by Dale Mayer
It's not about money. I can get all I want. It's not about prestige. I could have that too if I so choose. No. This is about the essential building block of our lives. The piece that makes or breaks a person. The piece that says who they really are. What's that piece, you might ask?
It's called power.
Power is all I want and I have lots, but now…now I have the capability to take your power, too. And add to mine. Why would I do that to you?
Easy. You took something very special from me.
And for that, Shay, you will pay.
But not to worry. There are a few other people I plan to meet with first.
We'll see each other around.
Oh, my mistake.
No, you won't!
But I’ll see you.
Chapter 3
Late Saturday evening…
Once in the elevator, on the way up to her apartment, Shay phoned the hospital for an update on Bernice, only to be told there was no improvement and the doctors were still with her. It didn't look good. She'd immediately called her grandfather to update him on Beatrice’s condition. She’d learned he was already at the hospital. Shay offered to join him.
He'd been almost incoherent and inconsolable but ultimately wanting to be alone with his beloved. Bernice was a huge part of their lives.
Shay hoped Bernice would pull through, but given her age… Still it was shock. She'd been indomitable for years with a spine of steel and a body meant for lusty horizontal dancing. Of course, she’d relied on frequent surgeries to keep her in as decent shape as modern medicine allowed. The what and how of all that was a secret between Bernice and her doctor.
Speaking of secrets, Shay remembered Bernice’s comment about making a deal with the devil. She wished she understood what she meant by that.
There was no mythical devil in Shay's world. All people were capable of doing evil things, but few thrived on it. Those that did were...the worst. She had experiences with a different reality, giving her insights that well and truly locked her mind to a whole different belief system. One where evil was an all-too-common occurrence. And where dead wasn't necessarily dead.
Shay walked into her Portland apartment later and kicked off her shoes. The waterfront view called to her troubled soul, promising to ease and sooth her tattered nerves. But first she wanted to be comfortable. She changed out of her evening wear into cami and pants, then walked back into her kitchen where she popped the cork on an open bottle of wine. She poured herself a glass and with that in hand, she walked out to the small garden deck to sit under the stars. She needed this space.
It had been a long day.
The stars shone bright in the clear sky, easing the pain slightly. Her life would be forever changed. Bernice had been a huge influence and would be dearly missed.
When her tattered nerves calmed, Shay checked in with Stefan – her friend, her mentor, her apprentice. Who'd have thought she’d have anything to teach the incredibly gifted psychic? Not her.
But he'd convinced her she had something to offer.
She could do some energy tricks and he told her those had value.
And you do, he said in her mind, interrupting her musing. Stop second-guessing yourself.
Too tired to bother, she answered back readily. I'm going to call you on the phone. Hang on. She picked up the phone and dialed his number. "Hey. Bernice had an attack of some kind. A stroke, maybe. I don't know. It was weird the way it happened. She's at the hospital right now, but I don't know how she is."
"You do, but you don't want to look that close."
That was true. She didn't. Some things she didn't want to know.
"Yes." Shay hesitated. Stefan, like her, had seen too much of the world. "Something else happened at the same time. I want to shrug it off, but––"
"But you can't. So tell me."
Haltingly, she refocused her thoughts and explained the weird sense that someone else had stared – no, blinked – out at her from Bernice's gaze.
"And this wasn't a possession?"
"No. There was no sensation that anyone took her body, took her over in any way. At least that I could sense at the time. Except that damn gaze, as if someone else was looking out at the world from within her head. It was beyond freaky." She took a deep breath. "It was almost like what I saw that night."
"That night?" he asked.
"Yes. When Darren died." A half-choking laugh escaped. "No, it couldn't be anything to do with him... That's crazy."
"Hmmm."
"What do you think is happening?" She knew he was going to ask her to check and, damn it, she didn't want to. She didn't want to delve into the dark and see the boogeyman tonight.
"I'm not sure. I'll have to ponder it." His voice faded slightly. She smiled and settled back, realizing Stefan was off in his psychic realm, disappearing into the mist like only he could.
Having a psychic in your life meant adjusting to new privacy rules.
She shivered. Being psychic made you who you were. Every aspect of your life was affected. You just didn't always like how. None of her ‘regular’ friends knew of her abilities. And she preferred it that way.
