“Actually, I came to see you. May I come in?” Solana asked.
He blinked at her, rendered stupid for a moment by the cocktail of codeine and sleeping pills. His blood ran cold all of a sudden. “Why? Is there something wrong? Should I have gone with her to see the specialist? Oh fuck…”
He fumbled for his keys, taking the chain off the door. Tonka leapt up and put his small white paws on Solana’s knees. His tail flicked from side to side like a metronome. Solana patted Tonka’s head and rubbed his unchewed ear with an affectionate smile.
“Nothing is wrong with your mother, Mari. She’s doing very well. The fact that you haven’t noticed is what’s concerning to me. That, and you’re high as a kite in the middle of the day.”
Mari glared at her for a moment, caught between annoyance and guilt for the fact that it was true. He had been so wrapped up in himself that he’d barely paid Mama any heed at all the last couple of weeks—and because that was her way, she hadn’t even chided him for it, using her gentle digs about his stuttering relationship with Jake as a lever to get him to open up instead.
“I’m not high. I’m just tired,” he countered as she and Tonka followed him through to the day room. “I have a very stressful job.”
“Which you currently aren’t doing,” was her pithy response.
Mari suppressed the urge to swear.
“Do you and my mother spend your entire therapy session discussing me?” he asked instead, switching on the kettle because it was clear that Solana was not about to leave in a huff, and he might sometimes be rude, but he had been raised to be hospitable.
“Not always,” Solana said, sliding onto one of the bar stools across the countertop from him, “just when she’s worried about you. She amazes me with her determination, your mother. The progress she’s made in the short time I’ve been seeing her is extraordinary. I would not be surprised if we will be able to end our sessions in less than half the time I initially thought.”
Mari blinked at her, lost for words, though not for long. “You believe that she’s getting better? For real?” He amended that at once because it sounded impolite and he had promised Jake that he would not be rude to her. “That’s…incredible. I don’t… I don’t think anyone would have fought for a cure as hard as she has. She’s never given up hope.”
He poured water over the tea to hide the fact that he was mildly embarrassed to be caught gushing about his mother to a virtual stranger. It must have been the drugs, loosening his tongue like that.
“It’s still too early to say that, but she’s stronger. We’ll have to see what the tests say about her blood count. Eventually the scans will either confirm the cancer has left her or not, and you’ll have your answer as to whether I’m a fraud. I’m not, by the way. I know you won’t believe that, yet, but…I wish you would, so that I could help you.” Solana accepted the tea cup Mari passed to her and took a delicate sip. “Thank you.”
“I don’t need your help, thank you very much,” he said, watching the quiet grace of her movement. Once, he might have envied her that fluidity and confidence. He wasn’t so sure anymore. Until recently, he would have said that he was happy as he was.
Solana lifted her eyes from the tea to look at him and Mari refused to drop his own gaze, though he wanted to more than anything.
“You haven’t told Annabel what happened, and I understand you not wishing to worry her more than necessary, but she is well aware that something is bothering you. I don’t believe she suspects how badly hurt you were, though.”
Shameful heat rose to his cheeks but, even so, he did not look away.
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. There is nothing wrong with me. My mother worries too much.”
Her expression did not change but he still knew she wasn’t convinced. Lowering his eyes, Mari laced his fingers around the glass mug in his hands. He suppressed the urge to shudder at the memories he had struggled hard to just file away and forget about for the last couple of weeks. For some peculiar reason, he found himself thinking of the case he and Jake had dealt with before the Cemetery Rapist. One of their suspects, Ed, had been a Water Elemental who’d professed to be able to read auras, like Solana. Some of the things he’d said about Mari had been dangerously accurate.
In that instant, he wanted to chase her out of the house and lock all the doors. But he held still and stared into the golden pool of his teacup instead.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with you. I said you’ve been hurt by someone. You might be able to hide this from your mother, but I can see the damage that was done. It is as if you were standing in front of me with open wounds still bleeding.” She said this in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone, pausing to take another sip of her tea. “In all honesty, I came here today to ask you to resolve whatever anger issues you are having with your mother because it was upsetting Anni, but the moment you opened the door, that ceased to be my concern. Your aura is… I’ve helped people recover from very bad situations with their partners. Your aura is currently the same. Did Jake hurt you?”
A surge of bile rose to the back of his throat as her words sank in and he took a gulp from his cup to keep himself from being sick. At first, he misunderstood what she was trying to say, and when he caught on, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to deny first.
“No… That’s ridiculous. Jake would never— He’s never laid a hand on me. I mean, well, obviously he has but he would never hurt me!” he blurted out, unable to quell the trembling in his hands. He put the mug down before he dropped it and pressed his palms flat to the counter to keep them still.
“Good. I’m glad. He seemed a very honest and loyal person when I met him. I’d hate to think that had changed. Does Jake know that you were…assaulted?”
Mari drew in a breath, but before he could unleash another protest, Solana held up her hand to stop him. “I know something happened to you. I know it, Mari. You saying otherwise won’t change that.” Her words were quiet and intense, not hysterical in the least. “If you won’t accept my help, at least see someone else. Please. There were shadows of an old pain around you before but nothing like this. The hurt in you is massive, and if you ignore it for very much longer, it will grow to hurt everyone around you as well.”
