by Ford, Lizzy
“So that really happened?” Kaylee asked. She checked out her bandages, unable to see the damage beneath thick white gauze.
“About that.” He rested a hand on her thigh absently, frowning. “What happened? I checked the surveillance video, and there’s a weird gap.”
Kaylee hesitated. What did she say? That Amira had seen the Shadowman, had a conversation with him then tried to kill her?
That she had seen the Shadowman?
“I don’t know,” Kaylee said finally. “She was talking to like, someone who wasn’t there then she stabbed me.”
“We didn’t have her pegged for the violent kind at all.” Evan was puzzled. “She’s been docile and gentle since arriving a few weeks ago. This is very uncharacteristic for someone like her.”
“Oh, god, can I have a shirt?” Kaylee asked, realizing she was wearing a bra and skirt.
“Sure. Yours was ruined. I have my workout clothes here. They’re clean,” he added quickly. “I do laundry here sometimes.” Faint pink spread across his face. “Father hates that.”
Kaylee almost laughed, startled by the admission that the man who would inherit a medical empire did his laundry at work.
Evan brought over a soft t-shirt and helped her into it. Moving her shoulder hurt, though the pain was warm and distant. She could barely feel her arm. He repositioned her sling. She sighed, exhausted by the small movements.
“We have a few extra rooms. You’re welcome to stay here for the night,” Evan said.
She sought the most diplomatic response she could muster. “I respect your work and your father’s dedication, but I will never live it down if I stay in a mental health center tonight.”
He laughed. “Yeah your boss wasn’t about to wait for you.”
“He took the car?”
“Yeah.”
Son of a bitch. Another reason to despise Mike. “I’ll get a cab.”
“Put these on. I’m a little obsessive about clothes matching,” Evan said. “You can’t leave here in a dress skirt and t-shirt.” He placed a pair of workout pants on a chair. “I’ll see if I can get you a cab.”
He closed the door and left her in peace.
Kaylee sighed. This isn’t happening. I didn’t go to a nuthouse and get attacked by a patient.
She wriggled out of her skirt and into the pants. The clothing was far more comfortable. She tried to fix her hair but stopped when her left arm wouldn’t work right.
The presence crept up behind her again. She twisted, heartbeat soaring.
He wasn’t visible, but she knew he was there.
“What do you want?” she whispered.
“I saved your life,” the hiss responded.
She was seeing and hearing things now?
“Um, who are you talking to?” asked a voice behind her.
She faced the open door, where Evan stood waiting.
“No one. Myself,” she answered.
“There aren’t any cabs this late. It’s a three hour drive anyway,” Evan said.
“Oh. How late is it?”
“Almost eight.”
Kaylee calculated how long it would take for Mike to wrap up his meeting and return back to the office.
“Mike … Mr. Harrison didn’t send the car back for me?” she asked.
“No. He asked if you were okay and left.”
I can’t stay here. Whether it was the drugs or her sudden fear of mental health centers, Kaylee felt like she was near tears. Evan’s face softened into a warm smile.
“Look, I’ll drive you home,” he said. “I planned on working late, but it is Thursday. I normally start my weekends Thursday night with a trip to the Bow Bar.”
Kaylee’s brow furrowed. The Bow – short for Rainbow – Bar was a well-known gay hotspot in DC.
It would figure the most pleasant, attractive man she’d met in years was gay.
“I’d owe you forever,” she said.
“I owe you. Your boss is probably going to sue us for what happened.”
“Only if it gets his name in the paper,” she said wryly. “He is all about Mike Harrison.”
“I got that impression. My father didn’t care for him too much anyway. Maybe you can represent us in court.” Evan winked.
“This time next year, yes.”
“You okay on your feet?”
She nodded.
“You’ll be stiff tomorrow.” He held up her purse and two pill bottles. “More antibiotics and painkillers. If it gets unbearable, call me, and I’ll write you a new script. I told your boss you needed a few days off.”
A forced vacation. Was this what happened when she ignored the signs she needed a break? Some lunatic stabbed her?
Kaylee nodded. She walked into the hall, too aware of the Shadowman at her back.
“Can I ask you something, Evan?” she ventured. “About stress?”
“Of course.”
They were in the hallway on the third floor, the one with the low risk patients. The television was on with one man stretched on the couch while orderlies walked through checking rooms.
“Can stress be …” she hesitated. “Can it feel like someone is always dogging your every move?”
Evan studied her as they walked. “It can take on many forms. A person whose mind is taxed to its limit can invent any number of ways of trying to express itself. Basically, it’s a warning system. When the warning becomes physical, it means you really do need to find better coping mechanisms and re-evaluate your life.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” she responded. “I haven’t even passed the bar, let alone gone to trial. How can I be so –”
The lights flashed out, leaving them in complete darkness for a split second. Auxiliary lighting blinked on, the low glow illuminating the corridor.
“Is that normal?” she asked, hushed.