It was hard to find anyone who could understand. For that reason, she didn't see her friendship with Stefan ever lessening. Changing, perhaps, as each grew and developed, but their connection would never stop. They couldn't sever it if they wanted to. And they didn’t. Connected on the ethers as they were, it felt as if they were psychic twins. And if that concept didn't blow a person's mind, then nothing would.
Now she was used to the connection, and she appreciated the closeness of someone's life mirroring hers. Thankfully, they were not exactly the same, but enough alike so she didn't feel alone – anymore.
And she knew it was the same for Stefan.
Stefan was a special friend. He was not her lover, but they had a friendship in the deepest sense. Something most men would say was impossible. But most women would be envious of such a relationship. And Stefan wasn't gay.
She'd asked the stunningly handsome man early on in their relationship and his answering look of horror had kept her laughing for days. Even now the memory made her grin.
Another time he'd told her his partner was living her life, unaware that he was there waiting. And that Shay herself was doing the same thing. He told her if she'd look harder, she'd find the truth of his words.
The thing is, she saw too damn much as it was. Why would she want to look any closer?
"Stefan?" she said cautiously, not wanting to pull him free if he wasn't ready to return to this reality.
"I'm here. Just trying to see what's going on with Bernice."
Shay straightened. "What do you see?"
"Not sure. Her body is almost gone. Lots of energy filling the room right now. Her soul is free and wandering the room. It just doesn't feel...right, though."
"That's hardly scientific." She almost laughed. The two of them used their senses the way other people used facts and logic. "You know how the rest of the world would react to your statement?"
"Good thing they don't know about it then, isn't it? There are several people in Bernice's room."
"Is my grandfather there?" In her heart, she hoped so. Pappy had been holding a lost-love candle for Bernice for decades. He'd loved her and lost her, according to him, and Bernice was a once-around type of gal. So far no male had managed to hang onto her. Pappy was just one in a long line of discarded lovers. She wondered if Bernice had any idea how many broken hearts she'd left behind.
"Maybe you should go to the hospital. She's fading quickly."
"I'm not sure I want to be there when she passes."
"She wants you there."
Damn. Shay really didn't want to go. Not just because of the whole hospital thing, but there was the death thing. And then there was also the whole Pappy thing.
"She's calling for you."
Shay stood up, asking sharply, "She's awake?"
"No."
"She's
calling on the ethers for you," Stefan murmured.
"What?" Shay gasped. "How is that possible? I never heard her."
"She's struggling to be heard. She is new to this. But she knows. She's always known about you."
***
Shay, now in jeans and t-shirt, walked across the hospital parking lot, all her psychic guards solidly locked in place. Like most people gifted with psychic abilities, she hated these institutions. The veil between life and death was thin here. Those overly affected by liminal places had to strengthen their walls to stop the emotions from creeping into their own psyches. Then, of course, there were the walking, talking, living ghosts in every hallway.
The new wing on the children's hospital that Shay’s foundation was funding was different. The energy lighter, brighter. Livelier. Innocent. And ghost-free – so far.
Other psychics saw the ghosts themselves, whereas Shay saw the ghost of the person's energy. A slight but important difference.
She read, saw, understood energy.
The auric energy. Someone’s chakra energy. The way a person used that energy. The way their body used its energy to function and to heal. Not a very useful skill to most people, but to some people, who wanted the information she could provide, she could be a little too useful. And had learned to keep her mouth shut.
If anyone needed to know what a person did with their money, for example, she could find out. Or if someone needed to know if someone else was trustworthy. Or how stable someone was mentally… These were things she could tell with a degree of certainty. She knew, to her own regret, that she wasn't infallible. That when it had counted most, she'd been fooled the same as everyone else.
Hence the need to ensure the secrecy regarding her talents and her joy in the relationship she had with Stefan. He knew and he cared...for her. Not about what she could do for him. Or what information she could supply. Or how she could use that information to his advantage.
He told her there was a group of similar-minded people, all with…abilities like hers. She’d met a few. And probably would enjoy meeting the ones she hadn’t. When Stefan said that day would come, she’d smiled.
She entered the hospital entrance and took the right turn down the empty hallways. It had been a tough day already and she didn't think she'd like the way the night would end. Bernice's attack had sent all thought of Roman from her head – at the time. Now however...
The thought of his wall made her cringe.
Shay also knew that having a protective wall didn't make him a sociopath. It made him someone with something to hide. The what of the something was what concerned her.
