by G. R. Lyons
Instead, she turned over onto her side to face him, murmuring, “My turn.”
“For what?”
“I'm going to demand something of you.”
He chuckled. “What's that?”
Saira reached for the hem of his t-shirt. “Clothes off.”
Charlie hesitated, searching her eyes, then sat up and threw his shirt aside.
“Well, I'm certainly not going to argue with that.”
* * *
THE NEXT morning, Saira stood on the front steps of the Hawkeye Agency, a crowd of reporters gathered before her, while a force of armed officers in uniform from several agencies stood behind her, their eyes peeled for any sign of Thayeron Cryntz.
“Good morning,” Saira began, looking at the faces before her. “We won't be taking questions, but we do have an announcement to make regarding the Rose Killer.”
She paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “Since he's been active, the Rose Killer has been completely untraceable. He left no evidence by which to track him. It has recently come to our attention that he was able to do so thanks to his training on Jadu'n.”
The reporters gasped, and held their recorders closer.
“We've spoken to the Jaduan High Council,” Saira explained, “and are currently trying to reach them again about possible aid in this matter. In the meantime, we finally have someone who can identify the Killer.”
Saira swallowed, picked a camera at random, and focused on it.
“You may have heard of me as Asenna Shyth, the Spirit of Hawkeye Defense Agency. I've been in hiding, not only for my telepathic abilities, but because I was suffering from amnesia. That has now passed.” She straightened up as much as she could, keeping her head high and her gaze steady. “My real name is Saira Crawford, and I was the Rose Killer's third victim.”
The reporters erupted in questions and moved closer, so Saira held up a hand. “I survived his torture, and now that my memory has returned, I am the only living person who can put a name to the Killer.” Clenching her hands into fists to steady herself, Saira continued: “Thayeron Cryntz is on the loose. He is a full Jaduan mage, and therefore very powerful and very dangerous. We urge anyone who knows him to stay clear, if possible, until we're able to catch him. Any information regarding his whereabouts can be submitted to any defense agency. His image will be provided to anyone who requests it for general broadcast. If your homes or businesses have video surveillance and you are willing to share it, we will gladly accept any submissions that will help us track this man down. Thank you. That is all.”
Saira spun on her heel, ignoring the crash of questions that erupted behind her, and disappeared back into the building with the officers all around her.
Chief stood in the middle of the main office area, his arms folded over his chest. He still wasn't pleased with the plan, but he hadn't made a move to stop her.
“Now?” he asked her.
Saira took a deep breath and met his eyes.
“Now, we wait.”
* * *
DAYS PASSED with not a shred of progress. Charlie spent all his waking hours chasing down anonymous tips, which always led to nothing but dead ends. People would call, claiming they'd seen Cryntz near their homes or businesses, but by the time Charlie or any of the other officers arrived, there was no sign of the man.
The mage had also entirely vanished from the range of any cameras. The facial recognition software ran overtime, but nowhere could Cryntz be found.
“Have we heard back from Lady Farren yet?” the chief asked as they all sat around the conference table, going over surveillance footage that showed nothing.
“She came by yesterday while you were out, Chief,” Charlie said, tossing aside his jacket and going to stand behind Saira, resting his hands on her shoulders. “They're trying to gather enough magi to do that—What did she call it?—binding circle thing, but she said it might take time.”
“And what about tracking him?” Chief asked, clutching a mug of coffee in one hand and rubbing his temples with the other.
“She said they're trying, but his movements are too erratic to keep up with.”
Saira reached up and rested her hands on top of Charlie's, giving them a squeeze. Across the table, the chief gave a heavy sigh.
“Alright.” He sat forward, staring blankly at the swarm of false evidence spread out before them, and shook his head, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his hand around the coffee mug. “We'll just have to keep looking.”
The room fell silent as the other detectives filed out, leaving Charlie, his wife, and the chief alone at the enormous table. Charlie sat down with a sigh, and the three of them just looked at one another, not saying a word.
Across from him, Charlie saw the chief look off to one side, shake his head, and murmur, “I don't know.”
Charlie's eyes went wide, and he glanced over at Saira, whispering, “The ghost is here, isn't it?”
“She,” Saira corrected in a whisper. “Yes, she's–”
Before Saira could finish, Charlie saw the end of his tie lift away from his body and wiggle in front of his eyes.
He sat back, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes went wide again.
The chief looked in his direction, his face expressionless. “Vorena.”
The tie fell back into place, and Charlie let out his breath in a whoosh.
“Charlie–”
“I'm alright,” he said, glancing all around the room without turning his head. “I might get used to this someday.” He paused, looking around again, and added, “Maybe.”
The chief leaned back in his chair, following something with his eyes as he sighed, “Not now, please. Thank you.” Beside him, an empty chair slid back and started rocking slightly, and the chief just shook his head, then glanced at his coffee mug, opening his hand as the mug floated over and into his waiting fingers.
Charlie narrowed his eyes. “Alright, now, are you really doing that or is that just the ghost moving things for you?”
