Fierce Dawn

by Scott, Amber

  Sadie took Monica’s hand and stood as well.

  “I really am sorry, too,” Monica said, looking away.

  Sadie’s stomach lurched the tiniest bit. “What for?”

  “For scaring you that night. Elijah stopped me. But I promise, I didn’t mean you any real harm.” She tossed her empty bottle to where they’d been sitting. “I have a twisted sense of humor. Maybe I was a little mad that you hadn’t transformed yet. Sucks being like this all by yourself.”

  “I think I’m falling for him,” Sadie confessed, not sure why. Maybe because she knew how monumentally stupid it was to fall for a man who thought their attraction would soon end. Maybe Monica who would say as much and snap Sadie out of it.

  Monica glanced away and nodded. “Yeah. I kind of thought so. I guess it’s a good thing I’m here then.”

  Before Sadie could ask what she meant, Holly returned. More than ever, she wished Elijah would come back. So much for snapping out of it.

  The wish seemed to keep him away. That night, exhausted from sparring, she slept alone in his bed and woke alone there, too. Monica found her for breakfast and Holly resumed her so-called training. Sadie didn’t see how handing her another three random objects counted as much help, though. The hour of her appointment with Dr. Meyers overshadowed every thought. She needed to call Heather, make some excuse. She needed to reschedule the appointment. Yet she sat watching Holly and Monica instead, pretending to concentrate on the shirt in her hands.

  Maybe Elijah wouldn’t be back today at all.

  During a break, she went to Elijah’s room and checked her phone for voicemail. Nothing. Only a text from Jen. “Hope you are having tons of fun. Don’t worry, the warden hasn’t called.”

  Her battery was low. Three o’clock loomed less than two hours away. Sadie ran her thumb over the buttons. She couldn’t go home. Elijah had made that risk clear enough. But she couldn’t cancel the appointment. Not without stirring major sister panic.

  A knock sounded on the door. It was Holly. “Ready?”

  Sadie pocketed the phone. “I need to ask you a favor.”

  Holly crossed her arms. “Alright. What?”

  “If I’m going to be able to remain here, I have to keep up appearances. I need to go to an appointment with my sister today. It’ll take an hour or so.”

  Holly’s lips curled. “Are you asking my permission?”

  No. She needed a ride. “Actually, do you think Elijah will be back before three?”

  Holly tensed. “I wouldn’t know. Lyric hasn’t imaged anything and neither has called. They could be halfway across the world, could have crossed back. I don’t know.”

  Sadie nodded. “Can you give me a ride somewhere, then?” When Holly tensed more, she added, “If it wasn’t important, if I could reschedule, I wouldn’t ask.”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s it for?”

  Should she lie? “My sister and I are meeting with my doctor. If I don’t go….”

  “Well, we don’t need any more complications, now do we?”

  Sadie shook her head. And waited, watching for the woman’s glow-tipped hair to reveal some sign of anger.

  “Astrid is gone. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to leave Monica. Doubt you want to drag her along.” The flames flickered a tiny bit and glowed orange. “Know how to drive a stick?”

  Only once, in a jam. “Yes.”

  Holly shrugged and smiled wide. “Perfect. You can take my car.”

  Recalling Lyric’s version of a motorcycle, Sadie opened her mouth to protest.

  “Don’t worry. It hasn’t been modified, just supped up.”

  Sadie arrived with ten minutes to spare and only ground the Porsche’s gears seven times. God, it felt good to be out of that house, out of contained quarters. The air tasted dusty but fresh in her mouth, and her body seemed more alive than ever. The greens of the leaves, the blue of the endless sky, everything had a new vibrancy, as though she saw life in the world that she couldn’t before. As though she’d been color blind before.

  Part of Sadie worried the difference in her would be obvious to everyone else, too. Thankfully, the receptionist greeted her as dully as always. And no one had gawked at her on the way in. Her confidence in pulling this off climbed.

  “You can go in,” the receptionist said.

  Sadie strode to the double doors. One sat ajar, she realized. Was Heather already in with Dr. Meyers? The hairs on her neck prickled. Inside, Heather waited on the sofa, Dr. Meyers next to her. They saw her and stood.

