by Tasha Black
“Non-smoking, please” Jessica added.
The waitress gave her an odd look. “Hang on hun, I just need to wipe down a table.”
Jessica nodded and looked around.
A calendar hung behind the cashier’s station.
Everything in her told her not to look, but her curiosity was too strong. Besides, wasn’t it better to rip off the bandage?
The number on the calendar was so much higher than she expected that she almost didn’t recognize it as a year.
“Cullen,” she murmured.
“What is it love?” he asked.
“Cullen,” she repeated, unable to unlock her eyes from the calendar or her mind from what she had just seen.
“Damnit,” he said softly, seeming a little surprised himself.
“I’ve been gone for… twenty-five years?” she asked.
“I know,” he said. “It seems unbelievable.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Your table is ready,” the waitress announced on her way back to them.
“I didn’t want to shock you,” Cullen said. “You were just coming back to yourself, and I didn’t want to make it too hard for you. I forgot about that damn calendar.”
“Well you could have told me in private,” she said through her teeth as they followed the waitress.
“What can I start you off with?” the waitress asked as they seated themselves.
“I’ll have a coffee and the special over-easy, rye toast, no sausage,” Jessica said automatically, then second-guessed herself. “Oh my gosh, you still have that, right?”
The waitress pointed to the board over the kitchen, which was an ad for the special: two eggs, two pancakes, two pieces of toast, two pieces of sausage.
At least some things stayed the same, although the price seemed scandalous, especially for a special. She thought of Cullen’s stacks of cash and decided it would be fine.
At least her memory was clearly coming back.
“Make it two, please,” Cullen said, looking very distracted.
Jessica looked down at her hands, trying to envision what it meant that she had been gone so long.
“My parents,” she said. “Are they…?”
“They’re fine,” he told her. “Older, but fine.”
She nodded, trying to picture her parents in their late seventies and couldn’t do it.
“Holy shit,” Cullen murmured.
He was looking up at a television by the cash register. It was playing the Philadelphia news. The picture was incredible. It was like looking out a clear window.
The person on the screen was a woman about her age, with fiery red hair in a tight bun. She wore a locket that seemed almost familiar. Another memory threatened to surface, but when Jessica tried to focus on it, it slipped away.
“So Dolor Enterprises is funding the entire project?” an off-screen reporter asked the woman. “This is the third major gift locally just this year.”
Jessica knew the name. Dolor was Cullen’s company.
She glanced at him.
He was observing the television in awe.
“Charity is one of Mr. Ward’s philosophical cornerstones,” the red-haired woman with the locket replied. “This homeless shelter represents his love for the underprivileged people of Pennsylvania. Though we may have fallen on hard times, we can always lean on each other.”
“Kind words from a kind woman,” the reporter said, his face taking over the screen. “Miranda Cannon is Mr. Ward’s de facto successor and head of Dolor Charitable Giving. Thank you for your time, Ms. Cannon.”
“The pleasure was mine,” Miranda Cannon replied.
She flashed a very genuine smile, and Jessica noticed a dimple on her left cheek.
There was something so familiar about that woman. Jessica wondered if she’d known her in her previous time here. She started to do the mental math, but Cullen interrupted her thoughts.
“My God,” he murmured. “She did it.”
“Who did it?” Jessica asked.
“Sorry,” Cullen said, rubbing his eyes. “It looks like I’ve been gone almost a year myself. Apparently, a lot has happened since I’ve been gone.”
“I guess we both had a surprise today,” she joked.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to steal your thunder,” he told her with a smile.
“It’s nice to see your employees are continuing your mission even though you’ve been away,” Jessica said, indicating the television.
“Sure is,” he said, eyebrows arched. “That Miranda is really applying herself.”
It seemed like he was implying something, but she didn’t get to ask what. The waitress came with two huge trays of food and began setting them on the table.
They ate quietly, Jessica feeling surprisingly okay with the fact that she had been gone for so long.
At last Cullen wiped his mouth and sat back.
“So, we need to make a plan,” he said. “At least, I need to make a plan. You need to sit tight and get back into the swing of things.”
“I feel fine,” she replied, realizing it was true. “I mean I have a lot to learn, I’m sure, but cars are still driving on roads, the Barry White diner still serves my favorite special. I’m sure it won’t take long to get situated. And two heads are better than one.”
“I forgot how good you are at rolling up your sleeves and getting shit done,” he said musingly. “You always were my best sounding board.”
“So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“Well,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, then leaning a little closer. “My brothers have been trying to capture all the fae creatures running wild around here. I’m thinking that I can summon something to get their attention. But it would have to be something really big to be sure to draw in all three of them.”
“Like what,” she asked.
He hesitated for a moment before replying.
“A shadow dragon,” he said at last.
