by Dale Mayer
“I figured it was the only place I could go and be free from it, yes. He came from the town where Rowan lives. I thought maybe, if it went back there, it would feel like going home, and the letter would let me go. I’ve been a prisoner of that letter all my life. … I just wanted to be free.”
“It’s quite possible you will be …” Grayse said. “But freedom from what? It’s possible that it’s planning on taking you with it—wherever that may be—including the Burning Fires in Iceland. Possibly the ultimate test for a powerful Phoenix. There you’d die and would rise yet again. Or not.”
*
They’d gone. All three of them.
Rage ate away at him. How could that be? The Supplier had been watching until late last night, and, by the time he’d rousted this morning and had returned to check on the trio, they’d left. He could feel the energy shift, the absence of the presences he sought.
Back in town he checked his phone for any news, then picked a coffee shop to hear the latest gossip. It wasn’t long before he understood that Rowan had taken several days’ leave, and he’d left the village and gone to the US. Because of her, no doubt. Although the Supplier couldn’t discount the dangerous energy of the other unknown man with them.
Frustrated, but realizing all this did was delay his plans and didn’t cancel them, the Supplier settled back to wait.
If they’d gone to deal with Phoenix’s issues, then she’d be stronger, happier, theoretically a much better offering to the Elders.
As long as they could wait that long.
It all had to do with energy. Feeding the source to keep them alive.
The Supplier frowned as he contemplated her soul, her energy and those energies that surrounded her. Maybe she was better off alive and feeding the Elders little bits at a time. They had a few like that. Ones who had more value alive than dead.
Something was familiar about her energy. It bothered him. He needed to figure it out. Mistakes at this point were costly.
Deadly even.
Chapter 23
The next morning, Phoenix woke up alone in the hotel, feeling as if something in her life had shifted, something major. She didn’t quite understand it, but the revelations about her childhood, how she had lived, how the ones had died in the bomb shelter had been enlightening. She didn’t even know how to start processing it all.
To add in the possibility that her father was still alive in energy and existing as part of her was just terrifying.
She got out of bed, suddenly needing to get on the move, needing to do something, anything. She walked into the bathroom and decided a shower would be a great place to start. It took two shampoos to get her hair feeling clean. Being in that bunker made her feel like she was completely encased in dirt.
She had few memories of that group of males and not ones she could count on. And none in relation to the mysterious letter she still carried. She remembered her father saying it had been handed down from his father and his grandfather. He often called them his Elders. That the paper was ancient, whatever that meant.
Out of the shower, she dressed, braided her hair, then stepped into the small living room area of their hotel suite to find both men up. Rowan stood and opened his arms. She walked in his embrace, loving the morning hug. They’d slept like the dead they’d seen yesterday, but just knowing he’d been there with her had been wonderful. He smiled down at her. “Did you have a good night?”
“Sure,” she said. “If demons and fire and death and life after death and ghosts count as a good night.” She walked over to the kitchen and saw they had made a small pot of coffee. She got a cup, which emptied the pot, so she put on another one. “These pots aren’t meant to hold much, are they?”
“No, we figured we’d go out for breakfast soon.”
“Good, and then what?”
“Then we need to see a lawyer about your property,” Rowan said. “I’d like to know the history of who has owned it.”
“That’s probably a good idea. I wonder if my father’s father had it before him,” she said. “I also woke up remembering my father said that letter was ancient and that his grandfather and others had it before him.”
Both men looked at her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know why that would be important though.”
“I have no idea if that makes a difference, but I contacted Stefan this morning,” Grayse said. “He said, if artifacts are taken from their homeland, sometimes they’re imbued with energy that is much less than friendly. When generations of energy are added, it can corrupt as negative builds on the negative. He suggested it’s behind your need to go to the Burning Fires. Not necessarily to destroy it but so it can go home. Often, when returned to its resting place, it will calm down. And your need to destroy it in the Burning Fires is likely partially driven by its own need plus your own to move forward and to leave your father behind.”
“That’s all very nebulous and unclear,” she said, turning to sip her coffee. “I gather I was correct in taking it to its origin and wanting to drop it in the lava pit.”
“Potentially, yes,” Grayse replied. “It certainly is something worth following up on.”
“I was trying to,” she said. “But you guys wouldn’t let me.”
Rowan dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder. “We are going back. We can do it then.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything about that. “The lawyer is no longer in business, correct?” she asked.
“Correct, but somebody took over all his clients. I’m trying to figure out who that is,” Grayse said. “The cops are getting us some information too.”
“Food would be good in the meantime,” she said quietly. She looked at Rowan. “And going home would be nice.”
He studied her quietly. “When you say home, what does that mean to you?”
