The Price of Knowing: A Powers of Influence Novel (The Powers of Influence Book 2)

by C. B. Haight

  In reply to the caustic question, the demon thrust Jarrett upward. He felt the jarring impact of the low ceiling as it connected with his head. As his head made contact, the cheaply made ceiling gave way. Drywall and insulation fell to the floor.

  For Jarrett, tested and seasoned in battle, thought ceased to exist. Instead, his mind fell silent and his fighting instincts took hold of his every action. Each automatic movement focused only on survival.

  Bringing up his legs and walking up the demon’s chest, he used the monster's face as a springboard and pushed off with his feet so forcefully the monster relinquished its painful hold. Jarrett fell clumsily to the ground by the bed, barely missing the softer landing it would have offered. The breath in his lungs was forced from him. New pain exploded in his torn side, and his ears began to ring.

  Clearing his head, the Hunter in him knew he needed to deal with this thing quickly and then move on. The demon likely had a puppet master. A person, unknown, summoned it and gave it orders, and whoever did the summoning was his real concern. He rolled to a crouch while forcing the change to come. Despite hating his demon half, he knew it was the only way to match this beast.

  His body reformed into a half-man, half-wolf. It was the form many called hybrid, and in this body, he was a deadly weapon. The demon bent down and reached for him again, but this time Jarrett was waiting for him. Staying low, he charged, using all his strength and wrapping his thick muscled arms around the hefty stumps the demon used as legs. His biceps and shoulders bulged as he growled viciously, toppling the overbalanced creature.

  Hitting the ground together, the demon grunted and snarled, and they rolled once until the wall stopped the momentum. Jarrett, with a slight advantage, ignored the club-like fists beating his fur covered back with bruising force. He was past pain, as his thoughts were focused solely on the death of the demon. The raw viciousness of the monster inside him took over.

  Using teeth and claws, Jarrett tore into the creature, ripping the rough skin and flesh. The ichor in his mouth was foul, but it didn’t stop him. He kept biting and clawing fiercely until with predatory instincts, he managed to lock his jaws onto the neck of the beast.

  The greater-demon understood its impending death, and its struggling became even more desperate. Rolling over again, it tried to use its heavy weight to crush the enraged hybrid, but by then it was no use. Jarrett had locked on, and his jaw clamped down with unbreakable force. He pulled and shook his head violently, tearing flesh, crushing bone, and cutting off air.

  The demon made a sound between a gurgle and a growl as the ichor pulsed from its torn neck. It kept pounding and rolling back and forth while fighting for its life. The strikes began to lessen, the struggle dissipated, and the sickly gurgles and grunts fell silent. By then, Jarrett didn’t notice any of it. He continued to fall deeper into the monster he hated, yet heavily relied upon to survive, wanting only to kill.

  After a few more minutes, Jarrett tore through the last vestiges of bone, muscle, and clammy flesh. The demon body stiffened and went limp with a grotesque finality, as its head came free. The carcass that was left disintegrated into an ash-like substance, leaving the enraged werewolf with nothing left to fight against.

  As the adrenaline began to subside, Jarrett’s arms lost their strength, and he flopped to the ground on his back for a while, working to regain his control. He huffed and panted for air. Every breath he took hurt. His large wolfish ribcage expanded and contracted with the effort.

  After a few minutes, his anger was spent and realizing how his body hurt, Jarrett considered changing, but decided it would be too much for his already drained body. He forced himself to get up, knowing he couldn’t stay here too long. As if on cue, he heard the sirens in the distance.

  Though his back was bruised and beaten, and his side was once again an open bleeding wound, he knew time was short. Changing would be too painful just then, and running would be much easier in his hybrid form. He grabbed his duffel in his clawed hand, slung it over his sore back and took off into the night at a run, regretfully leaving his bike behind.

  Cade paced anxiously around the room while Collett related all she had “dreamed” to everyone present. Rederrick and Nate were there and listened calmly, but Cade could not do the same. His worry overwhelmed him.

