“So why the change of heart about doctors?”
Vivian smiled a little. “When I saw you on the stage with Mr. Wolfe...I don’t know. I’ve never felt inhuman or like some mutated freak. But no one else would understand what was going on. I thought you might. Also…”
Vivian remembered climbing to her feet, head pounding, stomach cramping, and watching through blurry eyes as that boy vaulted a car and threw a forcefield over the stage. She’d only meant for him to call the cops, alert a guard maybe. Instead… she shrugged.
“I met a Prime. He did something really brave and used his gift to help people. And I thought, ‘C’mon, V, you can do this. All you have to do is talk.’”
The nurse smiled. “Thank you, Vivian. It took courage to ask for help. I promise you, we’re going to help you with this. And this is your secret to share, so none of it leaves this clinic unless you want to share it.
“Now, I’ll start by ordering an MRI. If you can use your gifts where we can watch for possible seizure-like activity, it’ll help us narrow treatment down and possibly help you understand what you do.
“While we wait on that, I’d like you to start coming to our group therapy sessions. We’ll have a few at different times every week, a place for Primes to share and support one another.” She pulled a card from the pocket of her white coat and Vivian watched her scribble something on the back. She handed the card to Vivian.
“First session is in two days. I hope you’ll be there.”
Vivian took the card, glanced at the date and time, and nodded. “I’ll try.”
“Good. Now, this week I want you to log any episodes. Write down the time, what you were doing, everything you can recall. It may give us a pattern to work with, yes?”
“Oh,” Vivian sighed. “I tried all of that with my first doctor.”
“Just humor me for a couple weeks, okay? Sometimes fresh eyes and a little more empathy are all we need, yes?”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Let’s get you up front and back home.” Nurse Alvarez rose and opened the door, motioning Vivian back toward the front. Vivian rose with her. “You have a good day, okay?”
Vivian gave the woman a smile. “Thanks. You too.” She walked out.
Vivian was halfway to her car before she remembered she hadn’t put the sunglasses back on. She reached in her bag for them, but hesitated. A lightness bounced in her steps. She had been living with fear of the future, of herself, for far too long. It felt good to confront it. She left the sunglasses in the bag.
Vivian climbed into her car, put it in gear, and drove into a future that looked a whole lot brighter.
Mandy Alvarez finished up the chart notes in her office. She looked at Vivian Hale’s file. She circled “Precognizance?” on the page. Once Primes were the subject of study and interest, rather than fear and intimidation, once they were understood, maybe children like Vivian, like David…
Mandy caught that thought, holding it in her mind like a secret diamond. She placed it gently, but firmly back into the velvet shadows shrouding her hope. There would be time for that later. She still had patients to help.
She closed the file, fished a key from her lanyard, and unlocked a particular file cabinet drawer. She placed Vivian’s records in an accordion file next to several others. In the back of the drawer, a tiny red gem winked at her from atop a simple wooden box.
Chapter Sixteen
Hayden could hear voices echoing through the crowded bull room to the suite of small offices he’d been placed in on the side of the building. In the two days he’d worked here, the place had never been quiet. The morning sky was overcast through the large windows in the front wall, threatening cold rain and throwing a pall over the day, but no one at campaign HQ seemed to mind.
He could see them through the blinds on his little office window. Folding tables and chairs filled the single large room, each one packed with volunteers. Supporters on laptops and headsets stocked one table, calling prospective voters, urging them to make time to cast their ballot. One was piled with boxes of yard signs. A pair of coordinators doled out assignments to sign-planting teams. A third group stuffed paper bags with lunches for the elderly, including a little flyer for Wolfe’s campaign in every one. Wolfe’s face looked down from a giant campaign poster on the wall to survey the chaos.
Deckard had been quiet after airlifting him out of the Royal’s club, but Hayden could tell he wasn’t happy about the situation with Wolfe. Hayden knew having someone in official office holding that secret wasn’t without drawbacks, but watching Wolfe interact with his staff and the public had confirmed his decision. His political stance might not be all Hayden would hope for, but it was obvious Wolfe cared about people and was smart enough to do a good job.