“During storm season.” Evan sounded doubtful. “Head through the door there to the elevators. First floor is reception. I’ll meet you down there after I check in to make sure there aren’t any issues.” He started back the way they’d come.
Kaylee watched him for a second then followed his instructions. She prayed the doors in the basement weren’t now all gaping open for their knitting-needle wielding maniacs to escape and attack her.
The thought made her breathing shallow. She punched the button to the elevator three times.
Shadowman left abruptly. Kaylee looked around, uncertain why his disappearance made her feel more unsettled.
I saved your life.
That was one version of things, and it might’ve been the right one. He had kept Amira from stabbing her again. But was she ready to accept that an invisible presence that sat on her balcony at night and stalked her the rest of the day had not only helped her but spoken to her?
Did it make her as crazy as the people here?
She hit the elevator button once more.
It yawned open, and she cringed to see the auxiliary lighting didn’t extend to the dark depths of the elevator. She couldn’t see inside.
Don’t be an idiot,she scolded herself. Besides, there’s only one way out of here.
Kaylee walked into the elevator and clicked the button for the first floor. She frowned, seeing the button for the basement glowing as well. As if someone else was in the elevator already.
She started to turn.
Someone grabbed her.
Chapter Eight
Nathan had been holding his breath, sensing the figure in the third floor lobby debate whether or not to get onto the dark elevator. He watched the colors of her aura, puzzled, but not interested enough to risk being discovered. The lighting was too low for him to make out anything but her shape. She looked … thick. Short and bulky.
Just when the elevator doors started to close, she waved her hand between them and moved into the elevator.
She was headed to the first floor. Probably a doctor or nurse working late who took the brief blackout as a hint it was time to leave.
&n
bsp; He waited until the doors closed firmly before easing behind her and grabbing her. One arm snaked around her midsection. His other hand went across her mouth.
“Quiet,” he said.
Her clothing was bulky. The woman in his arm wasn’t bulky or thick. Her head came just to his chin, and her form felt firm, a layer of toned muscle beneath soft skin. She smelled like a cross between spice and antiseptic.
He tugged her back to the corner, automatically adjusting to the fact she seemed off-balance. She wasn’t struggling and had made no attempt to scream. Her body molded perfectly into his, her hair tickling his nose and her scent lacing through his senses. There was an intangible familiarity about her or maybe, the sense she was in his arms because she was supposed to be.
Something’s not right. I shouldn’t feel like I know her.
“At the count of three, I’m going to let you talk. You’re going to tell me where patient forty one is,” he said slowly, his lips pressed to her ear. “If you scream or give me any other answer but the one I want, this may not go well for you. Nod if you understand.”
She nodded.
“One, two, three.” He released her mouth and wrapped his arm around her neck instead.
The woman’s breathing was uneven. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” he repeated.
One of the gifts he had as a spirit guide was the ability to tap into the energy from the Other Side. He did so now and pushed it into the woman. What her aura wouldn’t tell him, the energy might. It would read her body.
She was recently injured and under the influence of some sort of drug, which explained her strange calm.
With one arm around her neck, he released her body and reached across her to grip her left shoulder.
“No!” Her cry was a strangled whisper. She squirmed, tensing against his body.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he replied. “Patient forty one.” He gripped her shoulder. What he did would hurt initially. His hand almost glowed from the amount of hot energy he shoved into the wound.
“Stop!” the woman gasped. She elbowed him with her good arm, trying to wriggle away.
Nathan leaned into her, trapping her between his body and the elevator wall.
She was panting, the colors of her aura all over the place.
“I don’t know,” she said again. “I came for … a tour. Got stabbed by some crazy chick. I just woke up. I don’t know.”
Her body said it was the truth. Before Nathan could ask anything else, the woman slumped, unconscious.
He sighed, irritated. The girl they came to break out wasn’t in the room she was assigned to on the third floor. Maggy had said to check the basement second. They had limited time with the power being out before it was restored. He needed to find her and get out.
And here he was with some other woman unconscious in his arms. He debated leaving her then decided not to. She’d had a rough enough day.
The door dinged, indicating they’d reached the main floor. Nathan balanced the woman and bent, lifting her. The lobby was dark, and he made out the shape of a couch.
He crossed to it and set the small woman on it. Unable to see her face, he leaned down and placed his hand on her wound again. She murmured in objection but didn’t wake.
The energy was pooling around her injury. She’d be healed by morning.
He drew circles counter clockwise in the air above her to prevent the energy from escaping. Satisfied, Nathan returned to the elevator and went to the basement.
The door opened.
While auxiliary power had kicked in on the upper three floors, it hadn’t here. Orderlies moved through the hallways quickly with flashlights, securing doors and guiding patients back to their rooms. Nathan used their auras as a guide to track who went where and moved stealthily through the hallway, guided by a rainbow of colors only he was able to see.
The girl he sought would glow white and sparkly. He glanced through the windows of rooms as he walked. All the way at the other end of the hallway, two rooms before the dead end, he found her.
