Dark Embrace

by Angie Sandro

  Ferdinand nods. “I get it. How exactly did you become telepathically linked to him?”

  Heat burns in my chest and rushes to my face. “The doctor who patched me up after the attack found this mysterious substance on my skin. Don’t ask what it is—I’ve no idea. But it came from the entity, and it healed my wounds quickly.”

  I hold out my arm to show him where the knife had slashed it. “I got this five days ago. The knife cut down to the bone.”

  Ferdinand traces a finger lightly across the scar. “Impressive.”

  “My, you are the master of the understatement.” I take my arm back.

  “You told me you could stop him from killing. It’s the only reason I let you go into that crypt alone.” Ferdinand draws in a deep breath. “You disappeared.”

  “That must have been disconcerting.” The memory of passing through the barrier brings a shudder. “What did you think happened?”

  “Hell, I didn’t stick around long enough to put much thought into it. I’d already reached my car before I talked myself into going back for you. I saw the patrol car pass by with you in it.”

  “I have the worst timing ever when it comes to that man,” I mutter. “Detective Anders is investigating Squirrel’s death, and he’s convinced I know more than I’m sharing.”

  “You do know more than you’re sharing,” Ferdinand says. “Anders is trained to tell when he’s being lied to. I bet he’s furious at being unable to get you to trust him. He has good instincts.”

  “Too good,” I agree. “But there’s nothing I can tell him that he’ll believe. I mean, I told him about the black smoke. He called me crazy.”

  “What do you think the thing is?”

  “It’s not a thing,” I snap, feeling protective. “He’s a person—maybe not a normal person, but he has feelings and emotions. He needs my help.”

  “And what do you think you can do for him, Dena? You said earlier that you had to save him. When you disappeared into the crypt, did you find him? Did you save him?”

  I slap my palms over burning eyes, pressing them until white spots dance behind my eyelids. “No, I messed up. I was so stupid! He was so happy to see me. I mean really happy.” I squirm. “The way a normal man would be happy to see a woman. At first I was glad to be with him, too. I forgot the fact that he’s different and got lost in the moment. His emotions swept me up.” I shiver. “Jeez, this conversation would be easier if you were a woman.”

  Ferdinand sighs. “Misunderstandings happen. The woman I’m interested in thinks I deceived her, and she’ll probably never forgive me.” His dark eyes soften. “See, woman or not, I understand the pain of hurting someone I care about.”

  Poor guy. “I’m sorry.”

  He runs a hand across his bald scalp and smiles. My breath catches. Wow, Ferdinand’s hot. I couldn’t see him well in the dark, but now, he totally reminds me of the actor from Murder in the First, Taye Diggs. Only taller. Mala had the biggest teen-crush on the actor. She dragged me along to all of his movies. I bet if she met Ferdinand in person, she’d pass out. Starstruck.

  Stifling my inappropriate giggle, I say, “It’s strange. We haven’t known each other very long, but for some reason, I trust you. Thank you for opening up to me.”

  He raises his hands, palms up. “I’ve made mistakes in my past. The spirit searched my soul and allowed me to live. Perhaps I still have a shot at redemption.”

  Maybe we both do.

  “I hope so. It’s strange how he makes me feel. I’ve never been so intense, so soon, with anyone else.” Except Anders, but I’ll deny my attraction to that jerk until the day I die. I stare at my fingers, remembering the spirit’s soft kisses. My reaction to him scares the hell out of me. “What if my feelings for the spirit aren’t real? Do you think the chemical creates false emotions?”

  “What?”

  “I think he secretes an aphrodisiac. I find myself craving his taste when we’re together, but it fades when we’re separated.”

  “Like a drug addiction?”

  I shrug. “I guess it doesn’t matter if the emotions are real or false. What matters is that it felt real. I responded to him as if it was real. That’s what makes what I did even worse. I could feel how much he needed me, and I panicked.” My stomach knots up in shame at the revulsion I felt. “I rejected him.”

