by Leanne Leeds
Well, now we know where she got it, Gunther thought to me.
The kennel contained large cages on either side, living quarters for the dogs waiting for their forever homes. Those dogs that had come in with a friend got to stay with them, and so the twelve enclosures held fifteen dogs.
Fifteen frightened dogs. The little Chihuahua to the right of me shook like a leaf. Dark, liquid eyes stared from the back of his living quarters in fear. It was a posture I would see again and again as we walked.
It wasn’t normal.
Jeez, Gunther, all the dogs are terrified of him, I thought back.
I don’t blame them. We’re all a little jumpy, too. I think between us being nervous and his attack on the enclosure gate, the animals are just reacting to the energy in here. He is a gangster, after all. Maybe they’re just responding to him as a person.
“Stupid girl,” Anthony Drake whispered as he jerked open the curtain. “All for a stupid sorority prank. You stupid, stupid little girl. I always told you rule number one is to not get caught. Maybe it was better that someone got you now rather than years down the line when you could’ve pulled me down with you.”
We were all stunned.
I expected some kind of fatherly outburst of mourning, some grief, maybe even a single manly tear down his bristled cheek.
But a tongue lashing for his dead daughter’s actions?
What a selfish narcissist. The words were painful to listen to. It was even more painful to watch the spoiled ghost’s reaction.
As much as Fiona disliked the girl, her face cracked in sympathy as she moved in front of Tiffany. Facing the girl, her hands, hidden by her body, moved frantically to motion out of Anthony’s sight. The kelpie was trying to convince Tiffany to leave.
The pretty girl’s apparition remained motionless, held captive by the angry image of her father and his words.
“You were going to be the queen of my empire, you stupid child. You and Michael. Not only could you not get caught, but you also weren’t even tough enough not to be killed.”
“Mr. Drake, this is completely inappropriate—”
“What do you care?” Anthony Drake roared as he whirled on my father. “She’s dead. It’s not like the idiot girl can hear me anymore,” he snapped. “Your family has lived here a long time. You know who I am. Since you know who I am, you know who she should have been. But that’s her blood, so clearly she wasn’t who she should have been.”
“I can’t believe you’re saying this about your own daughter,” I snapped at him. “No one deserves to be killed! No one is responsible for their own murder!”
“Oh, I believe that some people do, Ms. Astley,” Michael Hayden disagreed quietly. “Some people do deserve to be killed. Some people bring the hand within mortal striking distance by their own actions.”
“Considering what the two of you do and who you are, it doesn’t surprise me to hear you say that. Out here in the real world, though, people don’t use murder as a way to settle a score.”
“The real world?” Hayden responded, amused. The wiry man turned and stepped toward me with an out-sized dignity and pride considering his words. “The real world is a cold, heartless place where people struggle and only the strong survive. The strong, and those that are weak who have someone strong to protect them.”
Michael Hayden was a sheet of glass. Poking around the corners of his mind and emotions I could only sense myself reflecting back at me. The man was disciplined, cold.
“However, we didn’t come here to discuss the inequities in the world,” he continued. “We came to see the place where the girl fell.”
Michael Hayden gestured with an open palm to the corner, eyes lingering over the puddle of dried blood that stained the concrete floor.
“Now we have.”
“She knew,” Aidan said as if in a hazy dream. “Her eyes rose and met the killer’s cold stare. She knew as she saw him approach.” He swayed on his feet, and Gunther grabbed his arm to hold steady. “She didn’t know why. She didn’t realize he knew it was all because of him.”
“What is he talking about? What does he mean?” Anthony Drake barked.
“Mr. Drake, I don’t think there’s anything more to be learned here,” Michael Hayden told him calmly. “Clearly these people are simply a bunch of do-gooders that don’t have anything more to share with us.”
“You’re probably right, Michael,” Drake agreed as he turned his back on the place where his daughter had died. “At least I have you. It’s a shame that no one of my blood was smart enough to grab what I could have given them. Stupid women. Their mothers… I always had a weakness for stupid women. You did the best you could for her, Michael, I’m sure.”
Anthony Drake babbled as Michael Hayden attempted to lead him away.
“Yes, Mr. Drake,” Michael Hayden responded.
I had never wanted to clobber someone so much in my entire life. Anthony Drake was a repugnant human being. Tiffany Drake didn’t have a chance of turning into a decent human being with a father like this.
“If anything else happens, you call me,” Anthony Drake told us as he jabbed his fat finger in our direction. “You get me? Don’t call the police. You call me. Me or Michael. Me or Michael only. Understand?”
“Please let us know if you need anything else,” I told him through clenched teeth, refusing to agree to his demands. “I trust you can see yourself out?”
“Women,” the man murmured as he turned on his heel. “Can’t live with them, can’t shoot them. Well, can’t shoot a lot of them or the police get suspicious.”
“Yes, Mr. Drake,” Hayden responded.
Michael Hayden paused at the exit to the kennel and turned back to meet my eyes. With a sharp nod, he followed his boss out.