  “Sadie,” each said, Heather suspiciously sweetly.

  “What’s going on?” Sadie asked.

  “We were talking a moment,” Dr. Meyers said, motioning her forward. “Please, join us.”

  Heather went to the door and closed it. Sadie eyed her usual sofa spot, the spot they’d been in. She took the chair instead. Dr. Meyers retrieved a pad of paper from her desk and took her usual chair. Once Heather sat and several agonizing minutes ticked by, Sadie’s pulse slowed to a trot. She had to remember, they didn’t know anything. They were worried for her. As usual.

  “You didn’t bring a painting with you,” Dr. Meyers said.

  Sadie’s mouth fell open. “Uh, no, I meant to but I completely forgot. Sorry.”

  “Well, I suppose that makes Heather’s surprise a good one for both of us then.”

  “What surprise?” Her neck hairs stood higher.

  Dr. Meyers nodded toward Heather. Sadie almost gagged on her own rabid heartbeat.

  “Don’t be upset, Sadie,” Heather said in a rush. “I came by yesterday while you were at work.” Heather reached between the sofa and wall. “Jen wasn’t home and I found them. I was looking for you and, well, I…I never realized how talented you are.”

  Heather propped up her painting of Elijah. His blue wings were spread in flight, his naked torso gleamed back at her. Sadie wanted to grab the large canvas and flee. She wanted to cover it, hide it from their prying eyes. How could Heather do this? Of all her paintings, this was the last she would ever show Dr. Meyers. Or anyone else.

  “Who is he?” Dr. Meyers quietly asked.

  “Nobody,” Sadie choked out. “It isn’t finished yet.” His wings were different, his skin, his muscle tone.

  “Isn’t this Elijah?” Heather asked. “Your boyfriend?”

  How did she kn—oh, yeah, Heather had met Elijah. She’d forgotten. Sadie slowly nodded, waiting for Dr. Meyers to attack, for the room to crash down around them. More silence.

  “I found one of your journals, too,” Heather said and a single tear streamed down her cheek.

  Why was she crying? Sadie was the one who should be hurt here. And she was. But damn it, Heather’s clogged voice and watery eyes were making her feel guilty for feeling betrayed. Did Heather bring in the journal for Dr. Meyers, too? Had they read it? Did they know her secrets? The meds?

  “Perhaps this is a good time to discuss boundaries,” Dr. Meyers interjected.

  Sadie snorted. “Boundaries? How I don’t have any? How because of a diagnosis, I don’t get to have any? None that anyone respects, anyways.”

  “That’s not fair,” Heather said. “I didn’t intentionally find your paintings and I meant well when I read your journal.” She wiped her cheeks and took a deep breath. “Elijah means a lot more to you than you let on.”

  Sadie refused to discuss this. Elijah was none of Heather’s business. And reading her journal, well intended or not, was inexcusable. She wished she could get up and leave.

  “Heather indicated you were recently sick with the flu, Sadie,” Dr. Meyers said. “She is concerned that you might have stopped taking your medications. Dr. Fox indicated he hasn’t had contact from you.”

  Sadie knew where this was going. “I started taking them again as usual. I meant to call, but I guess I was too scared.” Amazingly, the lies fell easily from her lips. “I don’t want my dosages to go back up. They make me foggy.”

  “Understandab
ly,” Dr. Meyers said. “But your health must come first, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “I guess so.”

  “As you know, maintaining a good balance of your medications is crucial to your stability, your well-being and to your functionality. I know you want to remain functional, Sadie.”

  Play along, anything to avoid sounding alarms. “Absolutely. I didn’t think of it that way. I’ll call him right after our appointment today.”

  Dr. Meyers smiled. “Good. I also think we’d better see him as soon as possible.” By we, Sadie knew Dr. Meyers meant she. Or did she?

  “Okay,” Sadie said, unable to look at her sister or the painting. It needed so much more. His eyes, the black-winged man in the distance behind him. “I’ll make an appointment.”

  “I think you should take this with you,” Heather retrieved the journal from beside her, hidden from view.

  Sadie stomach somersaulted. “Why?”