She started. “Oh. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that,” she said. “But you’re right. I was thinking of heading back to your hometown.” She shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her? Iceland was hardly home. She doubted she could even stay very long without applying for a visa of some sort. She’d have to get a work visa at a minimum. She seemed to be completely disassociated with everything. The only place that seemed to feel like home was his place, and that was so odd.
He squeezed her shoulder gently and said, “Maybe your homing instincts are stronger than you think.”
She looked up at him. “Just because it was my father’s hometown …”
“And his father’s and his grandfather’s. So you have a lot of lineage there. It would be normal to think you were going home. What about where your apartment is? And your foster parents?”
She looked at him, and confusion and distress must have shown on her face because he opened his arms again. She didn’t even hesitate, she walked into his embrace and snuggled close.
She murmured against his chest, “You’re very cuddly.”
He chuckled. “I can’t say I’ve been told that before.”
“That was very short-sighted of them then,” she said, “because you are obviously a big teddy bear.” She hugged him close. “Do we really have to stay here?” she asked.
He tucked her closer and said, “We can go home as soon as you want to, after we’ve cleared up any paperwork. We’re booked on a flight tomorrow afternoon. Remember?”
“I forgot,” she admitted. “I just wish it could be today.”
“I think we have enough things to sort out today,” he said.
Grayse stood and said, “Let’s go get breakfast. I need to touch base with Stefan after that.”
Rowan said, “Seems like you’re fairly knowledgeable in this stuff.”
“Too knowledgeable,” he replied.
As they walked out and locked up the hotel room, Phoenix asked Grayse, “How did you get started in this?”
“I was part of a shoot-him-up-dust-him-up kind of a family massacre,” he said calmly. “I was just a child, but I watched the spirits of every one of my family membe
rs cluster around me to try and protect me from the maniac gunman, who happened to be my oldest brother. I never forgot seeing them and once I did, I saw every dead person imaginable.” He gave Phoenix a crooked smile. “That was just the start of it. After that, there were all kinds of images and colors and energy that I saw. Took a long time to train myself and to improve my abilities.”
“I can’t imagine,” she said faintly.
“You do it all the time yourself,” he said. “Look at you. You use energy to wrap up and protect yourself. You use energy to heal.”
“Sure,” she said, “but I’m mostly stealing energy. It always made me feel bad.”
“What do you do about it?”
She shrugged. “If I care, I send the energy back with that much more healing attached to it.”
He gave a bark of laughter. “That’s the best thing you could do. Always give better than you’ve received. That’s a motto everybody should live by.”
Instead of driving, they exited the hotel and stood in the street. Phoenix pointed across the way. “A coffee shop used to be on the other side of the street, maybe down a few blocks. But I don’t know if it’s still there.”
“Let’s find out,” Rowan said. He reached out of hand, and she put hers in his. They held hands as they walked across the street. The coffee shop was no longer there, but, as they carried on, another one was down a block farther. They walked in and took a table at the window and waited for service.
Rowan looked at her. “How’s the appetite?”
“I’m starved,” she said. “But it’s not crazy out of control.”
“Good,” Grayse said. “That means some things are settling.”
“It was bad yesterday,” she said. “Just the thought that I might be feeding him …”
He looked at her with understanding. “It’s always a good thing to know what someone is doing and why,” he said. “And to understand that you do have control over that.”
“I was wondering about that,” she said in a low tone. “Just how much control does he have?”
“Any he has is because you’ve given him permission to have it,” he said calmly. “That’s the thing about the other side. They can only do what you allow them to do. Theoretically, in real life, that happens too. When you lose that physical body, you can only do what another person allows you to do. So, if you don’t want him there, it’s up to you to detach him and to toss him.”
She stared at Grayse. “Is it that easy?”
He shrugged. “In theory, yes. In practice, no. But it can be done.”
She sagged against the chair, picked up her coffee cup and studied him over the rim. “What if I may have picked up some energies from a bunch of other people?” she asked delicately. “And didn’t return them? Like the ones I didn’t care about adding healing energy too.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “How many other people?”
She dropped her gaze to the table. “Quite a few,” she replied hesitantly.
Rowan turned to look at her. She stared back at him and then looked away. “I can’t be sure,” she said. “But I spent a lot of the night thinking about the energy I have collected over the years. And, if I didn’t give it all away, is it all still here? It’s almost like a souvenir, and that makes me feel creepy, like a serial killer. Surely I didn’t hurt those people, did I?”
“If you didn’t take so much as to hurt them physically, then, no,” Grayse said. “If you did it as a child, it’s not something you can be held responsible for either.”
“I’m not sure I like the direction you are going with this.”
“I’m not sure I like the direction I am going with this either,” he said. “How many people?”
She pursed her lips, mentally counting. “I don’t know for sure but at least a dozen,” she said.
He relaxed. “Do you think it’s all because of when you were injured?”
