From the Ashes: A Psychic Visions Novel

by Dale Mayer

  He watched as she walked slowly to the hotel, not looking left, not looking right, but intent on the building in front of her. Yet she didn’t race; she just moved confidently to her destination. Fascinating in a way. And maybe he’d found his offering to the Elders.

  “May I get you something else?”

  Startled, he looked up at the young waitress, standing beside him with a coffeepot in hand. He looked down at his empty cup and shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” she said but hesitated. “Are you feeling okay?”

  He froze, then surged his energy up around his host’s body so the waitress felt more secure in his presence. The energy was draining from him faster every day. He’d hoped Irene would have helped him more but he’d need another victim to feed his own needs soon. Irene had been fun, being inside her body when she jumped—exhilarating—but feeling her silent scream as she understood her fate … intoxicating. Keeping her spirit on a leash, even now … well that just kept him from being bored. Of course it only worked that way with the weak-willed ones. Others fought to the bitter end.

  Still, his games came at a price. Energy. If he wasn’t careful, he’d give away his presence. And that would never do. He was here with his host’s permission but secrecy was the price they both had to pay to keep his work moving forward. He smiled up at the waitress. “I’m a little tired today. Thanks for caring …”

  She smiled in relief. “Would you like to pay for your coffee here or inside?”

  He looked down and realized she was worried he’d bail on his bill. She was another young arrival just here for the summer. Otherwise she’d have recognized who she was serving. Still better she didn’t know him … or his host. He stood, pulled money from his pocket and handed it to her. It was way too much, and that was fine. Money didn’t matter to him. He took note of her features, confirming her youth as she had to be in her twenties, and he nodded and walked away.

  She stood staring after him as he left.

  He crossed over to a park bench, where he was out of sight from the restaurant and sat down.

  Just then a cop car pulled up and parked beside the bus. Out stepped Rowan, who lifted a hand at the sight of him, then turned and walked into the same coffee shop.

  The Supplier walked unhurriedly away, deliberately not looking back. When he got to the alleyway, he slid against the wall to rest for a moment and then peered around the corner. And found Rowan strolling in his direction. His heart froze, and he didn’t understand what was going on, but he felt fear. Absolutely unending fear as adrenaline shot through his system.

  The cop was almost at the entrance of the alley when a woman called out to him. Rowan hesitated, looking into the shadows where the Supplier leaned against the wall, then frowned at the woman running to him.

  “What’s the matter?”

  He heard Rowan speak but couldn’t hear the woman’s response. The Supplier took this opportunity anyway. While the cop wasn’t looking, the Supplier disappeared. As he got to the end of the alleyway and turned to look back, he knew he was out of sight. The cop stood with hands on his hips, glaring in the Supplier’s direction, and he knew this wasn’t over.

  In truth, it had just begun.

  Chapter 9

  Phoenix walked back into the hotel, exhausted, both mentally and physically. But, on an emotional level, something had spiked an energy surge within her. Standing before the Burning Fires, it seemed. Just further confirming her destiny to be here. She couldn’t tell whether she trusted the cop or not, and that bothered her. She had good reasons for not trusting people. Yet not so much in recent years. But then everything she and Rowan had been through so far, where Rowan had been involved, had been steadfast and solid. She had no reason not to trust him.

  She knew his name and that he was a cop, but that was it.

  Lunch had been a picnic at the site, and it was now three-thirty. She had the rest of the afternoon and evening free, and tomorrow they would leave at nine a.m. Sharp. She had so little time left …

  Phoenix decided she needed tea first and a chance to just sit and destress a bit. Seated once again at the same small table at the window in the hotel café, she waited for her tea to arrive. Once again a shadow loomed behind her as Rowan approached and sat across from her.

  She looked over at him. “Well?”

  One eyebrow lifted. “You don’t give a guy much time.”

  “I don’t have much time,” she said curtly. “I leave tomorrow morning, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve spoken to the local geologist. He thinks your need is foolish and dangerous, but, as long as I’m willing to support you in this, he will take us where you can get the closest. He figures, with the addition of a rock, we could potentially throw it in the fire.”

  Hope surged within her. “That would be terrific. I know nobody else understands. But then nobody else understands what I went through either.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t give him any details, so, as far as he is concerned, this is a frivolous quest.” Rowan lowered his voice when he asked, “No one seems to have noticed anything odd going on. Have you seen Irene again?”

  Phoenix gave a quick shake of her head. “No, but then I don’t want to. I’m wondering if I can block this. Maybe if I keep telling whatever is out there that I don’t want anything to do with this, they’ll stay away.”

  “I doubt it,” he said. “But, if it works, I’ll try that too.”

  “And yet, I think you’re more accustomed to this type of thing than I am.”

  He gave a humorous snort. “Anybody who was raised by a father who could create fire at the end of his fingers …”

  “I was tortured by that fire,” she corrected. “I was just sitting here, wondering how much of his behavior was to train me for what was to come and how much was to expunge his anger because he was afraid of me.”

  Rowan leaned forward. “Why would he be afraid of you?”