“Can you do that?” she asked. She wasn’t entirely sure what that was, but it sounded impressive.
“Normally, no,” he said. “But I can picture just how I would do it. My powers are stronger now, with my queen around.”
She smiled.
“Once I have them close, I’ll capture them in their heart items,” he explained.
“The things you took from their rooms,” she realized.
“Exactly,” he told her. “That’s why I needed them.”
She nodded. Part of her wished that he didn’t have to trick his own brothers to keep her freedom.
He didn’t seem broken up about it though.
He must be telling the truth about how cruel they had been to him.
“The only problem is that I pretty much depleted my power getting you back here,” he went on. “I need to replenish it before I try something like that. Not to mention that after I summon it, I will have to face off against my brothers.”
“Okay,” she said. “So how do we refill you?”
“It’s not as easy as filling up a car at a gas station,” he said. “I need a source, a strong source.”
A source of pain, she thought, not surprised he chose to leave that part unspoken.
“Oh my Lord,” a woman at the next table said suddenly.
“Such a shame,” her husband said.
They were watching the television, which showed overhead footage of a pile-up on the interstate.
“Oh dear,” Jessica said, shaking her head.
That was one thing she hadn’t missed about the mortal world. She might have been a prisoner, but at least in her little cottage loop there had been no tragedy.
15
Cullen
Cullen watched the events unfold on the screen, an idea forming.
“Well, they won’t take them to Tyler Hospital,” the old woman at the table next to them was saying. “An accident that bad, doesn’t matter that it’s nearby. They’ll take them up to Springton for sure.”
“Yep,” her husband said “Yep, yep. Terrible shame.”
Springton Hospital was nearby.
The tag at the bottom of the screen had the story labeled as “breaking news,” which meant he still had time, if they hurried.
“Are you finished with your coffee?” he asked Jessica as politely as he could.
“Yes,” she said.
He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and threw a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“Let’s go,” he said.
She stood and allowed him to take her hand.
“Keep the change,” he called to their suspicious-looking waitress as they jogged out the door.
“You thought of something, didn’t you?” Jessica asked.
“Yes,” he said, hating to tell her what. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” she replied “Why?”
“I’m going to drive a little fast, but I’ll be in control,” he said. “Are you okay with that?”
“Sure, but won’t we just get pulled over?” she asked.
“No one will notice us,” he said.
She arched her eyebrows, but didn’t argue.
He took that as a yes and pulled out of the lot with a squeal of rubber. Once he was on the road, he summoned some of his magic to shroud the car in obscurity, making them almost invisible to the other drivers.
The stores and trees flew past. In no time, they were headed up the main road that led to Springton.
“What are we doing?” Jessica asked.
“You’ll see when we get there,” he said, hoping that would be good enough.
A few minutes later, he swung the car into a spot in the visitor lot and they hopped out and headed toward the emergency room entrance.
“I’ll need to take care of something here,” he said as they headed in. “You can grab yourself a soda in the lounge if you want.”
He probably wasn’t going to shake her, but it was worth a try. His plan would be easier to pull off without her.
“Sure,” she said, surprising him.
Cullen watched her head over to the vending machines.
He moved ahead and checked out the waiting room.
There was a typical fog of anxiety here, some of it low-level, some sharp enough to feed him a little.
He scanned the room.
A woman held a small child in her lap and read to her while they waited.
A middle-aged couple held hands, both teary-eyed. They must have had a kid in the accident. He made a mental note to check back on them later. That could be useful.
An older man with a white mustache and a cap that said WORLD’S GREATEST GRANDPA sat alone, leaning forward over a wooden cane.
A group of people sat in the center area, too close together for him to be sure how many of them were there together and how many had come separately.
He had to find something more useful.
He headed slowly down the first of the two hallways that led out of the communal space.
A grim-looking nurse passed by him, a mist of misery clinging to her.
He closed his eyes, but the news she carried wasn’t what he was looking for.
He kept walking, knowing sooner or later someone would send him back.
Two orderlies pushed a stretcher with a woman on it. She looked shaken but otherwise okay. She surprised him by locking eyes with him for a moment before the men disappeared with her.
He continued until he saw an exit sign and then turned back, spotting another nurse walking down the hallway not too far ahead of him.
He quickened his pace to catch up, but the news she carried was even better than the first nurse. He was glad for the family, but hoped that if there were bad news to be had, he hadn’t missed out on it.
Back in the waiting room he saw the tearful couple talking with the first nurse and nodding bravely, their faces strong and stoic.
“…a lot of broken bones,” the nurse was saying. “But he’s going to make it. And with proper surgery and physical therapy he should be good as new.”
Cullen headed down the next hallway.
He felt the doctor’s presence before he spotted him. A black hole of pain seemed to emanate from the man, sucking in and demolishing any happy sight he might see.