“A lot from that fire at the cult,” she said. “I was panicked and looking for anybody to help, and some people were dying. I don’t know …” She hesitated to even say it. “It is possible I took the last of their energy to try to protect myself?”
“Did you know they were dying? Did you snag that energy from them so you could live and they couldn’t?”
“Of course not!” she replied. “At least not consciously.”
Rowan stretched out his hand and gently rubbed the top of her fidgeting fingers.
She stopped fidgeting and let out a deep sigh. “But I was thinking only of myself,” she admitted.
“Anybody in that situation would only be thinking of themselves,” Rowan said firmly. “It doesn’t really matter. You did what you had to do to survive.”
“What about since then?” Grayse asked.
“After getting shot,” she said. “In the hospital, I was taking little bits of energy from people but not very much. Just enough that I could heal.”
“Have you told him?” Grayse asked.
She shook her head and turned to Rowan. “I’m sorry, but I took some of your energy too.”
“I know,” he said calmly. “Remember? I see energy.”
She stared at him, her gaze fathomless. “And you didn’t mind?”
“I gave you a lot of energy,” he said. “I also wrapped you up, protecting you in energy. So it’s not as if you took anything from me.”
She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
He squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome.
Just then a waitress arrived with large platters of food. Phoenix stared down at the bacon and sausage and ham and eggs and potatoes and said, “See? Now this looks like just about the right amount.”
A big platter of toast arrived and was set in the center of the table. “Okay, so, maybe with that, it’s the right amount.”
The men laughed and said, “Eat up.”
She smiled and picked up a fork and dug in.
*
Rowan found it interesting that her appetite had calmed down from yesterday, as if her father had been driving some of that ferocious appetite. He looked over at Grayse. “So, if her father is still here, can he affect her actions?”
Phoenix froze as she looked up at Rowan, then at Grayse. Rowan could see the fear in her eyes.
Grayse nodded his head. “Affect, yes. He can’t control anything. This goes back to having permission. You might be doing a few things you wouldn’t normally do, but you have given him permission to do that. Stop giving him permission to do anything, and he can’t do anything. The trouble is, he already has a lot of control over you from your childhood. That’s often why torture and abuse happens. It’s all about power. Once you’re afraid, you’ve already handed your power away, giving them the ability to take advantage over and over again. He’s done that all your life. Until you started to fight back.”
“I never fought back,” she said in surprise. “What gave you that idea?”
Grayse chuckled. “Yes, you definitely started to fight back. As soon as you collected energy to heal, you were fighting back. You could lie there and take his abuse. Scream and cry out in pain and torture but know he couldn’t stop you from healing. He could do his worst, and you’d still bounce back. And I think, in some way, he knew that, and that’s why he treated you as badly as he did. Because he was so angry.”
“He could have killed me,” she said quietly. “If that was his intent, he never managed to complete the job.”
“No,” he said. “Thankfully. Maybe he didn’t want to have the proof he could kill you. Maybe he wanted to believe in something bigger and better than him. Most people do, you know. Most of the time, people need to have something to believe in.”
She frowned.
Rowan listened carefully. “What does any of this have to do with suicide season?”
Grayse looked at her. “Maybe it doesn’t?”
“It does,” she said clearly. “I just don’t know how.”
Both men looked at her. Rowan said, “What do you know ab
out it?”
“It’s energy,” she said. “There’s a nastiness about it, a neediness. As if it’s rebalancing. And it is attracting what it needs and draws it in.”
“But they’re coming from all over the world, and they’re not exactly jumping into this lava pit,” Rowan protested.
“Yes, but that lava is drawing energy from all around it,” she said. “It’s not just from around the pit. I don’t know if people have any idea why they are committing suicide or whether it’s just instinct bringing them there.”
Grayse stared at Phoenix. “Who is it who just said that?” he asked.
She frowned at him, then turned to look at Rowan. Rowan studied Grayse and what he saw had him shifting his vision slightly so he could see clearer. “Is that your father speaking?” Rowan asked in a low voice.
She gasped in horror, then understanding, and determination glittered in her eyes.
As he watched, the energy wrapping around her was suddenly picked up and tossed across the room.
“Maybe,” she said indignantly. “Is he really affecting me that much?”
“I don’t know,” Grayse said. “I just knew somebody else was influencing what you said.”
“That’s terrifying,” she said. “He has no right. He has no right to the way I think or what I say or how I believe.”
Rowan glanced around, but nobody else was close enough to hear her words or to hear the fury behind them. Which was a good thing. Because she was getting very riled up. He reached out a hand and gently calmed her down. “Remember. He can only do what you give him permission to do,” he said.
She took several calming slow breaths. “I’ll assume the energy in that entire town is affected by his family line,” she said.