He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to tell her she was a fool then throw her out and never speak to anyone about this ever again, but he was a creature of logic and he knew that she was right about one thing. Deep down, below the calming fuzz of the tranquilizers, he was hurt and angry, and that anger had been taken out on those he loved because he had no other outlets for it. He hated himself for that, but he didn’t understand what else to do with the rage boiling inside him. It was like a volcano, bubbling up from the core of his being, threatening to erupt.
“Tell me what you can see. Exactly what?” he asked, breathless and lightheaded from the pressure rising inside him. “And… I need to know. Will there be other people out there that can see the same thing?”
“When people talk about auras, most often they describe them as halos of light and color. I can’t tell you whether other people that claim to see them are speaking the truth because I can’t see through their eyes. I can tell you I don’t see the things that they seem to. To me, when I look at a person in a certain way, I see an image of them over the top of their physical body. Almost like a camera trick, the way a ghost looks in a movie, only very close to them, like a pale shadow. The expression your aura wears looks like anguish, pain, anger. Instead of the coloring of your own physical body, it looks gray—in places black—where you are holding the most pain.”
She stopped speaking for a moment and this time it was Solana that wouldn’t meet his eye. He thought again of Ed, who had told him that when people truly wished to end their pain, their auras turned black. Suddenly he found it hard to breathe.
“I don’t wish to traumatize you more, but I think if I don’t tell you all of what I see, you won’t believe me. I know that you were handled with violence…sexual vio
lence. There are dark-red handprints on your aura, some formed into claws, that move in a perverse way. I’ve always thought that when survivors of such attacks talk about how they can sometimes still feel or smell their attacker, this is what they are experiencing.”
Mari shuddered again because he understood exactly what she was describing. Some nights he jerked awake with such a violent start that he imagined, just for a moment, he had dreamed everything that had happened since he had been steered down the corridor into Tomas Arregui’s bedroom. He’d woken from dreams so real that he’d actually believed for a short while that he was still a prisoner in his own body on that bed. And he could not separate the present from the past. Sometimes in his nightmares he was no more than a child, neither a boy nor a girl—torn between the two, not knowing which truth to cling to. And Tomas loomed large in those dreams, always laughing or sneering, reminding him that he was never enough.
Then, in his most private moments, he’d buried his face deep in the pillow and cried in breathless silence until he had put sufficient distance between himself and his memories.
Solana was right. He was hurting. His body still ached and protested from the abduction, the nightmare of burial and whatever had preceded it—memories that he had blocked and buried with such determination. But the pain ran deeper than the stresses of his physical body.
“It’s true. I can still smell him. I still feel his hands on me,” he said, almost inaudible, lost in the memory. “I wash and wash until I’m raw but I still feel it. It won’t let go. I had blood tests and I’m not infected, I’m not sick, but he still left me with something that I can’t get rid of. I can’t get clean of him.” His voice shook and he turned away, refusing to shed tears in front of her.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Solana said in a soft, low voice that was almost a whisper. “I can help you, if you let me. I can help more than the pills you are taking. I won’t touch you. I won’t crowd you, I promise, but only if you allow it.”
“What can you do? Can you make it go away? Because I’m trying. I try so hard to wish it away but it won’t let go of me.” This time he broke and fled, but he halted by the French doors, where he pressed his hands and his forehead to the sunlit glass. His tears, when they came, fell in silence and he did not turn to face her until he had them in check, though he still rubbed at his eyes with both hands. “Damn it! I’m not a woman and I can’t be a man. What am I supposed to be?”
“If by that you mean you can’t force yourself into typical male stereotypes like not crying when you are in pain, I’d say that’s a good thing. Gender doesn’t have to be black and white, Mari. Yes, male and female have their obvious differences, but not so much as some people would like to believe. We are certainly more similar than different.” Solana looked at him with curious eyes. “And no, I can’t change the past for you or make it all go away like magic. I can ease the pain, though, and allow your heart and head to clear enough that you can start to heal yourself. That’s what I can do for you, if and when you choose it.”
Mari leaned there for a moment against the doors. He was exhausted, tired of running and trying to hide from his mistakes.
“I need that to happen,” he said at last. “I have to move forward. There is no other feasible alternative. I just don’t know how. Promise me that you will not talk about this to my mother. I don’t ever want her to find out.”
“I won’t discuss anything that is said between us with anyone, unless you give permission. You have my absolute word of honor on that. I will ask you once more, though, before we begin. Did you tell Jake what happened?”
Mari chewed on his lower lip but inclined his head in affirmation. “Not the details,” he said, “but he understands that I was drugged and what happened after. We haven’t talked about it. But yes, he is aware.”
“Good, that will make things marginally easier for you. You won’t have to get over the hurdle of telling him, at least. Do you still want Jake to be a part of your life?”
Tears welled up in him again at the thought of a life that didn’t include Jake. He guessed that was his answer. Mute, he nodded. It took several long breaths to get his voice under control. “If he still wants me to be a part of his.”
