we’re here.
“How?” she whispered.
He’ll have a Protector with him who will have felt you arrive.
She moved to the side of the waiting room near a large aquarium full of tiny fish.
“There you are. I must have missed you coming in,” Race said, emerging through the set of stainless-steel double doors between us and the reception desk. “You’re in some fierce trouble, my friends.”
“I’m not your friend,” Vivienne said.
“You’re going to wish I were, sweetheart. It’s hittin’ the fan around here.” He tilted his head. “You in there, Junior?”
Tell him yes.
She nodded.
“Follow me,” he said, heading back to the doors. He nodded at the woman behind the counter, who buzzed them open.
It was the longest walk I’d ever made—well, that I’d ever been a part of. Finally, Race turned into a room at the end of the hallway.
And there I was. My body lay in a bed with an IV and machines all around. It wasn’t hooked up to any of them, but it was scary anyway.
Vivienne scanned the room and found Charles sitting in a pink plastic chair in the corner.
“Put him back,” Charles ordered, gesturing to my body. I was instantly alarmed because his words were accusatory, as if she had taken me out of my body in the first place.
Touch my body, I said.
She looked back at Charles, and I could tell she was going to say something rude.
Remember the memory I showed you? That could be us. Touch my body, and let’s get this over with.
She pressed her palm to my ankle. “Out,” I whispered to my soul. For a moment, I hovered over my body on the bed. I wanted to zip away without entering. To just run away from everything, but it was not feasib
le . . . or right. I had always done what was right. “In,” I commanded my spirit, focusing on my sleeping form on the narrow hospital bed.
My body gasped to life. I took several breaths before I opened my eyes.
Charles remained in the chair in the corner. “Your body was discovered by Mrs. Nelson’s neighbor, who called an ambulance. Your car was towed to a lot downtown. How did you and Vivienne get to the hospital?”
Vivienne took a position near the bed, as if to put herself between Charles and me. “Well, when his car was gone, I decided—”
I cut her off. “I convinced Vivienne to borrow Mrs. Nelson’s car.”
He leaned forward. “I assume you have a good reason why your body was left in an unsecure place unattended, Paul?”
Vivienne took a step even closer. “I—”
Again, I cut her off. “It was my fault entirely. I should have been more careful. I apologize . . . and I apologize to you, Vivienne. I put us both in jeopardy.”
Vivienne opened and closed her mouth several times while I gave her a pointed look. Surely she would pick up on my lead and stay quiet. There was no need for both of us to go down.
Race cleared his throat. “Are you through with me here, sir?”
Charles turned to Race. “Follow Vivienne back and return the car. Then take her to the house.”
Vivienne shuffled foot to foot. “I have somewhere I need to go.”
Charles’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s really important.”
He sighed. “Take her wherever she needs to go, then deliver her to the house, please, Horace.”
Race nodded and strode out the door. Vivienne cast me a look before following. A blast of worry washed over me. Was her concern for herself or me? I wondered.
Long moments passed with no sound except the gentle, high-pitched beeping from one of the machines.
“I’m really sorry, sir,” I said.
He nodded. “I know.” He reached over and pushed a red button on the wall.
After a few moments, a nurse entered. “Well, hello there! Your father said you’d wake up soon.”
My father?
I tried to smile. “I’m fine. Can I go now?”
She pulled a blood pressure cuff off the wall and wrapped it around my arm. “No. Not until the doctor discharges you, which won’t be until tomorrow morning at the earliest. They are going to transfer you to a regular room for observation.” She puffed the cuff up on my arm and put a stethoscope in her ears. She smiled and made an entry on the computer on her cart. “Any pain, dizziness, nausea?”
“No. I’m fine.”
Charles shifted to the front of his chair. “I told you he’s done this before. I gave the doctor his neurologist’s number. She can chat with him on Monday, but I’d like to take him home.”
“I’ll call the doctor and get back to you, okay?” she said sweetly. It was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere without a scene, and there was no way Charles would make a scene. I settled in and pulled the sheet higher over the hospital gown.
After she left, Charles stood and paced the room. “You’ve put me in an awkward situation.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I made a huge mistake.”
“You certainly did. You’ve forced me to step outside my job as regional director for a personal role.” He stopped pacing and met my eyes directly. “It won’t happen again. Do you understand?”
My heart thumped so hard in my chest, I was sure the sheet was moving with it. “Yes, sir.”
“The IC has many reasons for avoiding hospitals, records being one of them. I’ll have one of the IC doctors make up a story to cover for your temporary coma.” He scrubbed a hand over his bald head. “I had to answer lots of questions about your scars.”
I fiddled with the rough sheet. Charles and I had never touched on this subject before.
He leaned closer from his chair. “I didn’t know how extensive they were. Your file from Wilkingham didn’t mention it in detail. You should have told me.”
Still unable to meet his eyes, I folded the top of the sheet over in a neat pleat. “Some things don’t warrant discussion.”