  She took several deep calming breaths, and just then the waitress arrived with the pot of tea and a cup. She smiled up at her and said, “Thank you.”

  The waitress looked at Rowan. “Do you want a cup for tea too?”

  He nodded. “That would be great. Thanks, Melissa.”

  The woman walked away, and Phoenix turned her attention to the tea steeping in front of her.

  He wouldn’t let it go. “What were you going to say?”

  Her lips quirked. “I wouldn’t say anything if I could.”

  “We’re well past that,” he said harshly. “You want my help. I want to know the details.”

  She picked up a spoon, lifted the lid off the teapot and gently stirred the contents. She wasn’t terribly fussy about her tea, but it gave her something to do. “He felt he was geared for greatness,” she said slowly. “You’ve got to understand. This is all coming from an eleven-year-old mind. And what I learned about him afterward.”

  “I’ll take what the eleven-year-old has to say,” he said smoothly. “So spill.”

  “He said, for every good person, there’s always a greater evil. Somebody who tries to bring him down. And he said somebody is always poised to replace whoever is at the top. Evil is always pulling him down because he wants to take his spot. But he knew so much more than evil did and laughed at his attempts.”

  “He thought you were the evil replacement?” Then Rowan gave a shake of his head. “Did anybody seriously listen to this guy?”

  “The other women and children did. I’m not sure about anybody else.”

  “Right. I wanted to get back to the office and do some research on that group.”

  “Why?” she asked. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Not long enough apparently,” he said. He looked at her, motioning at the tea. “Don’t you want to pour that?”

  She picked up the pot and gently poured herself a cup. “It wasn’t that long ago,” she admitted. “At least in my head. Everybody else involved, I suspect, are
all dead.”

  “And yet, you think some kids are still alive?”

  “I don’t know if they are or not,” she said. “I don’t remember much about that day, and I never saw or made contact with them after that.”

  “You don’t want to find out, do you?”

  “No,” she replied. “I really don’t.”

  “Why? Because you think they’ll still treat you the same way?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “You aren’t treated like that without getting a huge sense of insecurity about future behavior.”

  “Were you terrified of them?”

  She gave him a flat stare. “Let’s just say, some of the torture didn’t stop because my father stopped.”

  He froze, stared at her and said, “What do you mean?”

  Now she wished she hadn’t brought it up. “You heard me.” And she clammed up.

  He waited for several moments. Then finally said, “You think he saw you as competition? That you would replace him?”

  “I think he thought I would be bigger and better than him. He couldn’t stand that I might have more abilities than he had.”

  Rowan sat back, his fingers running a staccato pattern on the tabletop—his nails going click, click, click. She didn’t say a word, just waited. “And why would he think that?”

  She lifted her gaze to him. “I have no idea,” she said, lying through her teeth.

  His gaze narrowed, but she stared back with the same look she’d given him earlier. Daring him almost to question her further.

  The waitress returned with a cup and pot of tea for him. She smiled at the two of them. “Are you sure you don’t want a bite to eat? We have lovely cinnamon buns, just out of the oven.”

  Rowan nodded. “We’ll have two.”

  When the waitress left again, Phoenix asked, “How do you know I wanted one?”

  “Because you’re hungry,” he replied with a smirk.

  She stared out the window beside him and then admitted, “I wasn’t even thinking about it, but you’re right. I wanted one.”

  “See? I do know,” he said smugly.

  “You know some things,” she corrected. “When are we going?”

  He checked his watch. “When the geologist is off work. At six.”

  “Good,” she said. “It will be great to get it done.”

  He motioned at her hands. “Do you still have the letter?”

  “I’ve had this letter since I was a child,” she said coolly. “Obviously I still have it.”

  “What were the stains on it?”

  She froze and then settled back. “Blood.”

  “Yours or his?” he asked, his tone hard.

  “I imagine both,” she said.

  “When these other children tortured you, well past the time he stopped, were other adults around?”

  “Depended on which child was involved,” she said. “Alice used to come in and poke my fresh wounds when I was sleeping. Jessica poured vinegar on an open burn any chance she could. And then there was Elisha. I would finally get to sleep, and she’d start banging things by my ear, waking me up again, so I could never rest. And they did it all with their mothers’ permission. You really don’t understand gang mentality until you live it.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  She stared out at the bright green lush world. “I am too. It’s one of the reasons I need to throw this letter in that fire.”

  “That’s the part I don’t get,” he said, his tone turning thoughtful. “How has that letter got anything to do with that horrible childhood?”

  She shrugged irritably. “All I can tell you is, it’s something I feel I must do.”

  He settled back and nodded. “Good enough then. Six it is.”

  The waitress arrived with two large plates, displaying the massive cinnamon buns.

  For the first time in a long time, Phoenix smiled. “These are gorgeous,” she said. “Amazing.”

  Melissa chuckled. “I did pick out the two biggest ones for you guys.”

  “I appreciate it. Thank you,” Phoenix said.