Hayden looked up as Bernie opened the office door, then knocked. The balding, stocky man in a Georgia Tech polo smiled at Hayden’s little folding table. Bernard Shaw stood a head taller than Wolfe and towered over Hayden like an ogre, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He held a thin white box in both hands.
“Hey, Hayden, how’re those expense reports coming?” Bernie’s baritone rumbled a bit even when he was smiling.
Some temporary shelves covered the center of the back wall and were lined with binders, each color-coded and labeled in large print on the spines with dates. The back left corner held a combination lock safe, the back right a stand lamp and a small coffee table. A mostly empty coffee pot and a stack of cheap cups and instant creamer covered most of the table’s surface.
The card table Hayden sat at, along with most of the floor on the left side of the room, was covered in boxes. A laptop dock, monitor, and keyboard took up the rest of the makeshift desk. A small shelf by the office door held file folders and various office supplies.
Hayden gestured at the two boxes stacked up in the corner to his right. “I’ve got those two down, five more to go.”
“Hey, fantastic! You have no idea what a help it is just to have someone enter all the receipts for me. Here.” He walked over and opened the box he was carrying to reveal eleven chocolate glazed donuts. “Snagged these before they were all taken. Grab one.”
“Thanks, Mr. Shaw.” Hayden snatched up a donut and took a bite, enjoying the chance to rest his eyes. He would dream in dollars and cents tonight, but it beat fiery death. Plus Marcus Wolfe took that “an army travels on its stomach” aphorism to heart, and there had been a copious amount of snack food available.
Bernie placed the donuts on top of the stacked boxes and slid a folder from under one arm. “Once you finish your snack, I’ve got another project for you. These are some of the receipts related to the Elevation Clinic opening. I need to get those numbers to the clinic director for final review before reimbursement can be issued, which I want out by Friday. Can you get those on my desk by first thing tomorrow?”
Hayden paused, groaning inwardly. He really preferred to finish one thing at a time, but Week One didn’t seem like a good time to alienate the boss. He swallowed pride and a mouthful of sugary bliss and said, “Sure thing, Mr. Shaw. I’ll finish up the third box here and then get on the clinic report.”
“Great!” Bernie beamed. “I’m headed back to my actual job for a couple hours, so if you need anything, just look for Margarette. I’ll see you back here bright and early tomorrow.” He waved and left, closing the door behind himself.
Hayden looked at the mess on the table, and the half-finished spreadsheet blinking on the laptop and decided today was a two-donut kind of day. He stuffed the rest of his snack into his mouth and grabbed another, scooped the clinic data off the table with his clean hand, and leaned down to set it on the floor by the finished boxes.
As he munched, he looked around the cluttered little office. Not the work he pictured himself doing, but it did feel good to pick his own path for a change. And a quiet day or two would not bother him at all.
He licked the last of the glaze off his fingers, wiped his hands off with a napkin from the cof
fee supplies, and went back to scaling the cliffs of Expense Everest.
Vivian followed the last little sign into a physiotherapy room. Racks of small weights, balance pads, and yoga balls lined one wall, alongside various colored exercise bands. Cardio equipment lined the opposite wall, mostly elliptical machines and recumbent bikes. Two low tables that looked a lot like the one at the massage parlor sat in the corner next to them.
Nurse Alvarez and a couple of aids, all in pastel scrubs, put finishing touches on a semicircle of chairs in the center of the room, facing a whiteboard just to Vivian’s left as she looked in. A folding table had been set up under the whiteboard and was nearly buried under gift bags.
Nurse Alvarez saw Vivian enter and smiled. “Hello, dear! Thank you for coming. I’m so glad you did.”
“Thank you, Ms. Alvarez.” Vivian smiled back at the motherly older woman.
“Mandy, please. Ah, let me introduce you, yes? Lauren and Todd McIntyre, my two assistants.” Both aids smiled genially and waved as they set up the last few chairs.
