by Dale Mayer
Chapter 30
She couldn’t still the shakiness inside. Dean had been flicking through the folder since she’d told him it was on her. Every once in a while she’d look over at him worried at what he’d see. She’d lived it. Did she really want to read about it? Then again, these notes and documents were from others. Their impressions, perceptions. Not hers.
Did she really want to not know how they felt about her? How she’d responded. The results they’d formulated. Was it normal to want to step back and completely miss out on learning more? Just because she’d had a horrible time there? No. That was just stupid.
“Damn it.” She plunked down beside him and snatched up the beginning part of the file he’d already skimmed through. She caught his concerned gaze and said, “I need to know.”
He nodded and shifted the file so it was between them.
She went through the intake form, noting she’d been twelve on the day she’d arrived. Shitty day. Still, there were no notes on her condition or mental state. She flicked through the first couple of pages and read the cold institutionalized type of information. No dietary restrictions. Not yet in puberty. No physical issues. No allergies.
Dropping the first pages, she snagged up the next set. There were initial notes from Wilhelm on her mental health and parental concerns. “Nonconforming. Belligerent. Willful.” She snorted. “What did they expect when they yelled at me to stop all the time? Stop what, for heaven sake? It’s not like I was having an easy time of it.”
Dean reached across and grasped her hand. He squeezed gently but didn’t lift his head from the paper he was reading. “I got the impression he started with the intention of helping you, but somewhere along the line he became fascinated.”
“Exactly. I’d already been through every doctor in town. In fact,” she thought back, “I guess they did try.”
“Until your parents found Wilhelm. But why would they have walked away at that point?” Dean’s tone was harsh. “Even if you had been found to have mental health issues, surely walking away wasn’t a good answer for someone in that situation.”
“My brother,” she said pensively.
He turned to look at her. “Sorry?”
“My brother came along. And I think they figured they had a second chance, but if he picked up any of the same traits, they’d lose him too. So they cut all ties.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s fear,” she corrected quietly. “If all they wanted was a normal family but got a freak first time out and a perfect example the second time around, many people would ditch the first one and try to wipe the stain out of their lives permanently.”
“They aren’t parents then. You can’t collect perfect specimens to have in your family. Your children are a gift – with all the challenges and joys inherent in giving birth.”
She liked him better all the time. Actually, she’d gone past like to something so much more. She just didn’t know how much more. But damn he was good looking, alpha male, protective and caring. He was a damn good father to his son and a caring son to his mother. Tia doubted his partner would receive any different treatment.
“We see it happening all over the world,” she said.
“We do,” he said. “But that doesn’t make it right.”
She laughed. Then her smile fell away as her gaze landed on the sheet titled Initial Assessment. And the paragraph Wilhelm had written.
Patient is obsessed with having paranormal abilities. She believes these are factual conditions and is unwilling to consider that such phenomena might be brought into existence by her mental state. Treatment will need to include counseling, drugs and therapy.
“Nice. All three prongs.” He shook his head. “Remember you survived. He didn’t.”
“I’d feel better if we knew for sure he was dead. Everyone says he is but…”
“According to everything we can find, he died just before you left and was cremated.”
“Figures.” She snorted and flicked through the pages. “Here are the drug treatments he used. Nice. I wonder how many ill effects I’ll have over the years from drugs I never even knew I was being given.”
“Too many. Most of these drugs weren’t likely even tested on people with your condition.”
“What condition?” she muttered.
“Exactly.” He glanced over at the sheet. “Maybe keep that one out for your own personal history in case problems do develop further down the road. Just to see if something might show up and you need to know what you were given.”
“Nice thought. Not.”
“Better to never need it than to wonder later.”
He was right but it still sucked.
“It’s obvious his attitude changed about,” he shifted pages, “nine months after you arrived. Then he started to realize you weren’t faking it.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “I had been very sick. Some kind of flu and strep throat. I wasn’t responding to his medicines, and my body was under a lot of stress. I didn’t want to be there. I wanted my mother, and he made it very clear that was never going to happen again.” She ran her hands through her hair and added, “I went off the wall for a little while. I think that’s the first time – likely lining up with the onset of puberty just to add to the tough physical conditions my system was going through – my body started doing weird things.”
At Dean’s raised eyebrows, she said, “Like you’ve seen a little of, but in a more minor way. My fingers would just not show up. Then they’d come back and my big toe would disappear. At that point, with him being able to see and touch the evidence, he became a complete convert. It was like night and day. Of course it took time and lots of testing. That’s also when the focus on his research changed. He’d always been looking into the paranormal but not the physical anomalies I was presenting. He was looking for signs of psychometry, telekinesis, telepathy, etc.”
“So he’d never seen anything like you before.”
“Or since,” she said honestly. “Apparently I was unique.”
“And all these other people?”