  She had no clue why she was getting special treatment and was afraid to hear the answer. But Rowan didn’t appear to have any problem with it. He picked up his fork and pulled open the cinnamon bun, hot steam escaping. She did the same. The icing on top still hadn’t hardened. “I gather because I’m with you that I get special treatment,” she said.

  “No clue,” he said cheerfully. “Normally I don’t get this kind of treatment.”

  She took several bites, thoroughly enjoying it. Her gaze once again drifted outside. “It’s really beautiful here.”

  “It is,” he said. “I’ve been here most of my life.”

  “You never wanted to live anywhere else?”

  “Not now. I spent almost a decade in Kentucky but finally couldn’t resist the urge to come home. I too have a few issues that made it easier to spend my life here.”

  “And so those issues weren’t ones you wanted to run away from?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “My grandmother is a psychic. She has a lot of Gypsy in her. Has traveled extensively and often knows things ahead of time.”

  Phoenix’s mouth parted slightly, and she put down her fork, staring at him. “Is she still alive?”

  He slowly raised his head to look at her. “She is. Do you want to meet her? I’ve told her about you.”

  “Really? Do I want to? I’m not sure,” she admitted, even more unsure to think he’d told his family about her. “But need to? Yes.”

  At that wording, he stared at her in surprise.

  She shrugged. “I know. I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but I have to honor those instincts.”

  “As soon as we’re done with this, we can go see her. She lives in town here. Just a few blocks away.” He pulled out his phone. “Let me see what she’s up to.”

  He sent a text, which surprised her. “You don’t call her?”

  He shook his head. “She’s not a big one for calls. She has a hearing aid and finds it difficult to hear on a phone.”

  His phone buzzed a moment later. He smiled. “She said I’m supposed to bring you.” His smile fell away. “And she added, … Leave Irene behind.” His gaze flew up to Phoenix.

  She looked around but saw no sign of Irene. As she glanced back outside, her breath sucked in, and she pointed.

  He turned and swore.

  *

  “I wonder why we’re seeing Irene?” Rowan muttered under his breath. “I suspect we’ll find out from my grandmother.”

  “Then we need to see her as soon as we can,” she said. “Preferably before I go to the Burning Fires.”

  “Good point.” He sent a text to his grandma, telling her that they’d be there in half an hour. He got an immediate response.

  The sooner, the better.

  He winced at that. “Although I don’t know how we’re supposed to ditch a ghost,” he said. He watched as Irene stared at them. This time the look on her face was more vacant than anything. “What does she want from us?”

  Phoenix shrugged and asked, “Did you have a chance to do any research on her?”

  “I did,” he said. It was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He deliberately took one of the last bites of his cinnamon bun, so he could chew while he thought about the answer. But, from the look in Phoenix’s eyes, she understood what he’d done. He sighed and replied, “Her life wasn’t as simple as I had thought.”

  “Did she kill her child?”

  He stared at her. “Why would you think that?”

  She frowned. “Just answer the question.”

  “It’s a possibility, yes. That’s what we’re afraid of,” he said cautiously. “It’s quite likely.”

  “So chances are, her extreme depression wasn’t the loss as much as the guilt.”

  “Possibly.”

  “I wonder if she was picked.”

  He stared at her blankly. “How do you go from suicide to murder? I don’t th
ink I like the direction you’re going.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, her voice harsh. “But, if somebody is doing this, they might potentially be looking for victims. How does one determine who deserves to live and who deserves to die?” She leaned forward. “How else do we explain what we saw first?”

  “You think because somebody might have assumed that’s what she did, she deserved to have this done to her?” He motioned to the outside window, where, by now, Irene was gone. He couldn’t help but be amazed and grateful that he wasn’t seeing her spirit again. “But we had a shared premonition.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my young life that made no sense. I’ve always known there was more to understand. I just didn’t know how to learn more.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through to get here,” he said. “I’m familiar with this stuff because of my grandmother.”

  “Your parents didn’t have the abilities?”

  He shook his head. “No, it seemed to have skipped a generation.” He swore in his head because he hadn’t intended on letting her know. But, of course, she didn’t miss that either.

  “Meaning, you do have abilities?” she asked slowly. “Like what?”

  “Well, like, seeing Irene for one,” he replied. He motioned at her empty plate. “Are you ready? Maybe we should go now.”

  “You mean now, while we’re alone?”

  He looked out the window and nodded. “Exactly.

  *

  The Supplier watched as the two walked out of the hotel. He could see their energy already blending and blurring together. That wasn’t good. It would be that much harder to separate her from him the longer it went on.

  He wasn’t sure what abilities Rowan had. But it was obvious he had a protective energy around her, which was interesting, especially considering, up until now, there had been no threat against her. So why the protection?

  Auras told the Supplier so much about a person—but not everything. He wanted to see so much more, and sometimes he could, but sometimes it was past his ability.

  Rowan and the woman headed down the steps to the main street, crossed and continued walking. The Supplier followed at a slower pace. He wondered where the pair was going and why in such a hurry. As they walked, they turned and looked around, as if sensing a predator.