  He was stirred up inside for more than one reason. His immediate concern was the very real possibility that his twin brother—though estranged and more often his enemy—may be dead or dying at that precise moment. After Collett explained her vision of Jarrett’s peril and pain, his gut turned with guilt. He'd known that Jarrett was likely in trouble, and he yet hadn’t gone looking for him.

  Slightly less urgent, but just as worrisome was Collett’s pain. When she cried and grabbed onto her side right before waking, his heart almost stopped beating from fear. He would do anything to protect his new bride. The very real pain she felt on behalf of his brother tore at him. Even worse, there was little he could do about it. Despite the fact that she had no visible wound, he understood from her retelling, that whatever pain Jarrett had initially suffered was projected to her somehow. It was a frightening change, and watching as she still rubbed occasionally at the ghost wound it haunted him.

  His gut pinched and knotted over the fact that his wife was “dreaming” or “connecting” to his brother, while she lay cuddled up to him. Logically, he knew it was petty jealousy, not worth another thought. But he couldn’t let go. He was bothered by this sudden connection his new wife shared with a person he’d spent so many years ignoring. When she grabbed Cade’s face with a soft intimate touch of familiarity, thinking she was seeing Jarrett, he felt betrayed in a way. It hurt, a point he was loath to admit even to himself. He felt sick, wondering what they could have been to each other. Maybe that’s what kept Jarrett from killing her. Maybe he knew her better than she knew herself.

  Ever since Jarrett kidnapped her, Collett had become more guarded and vague about her few snapshot memories, especially her shared memories of him. When she told Cade it was to protect Jarrett’s privacy and dignity, he thought nothing more of it, but now. . . Deep in the darkest part of his mind, he wondered a little if there wasn’t more to it. For a minute it was all he could think about and felt an unknown jealousy swelling within.

  Discouraged, he looked over at her once again while she answered Rederrick’s questions to narrow down possible locations where Jarrett could be hiding. Their eyes met, and seeing the innocence and love in her eyes, he berated himself for even thinking about such things. This was Collett; she was the most kind and compassionate person he knew. She embodied a kind of virtue and integrity that practically made her incapable of deception. That was one of many things he loved about her, and he needed to get over these ridiculous thoughts. There was no room for it here. Shaking his head, Cade put the horrid thoughts out of his mind. It simply wasn’t possible, and he was ashamed for even thinking it.

  Two hours had passed since Collett woke from the vision of Jarrett being attacked. She told them every detail, making sure to include how badly she believed him to be injured. The injured part was hard not to believe because of the way she had cried out. Her pain was obviously real—too real for him—implying that Jarrett’s pain was real as well.

  The truth was, they really knew very little about Collett’s capabilities when it came to her newly discovered powers. Less than a month ago, they had discovered that Collett wielded four Powers of Influence: precognition, empathy, projection, and telepathy.

  At first it was a surprising discovery. That day they understood how powerful she could be given enough time. The ability to use four Powers of Influence was simply unheard of. A rare witch or gifted individual would possibly have two of these powers, and most struggled with fully controlling them. The miniscule few that had two often went insane or became reclusive because of the burden these powers often created.

  The more Collett practiced, the easier it became, especially projection—one the rarest powers. She
also surprised them with other talents regularly.

  She could tap into some magic, but she couldn’t use it the same ways Cynda did. So far, most spells attempted had been a bust, but Collett could light a flame and stir a light wind with her will. This required control of elemental magic. However, her use of it was more like the way Jeffery controlled magic. He did not speak words or incantations nor could he brew potions like Cynda. As a sorcerer, he was physically connected to magic, and it seemed Collett, in a minor way, was much the same.

  She was a quick healer too. She could have a bruise one day, and wake up the next morning with no sign of it.

  They were discovering that this incredibly gifted woman he was devoted to, had a weird, and inconvenient, connection to people who could be hundreds of miles away.

