by S. E. Akers
Mike’s breaths turned into restless pants. “That’s not true.”
“Yes, Mike…it is. I was there. I was the one who killed Karl, not your father.”
“Then why couldn’t I see you?” Mike demanded, looking blindsided.
I remained quiet while I searched for the right explanation. It’s all downhill from here.
“I—I erased your memory,” I finally replied.
“WHAT?” Mike asked. “H—How?”
“I can sort of tinker with people’s minds,” I admitted sheepishly.
“That’s CRAZY!” Mike sneered.
“REALLY? I did it to Ty.” I pointed to the dazed third-party standing idly by and as still as a statue. “Who do you think is pullin’ his strings?”
Mike reached for the elevator button again. This time, I picked him up off the floor by the collar of his shirt and tossed him like an empty soda can against the wall.
“I’m pretty strong too, but you already know that,” I contended.
Mike slid down the wall, needing a breather. But at least the look on his face let me know something had finally registered in that stubborn head of his.
“Why?” Mike mumbled. “Why would you do that?”
“You saw some things on the security cameras you shouldn’t have seen. Things I couldn’t afford to have you remember.”
“So you were there?” Mike asked. “You were really there?”
I knelt beside him and nodded somberly.
“Then tell me why my father was murdered,” Mike pleaded.
“The same reason mine was.” I had to say it quickly before I chickened out. “Because of me.” The puzzled look on Mike’s face guilted me into elaborating on my admission. “Lazarus came to Welch looking for something. Something powerful. He thought it was buried inside the mine. When he discovered it had already been claimed, he didn’t need the mine anymore, so that’s why he really backed out of the sale. Your father showed up at the guesthouse when I was there searching through Lazarus’ things. Karl had just shot me.”
“Shot you?” Mike mumbled.
“Your dad was trying to help me. He saw me bleeding all over the desk. He didn’t know I’d been shot.”
“But…the police didn’t find anyone else’s blood at the scene,” Mike contended.
“No. It turns into a kind of sparkly dust when it’s dry.” I winced as I swallowed a hard gulp. “Diamond-dust.”
“Diamond what?”
“Diamond-dust,” I clarified, straight-faced.
Mike narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “Shi…Karl had a burnt hole in his chest the size of a basketball and—”
“Lightning,” I interrupted. “I killed him with a bolt of lightning. That’s what blew him through the wall,” I mumbled. Mike’s mouth cracked open about a foot. Talk about flabbergasted. I’d never seen a mug so stone-cold shocked in my life, and here lately, I’d seen a whole lot of them. My third snap finally brought him out of his trance. “Mike, the thing that Lazarus was looking for was a magical stone. He wanted it for the power it grants, but he found out I had it and tried to kill me. I killed him first. Mike, Malachi doesn’t even know that he’s dead.”
“How?” Mike muttered. “How did you kill him?”
“We were fighting,” I replied. “There was a coal train. I pinned him on the tracks and sent the engineer a message not to stop.”
Mike rested his head against the wall as he quietly contemplated my far-fetched claims. “So my father died because Lazarus was looking for a rock?”
“A stone,” I answered.
“A stone of yours?” Mike posed with a noticeably alarming twitch.
“Yeah,” I mumbled uneasily.
“So if what you’re telling me is true…then my father was collateral damage? That’s what you’re saying? Your collateral damage?”
I simply lowered my head and nodded.
Mike sighed. “And he tried to help you?”
“Yes,” I confirmed with a heavy heart.
“Why didn’t you try to help him?” Mike demanded as he shot to his feet.
“I couldn’t,” I argued.
Mike swiftly ran his fingers through his hair and punched one of the mirrored walls, smashing it into jagged pieces. “You claim to have all these powers, and you still couldn’t save him?” he raged.
“I couldn’t even save my own father!” I yelled as I sprang up. I reached for his arm, but he pushed me away.
“Don’t touch me!” Mike warned fiercely.
“Mike, you have to believe me. I wanted to…but I couldn’t.” That was truer than he could ever know. In some small way, I’d always thought it would’ve eased my guilt over not being able to help Daddy.