Vivian waved back. “Hi.” She did a quick count. “Twenty-four? You’re expecting that many?”
Mandy chuckled. “Well, I think eight, perhaps ten, but I am hopeful, yes?” She gestured at the chairs, “Please, have a seat, and we’ll go get some coffee and muffins.”
The trio trickled out of the room, leaving Vivian to explore a bit by herself. She circled the chairs, trailing a hand over the back of each one. Twenty-four. If even half that many Primes showed up… Hope rose within her, bringing a nervous excitement that made her heartbeat flutter. Understanding, belonging, freedom from the lies.
What could that many gifts accomplish, working together? Vivian blinked as her eyes welled up and dragged her thoughts out of her daydream.
C’mon, V. Don’t count the chickens. This isn’t a comic book.
She finished her circuit of the chairs and made her way over to the gift bags on the table. It was sweet of Mandy to think of this, on top of everything else.
She opened up the first bag and rummaged through. Clinic flyer, a gift card for a free sandwich at a local deli, a pack of gum, and a...little wooden box?
She touched the box and power gathered behind her eyes. Oh, no. Not now!
The world went white.
Chapter Seventeen
Hayden slapped the lid on the third box and stood, stretching. His eyes burned from staring at a screen all day. Other than Bernie’s donut delivery and Margarette dropping off his office key and new hire forms, it had been him and the numbers in mortal combat. He glanced at the clock. It read 6:33pm.
The sounds outside the office had died down. A handful of team leaders remained, going over schedules and assignments for the next few days. Coordinating the ground game for even a local race was a big job, requiring a thousand moving pieces. All those pieces cost money, one way or another.
Hayden heard his stomach grumble. He hadn’t eaten since the donuts nearly four hours ago. He looked at the folder of clinic expenses and sighed. He picked it up and started thumbing through the faxed pages. It was a jumbled mess.
Rental statement for AV equipment. Waiver for the standard speaking fee for Mr. Wolfe. Donation information, including a highlighted line from Bernie indicating a large single check from Hartford, Ramstein, and Wolfe, the law firm Mr. Wolfe was a partner in. Bernie’s note out to the side said: “Track these separate as well!” Medical supply orders. Security contract. Licensing fees for the city. And...an MRI order?
Hayden blinked and looked again. Sure enough, the last few papers were medical chart notes and a Prior Authorization for an MRI, with the patient name and date of birth clearly visible. Vivian Anna Hale.
Hayden groaned. Some moron had left a patient chart in the fax machine before sending the other papers to Bernie. He glanced at the clock again and stood, grabbing his coat and snatching up the documents. The clinic was two blocks from here. Hopefully someone was still in the office, and he could just drop the documents off to them. He could pick up some supper and bring it back to campaign HQ.
He exited his little office, locked the door, waved to the staff meeting, and headed out into a cool, rainy Atlanta night.
The box opened, and instead of the collection of small, grey, ovoid pills she normally got, a tiny coiled bracelet of gleaming black pearls lay in the center. Hesitantly, she reached out to pick it up and the bracelet moved, slithering. A tripartite mouth lifted free of the box, revealing two mantis-like legs tucked underneath it. The mouth opened and hissed at her through rows of tiny, saw-edged teeth.
She dropped the box in terror as the thing inside leapt for her face.
Vivian staggered back to the present, knocking the bag and its poisonous contents to the floor. She sank to her knees trembling with fear, pulsing with knife-edged pain at her temples. Questions flickered through her mind. What was that thing? Did Mandy know? She glanced at the chairs. Was she...infecting Primes on purpose? Why?
A door slammed shut down the hall. Vivian shook her head. She had to get out. Right now. She looked at the bag, fought down her hyperventilation, and scooped it up with a grimace. She needed proof to take with her. Surely someone would listen. Right?
Vivian wobbled to her feet and headed back to the front door, digging in her little purse for her keys with her free hand.
Mandy and the twins were coming back down the hall, arms loaded with coffee supplies and two baskets of muffins.
“Ms. Hale?” asked Mandy. “Is everything alright?”