8
“Why is he leaving? Why are you letting him leave? He was just angry, that’s how Daddy deals with things,” Tiffany said as she moved toward the door with her glowing hands outstretched. The young woman’s voice was rough as she wrestled with her love for her horrible father and the things she had just heard him say about her.
“Tiffany, your father won’t be able to see you, so there’s nothing he can do to help you,” I told her. “We’ll help you. I promise. Just forget about your father for now.”
I admit, what I said was somewhat cold. Although I had my issues with my parents and my uncle, I had never seen a parent so cruel to a child before. Even an adult child. Even though I had sympathy for her, Tiffany’s allegiance to the awful gangster baffled me. And it bothered me.
Why do people show dedication to others—even when those others are just out to abuse them? I saw it with the Witches' Council repeatedly, and I was watching it with Tiffany and Anthony Drake.
Charlotte, all people are more complicated than they seem, Gunther said in my mind. Whatever else he is, he is still her father. She loves him, and we are strangers to her. It’s not surprising even after what he said that she would be pained by his leaving.
If my father treated me like that, there’s no way I would be walking after him with that lost little waif look on my ghost face.
Gunther didn’t respond, but I could feel his emotional discomfort with my judgment. I shrugged it off and turned back to Tiffany. I didn’t have time to explain myself to my boyfriend.
And frankly, I didn’t feel like I should have to. How could he not get it?
“Forget about him? How can I forget about him? That man has controlled my life since I was ten years old. I don’t know how to live without Daddy telling me what I need to do.”
I’m not supposed to be judgmental? Really?
I bit my tongue.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not alive then, dear,” my mother told her, smiling. “You are your own ghost now, and you can decide what type of ghost you would like to be.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, puzzled.
“We can’t help you move on,” I told her. “We are all alive, we don’t know what that me
ans, really. Moving on, what happens after people die or after their ghost disappears. It’s still a mystery.”
“Speak for yourself,” Uncle Phil said, offended. “I’m not alive.”
“But you have a body.”
“I do, but I’m not alive,” he told her.
“So, do you know what moving on means? Aren’t I supposed to get some big house in heaven and all sorts of rewards and riches because of who Daddy was?”
“I’m almost positive that’s not how it works,” Uncle Phil told her.
“Well, how does it work, then?”
“I don’t know. I said I was dead, not omniscient.”
“What does that word mean?”
“He saying he’s not a know it all,” I told her. “Although I have to tell you, I could bring up a few discussions he and I have had that would argue his assertion.”
“He was just trying to help you. Even when he sounded arrogant, he was scared, and was trying to help,” Aidan said in that soft and dreamy voice. “He was frightened for you, frightened by what was going on. He didn’t want you to know he was frightened. He projected strength hoping that by projecting strength for you, you wouldn’t be afraid…”
“Okay, what the heck is going on with him?” I asked. “What is this?”
“Oh, oh, I think I know,” my mother said, shocked. “It’s retrocognition. I’ve heard about this power. It’s very rare.”
“Retrocognition?”
“Well, everyone has heard of precognition, correct?” my mother asked. A few of us nodded. “This is the companion talent to precognition. With precognition, you can see an incident or glimpses of an incident that will likely take place in the future. With retrocognition, you can see an event of the past. Some people even believe that humans who see ghosts are simply experiencing a form of retrocognition surrounding an event. It’s a specific type of clairvoyance.”
“But there are ghosts,” Tiffany pointed out. “I mean, I’m here, right? Wait a minute—am I not here?”
“There are usually multiple explanations, paranormal and otherwise, for the things humans can see but can’t explain. Not all ghosts are ghosts, but some are. Nothing to worry about, dear.”
“So we now have the past, present, and future covered,” Gunther laughed. “I guess that could be handy.”
My head snapped on my neck at Gunther’s observation. What he said tickled some buried memory deep inside my mind I couldn’t entirely access.
“Say that again? What do you mean?”
“Well, you can peek into people’s present. Whether it’s through your own clairvoyance or your tie to Samson, you know a lot of what’s going on right now. Or you can access it, at least. It seems Aidan can see into the past—I mean, were either of you thinking about the discussion he was talking about? If you weren’t, he couldn’t have got it from run-of-the-mill telepathy.”
“I don’t even know what discussion he was talking about,” I told my boyfriend. Uncle Phil shrugged and shook his head no.
“And then we have Ethel Elkins to cover the future. See? Past, present, and future all accounted for.”
I shivered, but I didn’t know why.
“While that is interesting, we haven’t really dealt with your friend Aidan yet, Charlotte,” my mother pointed out. “And I think dealing with Aidan might be fairly imperative. The young man is having flashes of retrocognition, and he hasn’t even crossed the border of the Magical Midway yet. He is slightly awakened now. It seems like we have no choice but to bring him across and deal with it one way or another.”
“The norn will know if it’s time,” Aidan murmured.
“How do you know what a norn is, Aidan?” I asked him.
“I have seen her in dreams,” he whispered, his eyes becoming unfocused as he gazed at the ceiling. “She has visited me in the past to talk about the future, and now it’s no longer hidden. I know what I must do. She will know when I must do it.”