“Just get away from me,” Mike grumbled as he punched the seventh floor button and then released the hold on the elevator. Though my emotions were still sinking, right along with our vessel’s preprogrammed path, at least he was eventually headed back up to his room.
“Mike—”
“Shut up, Shiloh,” Mike snapped. He glanced over at the lethargic man and shook his head. “You like to mess with people’s heads. Mess with mine. Make me forget the sight of your face… RIGHT NOW!”
I figured he would be upset (all things considered), but not this mad. We were essentially in the same boat, two souls who had lost their fathers at the hands of the same man. But to my dismay, Mike’s mind was seething like a blazing ball of flames, and I was in smack dab in its core right along with Lazarus and Karl, fueling its heat.
Kara didn’t even take her news “this” bad… And I’d almost got her head chopped-off! He hates me…just as much as Lazarus. Maybe even more?
I shied away from his turbulent gaze. I didn’t want to read anymore of his thoughts. My eyes inadvertently fell on an illuminated red ring just under the button for the lobby — the only other shining circle aside from the number “7” that Mike had just pressed.
The basement? Why not the lobby? A horrible feeling came over me as the bell dinged our arrival. My last Emerald Eyes vision flashed in my mind. Instinctively, I pushed Mike to the rear of the elevator.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Mike raged when he crashed against the wall. I glanced at a section of the mirrors near his head to spy someone’s reflection as the doors opened.
A sharp pain shot through my gut no sooner than I’d turned around. Breathless, I looked down to see a long knife sticking out of it. My eyes trailed its handle to a clamped set of hands. Olaf Rodman was standing there, holding on to the knife with a vehement grip. The vengeful brother of the man I’d killed gave it a good quick turn as he pulled it out. I collapsed, but not before I spotted the blade — one crafted from a familiar banded green stone. The magical malachite weapon was shimmering with a layer of diamond-dust and dripping in my blood.
“SHI!” Mike yelled as he caught me. Olaf seemed stunned that his aim had struck me instead of Mike, but that didn’t stop him from rearing back to take another crack at his intended target. I couldn’t do anything but scream. The poison was burning every inch of my insides. Mike reached down and snatched up a piece of broken glass. Just as Olaf tried to lunge at Mike, the revenge-bent hulking bodyguard abruptly froze in mid-strike. Not a second later, Federo grabbed the knife out of Olaf’s hand and pulled me out of the elevator.
“Staying in or getting off boy?” Federo asked. Mike didn’t say a word as he edged around Olaf, amazed by the catatonic figure that kept getting bumped repeatedly by the closing elevator doors.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mike muttered.
“His mind is temporarily unavailable,” Federo answered artfully.
Mike knelt beside me. “She needs a doctor,” he insisted.
“She does not,” Federo replied as he lifted his blood-covered fingers to his nose and then inspected the knife. “This blade has been dipped in the stone’s poison. What she needs is a healing malachite.”
I couldn’t form a single word through my screams, so I patted my right pocke
t. Thank you, Kara.
Federo reached inside and pulled out both stones. I detected a subtle twinkle in his eyes as he gazed at the red chalcedony. Just when my suspicions were about to get the best of me, the Amber Talisman tucked it back inside my pocket.
“A lucky stone for an even luckier young lady,” Federo remarked as he held up the green-banded tumbled stone. “Are you sure this malachite is not marked with death? Has it been blessed with the healing power to reverse the stone’s poison?”
Now that was a good question. It was in Lazarus’ safe, and I had assumed it was a gift from his father. Surely it held the power to heal, and he had it in case of an emergency. But Lazarus was a conniving bastard, so I wasn’t a hundred-percent sure. Right now though, any odds were better than none.
“Yes,” I guessed. The acid-like burning began to escalate. I could actually feel my insides melting away. “USE IT! PLEASE!” I begged.
“I have to pulverize it and sprinkle it on your wound,” Federo explained. “You must concentrate on boosting its healing power. I know you are hurting, but you must block out the pain. Do you understand?”
“JUST DO IT!” I screamed and nodded briskly.
“What the Hell is that going to do?” Mike yelled.