“Fine,” Vivian blurted. Her tongue clung to the roof of her dry mouth, and everything was too bright. She forced herself to turn and pretended her hands weren’t shaking. “Just...feeling a migraine coming on.” She gestured to her temple. “I need to head home. I’ll be back for the next one.”
Mandy’s brown furrowed, and she glanced at the bag, then her mouth opened in an “O” of understanding. “Precognition.” She looked at Vivian with something like pity and said. “Stop her.”
Lauren and Todd dropped the party supplies and changed. They grew, adding height and muscle until the formerly loose scrubs they wore pulled tight across broad shoulders and thickened limbs. Their faces changed shape, mouths and noses lengthening and widening into narrow muzzles. Hair sprouted from every visible pore, the boy turning grey-white and the girl red-brown. Their eyes gleamed a flat, ugly yellow.
In seconds, two creatures from a horror movie had replaced the smiling pair. The thing that had been Todd snarled at her and terror gripped Vivian’s legs, propelling her toward the exit at a sprint.
Hayden jogged up the steps to the front door of the clinic, grateful for the little covered stoop. The grand opening banner hung limply in the fine drizzle of cold rain. He’d grabbed an umbrella from his car before heading over, but the cool water had slowly soaked through his shoes.
Hayden shook the umbrella off and leaned it against the brick. The lights were still on inside, and a sign visible on the front desk through the glass doors read “Group Therapy” with an arrow pointing to some interior hall.
Hayden unzipped his jacket and pulled out the patient papers. He’d just slip in, leave them on the desk, and the staff could…
The girl from the coffee shop hurtled into view and slammed the front door open. Sunglasses still covered her eyes, and a brown bag, the kind with waxed paper handles, thumped against her leg with every stride. She saw him and clutched at his arm.
“Help! They’re right behind me!” She screamed.
“Vivian?”
A pair of freaking werewolves charged into view, loping forward on long legs with the easy stride of practiced runners. Snarling lips pulled back from pointed lupine teeth, and malice gleamed in all-too-human eyes.
Hayden shoved Vivian behind him and slammed his shoulder against the door a fraction of a second before the first lycanthrope thrust a clawed hand at the push bar. Hayden planted his feet, heaving, and the door snapped shut. He strained against the taller...thing’s stre
ngth. The smaller werewolf hit the door a second later, and Hayden skidded back an inch, the rain-slick soles of his dress shoes slipping. He gritted his teeth, dug in, and pushed. Growls of frustration spilled through the opening and Hayden slid slowly backward. He had to change the game, and fast.
Vivian raced into view, throwing her back against the door and shoving with her legs. The door snapped shut with a thud. A yip of surprise sounded, and the force from the other side eased. He blinked, but before the werewolves could recover, he placed his right hand against the door and summoned the Axiom.
A bar of golden energy bloomed beneath his palm and shot out diagonally to bury the conical points at both ends in the brick surrounding the door. Vivian started at the crack of sound as the bar planted itself.
Hayden stepped back and pulled her with him. The taller wolf shoved at the newly barred door, which held. He barked something to his smaller companion, and she took off, bounding out of sight.
“Suck it, Wile E.!” Hayden shouted.
The pack leader regarded Hayden for a second, then backed away from the door and nimbly hopped the desk. He leaned down, picked something up from under the desk, and calmly straightened to aim a pistol at Hayden through the glass.
Chapter Eighteen
“Move!” Hayden screamed. He threw the fax sheets aside and tackled Vivian off the porch as gunfire shattered the plate glass door.
Air whuffed out of Hayden as he hit the sidewalk on one shoulder blade, cushioning Vivian from the fall. Skin tore and he was pretty sure that shirt was a goner as well.
He rolled to his feet and pulled Vivian to hers. Her glasses had fallen off, and she trembled. Her little bag had tumbled free, spilling papers across the damp concrete. She scrambled over to it and picked it up, checking to make sure something was still inside. She looked at Hayden, blue eyes wide.
The Last Archon Page 7