  Ferdinand cups my hands in his large ones. “Dena, I know you feel horrible, but given the circumstances, your reaction was justifiable.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Still doesn’t change the fact that I blew my chance to help him. If anyone else gets hurt, it’ll be my fault.”

  “Blaming yourself won’t change the situation.”

  I sit back, considering all I know about the entity. “You’re right. I need to fix this. He needs something from me, Ferdinand. I have to believe that. Otherwise, why choose me in the first place?”

  “To know the answers to that question, you’ll need to figure out how he came to be in this state and what he is.”

  “How exactly do I do that?”

  “You have a couple of clues, the first being your connection to him.”

  “The dreams?”

  “If you are more connected to him during the dreams, perhaps you can use this altered state to discover what happened to him.”

  “Shit! I barely remember the details of the dreams once I wake up.”

  “I have a client who is a hypnotherapist. I can call her and schedule an appointment.” He grins. “She’ll get a kick out of it. She’s really interested in things like alien abductions and past lives.”

  “Is she pro or con?”

  “I’ll let you discover that for yourself. Second, you should find out more about that chemical on your skin. Talk to your doctor.”

  “I have an appointment for a follow-up this afternoon.”

  He nods. “Last, you need to find out whether there were any unusual occurrences around the time when the murders began.”

  “Like a freak meteor shower or a particle accelerator explosion that makes a giant thunderstorm?”

  Ferdinand slaps a hand on his thigh and rises. “Stranger things have happened. At least it’s a start. Unless you plan on sitting around beating yourself up over what happened or what might happen in the future.”

  He’s got a point. I practically float as I walk him to the front door. After spilling my proverbial guts, a huge weight has lifted from my shoulders. I have a plan and a co-conspirator, always nice things to have in a crisis.

  Ferdinand pauses at the door. “I’ll call after I speak with my client about the appointment. I also suggest putting a notebook beside your bed to record the details of any dreams you have immediately upon waking. Call me if anything new pops up.” He pulls out a card and hands it to me.

  Gabriella waits in the kitchen, dispelling the notion of vanishing back into my room without getting caught. She slumps in her seat at the table, a steaming, untouched mug of tea sitting in front of her. When I enter the room, she lifts her head, but refuses to make eye contact. That, coupled with the redness of her nose against her butterscotch skin, indicates she’s been crying. I need to talk fast to make things right with her.

  Guilt swamps me. As her alleged best friend, I should’ve confided everything to her in the beginning. Now the situation has become so confusing that I don’t know how to begin, or whether she’s willing to hear my explanation.

  “Dena, sit down. We need to talk.”

  “Look Gabby, I’m so sorry…”

  “Please, this will be easier if I don’t have to stare up at you.” She waves me into a chair.

  I sit, lip poked out in a pout. Unfair—I know—but I don’t care. I’m terrified of what she plans to say. What if she tells me she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore?

  I hadn’t realized how much I depended on her unwavering support until this moment. How much I’d leaned on her after the breakup with Charles, getting released from the hospital…hell, for more things than I can count on one hand.
I need her friendship a hell of a lot more than she needs mine.

  “Look,” she says, “I know you’ve had a rough go of it lately. I’ve tried to be supportive, and up until today, I thought we were tight. I mean you’re like a little sister to me…”

  She pauses to take a breath, and I jump in. “You’re like a sister to me, too, Gabriella.”

  “Let me finish. You hurt me today. Do you get that?” She scrubs away her tears. “I was so worried. I almost lost you the night of the party, and tonight, not knowing if you were alive or dead, brought back all the terror of seeing you in the hospital.”

  “I know. Please forgive me. I’d never deliberately do anything to hurt you. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Gabriella sniffs. “I know you weren’t. That’s why I think you need to see a shrink.”

  “I agree.”

  Her jaw drops. “Seriously? Are you some pod person that’s taken over the body of my friend?”