  “I think he should see this, too.” Heather pulled out another hidden bound book.

  Sadie recognized the flowery, homemade cover immediately. Memories of her mother, frantically scribbling into one of hundreds like it, flashed through her. Her mouth went dry. “Why?”

  “Let me say, I don’t agree with your sister crossing a clear boundary here, Sadie,” Dr. Meyers said. “But I am glad she did. Considering your family history and the recent bout of flu, the stress of a possible romantic relationship can be enough to tip the scales, so to speak.” Dr. Meyers swept her hand as she spoke. Nice, slow, calming motions. “I think it’s best to see Dr. Fox today. He can begin to adjust your regimen, evaluate you. Our goal here is to keep you functional for as long as possible.”

  Images of needles and numbness filled her head. She didn’t need to know why the journals looked relevant, she could guess. Dreams and prophecies and more? Word salad? At one level, she was hopeful. If the words on the page made little sense, then neither of them knew much. They didn’t know about the dreams, about the secret messages she never could decipher.

  An odd awareness tingled her brain. Deciphering? What were those messages again?

  “Heather arrived early, and together, we decided to call Dr. Fox. He can see you at four.” Dr. Meyers didn’t have her usual pen and pad. “Heather can take you there after our visit. In fact, if you’re willing, we can end today’s session now so you can get to his office early. I’m sure you can agree, the sooner we get you stable, the better. After all, you’ve made excellent progress. You’ve begun dating, isn’t that so?”

  Sadie blinked. “Yes. Two dates. He’s nice.” How was she going to get out of this? It wasn’t as though she could refuse. ‘Thanks, but no thanks wouldn’t fly. It’d earn her a hospitalization. “We can end early.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Heather nodded, her chin puckered.

  They left. Sadie’s pulse jammed. Heather pointed to where her parked car. She had to do something. Anything. “What if I make sense now?”

  “I’m sorry?” Heather said.

  “What if I write something now, if it makes sense, now that I’ve resumed taking my meds, what would that mean?”

  “Sadie these entries cannot be from when you got the flu,” Heather said softly.

  “Okay. Maybe you’re right.” She could not go to Dr. Fox. He would give her a shot. Who knew what an antipsychotic would do to her transformation? Whatever Elijah believed, she had to think the change was not yet complete. “But I’d still like to know. Would it mean you’d believe me? Trust me?”

  Heather’s hands smacked her thighs. “Fine. Go ahead. But it doesn’t prove anything.”

  She had to get back to Elijah, even if he wasn’t there yet. “It will prove I’m okay. You can compare the handwriting. My brain is functioning normally now, my meds are working.”

  Heather handed her both journals. Sadie sat inside the car, her feet still on the pavement. Agitation emanated off Heather like steam. The pen shook in her hand as she found the first blank page. She pressed the ballpoint to the page and wrote: I am not crazy. I do not need to see Dr. Fox. Let’s go get ice cream instead!

  Heather took the journal and read. She rolled her eyes. “Ice cream? Sadie, if you’re not going to take this seriously….”

  “See? I’m okay. I don’t know why the other entries are a mess. I was sick. Feverish. But I do know this. I am fine now. Today, I’m alright.”

  “If you’re fine, then seeing Dr. Fox shouldn’t be a big deal.”

  She couldn’t risk it. How often had her wishes been ignored before? Crazy people had no real voice. “You’re right. It shouldn’t. If I didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d go.”

  Heather crossed her arms. “You’re being manipulative and paranoid, Sadie, and we both know that it’s symptomatic. If I have to go back in there and get Dr. Meyers’ help right now, I will.”

  Sadie stood. “I don’t want to get ugly, Heather.”

  “Then don’t. Come with me now.” Heather’s chin trembled. “Please.”

  Remorse poured through Sadie. She hugged the journals. This was going to hurt like hell. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. I’m going to ask you to trust me.”

  “You know I wish I could. But I can’t let you go.”

  Sadie pulled away as her sister reached out. “I’ll call you Monday.” She turned and sprinted toward Holly’s car, glad it wasn’t far. She fumbled the keys into the ignition, seeing Heather running to the office in her rearview mirror. The tires squealed as she pulled out. All she could think was to leave, fast, before Heather got Dr. Meyers or anyone else inside, before someone could write down the plate number. The light changed to red as Sadie sped through. The freeway entrance stood ahead. She followed it and two miles later, swiped a hand over her face.

