by Dara Girard
Michelle frowned. Having to face that truth would be hard to swallow but she had too many people depending on her to let pride stand in the way. At least she’d be able to keep this from her sisters. Both were safely out of the family house and happily married now. They would never know what she was facing. Michelle glanced at a picture of her fourteen-year-old niece, Syrah, holding her new baby brother, Alex, who had his father’s features and his mother’s temper. Michelle smiled at the thought of Kenneth and Jasmine’s new addition. He would keep their hands full. In time she would welcome news from Sean and Teresa but they were still settling into their new life together and were busy enough.
Michelle straightened an old picture of her parents on holiday in Vancouver that she kept on her desk. A small smile touched her lips. “Mum, Dad, you’d be proud. I kept them safe.”
And who is to keep you safe? A cruel little voice in her head said.
“Nobody,” she softly shot back, briefly glancing at the notice again, anger and a bit of sadness threatening to fill her eyes with tears. She blinked and took a deep breath. Such silly, foolish emotions. Staring at her parents’ smiling faces was always a weakness. Maybe she should move the picture somewhere else. Michelle stood and placed the picture on her bookshelf, moving a crystal award for excellence in business aside to make space.
She didn’t need anyone. She was strong, resilient. James had taught her that. He’d also taught her that one could survive a broken heart.
She knew her sisters worried about her being alone in their family house, but she never felt lonely. People didn’t understand that solitude could be a gift. Especially for someone like her.
Keeping secrets wasn’t exhausting. It helped make her feel alive. Few things did anymore. She thought of James and the last secret he shared with her before he left her. She saw his face and remembered how much she loved him. How long she’d waited for him to come back to her, hoping for a second chance. How foolish she’d been. Her stomach twisted and her face suddenly felt hot; tears choked her throat. She had to get a hold of herself, but the strange feeling didn’t leave her. She gagged and covered her mouth before rushing into the restroom afraid she might be sick.
Don’t think of him. Never think of him. With trembling fingers she turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, gulping in air hoping to settle her stomach. She would be fine. She was a warrior. She could handle this. You’re better than them. Stronger than them. You can fight this. Michelle nodded at her reflection feeling better and turned to the door.
A man stood there.
A man of average height wearing a tailor made brown suit with thinning dark hair and green eyes of rage. Before she could react he grabbed her by the throat, shoving her up against the cold gray bathroom wall. She closed her eyes. Not because she was afraid, but so that she could think. Composure would be her weapon. She swallowed when she felt the cold, sharp edge of a blade pressed against her cheek but she didn’t open her eyes.
“I hate you,” her attacker said, spit landing on her face as he spoke. “I hate everything about you. You cost me everything. I believed you. I believed all this. Fifteen years later what do I have to show? A broken marriage, kids who won’t talk to me and a failed business. You messed with my head. I can’t prove it but I know it. I won’t let you do it anymore. You have to be stopped.”
“Yes,” Michelle responded in a quiet voice. She wouldn’t panic. She would not provoke him. She would show no pain. She hadn’t even been in business for fifteen years. It had only been six, but he needed someone to blame and she was his target. He was touching her so she would use that to her advantage. She could feel the anger raging within him. She covered his hand, the one he had around her throat, not to stop him, but to find a way to control him. He’d only been a client for less than a year. She remembered his hunger for help, it was too late that she recognized it as desperation. He’d owned a failed franchise, developed a candy nobody wanted and now owned a home goods store bleeding red every month. But he wouldn’t listen to her suggestions, argued with experts and refused to change. She had told him a week ago that neither she nor her team could help him any longer.
She quickly searched her mind for his name. His first name started with an ‘R’ and ended with a ‘y’. Ray? No. Roy. Her mind seized the name with satisfaction. Roy Lewis, forty-five, bright but arrogant. She’d initially felt sorry for him, but she’d learned that the most pathetic clients could be the most dangerous. It didn’t surprise her that he would blame her for his failings. He couldn’t face that the problem was him.
“I’m very powerful,” she said, acknowledging his accusation. She opened her eyes but kept them lowered and focused on his jacket. Staring directly at him would be perceived as a threat. She knew the power of her gaze. “You were always so bright, Roy. You’re one of the few people who notice it. I try to hide it well, but I should have known I couldn’t fool you.”
“Damn straight.”
Michelle lifted her gaze to his chin. “Right now you’re feeling very angry, upset, frustrated. Worried.”
He shook his head and frowned. “Worried?”
“Worried that you’re making things worse, that there’s no turning back. But you’re wrong. You can end this now. No, I won’t press charges,” she said keeping her voice soft, making sure to fill his mind with only what she wanted him to believe. “You snuck into my office without anyone seeing you and no one else saw the knife except me, how clever of you, so we can pretend nothing happened. It would be my word against yours and why would I want to say anything? Why would I want to announce that I’d failed one of my clients?” He hesitated and she knew she had him. “You’re going to hand the knife to me.”
“I am?”
Michelle nodded and held out her free hand. “You were going to anyway. You only wanted to scare me. You did a good job.”