Nathan tested the door. It was locked. He reached into a cargo pocket and whipped out a lock pick set, suspecting things were about to get messy when the lights came on and the beefy orderlies spotted him.
He knelt calmly. He traced the outline of the lock with one hand then pulled out his first tool.
The door opened. He looked up, surprised to see the first gen angel he sought standing in the doorway.
Her aura flared a few different colors – yellow for anxiety, green for excitement and blue for sorrow – before it faded to pure white once more.
Nathan stood. She was shaking and tall. He started to speak quietly then stopped, aware she couldn’t hear him. Instead, he rested a hand on her arm and pushed energy into her, knowing a first gen angel would understand the comforting gesture.
She took his hand and squeezed it.
It was enough for now. Nathan shoved the locksmith tools into his pocket and tugged her down the hallway. They paused before the common area, and he calculated quickly how to weave through the chaos before him. After a few seconds, he drew the first gen angel into his side so he could steer her body, then plunged into the mess.
She clung to him, trembling, as he moved deftly through the orderlies and patients milling and darting through the common area and hall. Nathan stretched his senses, the ones originally crafted during war in the Roman Empire to predict an enemy’s movement before he moved.
He reached the other side of the common area and released her, taking her hand.
His watch vibrated, indicating he was out of time. Nathan slid a knit mask over his face then ran. They reached the door separating a waiting area and elevators from the patients just as the lights went back on.
The locks were back in place. He pushed at the door. The keycard reader was glowing once more, indicating he’d need an access key.
“Hey!” someone shouted from down the hall.
Nathan whirled and drew one knife. He took the first gen’s hand and placed it on the keycard reader. She nodded, and he stepped away from her.
The orderly racing down the hallway stopped at the sight of the wicked curved blade of his knife. Nathan kept it lowered in warning rather than as a threat. While the orderly tried to think of how to react, Nathan nudged the angel with his elbow.
The door clicked open behind him. He snatched her hand and yanked her through then slammed it shut.
“Good girl,” he said, aware she didn’t hear him.
He punched the elevator button, eyes on the door.
“Nate?” Her loud voice jarred him.
Nathan glanced at her, taking in the youthful features and slender body. Her eyes were slightly glazed. She was drugged, though for what reason, he couldn’t imagine. Maggy described her as the last person on the planet who would hurt anyone.
He raised his index finger to his lips. The elevator doors opened, and they plunged in. He went up to the fourth floor, used mainly for storage.
He checked the landing area before motioning for the girl to follow. Nathan grimaced at the alarm that sounded when he shoved through the door leading to the single stairwell in the entire building. He went up, two stairs at a time, then shoved his shoulder against the door leading onto the roof.
The fall night was chilly and clear. The blare of alarms was in the air, and floodlights lit up the area around the center in every direction except one: the side leading to the forest.
He took the first gen’s hand and trotted across the roof until he reached the gear he’d stashed earlier. The anchor was in place. He tossed the rope down, knelt on one knee and motioned to the girl to climb on his back.
She did, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he stood, she gave a loud, drunken laugh. Nathan snorted and clipped himself to the rope.
He made his way down the side of the building, unclipped himself, and gently shrugged the girl off his back.
“You’re supposed to be faster than this
,” Maggy hissed.
“She wasn’t where you said she was,” he snapped. “I had to improvise.”
“Randy, take her. We’ll create some sort of diversion,” Maggy said to the guide lingering in the shadows.
Heart pounding at the narrow escape, Nathan couldn’t help thinking he hadn’t felt this alive in a few hundred years.
The first gen hesitated when Randy moved forward. She twisted to peer up at Nathan uncertainly. He nudged her forward. She didn’t resist when Randy took her arm and led her away.
“Angels always trusted you,” Maggy said. “I never understood it.”
“They know I’m an impartial third party.” Nathan glanced up from the rope he wound in his hands.
“Whatever. I figured it was the opposite. They know you care, on some level only they can see.”
“Oh, snap. Sistah Maggy’s gone and accused me of having emotions,” he teased. “She’s drugged. You said she was icing sweet.”
“She is,” Maggy replied. “She checked herself in and started out as being there voluntarily.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. He tucked the rope away and pulled out a flare and fireworks. They had a few different plans for creating diversions. This was the least harmful.
“He was here,” Maggy said. “The fallen guardian.”
Nathan froze, senses sharpening. He didn’t sense anything but the normal guardian angels that were always crowding around their humans. They were like tiny bursts of warmth.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yeah. It was brief then gone. I grabbed the visitor list while you were ambling through the place, taking your sweet time. And her file, since we don’t know anything about this girl.”
“Hold that sarcasm,” he growled. “I’ll be back.” He trotted away, the opposite direction that Randy had gone. A few hundred feet into the forest, he lit the flare and set down the fireworks. In about three minutes, they’d go off.
He sprinted back to Maggy, tapped her arm and continued to the rendezvous point. She ran behind him. The fireworks exploded in the trees and sky behind them, covering the sounds of Randy starting the van.