  “Nope, no body snatching here” —although it would explain how fast I’m healing— “at least I don’t think. Would I know if I were?” Oh my God, what if I’m an alien? I take a deep breath and brush the thought aside with my exhale. Now isn’t the time to freak out. “Don’t worry. I know I can’t deal with this situation alone. I need help.”

  “I’ll always be here for you.”

  “I hope you will be, but I won’t take your friendship for granted, Gabby. If I lost you… well, in that direction lies madness and despair.” I grin to show I’m joking. “Seriously, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around. Probably take up knitting again.”

  “You made some pretty cool blankets in your post breakup days. Thank goodness I convinced you to stop moping over Charles and go partying with me.” Gabriella laughs then sobers. “About that shrink?”

  “Actually, I took care of that tonight. I told Ferdinand about my problem, and he’s scheduling an appointment for me to meet with a therapist friend of his.”

  “Isn’t that a conflict or something, seeing as how you’re in a relationship?”

  “Relationship?” I choke on the word. With Ferdinand? Then I remember the debacle over the hickey. “We’re just friends.”

  “Why? He’s handsome, employed, and handsome.”

  “Don’t forget, old enough to be my father.”

  “He’s the best kind of guy. He can be your sugar daddy.”

  “Are you eating Nutella, Gabriella? I don’t need any man barging into my life, telling me what to do. Dad’s dead, and I’m free to do whatever I want. I’m not falling into a relationship trap until I’m good and ready.”

  She laughs. “I knew he wasn’t your type, yah big faker. It was funny watching Charles turn all red and splotchy at the thought of you with another man, though.”

  “He was totally jealous,” I agree with a wicked grin of my own.

  “I thought Vanessa’s head would explode with envy. After you went upstairs with Ferdinand, she physically held Charles back to keep him from following.”

  “He’s a self-righteous jerk. I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”

  “I always wondered the same thing. If Ferdinand wasn’t the guy you were spending time with, then who was it? Detective Anders?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No. Haven’t you noticed the way he watches you? How he’s always showing up unexpectedly?”

  “Where do you get these crazy notions? You read too many romance novels. I have absolutely no interest in Anders.”

  “Right…”

  “Seriously, I don’t. I mean, he is attractive, but he’s got a giant stick up his ass. I’ve never seen him relax. Everything he says is calculated for effect, like a robot.”

  Gabriella giggles. “Anders reminds me of Sam Worthington in Terminator Salvation, where he plays a hot cyborg.”

  “Looks only go so far. Eventually, you need to hold an honest conversation with your significant other. Anders puts up a shield and only shows what he wants me to see. ”

  “Just because he’s shy doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a personality.”

  “Shy my left butt cheek. He’s a manipulative bastard who’s investigating me for multiple homicides.”

  “He’s not, Dena. I asked him myself. He doesn’t think you’re the murderer.” She pauses, staring at me with wide doe eyes. “He thinks the murderer’s stalking you.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Hypnotize Me

  I’m exhausted when I roll out of bed at noon. A feeling of dread lingers. As much as I once despaired of having nightmares, it’s the only way to connect again with the spirit. The problem is I tossed and turned for most of the morning, unable to fall asleep. The idea that the dead men were targeting me freaked me out more than my nightmares. It’s time for me to get some answers, starting with Dr. Estrada.

  I shower and dress in comfortable clothing: a navy T-shirt and jeans with a black corduroy jacket that will be easy to remove during the appointment with Dr. Estrada. Next, I tackle my hair, always an arduous undertaking. After a liberal dose of conditioner to tame my unruly copper curls, I feel presentable.

  Gabriella drives me to the hospital and waits in her car while I go in, ’cause I don’t think the appointment will take long. Boy, wrong. I expect a routine examination, where Estrada checks my wounds, says how great I’m healing, and explains how the mysterious substance affected my body. Afterward, we go our separate ways in mutual satisfaction. Instead, twenty minutes after I come in, I’m sitting across from Estrada while he threatens to call in an orderly to hold me down while he draws my blood.