Roy handed her the knife as if in a dream state. Michelle held the knife in her hand and finally met his gaze. She saw his eyes widen with fear. He started to release his hold around her neck, but she stopped him with her hand still around his wrist.
“No,” Michelle said in the same soft soothing voice. “I won’t use it. But it is tempting. What would happen if…I did attack you and say that you attacked me first? How did you get in here? Did you avoid all the cameras? Are you sure you were that clever?”
His eyes widened further and he tried to pull his hand from her grasp. “Wha…what are you?”
Michelle tightened her grip, holding his gaze. “You’re not afraid of me. You’re afraid of what you already know. What you don’t want to face. You never wanted her anyway. Your wife was such a nag. You told me that. You told me that you married her because your mother wanted you to. That you’ve always done what your mother wants and you’re tired of it. You love your kids but the life you have now isn’t yours and you want to make your own life. You never wanted any of this. If your wife hadn’t forced you to try to be like her brother you would have stayed small with your store but you were forced to expand too quickly. Now it feels like it’s all too late, but it’s not. You can still succeed. I can help you do that. Or you can leave it all behind and start fresh. Wouldn’t you like that? To get away from all of this?”
He nodded suddenly wordless, his gaze never leaving her face.
“Then go,” she said, sensing that his anger was gone. They were both safe now. “You’re free.”
“Free?” he echoed.
She nodded.
He blinked, ran a hand through his hair causing a few strands to stick up. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Michelle shrugged. “It happens to the best of us. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” Roy said then he walked away in a semi-daze.
Michelle struggled to keep herself from sinking to the floor. Controlling him had used up more strength than she’d expected. But she’d avoided a crisis and she knew he wouldn’t be back. It would all seem like a dream to him. Michelle pushed herse
lf from the wall, straightened her shoulders and left the restroom. She put the knife in the desk drawer and closed it with satisfaction.
That’s when she noticed her right hand. Something was wrong with the ring on her finger. The emerald stone was missing. Her hand trembled as she stared at the empty setting. The sight of its absence filling her with fear greater than Roy’s rage. How could she have lost it? Roy had struck her hard, but had it been hard enough to dislodge and break it? An emerald wasn’t the strongest of stones but it had lasted nearly ten years.
I need you, a faint deep voice whispered in her mind. Michelle brushed the words from her thoughts. They didn’t mean anything and she had to focus. She couldn’t become fanciful and make them mean more than they were.
The stone. The stone. She had to find the stone.
Where could she have lost it? She hurried back into the restroom and fell on her knees, her hand sweeping along the cold, hard tiles; her gaze frantically searching for the glimmer of green. She could lose anything—the office space, her home, even her business, but not this. She needed this. Please. Please. Please.
Before she could despair of ever finding it, Michelle saw the small emerald tucked under the basin.
I need you, the faint voice whispered again. His voice.
Michelle seized the emerald in her fist. If only that were true. If only James needed her. But she knew it was her imagination overreacting to a stressful event. James would never need her. She took a deep breath and opened her palm and looked at the octagon cut shape. She stared into its deep vivid hue which was not too dark or too light. It had no brown or blue undertones but a pure deep green and, to her dismay, she noticed a slight crack on the edge. That did not bode well for her. The emerald was not only a stone of romance or seeker of love and revealer of truth. It was also a stone of wisdom. A stone that had brought James into her life but hadn’t helped her keep him. Was this the sign that she’d truly lost him forever? Was it something that she needed to face?
Michelle walked to her desk, pulled off the ring on her finger and set it down as shadows filtered through the large window suddenly dimming the once bright light in the room. She didn’t expect that the sight of the sun disappearing behind grey clouds would shake her and when she carefully placed the emerald next to the empty ring setting, she didn’t expect to cry.
Chapter 2
And the creature with its beady red eyes and long, sharp talons swooped down and came for her…
“Sweets, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
Teresa opened her eyes and looked around the dark bedroom in a daze. A sliver of moonlight seeming to dance across the floor before her; the air feeling chilled although the bed sheets felt heavy. “What?”
Sean touched her sweat soaked cheek. “Shh…you’re okay.”
She heard his words but her heart wouldn’t stop racing. “What happened?”
He turned on the lights causing them both to squint against the hard glare, but when he spoke his voice was soft, soothing. “It was only a dream.”
Teresa soon felt her heartbeat slowing as a gentle calm filled her. She looked at her husband and sighed with regret. “Did I wake you?”
He blinked, his hazel gaze intense. “No.”
She couldn’t stop a smile. “Liar.”
He smiled in return, making all her past fears disappear. His rare smiles always had that affect on her. “Are you okay now?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
“What happened?”
Teresa sat up and wiped the back of her hand against her forehead, her heart picking up pace again as she thought of her dream. No, it wasn’t quite a dream and it wasn’t a nightmare. It was something more sinister—a warning. “It was awful. I saw something dark coming. A bird with wide, dark wings and beady red eyes. I don’t know what it is though but it swooped down and got her.” She shivered at the thought.