“Fair enough.” He stood and collected his jacket from the chair. “The doctor will most certainly ask you about them. I suggest you relay that you have no recollection of how they happened.”
“I don’t.”
He paused in folding his jacket over his arm. A blast of concern emanated from him, which surprised me, since he was so good about keeping his guard up and not letting his feelings transmit. As quickly as the emotions came, he masked them. “None at all?”
“I only remember the last one. The others . . . ?” I shrugged. “Nothing.”
He reached out as if he were going to place his hand on my shoulder, but stopped just short of touching me. Silently, he studied me for a moment, then headed for the door. “Please don’t put me in a position like this again.”
He paused in the doorway but didn’t turn to face me. “Race will come get you in the morning. Your things are in the closet.”
And with that, he exited the room, leaving me in absolute chaos—completely alone to battle not only my current mistakes, but the demons of my past as well.
TEN
21st-Century Cycle, Journal Entry 3:
Our assignment as a team was a great success. The newly turned Malevolent was resolved in a routine manner with no injury, incident, or issue.
Paul Blackwell—Protector 993
I’ve been sent to bust you out of here, sleeping beauty. Look alive!” Race’s voice startled me awake with a jolt. My knees slammed into the metal rolling tray pulled over my hospital bed, nearly launching the Styrofoam plate of cold scrambled eggs into my lap. He ran a hand over his hair and chuckled. “The doc called Charles and said your discharge should happen this morning.”
I rolled the tray away. “The doctor was here about two hours ago.”
“And?”
I rubbed the back of my neck to alleviate what felt like a sunburn. “I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t transfer me to the psych floor. She thinks I’m nuts.”
“You’re not?”
My situation surely was. “How’s Vivienne?”
He laughed and flopped into the vinyl recliner in the corner. I’d been moved from the ER to this room sometime in the middle of the night for observation.
“Vivienne’s fine. Really fine, if you know what I mean.”
I ignored his clumsy innuendo and pushed a button that put the top of my bed upright. “Where did she have to go after she left here?”
He popped the footstool up, which caused the whole chair to tilt back in a rapid jerk. “Whoa! It’s like a mechanical bull! Yippeekaiyay!” He swung his arm over his head as if balancing on a bucking bull.
I sat up straight. “Where’d she go?”
“She had me drop her off at some row houses in the ward.”
“Why?” The sunburn feeling on my neck was really bugging me. I hadn’t been in the sun recently, though. I placed my hand over it, and it felt hot to the touch.
He shrugged. “Honestly, Junior, I didn’t ask. Seemed like something I didn’t want to know, if you know what I mean. It was a sketchy place.”
“Why would she go there?” I hadn’t realized I’d asked it out loud until he answered me.
“By the way she dresses and acts, the possibilities are endless.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Watch it.”
“Or what, Junior? You gonna hop out of that bed in your little cotton gown and kick my ass?” He pushed on the wooden handle on the side of the recliner, but nothing happened. He struggled with it again and then laughed. “You’d have to give me a head start, though, because this thing has me trapped.” Then he really laughed. “That’d be awesome, you with a bare butt and me with mine stuck in this chair. All we
’d need is a cute nurse, and it would be a YouTube sensation.”
I sat back and sighed. What was Vivienne doing in the ward at night in a row house? “Can we just leave?” I asked.
“Nah. The big guy told me not to make a fuss. I’ll go check with the nurses’ station, though. Might find a cutie while I’m there.” He yanked the handle and shoved his booted feet hard on the footrest, and the footstool finally slipped down into place at the front of the chair, bringing it upright with a slam. “Free at last!” he said, standing.
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“Who, the cute nurse?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. Vivienne.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? Cinda was taking her to some meeting in Galveston when I dropped by to talk to Charles this morning. He wouldn’t discuss this over the phone. Guess he’s covering your ass this time, huh?”
“What kind of meeting?” I pushed on the bed rail, but it wouldn’t come down. “What meeting did Cinda take her to?” I was getting frantic. Were they questioning her about last night? Charles had seemed accusatory when he spoke to her. He may have been covering for me, but letting her take the hit for breaking the rules—I couldn’t let that happen. “You’ve gotta get me to Galveston. I have to stop it.”
“Stop what?”
I scooted to the end of the bed and threw my legs over the edge. “Stop the hearing.”
“Nobody said anything about a hearing.”
“But—”
“Calm down, Junior. Nobody’s going to get discontinued. Not today, anyway.” He looked me up and down. “Might want to put on some clothes.” Then he left.
She was in a meeting at headquarters in Galveston, but it wasn’t a hearing. My mind tried to run through the possibilities, but came up blank.
I pulled my clothes out of the closet and changed in the bathroom. I didn’t even have her phone number, I realized. I took a deep breath. I needed to get my act together and start operating on logic. I ran some cold water over my hand and put it over my burning neck.
“Hey, you’re good to go,” Race said, waving a pink paper over his head. “Ready to get out of here?”