“I don’t know about the ones who were there when I arrived, but as far back as I can remember they were all supposed to have some kind of ability. If they did or not I don’t know. Wilhelm started to get fanatical then he got angry and downright weird. I don’t know when sanity turned to insanity.” She hated to remember but there was no putting those back in the box. “I doubt anyone but the staff who worked with him for a long time would have seen his mental decline either.”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“And those of us who were there long term.” She shrugged. “Then again for the last many months I was alone. Or as far as I knew I was alone.” She stood up, hating the closeness of the memories. The power behind the words. “Do you have any coffee?”
“How about a glass of wine instead?” he asked, standing up and walking to the wine rack on the side counter. “It’s late for coffee.”
“I hate wine. But hell, I’m not going to sleep anyway,” she muttered, throwing out a hand at the folders. “This is enough to keep me awake forever.”
“Hey.” He walked back toward her, a bottle of red wine in his hand. “Don’t let it get to you. Remember, you beat this.”
“I’ve beaten nothing.” She snorted. “I’m a fugitive from some asshole connected to the place of hell I was forced to exist in for way too long. I’ve managed to put your entire family in danger, and I’m sitting here unable to do much in my life at all. I’d wanted to get an education at some point, I wanted a normal life and I tried it for many years, but I can’t have that because I don’t know what that is.”
“But you can find out. We will fix this. You will have a future and one that you created for yourself, not the one you were forced to live.” He opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses of the deep red liquid. “Here, have this. It will help you sleep.”
She doubted it, but she accepted the glass and took a sip. Ins
tantly a deep dark dryness filled her mouth as the heady aroma filled her nose, surprising her. “Mmm, that’s lovely.”
“Not too dry?” he asked, carrying his glass over to the couch. He patted the space beside him. “Come and sit and relax. The paperwork isn’t going anywhere.”
“I wish it would,” she muttered.
He laughed. “That’s why we went there, isn’t it?”
“No. We were supposed to get information on the others and instead found out most of them had died.”
“We don’t know that most died, we think we know that some died. We don’t know that they might not have been part of an earlier study and potentially were all close to death to begin with.”
“I hate to say that makes me feel better, but…it does.” Her smile was lopsided as she sat down beside him. “I don’t know why I said that about not being able to sleep because I am tired. But it’s more a physical fatigue whereas my mind is crazy busy. I need to shut it down.”
“Have another to help you relax.” He opened his arm and waited until she leaned closer before wrapping it around her shoulder. From the shelter of his arms she studied him. This wasn’t something she’d done before. But she’d gone into his arms naturally. How did that work? It seemed right somehow, although she didn’t know him very well.
Then again, what she did know…
He pulled her closer. Surely he could hear her heart pounding. It was all she could hear.
Until the sounds of his heart filtered through.
And the heat of his body.
It was nice.
Cozy.
Caring. She could get used to this. He reached over, took her glass and placed it on a small table by the couch. She tracked it with her eyes but didn’t care enough to protest. In truth she was cold and tired and any effort was proving to be too much. Besides, she was comfortable. Who’d want to move?
She’d close her eyes for a few moments. Just rest a little.
*
He knew the exact moment she relaxed. Her body went limp, her arm she’d held close to her chest slid down to his thigh. He shifted back on the couch, moving her slightly into a more comfortable position. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up with a kink in her neck. She was exhausted, but it was the strain of going to the building, visiting her past rather than a lack of sleep. The bags under her eyes had deepened since they’d made it home. He’d been looking for a way to suggest she go to bed but knew she was too wired to listen.
And the folders hadn’t helped. He’d actually brought over the one beside him so he could read further while she slept – if she slept. Now that she’d knocked out, he awkwardly shifted the folder to his lap and flipped it open again.
He didn’t even know what to say to the information in here. She’d lived a cold loveless life so far and seeing the details – laid out like that in black and white – made it so much worse.
What was obvious was Wilhelm’s fascination with Tia. Right from the beginning. But once he understood she was the real deal, it was like there’d almost been a love affair going on. Hopefully not sexual because that was going to be more than he could deal with. She’d been tortured enough with the shit he’d put her through, and Dean had seen too many cases where sexual activity happened all too often in institutions. Not that it was rape in the most common belief of the world, but more that the person wasn’t free to make a choice, often didn’t understand the choice and sometimes participated out of fear or as a way to curry favors to make the situation livable.
So far there’d never been any mention of such a thing. He hoped she felt capable of telling him if there had been.
As he flicked through the pages of treatments and notations regarding the reason why each failed, he had to wonder who cared about Tia’s whereabouts now. Unless they knew about her abilities, believed in her abilities, and thought she’d be of some use. And what drove people to do something like this? Money, sex, power were the usual suspects. If someone knew what she could do, in theory they might be able to make money off of her – or with her. He had to consider that with a criminal partner Tia could make a killing in corporate espionage. As far as power went, he wracked his mind thinking about what she could do for someone – it usually came back to her ability to go invisible and steal information. Political information. She’d help someone go a long way if she’d do that. Not that she would. At least not willingly.