  I hate needles! Estrada has a really big one sitting on the table next to him, which makes me nauseous. “Repeat the part about needing three vials of my blood, please?”

  Estrada’s face flushes. “We’ve been over this twice already. Nothing in my answer is going to change. Roll up your sleeve so we can get this over with.”

  “Well, my answer hasn’t changed either. As I said earlier, I don’t do needles unless it’s for a very good reason. You haven’t given me one. So I’ll ask again. What you are hoping to find?”

  “I want to run some tests.”

  “I get that. Tests for what?”

  “It’s routine,” he repeats, slowly, as if I’m stupid.

  “Is my blood special, Alonso?”

  “No!”

  I lean forward. Beads of sweat pop up on his forehead. “I heard you found an interesting chemical on my skin…”

  Estrada’s whole body stiffens, starting with his face and moving downward until his fist clenches on his lap. “Where did you hear that? No, it doesn’t matter. I assure you this is a routine test. I need to be sure you weren’t exposed to any pathogens when you were assaulted.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that in the beginning? I’ve already been tested, and Tolson’s body was tested during the autopsy. He was clean.”

  I hop off the table and pick up my jacket and purse. About to exit the room, I pause, deciding to give him one last chance to tell me the truth. “Alonso, I know something strange was found on my skin. I know that I healed amazingly fast. I also have some other unusual symptoms. If you had been honest with me up-front, instead of skirting the issue, I would’ve been willing to help you.”

  “Dena, I assure you there’s nothing…”

  I hold up my hand. “Never mind. I hate being lied to, especially when it has to do with my body. Maybe you think you have a good reason—that you’re hiding this information for my benefit. But I’m done with being taken advantage of by men. You’re loosely included in this category, but the results are the same. I’ll be transferring to a new doctor. I expect my records to make it to her without any problems.”

  Estrada’s amber skin flushes. “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to do that, Dena. This is my case. I refuse to give anyone access to the compound I found on your skin.”

  “Are you kidding? Just because you interpreted the lab results doesn’t mean you own it or me.” />
  “It’s my discovery, Dena. It’s a miracle substance. Imagine how many lives will be saved if I discover how to reproduce this compound. The regenerative properties alone make what’s in your body worth a fortune.”

  “It’s my skin, my miracle, Alonso.”

  “I think Pepper would agree with my proposal…”

  “What does my mother have to do with anything? Are you planning on tattletaling to my mommy about my lack of cooperation?” I pour the sarcasm on thick. “Go ahead. Maybe she’ll try to ground me until I comply.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m simply begging you to reconsider. Your mother trusts my judgment. She would agree with me about the benefits of cooperating. If money’s not an incentive, consider that you would be helping to save lives.”

  I lean forward, nostrils flaring. “Maybe my mother would put money over my welfare; she has before. But I don’t trust you. I won’t become your lab rat, no matter how much money you wave before my face. And I know for a fact that you aren’t doing research out of the goodness of your heart, with high moral principles like saving mankind. As far as I can tell, you don’t even have a heart, Alonso.”

  I storm out of his office feeling like shit. During my hospital stay, I’d heard rumors about Estrada’s ruthless self-promotion, compromising his ethics when dealing with patients. It infuriates me that he’d try to use Pepper to coerce my cooperation, let alone ignore the illegality of discussing my case with my mother. I’m not a child.

  I check my text messages on the way to the car. Ferdinand scheduled an appointment for me to meet with his hypnotherapist friend, Downey Flood. I grin at the name. I text Ferdinand back, letting him know that I’ll be there.

  Gabriella sits with the seat pushed back. Her foot’s propped on the steering wheel as she paints her toenails. “Oh,” she hisses when I slide in beside her, slamming the door so hard she paints half of her big toe. “You have the worst timing.”

  I pull nail polish remover from her manicure kit and hand it to her. “I can drive if you want.”

  “No way, Concussion Girl. I want to make it home with my pretty toes attached to my feet. Passion pink.” She dabs a cotton ball on the mess I created.