“Mr. Morris,” the doctor called, heading for the waiting room.
Cullen carefully walked past the doctor to allow a little privacy for whoever Mr. Morris was, but not far enough to miss out on the conversation entirely.
When he turned, he saw that Mr. Morris was the older gentleman with the white mustache and the WORLD’S GREATEST GRANDPA hat.
“I’m Ed Morris,” the man said, leaning on the cane to remove his hat, revealing a shock of white hair.
“Mr. Morris,” the doctor began. “I’m so sorry…”
Ed Morris’s face crumpled instantly, but to his credit, he did not break down. He waited patiently to receive his news.
“We did all we could,” the doctor went on and began an explanation of the patient’s condition.
Cullen was already pulsing with power. He headed down the hallway, back toward the waiting room.
He placed a hand on Morris’s shoulder on his way past, wishing to show solidarity for the older man, whose pain was profiting him.
A surge of power rushed through Cullen, so powerful it almost knocked him off his feet.
He gasped like a fish out of water.
“Son, are you okay?” Morris asked.
Cullen waved at him, unable to speak.
He wandered back into the waiting room in a haze, forgetting what he was there for, he was so awash in raw strength. His blood was practically sizzling with it. It was hard to take a breath.
He found himself sinking into one of the orange plastic chairs, head in his hands, trying to center himself.
16
Jessica
Jessica watched from the alcove by the vending machines.
She hadn’t really wanted a snack - she had ducked away because she wanted to see what Cullen was up to.
And now that she had, she wished she could unsee it.
Why would he go seeking out such pain? Why would he touch that man?
Jessica understood technically how pain might empower him, but surely there was a better way to do it, a way that would avoid exploiting other people’s tragedies.
She turned away, hoping he hadn’t seen her.
She needed to walk a little, needed to think.
Her aimless feet carried her along the smooth tile floor to the main lobby of the hospital, stepping in and out of the squares of light shining in from the windows.
A couple staggered in from the entrance. The woman was leaning on her husband, her belly swollen.
“She’s in labor,” the man called out worriedly.
A nurse with a clipboard approached and began asking him gentle questions.
Something about them reminded her of something…
Another memory was trying to surface.
“Let’s get you right back to L and D,” the nurse said kindly.
The three of them headed off to the door marked Labor and Delivery, and Jessica trailed after them, trying to remember what might be familiar about these people.
The woman moaned in pain.
Jessica shivered.
I’ve been in pain in this hospital. In this hallway.
But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be.
Copper beech, so much pain, focus on the tree…
The woman was being led into a room. From the hall, Jessica could see a window overlooking the courtyard.
At the center of the courtyard was a glorious copper beech tree.
She felt the breath go out of her body.
“Ma’am, can I help you?” a nurse asked, walking up to her briskly. “We don’t have visiting hours right now.”
“I-I,” she stammered.
“Is that your sister in there?” the nurse asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “She onl
y wants her husband in the room during the birth. It’s on her papers. But you come with me to the family waiting area and we’ll get you a nice cup of tea. Her doctor is the very best. She’s in great hands.”
Jessica allowed herself to be led to a small seating area.
As soon as the nurse disappeared to get her a cup of tea, she closed her eyes and begged her memories to return.
So much pain, so much endless pain…
The doctor at her feet, a nurse holding her hand, without them she would be all alone.
She is drowning in a haze of pain.
A high-pitched and beautiful cry pierces the haze and the doctor holds up the little thing as if she were a trophy.
“A little girl,” the nurse says, calmly patting Jessica’s head even though Jessica has been squeezing her hand mercilessly through the last bits of the labor.
“A redhead,” the doctor adds with a grin.
Jessica drinks in the sight, chubby belly, squinty eyes, a sprinkle of bright red hair.
Another nurse takes the baby to wash her.
“Do you want to hold her?” the nurse asks.
Jessica shakes her head, unable to speak.
“You want her to go right to her adoptive mom?” the nurse asks kindly.
Jessica manages to fight every instinct in her body to nod again, reminding herself that she cannot care for a child alone. She is bringing happiness to a couple chosen by the agency. She is bringing life into the world. This is her reward for the pain of losing her.
The second nurse begins to leave with the baby.
“Wait,” Jessica remembers. “Wait, I have something for her.”
“Where is it, dear?”
“In-in my bag,” she says, waving at the corner. “There’s an envelope.” Did she ever have something so mundane as a pocketbook? Did she walk in here like a regular person? Now she would always be a ghost of herself.
While the nurse who held her hand rifles through her bag, the one holding the baby comes close to wait.
Jessica doesn’t have the strength to resist soaking in the beautiful sight of her daughter once more. She extends her hand to touch the tiny fist and then caress a soft cheek.
The baby smiles.