“What do you have to do?”
Aidan’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed into Gunther’s arms.
“Ms. Elkins, we need you and Devana, now, please!” I told her as I banged on the door. “Are they ignoring us? Maybe they aren’t there. It would be just our luck if they left to go do something right at this moment.”
“Charlotte, reach out with your feelings,” Gunther said.
“What are you, Obi-Wan Kenobi?”
“Who’s that?” Gunther asked, confused.
“Oh my gosh,” I sighed.
Closing my eyes, I placed my hand on the door and pictured my senses coming out of the palm of my hand like octopus tentacles. The tendrils of energy stretched out into the room I had created days ago seeking to connect with one of the two isolated women.
I suppose it was less disrespectful than merely kicking down the door.
“Well, that was rude!” Ethel Elkins shouted through the door as my tendril poked her between the eyes. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should do something, you know! You could have taken my eye out!”
The door opened slowly, and Devana smiled warmly at me. The huntress witch looked tired, almost as if she had not slept in days. Her beautiful green velvet gown was wrinkled, and the golden sleeves were pushed up above her elbows. “I apologize for not hearing you knock,” Devana told me. “We were meditating on an issue and somewhat distracted from this plane.”
“Clearly, she was able to get our attention, so don’t apologize to her after she poked me in the head!” Ms. Elkins snapped as she shuffled toward the door. “What is it you want, girl? Devana and I have many places to visit and many people to talk to. Nothing’s changed out here—”
The norn stopped abruptly and stuck her wrinkled face out. Sniffing the air loudly, she gasped. “He’s here? When did he get here? Oh, I knew that this was going to be a pain in my wrinkled keister wrangling all these youngins. Isn’t that what you’re here for?” Ethel asked Devana, poking the huntress witch with her cane. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Your holiness, you had me visiting other worlds by spirit walk,” Devana answered evenly. “I am not so talented that I can split my spirit to work in two planes of reality at once.”
“Excuses, excuses. Some help you are,” the norn grumbled as she scratched her behind vigorously. “My rear end feels like it’s been sitting on boxes of concrete for days. So much lounging around and doing nothing for such a busy time.”
“Ms. Elkins, we really need your help,” I interrupted the old woman’s complaining. “My friend has—”
“Developed powers and you are shocked that you knew him in the human world and he’s really descended from a witch, yadda yadda, so on and so forth,” Ethel groused as she wildly waved her cane around. The old woman’s stick came perilously close to my head. “Yes, yes, I get it. So where is he?”
“Well, he’s outside the barrier,” I explained. “My mother seems to think that his powers have been partially awakened and I have to say with some of the things he’s stating, I agree with—”
“You keep telling me things I already know!” Ethel screeched as she shoved her face into mine. “Tell me something I don’t know, sweet cheeks!”
“I don’t know what you don’t know!” I fumed at her. “You’ve been locked in this room for days and haven’t spoken to me! How would I know what you know?”
“Well, then you’re not exactly where we need you to be, are you?” the old woman sighed with exasperation.
“Ms. Elkins—”
“Bring the reader to me,” she said as she pointed her finger at me. “You can handle that, can’t you?”
I could never quite figure out if Ethel Elkins thought too much of me, or too little.
“Yes, ma’am, I can bring the reader to you,” I told her with as much calm as I could muster. “I assume that Aidan is the person you’re calling the reader?”
“What have we just been talking about? Were you even in this conversation?” Ms. Elkins screeched and thumped
me with her forefinger between my eyes. “The one who knows you without the rings, the one who can read the records of what has been, the one who must fully open the book. Bring him here.”
I nodded and walked back into the main room. Gunther and Devana followed. I turned and raised my eyebrow at Devana, crossing my arms.
She bowed her head.
“Those who see the future can be arrogant about what they know,” Devana said. “Please don’t be angry with her holiness. She does want the best for us all, and she wants to aid you. Please believe that. When you know all that could come to pass, and all that may come to be, it is difficult to understand why others do not see the paths before them. She doesn’t mean any harm or insult.”
“I get it,” I told her. “It doesn’t make her snappy comments any easier to deal with when they’re happening. Anyway, why are you coming?”
“The present is a finite amount of information,” Devana explained. “Your powers require focus, and what you may know in any moment has completely changed in the next moment. It comes with its own form of control. For those with access to the past, your moment is added to their understanding and all the understandings that have come before. When they are first opened fully to it, it can be… overwhelming.”
“Is Aidan going to be hurt? If this is gonna hurt him, I’m not bringing him across the barrier,” I told her. “I don’t care if he has some role in this crazy supernatural drama play, or we need him to save the world. I will not hurt my friend.”
“It will not be pleasant, but it will not kill him,” Devana responded. “Her holiness has seen him on the path, and that image of him has become more solid in the past couple of days as his time of empowerment grows closer. He will survive the crossing, of this I am sure,” she said.
“Good,” I nodded and turned to make my way to the door.
“I go with you to ensure the rest of us do as well,” Devana added.
I stopped, turned and stared at the huntress witch.