“You will see,” Federo said with a smack to his back. “And don’t just stand there. Take off your jacket and prop it under her head. Be a gentleman.” One crushing blow with his hand was all it took to crumble the stone. Federo whispered to me, “This is going to sting.”
“It can’t hurt any worse,” I groaned. Straightaway, Mike took a hold of my hand compassionately. Federo started to scatter some of the malachite dust on my wound. Wrong again, I thought as I screamed for what seemed like a solid minute. My insides felt like molten lava being extinguished with a freakin’ blowtorch. My reflexes took hold and I inadvertently clamped down on Mike’s hand.
“SHIT!” Mike screamed. I felt a couple of his fingers break as he wiggled free from my grasp.
Without any warning, a fiery burst of flames shot out of the wound. Luckily, Federo dove out of the blazing streak’s path. He looked too aghast to continue.
“I didn’t do that!” I insisted.
The Amber Talisman bit his lip warily. “She needs all of the powder,” Federo said to Mike and held out his hand. “Here. Your human hands must put the rest on her.”
“ME?” Mike jumped to his feet and pointed to my gut. “Fire just shot out of her belly, dude! ARE YOU CRAZY?”
“Do you want her to DIE?” Federo shouted. “For she will, and you will go to your grave with that black mark on your soul!” Mike shook his head as he knelt down. Federo placed the remaining bits of malachite in his hand.
Mike paused for a moment and then swiftly laid his hands on my wound in a wince. The second round hurt just as bad as the first, but I was too busy pleading to Helio to not let any unexpected flames shoot out. Then I would have two Riverside-deaths weighing on my conscience. I was more stressed over that than I was worried about boosting any of my own power. Lucky for the both of us, my pleas were answered.
Federo hovered at my head while I tried to catch my breath. The malachite seemed to be working. Granted, my insides still scorched like the scalding pavement around a pool on a 100ºF degree day, but at least they weren’t boiling on a stove anymore. Something caught my eye as I laid there, something peeking out from under his shirt — an oval tiger’s-eye bound with a leather cord. I focused on it, trying to shut out the pain. I figured it works all the time for the pregnant women on TV in labor… Why not? Federo followed my gaze and buttoned his shirt hastily.
“When’s the last time you charged that thing?” I said, desperate to get my mind off my current state. “I’ve felt your energy since the outdoor café.”
Federo laughed. “Well, I haven’t had the need to keep it charged. But I see my quiet seaside life now heralds more discretion.” He nodded to my right hand. “I see you are missing yours,” he remarked as he stared at my bare ring finger. “I can feel your power now as well. You must remember to always keep it on.”
“Yeah… I left it up in the room,” I mumbled uneasily. On Tanner’s finger… Right along with my purse.
Federo smiled. “You are well on your way to healing, young one.” He slid out his milky amber dagger as he shifted his stare to Olaf. “Now, there is only one thing left to do.”
I grabbed his arm. “No! You can’t kill him!” I yelled.
“WHY NOT?” both Federo and Mike asked, puzzled.
“Because Malachi will wonder what happened to him…to both of them,” I insisted to Federo. “I think this was Olaf’s doing, not Malachi’s. If I’m right and you kill them, Malachi will want to know why. He sensed my energy the other night, but he didn’t know it was coming from me. Tanner said his stone gives him an extraordinary amount of intelligence. If Malachi suspects Mike in the least, he’ll come after him.”
“That poses a slight problem,” Federo said dryly as he rubbed his chin.
“Hell yeah it does,” Mike huffed.
Federo bent down and passed me a discreet nod aimed at Mike. “How close is this person to you, really?”
“Close enough,” Mike barked, clearly offended by his less-than-subtle suggestion. “And I just helped save her life.”
I nodded to Federo, confirming Mike’s claims, and then looked up at the shaky high-school quarterback. “And because we’re friends… Right?” I posed to him with a hopeful gaze.
Mike looked at his broken fingers and let out a laugh-like grunt. “Yeah. Good friends,” he said with a heartfelt grin.
I smiled back at him, even through my pain, and then laid my head back down. That was all I needed to hear.