“Well, I don’t know him well enough to speak for him, but he didn’t strike me as a monster. He seemed to care deeply for you, so my guess would be that he still very much wants you and is probably wondering how he can make you understand that without you feeling worse. But that’s just a guess.” Solana bestowed a kind smile on him. “Would you like to start our first session today?”
Mari looked at the clock. It was still only few minutes after twelve and his mother would not be home for ages yet.
“How much is this going to cost me?” he asked, taking refuge in the practicalities.
Solana folded her hands on the worktop, seeming to think for a moment. “One recommendation,” she said at last.
He blinked, perplexed. “One… I’m sorry? I don’t understand. What?”
“Once we’ve finished our sessions together, if—and only if—you feel that I’ve helped you, I’d like you to recommend my services to someone of your choosing, should the opportunity ever present itself.”
Mari was still waiting for the catch, and when it didn’t come, he was left bemused. “That’s all? You want me to big you up to someone else? You don’t want money?” he asked with some skepticism.
Solana uttered a soft ripple of laughter. “I don’t want you to ‘big me up’ to anyone. If you ever come across a person whom you genuinely believe could be helped by my services, I want you to give them my name and number. That’s all.”
“That’s it?” he asked again, wondering if this was not another nightmare after all. He waited for her to peel off a mask, revealing that she had been Tomas all along, then laughing as he crumpled to the ground.
She just smiled at him. Her expression was very warm and sincere. He wondered that he he’d never noticed that before, then figured out he’d always been searching her for an ulterior motive in the past. Maybe Jake was right. He did let his overactive imagination cloud his judgement at times.
“That’s it. Yes,” she said at last. “Do we have a deal?”
“Um… Okay. I guess.” Mari nodded acceptance, oddly humbled by the offer.
“All right. Let’s start. First, please make yourself as comfortable as you are able. Sit wherever you feel best and tell me where you would like me to sit as well. We’ll go from there.”
Mari took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa. If this worked, there was nothing lost. If it didn’t… Well, he would need to take each day at a time. After a few moments, Tonka came and sat at his feet, resting his muzzle on Mari’s knee, the first time he had done so since before the attack. Mari fondled his ears and gave him a genuine smile.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Six months later
The Vault was a popular watering hole and was never totally dead, but a Tuesday night was about as quiet as it got. Jake and Cordiline sat in relative peace at the end of the bar, enjoying a beer. How Cordiline had managed to talk his coworkers into coming here for the celebration of his promotion Jake didn’t know and didn’t ask. They all seemed to be having a good time anyway, and Manny didn’t mind playing host for the boys in blue, some of whom were ‘really hot’, according to him, even if they were straight.
Jake wasn’t in much of a celebratory mood but he’d gone anyway, because John had asked him to. The way he’d worded it implied that he believed his work with Jake on the Cemetery Rapist case was at least in part responsible for his promotion. Manny hovered over the two of them like a big Fairy Godmother with a hairy chest and leather pants.
“It’s a bit full-on down here, innit?” Cordiline said into Jake’s ear during a lull in Manny’s ongoing tale of Jake’s voyage from greenhorn-newbie-guy upstairs to much loved bar regular. “He’s definitely got the hots for you. He lit right up when he figured you didn’t have the boyfr
iend in tow tonight. Speaking of which… How’s things with you and the doctor? He’s still refusing to press charges against Arregui, I hear.”
“You know how it is, John, and so does Mari. He understands what he’d have to go through, and he decided it wasn’t worth it. He said to tell you congratulations, by the way. He wasn’t quite up to a night out.” Jake took a swallow of beer.
Cordiline’s expression mellowed, his gaze never quite leaving Jake’s face. “You two are all right, though? You seem a bit down tonight. And I’m not fishing, before you throw that back in my face. I don’t like to see you unhappy. You deserve… Well, I’ve already told you what I think you deserve.” The freshly appointed DCI of the brand new North London Extraordinary Crimes Division took a swig from his glass and tipped it toward Manny with a nod of gratitude. “Nice pint, mate. Thanks for the tip.”
“Any time, sir. I’ve got lots of tips if you want ’em.” Manny shot him a hopeful look and wiped the same immaculate spot he’d been polishing for a half hour. He wandered down the bar when someone called and Jake noted the extra swing in his step.
“I don’t think it’s me Manny’s got the hots for.”
John’s eyes widened for an instant. He covered a short bark of uncomfortable laughter with another slurp of his beer.
“Not my type, Chivis. Decent bloke, though. And you didn’t answer the question.” He pointed a finger at Jake.
“He’s working through some stuff and that takes some time.” Jake shrugged. “And how can you be sure Manny’s not your type? You’re basing that on looks alone. Maybe he’s exactly what you need.”
John glanced across at their ever-optimistic bartender and found the fellow looking their way again. He raised his glass in acknowledgment and Manny beamed.
“Too needy,” he murmured, leaning in to Jake to be heard above the general chatter and music in the bar. “I don’t do ‘needy’.”
“He’s just trying to catch your eye. You’re a hard man,” Jake chided. “He’s a good, down-to-earth guy, when you chill out and talk to him.”
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