So they’d have to have leverage to force her. Someone like Simone. But then they’d had Dean’s own son. And they hadn’t asked anything of her. Or him. Not that anyone had given the asshole time. He dropped his head back and groaned silently. This was all bullshit.
There had to be a reason for taking his son. As a message it was clear. “We can get him – anyone – any time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
But why?
He closed his eyes, hating to feel the same confusion he assumed Tia felt as she went around and around this bloody business. Honestly it might have nothing to do with her years at the institute.
He checked his phone. Still nothing from Jones. Damn. He sent him a quick text. “Update?”
The response was immediate.
“Reports on seven of those people so far.” Next text came in. “All confirmed dead. All had drugs in their system. All had pre-existing medical conditions. Cause of death is stated as undetermined in each and every case.”
Dean raised his gaze to stare around his living room. That was not good. Drugs for what? Knock them out. Keep them relaxed? Numb them to pain. None were good options. Particularly with this energy bullshit.
He dropped his phone, laid his head back down again and closed his eyes. It wouldn’t hurt if he relaxed for a few moments himself. Not to sleep, just to rest.
He didn’t know how long it was, but an odd rustling sound had him opening his eyes. He stilled, glanced down at Tia, realized she was still sound asleep. The odd sound came again. He turned to the front door to see the doorknob turning.
The door pushed open.
A gloved hand was all he saw before a sudden movement, a bright flash and the room completely disappeared in a brilliant flash.
Chapter 31
Tia reacted instantly.
She didn’t know what woke her, but the flashing bright light was already registered in her brain, her mind and body already following through. She didn’t need to be told twice. She woke in Dean’s arms, her hand in his, luminescent green flashing through the room.
“What the hell,” Dean said, trying to move but he couldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. “Stop. He can’t see you.”
Dean froze, looked at their joined hands then at the living room in a green light. “Did you make the lights? What the hell is going on?”
“I’m thinking that someone tried to come in the front door,” she said, standing up but keeping a tight hand on his. “And ran into Stefan’s security system.”
“Stefan’s security system? So you didn’t do this?”
She shook her head. “Hell no. This is beyond me.”
No, it’s not. You just don’t know how yet.
She froze. And spun around, looking all around her. Stefan, is that you?
Yes. My senses were disturbed when the alarm went off.
She shook her head, stunned. Damn. She could feel Stefan inside her mind. “That’s so personal.”
Beside her Dean studied her face. “Say what?”
She groaned. “Thanks, Stefan, for making me odder than ever.”
You’ll get used to this – eventually. A ghostly laugh rippled through her mind. Are you both okay?
She glanced around at Dean. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
Did you see the intruder?
“No I didn’t. Dean,” she turned to stare at Dean. “Stefan wants to know if you saw the guy.”
“No, I had just dozed off.”
She nodded. “No, Stef–”
I heard.
That was going to take some getting used to as well.
Telepathy was one thing but Stefan could not only talk in her head, he could also use her ears to hear. How could that be?
Don’t worry about it.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
Dean is already calling the cops.
Once again she turned to face Dean to see his cell phone out and held it his ear. “Jesus, you’re good.”
Easy. You can do it, too.
She snorted. “Sure I can.”
You can, you know.
She shrugged. “Maybe I’ve seen worse.
Of course you have. I heard about his program, you know. I was even there once to try and figure out what was going on. I found you alone. I helped guide you out of there.
“What? Really? That was you?” Well, that explained her “ghostly” escape.
“Hmmhmm. A parent asked me to check it out as she’d been contacted about having her son attend.”
“Maybe it was after Wilhelm died?”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out because the letter she received had his signature on it.”
“Or someone had forged it or more likely had stamped it with his signature stamp. It’s easy enough to whiteout any unwanted ink on the signature line and run it through a copier to get a clean copy. Some of the stamps look original.”
Who ran the place after Wilhelm?
“No idea. That’s when I thought I’d been left alone. I don’t know how long between his death and my escape as I was isolated for most of it.”
There should have been something set up in case of his death.
“This man wasn’t normal at the end. If he thought there was a way to avoid dying and losing his life’s work he’d have tried anything. Hell, he was taking our blood and trying to inject himself with it.”
What?
“Yeah.” She gave a twisted laugh. “He was that kind of crazy at the end. He’d become a groupie, wanting to be like us, but he wasn’t.”
Bizarre.
But she could hear his mind humming away in the background. Not just his thoughts but his thought processes. She’d spoken this way with him several times already but hadn’t noticed the fine nuances in the experience. Why now? Why like this?