Chief chuckled, giving a half smile. “No, that was actually me. Vorena keeps telling me I need to practice, so…” He opened his hand, and the mug lifted up an inch, hovering above his fingers. “Who knows? It could prove useful one day.”
A knock at the door startled them, and Chief caught his mug out of the air as Lani peeked into the room.
“Sorry to disturb you, Chief,” the receptionist said. “Mr. Garbon is on the line. He said Vesad Stromos is performing again next week and wanted to know if you were interested in seeing the show again.”
The chief opened his mouth to answer, then looked over at the empty chair beside him. He smiled and turned back to Lani, but before he could say anything, the receptionist went on: “He said he's holding a few tickets for you at the same price as last time, if you're interested.”
“Absolutely,” the chief said. “Tell him two, pl–” He paused, glancing over at Charlie and Saira. “Actually, make it four, if that's alright.”
Lani nodded. “Four. Will do, sir.”
The receptionist disappeared, and as the door shut, the chief gave Charlie and Saira a look that was almost a question and almost a command.
Charlie glanced over at Saira, and she gave him a subtle nod. He smiled back at her, then looked at the chief with a nod of his own. Good for them all to stick together as much as possible while Cryntz was still on the loose, and a more public place, the better.
Not to mention, Charlie realized with a sigh, the gods only knew how much they could all use a night out, away from their nightmares.
* * *
BENASH WATCHED on a secure feed in his office as Saira mechanically went through a series of exercises down in the firing range.
Dr. Galvin stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the screen.
“She always used to do this for fun,” Benash murmured. “Never when she was stressed.”
“Well, she's gotten into that habit the past few years,” the doctor said. “As Asenna, it was her fa
vorite outlet for depression or anger. I suppose it's hard for her to let go of that now.”
“But she looks so…”
“Not present,” the doctor supplied, and Benash nodded. Galvin pointed at the screen, saying, “You can see it in her gaze. Her mind is elsewhere, and she's trying to distract herself, but it's not working.”
They watched in silence for several minutes while Saira blithely fired at the targets, effortlessly making patterns of straight lines and circles and hitting the bullseyes dead-on.
Dr. Galvin chuckled. “This isn't even a challenge for her anymore.” He paused while they watched Saira call up three more targets, staring at them with something like boredom as they popped up. “I almost bet she could do this without–”
Saira turned her head to one side, closed her eyes, and fired off three perfect shots.
“–looking.”
Benash stared at the screen, dumbfounded, and looked up at Dr. Galvin, who was doing the same.
“Holy sh–” The doctor blinked. “Did you know she could do that?”
Benash shook his head, his eyes fixed to the screen as Saira looked down at the empty gun in her hand.
* * *
SAIRA CALLED up more ammunition and reloaded her weapon. She shoved in the magazine and chambered a round without looking, her eyes fixed on the targets. They all bore perfect patterns and bullseyes, as usual, the exercise effortless after so many years of practice.
She glanced at the panel, the button for Chaos Mode taunting her. Saira hesitated, glancing from the button to the targets and back.
With a low growl, she slammed her fist against the button and waited while the system removed the used targets and set up for the battle scenario.
Saira took a deep breath, fixing her grip on the gun.
You can do this, she thought. Just focus. You can do this.
The lights went out, and noise erupted all around her as she heard a crash of thunder overhead and the motion of targets before her. She swung her weapon to one side and then the other, trying to get a feel for where the targets might be, but still unable to see them.
And all the while, her heart raced.
She screamed when the lights flickered and flashed, showing her two targets for just a split second before it went black again. Gasping in a deep breath, she tried to brace herself, only to flinch and curl in on herself when the lights flashed again.
Gods damn it all, Saira, focus!
Taking several rapid breaths, she tried to straighten her arms, aiming the gun into darkness, but her hands shook as her eyes darted from one side to the other. The lights flashed again, and suddenly she was back in the basement, lying on a cold, metal table, the overhead lights flickering and buzzing as Thayeron Cryntz used magic to keep her numb as he snapped the bones in her arm.
Used it to keep her from screaming when he carved into her flesh.
To keep her eyes open as he thrust his way inside her body.
Saira let out a low cry, shaking and sobbing, and tried to force herself to raise the gun.
“It's not real,” she stammered. “It's not real. Look past it. He's not here. It's not real.”
The lights flashed again, a target zooming toward her out of the dark, and she flinched, crying out as she ducked her head, seeing Thayeron Cryntz looming over her as he raped her for the fourth time, the overhead lights flashing erratically as his magic spread uncontrolled throughout the room in the height of his passion.
* * *
BENASH LOOKED up and saw Galvin shake his head.
“She's not ready,” the doctor said.
“For what?” Benash asked.
“To face him. Cryntz. She might say she is, but actually facing him could be an entirely different thing.”
Benash cringed, watching as his daughter broke down under the chaos of distractions in the firing range, barely able to raise the weapon in her hands, let alone aim and fire.
“Maybe she won't have to face him herself,” Benash suggested. “Maybe we can catch him as he comes after her, and–”
He stopped when he saw the doctor shaking his head.