  It was beginning to overwhelm him. He hated the uncertainty plaguing them. He’d once told her he didn’t care if she ever got her memory back, and he’d meant it. However he did believe that things would be a lot easier for her if she could remember.

  It was as if all of these influential talents had been seeking release ever since she’d forgotten them, and since meeting this group, the power somehow figured out exactly how slip free. Except it all wanted to be released at once. Because of her lack of memory she hadn’t knowingly used the gifts. Upon finding herself alone on a destroyed beach with no memory two and a half years ago, Collett knew precious little about her abilities. She never would have fathomed she wielded any power at all. Back then, she only thought it was merely instinct, or sensitivity to evil. Now, with all of her powers jumping out so easily, even she could barely keep up. Part of Cade wondered, if she hadn’t met them, would she have ever understood? Would she have ever struggled as she does now? He knew though, he wouldn’t wish her away even if it was true. If she hadn’t met them, he wouldn’t have her as his wife, and that was something he couldn’t wish away, even if it was selfish.

  With her the surprises seemed to be never ending. The real concern was—why Jarrett? Of all the people in the world why did she connect to him? She wasn’t linked to anyone else the way she was with him, and Cade could admit, at least to himself, that was what really bothered him. It was a lot for anyone to take in, even for Cade, a werewolf by birth, who regularly saw a great deal of the incredible. Her involvement in Jarrett’s past and her new confusing link to him were difficult to comprehend and even more difficult to like.

  With the help of everyone here, he had to hold faith that she would conquer this connection and control it. For right now, as much as he hated it, her new ability to connect with Jarrett was something they would have to use as a necessary tool to find him. She was their only connection to his brother even if he hated it. She was seeing what he was seeing, and worse: feeling what he was feeling.

  Cade was pulled from his inner thoughts when he heard Collett telling Rederrick once again, with frustration, that she didn’t have any idea where Jarrett could’ve been. Her voice was laden with guilt. Her expression also spoke volumes. She was beginning to blame herself for Jarrett’s current dilemma, and not figuring out his location based on her vague vision only made it worse.

  “There has to be a way for us to find him,” he heard her insisting.

  “We will Collett,” Rederrick assured. “If it happens again, try to look at his surroundings so we can nail it down. We’ll find him, but it might take time.”

  She looked at Cade with soft sad eyes. “I don’t think he has much time to spare.”

  All day, she tried to convince Cade to go find him. She was sure there was no time to waste. Cade wanted to argue, but he couldn’t anymore. He couldn’t refute how Collett acted during her dream. So he, Nate, and Rederrick kept working on the computer, entering the information Collett could remember into various systems, trying to find possible matches for a starting point. But the information was too vague. Ultimately, they all knew it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, with hundreds of stacks to choose from. The odds weren’t in their favor, and nobody knew what to do about it.

  The evening after Jarrett was attacked, he knew the pain was definitely worse. Every breath racked him. The throbbing, a sensation he was unaccustomed to, pulsed through him with an unforgiving rhythm. Normally, his wounds would have healed themselves already. Instead, movement of any kind caused him to want to cringe outwardly, including the movement required to breathe.

  He pushed past it and kept moving with a perseverance unsurpassed. He knew he needed a new strategy. He tried his best to blend with the people of New York, until he could find a safe place to get a little rest, but he needed a plan of some kind too.

  His head pounded viciously, as if someone had struck his skull with a sledge hammer. He darted into the next alley, and leaning against the concrete wall of the building, he faced the street. Carefully reaching back and probing with his fingers Jarrett sought out the wound on his head, a result of his impromptu examination of the ceiling last night. He found the injury by the matted hair, and felt the puckered skin of the slowly healing wound.

  Despite the ache in his head, he found himself satisfied with its healing progress. He reached down, lightly lifted his shirt to examine his burning side next, and found himself not so satisfied.