Sean lay on his side, resting his head on his hand, his springy dark curls plastered on one side, and stared up at her. “Got who? One of the patients?” he asked, refering to the community clinic where he volunteered. As a former surgeon he knew few people in their struggling county could afford him and he was wealthy enough to be able to donate his time. Also, unlike some, he took his wife’s visions seriously. “Us?”
Teresa shook her head. “No, Michelle.”
He paused for a moment letting her words sink in. That surprised him. Teresa had never been worried about her older sister, Michelle, before. “Are you scared because she’s alone at the house? The neighborhood seems safe enough and there are plenty of women living alone nowadays, but I could go by and check on her.”
“It’s not that.” Teresa shook her head in frustration, wishing she had the words. “It’s something else, but I don’t know what it is. I’ve never really worried about her before.” And the thought of the wicked dark bird loomed again in her mind, causing her throat to close in fear. Michelle was in danger. But from what? Whom? Why?
Sean touched Teresa’s cheek again and she felt her fears seeping away. It still amazed her how quickly he could do that, but he had the special touch of a healer and handler, one able to touch anything without fear of breaking it, so there was magic in his fingers. She gently pushed his hand aside. “Stop that.”
He feigned a look of innocence. “What?”
“I don’t need to feel better and I don’t want to be comforted anymore. I have to be sharp. I have to be a little afraid if I want to help her.” She had to understand what she’d seen. It didn’t make sense. She’d never truly felt that Michelle was in trouble before, not by anything dark. Was it loneliness? Heartache? Her sister kept so much to herself. Teresa never could tell what Michelle was thinking. Perhaps if she spoke to her friend Bertha, she could help her interpret the vision.
Sean sat up and gathered her in his arms. “Go back to sleep, we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“I don’t think I can sleep.”
“You can,” he whispered.
Teresa yawned and blinked, her eyelids feeling heavy as a slow drowsy feeling came over her. Before she completely surrendered, she realized what he was doing and pushed him away. “I said cut that out.”
Sean released her and buried his face in his pillow. He moaned and mumbled something.
Teresa nudged him with her leg. “What?”
He turned to her. “I’m tired and I have a full day tomorrow. And I won’t sleep if you don’t sleep.”
She pushed the covers away. “It’s okay. I’ll go to the other room.”
He sighed and grabbed her wrist. “No, I’m listening.”
Teresa opened her mouth then bit her lip. He looked exhausted and there wasn’t much more she could do tonight. The warning would come again if it was important. She pulled the sheets back up and slid down next to him. “Go to sleep.”
“Are you okay now?”
“Yes,” she said knowing only half of it was a lie.
Chapter 3
Michelle sat with impatience inside the hushed elegant interior of Fedor Malenkov Jewelers. It was the last place she wanted to be, but she had to fix her ring. She sent a look at her cousin BJ wondering why it was taking him so long to study her ring as he sat behind his ergonomically correct workbench, which he’d said had almost eliminated the discomfort of days hunched over his work. Clearly the new bench had given him more patience than she had. The stone needed to be fixed and then reset. What more was there?
But BJ was a man of few words and slow movement. Michelle glanced at the heavy canvas apron he wore over a dark shirt and trousers. He had beautifully sculpted ebony features that were wasted on a man who rarely smiled and preferred the company of gems, antique pins and pendants to people. She’d managed to make a discreet appointment with him after hours so that her sister Jessie wouldn’t find out since she also sometimes worked at the shop. Michelle knew if BJ had questions about her broken ring, Jessie would have even more.
“Do you think you can fix it?” Michelle finally ask
ed, no longer able to bear his silence.
He set his loupe down and sent her a brief look of reproach. “Of course I can. I’m trying to figure out what happened.”
“It was an accident.”
He fell silent again then said, “This may not have happened if you’d allowed me to do a cleaning and inspection twice a year. It helps prevent damage that can occur from normal wear and tear.”
“I don’t need a lecture right now.”
“But that aside,” BJ continued as if she hadn’t spoken, taking no offense to her sharp tone, “this shouldn’t have happened. Uncle said—”
“How long will it take to fix?”
BJ sent her a long look. “What’s the rush?”
“I feel naked without it.”
He sent her another long, searching look before he said, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“The emerald shouldn’t have fallen out. That’s a bad sign.”
“You just told me—”
“I know what I just said, but I was only talking because I know how much you hate when I don’t say anything.”
She frowned, annoyed by his insight. “You were humoring me?”
He shrugged then returned his gaze to the stone. “We both know that this ring is different.” He looked at her. “You’re different.”
She sighed. “I got angry and threw it against the wall. Okay?”
From his expression it was clear that wasn’t okay. “You don’t throw things.”
“I did this time.”
He nodded but he didn’t believe her, however she knew he wasn’t going to ask any more questions. At times, the fact that he wasn’t the talkative type was useful to her. “Come back in a few days,” he said. “Same time. Jessie won’t be around. I’ll buzz you in the same.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m good at keeping secrets.” He lifted a brow. “In case you were wondering.”