  She had either saved her new life or had completely destroyed it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Chapter Twenty

  Dawn drenched the St. Louis sky in pale gold. Elijah couldn’t stop thinking about Sadie. Two days away, he should be feeling less pressure to go back, to see her. Not more.

  “Like a moth to a flame, eh, my friend?” Lyric said.

  “Not quite,” Elijah said. The warehouse district they perched above smelled like cold garbage.

  “A bee to a clover?” Lyric added with not a drip of sympathy.

  Leave it to Lyric to find Elijah’s downfall funny. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “As if I wouldn’t have guessed.” Lyric straightened and paced the tarred rooftop. “You’re wearing a lot more than your heart on your sleeve, Elijah. That girl’s on every inch of you.”

  “Let’s focus on locating Charity, shall we?” Transporting the two of them to three cities had pummeled his energy. And his mind. Maybe that’s why he was having so much trouble focusing. He needed rest. He longed to return to her. And that meant he needed to stay away. If he stayed away long enough, the last threads of Sadie’s change would complete and at least one of them would be sane again. “If she isn’t here, where do we search next?”

  “If she isn’t here, I honestly can’t say where we could try next. Find someone who knows? One of her flock?”

  Elijah shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  The single interrogation they’d performed so far had been useless. Try as he might, Lyric had struggled with feeding and extracting information from the Arizona pastor. What if it had been an immortal’s mind they’d been trying to filter information from? Would it go better? Worse? Or had blood use damaged Lyric’s abilities? Elijah should have considered as much. And he found himself unable to blame Lyric now. He’d begun to wonder if Crusoe wanted to be found. What if he wasn’t alive? What then?

  “I feel like we’re chasing circles.”

  Lyric nodded. “We’ll go back then. Without Holly here, we’re handicapped anyway. Maybe if we talk to Holly, she’ll remember something more than I do.”

  “I hate leaving empty handed.”

  “You and I both. But hey, we’re here now. Maybe our
luck will turn.”

  Elijah nodded half-heartedly. Too bad he knew Lyric believed a man made his own luck.

  The sun shone bright and the city began to stir. Charity preferred her emotional fix with a desperate flavor. The Spirit of Joy Church of Christ would soon open its doors for a Saturday morning service. The industrial location spoke of the human bend that would prefer a location like it. As did the parishioners as they arrived.

  Hard lives. The ruddy-faced alcoholics, the grayish-skinned smokers. Heroin addicts with eyes so bleak, Elijah cringed. These people had faced demons and pain all their lives. Feeders and humans alike sucked their will and their self-respect and sadly, only the rarity would break free and find an unburdened life.

  “You don’t need to feel ashamed for them.” Lyric held his gaze. “I can tell you with perfect confidence that a man lives by his choices. They do.”

  Elijah looked away. He didn’t want to talk about where Lyric had been or why he could say such a thing. “It’s not pity that I feel when I see them.” More like revulsion. He hated that Lyric had fed off this kind of human.

  “The world is not black and white, Elijah. It’s gray. And like it or not, for every saint there must be a sinner.”

  The throng below grew to ten or so. Some smoked, some paced, watching their feet like children.

  “Don’t patronize me, Lyric. I know how the world works.” It didn’t mean he had to like it or that he shouldn’t expect better of those he chose to call family.

  “Look at it this way, maybe I was meant to go to the proverbial dark side. Having endured my absence, having become enamored with you, Charity might lead us to Crusoe.”

  What if Charity and her feeders had been following Monica, not to locate Sadie, but to locate him? “Crusoe wouldn’t be missing at all if not for us.”

  “No thanks to me. More than a century hunting together, I never thought I’d find myself suddenly desperately in love with Holly, of all immortals, never mind that Crusoe would be as well.” The wind shifted along with Lyric’s usual casual tone. “We can’t go back, but if the last four days are any indication, we still make a good team. Once this is over, and I truly believe it will soon be, we can…”