  The deep hole in his side was infected, oozing, and healed much too slowly—if at all. The silver dagger did its job well, and Jarrett wasn’t certain how bad it really was. There was no way he could know how many organs might be affected at this point. He felt as if the whole of his insides were on fire—not a good sign by his accounting. Cursing, he gingerly pressed the towel he acquired from the motel back to the wound, and eased his shirt down to hold it in place.

  He cautiously poked his head out of the darkened alleyway to assess the street and verify he wasn’t being followed. All seemed quiet enough for this area. He watched as a couple walking together passed by arm in arm and full of optimism. Old resentment stirred in him, as it often did. If they only knew the truth of the world, it's likely they wouldn’t be so optimistic. They wouldn’t walk so freely in the dark either.

  He took a minute to decide which direction to go. There was one place where he could get a bit of help, but he hated the mere thought of it. He pushed the idea away before it even fully formed. He knew going to see her would be too dangerous. He couldn’t do it. No matter how bad he felt. They would follow, and he wasn’t willing to risk that. No, he thought, shaking his head defying the weak thought. He wasn’t that far gone in the game yet.

  He would have to bide his time for a little longer, and come up with a plan. He wouldn’t bring this mess to her doorstep even if it meant dying. Straightening to his full height, and grinding his teeth as he did, Jarrett moved back out onto the street. Resolved once again he figured he needed to find a dark crowded bar where he could get some whiskey. In a place like that he would be in his element, giving him a slight advantage. As he walked he determined that tomorrow he would need to figure out his next move, and then…well, he’d have to see if he even made it that far.

  He wasn’t afraid to die. In fact, there were times when he would‘ve almost welcomed the end. The problem was his sheer stubbornness. It wasn’t in him to give up, and he hated losing at anything. He thought back on his life, as he traveled down the streets of New York, and considered how it would have been easier to give up long ago, but he’d let anger fuel him all these years.

  More than once during his long life, Jarrett found himself surprised that he still drew breath. If not for the vengeance he sought for Rowena all those years ago, he may have ended it all on that horrific night. He’d wanted to.

  He went to take his revenge and thought he would likely be killed as he zipped through the area, killing as many as he could before they ended him. He went to the preacher first, as he promised himself that he would. Another unwanted memory invaded his mind as he thought on the past.

  “Don’t,” he vaguely heard.

  In his wolf’s body, he stared down at the preacher with hat
e in his heart, anger in his soul, and sadness in his twelve-year-old eyes. The man before him was huddling and whimpering in fear. He had come here looking for revenge and satisfaction. Rowena was dead and someone should pay. He started to move in for the kill and heard the soft, familiar voice again.

  “Don’t. It won’t bring her back.”

  He snarled through his canine muzzle.

  The priest began to pray, asking for mercy. Conflict and confusion entered his heart. His anger though, was stronger than his confusion. He jumped at the priest, and encountered a barrier of sorts. An electric wall he couldn’t see shocked him just before he reached the preacher. The man started crying, babbling about Satan’s monsters. Jarrett growled again, but when he moved to try once more, he heard a small child’s voice.

  “Papa?”

  He snapped around to a find a little girl, no more than five maybe, standing confused and afraid a few feet away. He barked and snarled in frustration. He heard the woman speaking to him despite his anger and frustration. “Will you take from her what they took from you? Will you be like them?” asked the angelic voice in his head.

  He howled loud and long, scaring the child even more, and she began to sob much as he had the day before.

  As he came out of the unwanted memory he cursed, as he realized somehow Collett had been with him at that moment of his life too.

  Chapter 6

  Alittle after four in the morning, Cade sat up in the room Collett and he shared, watching her sleep. She seemed peaceful, but heaven only knew if it would last. For the last two days, Collett kept having nightmares and flashes of strange things. Among them was Jarrett. She had dreamed of Jarrett three times more since her first dream of him being attacked by a demon. It was difficult for him to watch, because each time she awoke horrified and in pain. He hated watching her suffer on behalf of his brother.