“Painful as it will be,” Dr. Galvin said, “she'll probably heal better in the long run if she's able to face him herself. Still, I'm not sure she's quite ready to stand up to him. If she ever finds herself face-to-face with Cryntz, the repressed memories that she's not yet dealt with could crush her, break her down, keep her from finding the strength to resist him. Benash, as your colleague and your friend, I must tell you that you need to be prepared. This could end very badly.”
Benash nodded absently, turning back to the screen as Saira lowered her hands, sobbing, while the sequence continued before her.
“I know.”
* * *
CHARLIE SLIPPED into the firing range, feeling his way in the dark as he watched the crash and flashes of Chaos Mode playing at the other side of the room. He saw Saira in one of the booths, breaking down under the noise and distractions.
He rushed forward and slammed his fist against a kill switch that immediately ended the sequence, the noise cutting off abruptly and the lights slowly coming back on.
Saira dropped the gun and bent over the table, covering her head with her arms.
“Honey,” he murmured, moving to her side and grabbing her by the shoulders.
“I can't do it,” she sobbed. “Why have I never been able to do this?”
Charlie almost laughed. “You can't be perfect at everything.”
Saira straightened up, leaning back against a partition between booths, and wiped the tears from her face while she kept sobbing.
“But you can do this,” she said. “I've seen you. You do it like it's nothing.”
“Saira, honey, you're being too hard on yourself. You've got a lot on your mind right now. No need to push yourself with this.”
She shook her head, staring down at the gun, then up at the motionless targets. “I keep thinking that if I could just get through this, I could get through just about anything. Make all the visions go away. Make the nightmares go away.”
“Hey,” he whispered, opening his arms and waiting. She hesitated a moment, then curled up against him, resting her forehead on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. “It's gonna be alright. I promise.”
Saira shook her head, grabbing the lapels of his jacket as she asked, “How do you do it?”
“Saira–”
“No, how?” she asked, lifting her head and nodding toward the dummies. “How do you manage it?”
He wiped a tear off her cheek and smiled at her. “It's just a matter of ignoring everything that doesn't matter. Pretend the lightning isn't there. Pretend there's no noise. It's just you, the gun, and the target. Shut everything else out. Sometimes, if you pay really close attention, you can see a bit of a pattern to it. Not always, but if you find that pattern, and latch onto it to the exclusion of all else, you can aim to where your target is going to be a moment before it gets there in a flash of light. And you–” He paused, chuckling. “Your reaction time is so much faster than mine. If you ever mastered this, you would easily put me to shame, that's for sure.”
Saira sniffed and took a step back, sighing as she leaned against the partition again.
“That's why I hate it,” she murmured, staring at the targets. “It's too random. Either that or it's too chaotic for me to see the pattern.”
“You'll find it.”
She shook her head, hugging herself. “Sometimes I wish I couldn't see patterns. Couldn't see what was coming. He kept moving in a pattern, doing things in a certain order, and once my mind latched onto that, I couldn't let it go. I knew what he was going to do next and I couldn't stop him. That was almost worse than the suspense of not knowing, because I couldn't do anything about it.” Taking a deep breath, she tightened her arms around herself and looked away. “But then I see things that are out of order or have no pattern, and it just eats at me. I want things straight, organized. I want things in or
der and in their proper places. I come in here, thinking the chaos would be a good change for me, but then I just can't handle it. Especially now.” She paused, her voice dropping to a low murmur. “I see the flashing lights and I'm back in that basement.”
Charlie looked at her, seeing her stare blankly into the past, into her nightmares.
“Here, come on,” he murmured, reaching past her to end the session, waiting while the gun was reclaimed and the targets disappeared. “Ice cream. Ice cream fixes everything.”
Saira shook her head and laughed, wiping away the last of her tears.
“Gods, you know me too well.”
Charlie held out his hand and Saira took it, and he led her out of the room, glancing up at the tiny camera hidden up in a corner and giving it a slight nod.
* * *
BENASH CLOSED the video feed while Dr. Galvin went around to the other side of the desk and sat down.
“You must be the luckiest father in the history of fathers,” the doctor said, nodding at the screen.
“Why's that?” Benash asked.
“Charlie's a good man. Not many would be able to handle this kind of situation, especially as well as he's done. They may need a bit of therapy to get through the next few years as Saira heals, but overall he seems to have a sort of instinct of how to behave around her. He's very careful with her. Honestly, I think the most drama will come from Saira struggling to understand that he needs to heal, too. As do you, for that matter.”
“I'm fine,” Benash said, waving the comment away.
“Benash.” The doctor leveled a look at him. “Don't discount your own suffering in this. You're what's called a secondary survivor. Those can go through just as much emotional trauma as the victim. You and Charlie will both need to help Saira learn how to live again, but she'll also need to learn to help you two through your own healing. It is possible. You can all work together, go through the stages, and put all this behind you. It'll take time, but it can happen.”
Benash nodded to himself, staring at the blank screen lying before him.
“Gods, I hope so.”
Chapter 27
A LIGHT rain fell as Charlie pulled into the parking garage for his building. He found his spot and stopped the car, grinning at Saira as he reached into the back seat for the ice cream they'd picked up on the way home.