“Well then, take Shiloh back up to her suite,” Federo instructed. He draped Mike’s jacket around my shoulders and buttoned it up to conceal my bloody clothes. Federo escorted the other man out of the elevator, and in we went, edging past Olaf. “And tell Kamya to meet me down here. We will figure something out. Tanner too, if he’s able…and hurry.” Federo pulled Olaf out of the way and the elevator doors finally came to a close.
Crap. I’d left without saying anything to Tanner. I had to stop Mike and my amethyst was inside my purse back in the room. Surely he can understand that? Though I didn’t quite know if it was a “good” or “bad” thing that he hadn’t tried to call.
Mike was quiet, borderline lethargic on the ride up to the eighth floor. When the bell dinged and the doors opened, he thanked me and asked if I was going to be okay. I assured him that I would, but when was another story. I could feel my body healing itself from the malachite, but the hole in my gut couldn’t begin to mend until I flushed all the diamond residue out of the wound.
Kamya was coming out of the suite as I made it to the door. She grabbed a hold of my arm and snatched me into the room.
“I’m starting to think I need to stake and hem you in like a goat! Where did you go?” Kamya barked. I opened the jacket and flashed her my bloody clothes. She lifted up my shirt and let out a gasp. “WHAT HAPPENED?” My “chaperone” whirled me around gruffly and checked me like a mother would a child on a playground. “AND WHERE IS FEDERO!?!” she growled.
“I’ll be fine. One of Malachi’s men tried to kill Mike. I kind of stopped him…with my abdomen.”
“Well, that took guts…literally.” Kamya smelled the blood on her fingers. “A malachite,” she winced. “We need—”
“I had a malachite…in my pocket,” I announced. “Federo got it out and broke it for me.” Kamya’s lips parted. She seemed relieved, but her cynicism was still in full-gear. She reached for my pocket. “He didn’t take the red chalcedony,” I assured her. “He put it back. He actually did help me, Kamya.”
Kamya grimaced like she was swallowing a bitter spoonful of medicine. “How noble,” she jeered. “Come.” She led me over to the bed. “Lie down.”
“I was lucky he was there.”
“No. You were very lucky to have had th
at stone,” Kamya countered.
“Even luckier that Kara found it before she left,” I added.
“Where is Saint Federo anyway?” Kamya sneered.
“He’s in the basement. He needs you to come down there. I wouldn’t let him kill Malachi’s men. I think Olaf acted alone.”
“Are you absolutely sure of this?” Kamya questioned skeptically.
“Not entirely, but he wanted to avenge his brother by killing Mike, and besides…If Malachi thought Mike was truly a Talisman, wouldn’t he have killed him himself to claim his stone?”
“Yes,” Tanner called out from behind me. “But this latest mess probably wouldn’t have happened if you had simply done what I’d asked.” My head followed the sound of his voice. There he stood in the doorway of the bathroom, fresh out of his salt-soak, shirtless, sporting a few almost-healed gashes, and still shy one layer of skin. You could tell the way his jeans dipped below his hipbone to reveal a distinct, pale tan line.
“He wants you to come too,” I added with a noticeable flush.
“Go ahead, Kamya. I’ll be down in a second,” Tanner said as he threw on a clean shirt.
Kamya placed a trashcan beside my bed. “You’re going to need this,” she announced and then headed for the door.
“Don’t you need to get dressed?” I posed to Kamya, hoping to prolong my imminent butt-chewing.
Kamya whirled around in the doorway and tightened the tie on her long robe. “I’m not naked!” she stressed and then flitted off down the hall.
Tanner lifted up my shirt and stared at my wound, shaking his head. He slid the moonstone back on my finger.
“You look better,” I said, hoping to butter him up a bit. “Just a little red.”
“Trust me. That’s not from my burns,” Tanner remarked with a wry smile. “Look, Shiloh… Malachi healing you and using one of his stones to reverse the poison’s effects are two totally different things. It will help, but you won’t feel up to speed until it’s all out of your system. It’s not as simple as a cut…or even a burn.” He gave the trashcan a kick. “Consider this your new best-friend.”