He'd made his interest in her clear, and prior to walking into that room, she'd been crystal clear about him too. Now...she had to ask some hard questions. And she had to reconcile the overwhelming attraction she’d felt between them, that inner knowing that said he was worth it, with the fear that a relationship with him could end badly.
She didn't want to go down that road again.
Her abilities should have shown her who the real Darren was – at least enough to have sent her running in the opposite direction.
Only she'd seen nothing wrong in his energy.
Instead she'd let herself be lulled into a false sense of security, sucked into the new love relationship and all the giddiness that state offered. Sure, they'd had problems. Truthfully, there had been times she’d had her doubts about the major step she agreed to take – marriage wasn't for the faint of heart. But she'd put her doubts down to first-time wedding jitters.
Until that night when he’d entered her home unannounced and she’d realized it was too late.
After the mess had finally ended, she'd gone into a full-blown crisis over her ability to accurately see the energy of those closest to her. Always looking for what she might have missed. She’d locked down her feelings and that had created huge trust issues for herself and others.
But was that fair to Roman?
No. But trust, once crushed, was hard to offer again.
In Darren's case, she’d tried to read him and had seen only what he wanted her to see. In Roman's case, she'd read him and had seen the damn wall. And had nearly bolted. What was he hiding? And did it matter?
The long hospital hallway finally ended. She turned the corner and entered Bernice's private room.
"Shay, I'm so glad you made it in time." Her grandfather stood at Bernice's bedside, cradling her pale, limp hand in his. Even after all this time, his love, open and hurting, shone from deep inside his puppy-dog eyes. "She's failing, my dear. I fear she won't last long." Pappy's rheumy gaze zeroed in on Shay sorrowfully. "I'd hoped she'd wake up, at least one more time, but it appears she'll go off gently in the night."
"And maybe that's the best way, Pappy." Shay wrapped an arm around her beloved grandfather's frail shoulders and squeezed. "We don't want her to suffer."
He shook his bowed head, the corner of his lips trembling. "No. We don't."
"Well, Charles. Has there been any change?" Gerard Chandler walked into the private hospital room, disrupting their moment. He and her grandfather were old friends, and both were Bernice's lovelorn suitors. Shay smiled at Gerard and saw the same ravaging grief as on Pappy's face.
"No. She hasn't moved a muscle, unfortunately." Pappy patted Bernice's hand. "Shay just arrived in time to say good-bye."
"Good. Now she can tell us herself what happened last night." Gerard took up the matching position to Pappy's on the far side of Bernice's bed, glaring at her as if Bernice's condition was all Shay’s fault. "Roman explained, but we need to hear it from you."
Knowing that both elderly men needed to hear every scrap of information she had, she went over the evening's events. "That's all I know," she lied. "Dr. Fitzpatrick, who was on hand at the gathering, looked after her, and the paramedics arrived very quickly."
She waited a beat, swallowing to moisten her dry throat. "There was nothing I could do to help her," she said, her voice thick with emotion. She said this more for herself than for them. "There was nothing anyone could do."
There was no point telling them what she'd seen in Bernice's eyes at the end. They wouldn't understand. Hell, she didn't understand.
Pappy nodded, reached out one hand and patted her shoulder. "Of course, my dear. I know you did everything you could. It’s just her time. And soon, it will be ours."
"Speak for yourself," Gerard grumped. "I'm not ready to kick off."
"I don't think Bernice was either." Shay smiled at the memory. "Just moments before she collapsed, she urged me to start living again. She looked and acted normal. Was our typical, vibrant, life-loving Bernice."
Both men nodded.
Pappy said, "She was unique. Everyone knew and loved her."
The way he spoke, using the past tense, showed an acceptance of what was coming. She opened her psychic vision to see how Bernice's energy was doing and barely stifled a gasp. There was a skin of energy lying heavy and pale on top of her body…as if Bernice's astral body lay on top of her physical body. Shay tracked the pale energy upward to Bernice's face. It lay in peaceful repose as if asleep. That was all good. The end would be soon.
Also good was that the silver cord that connected her astral body to her physical body was thin and weak. Almost ready to be severed. Except a tiny thread wafted around the room. She tried to trace it and found a mass of light gently shimmering energy by the window ledge.
Bernice.
Or what was left of Bernice – her astral soul might be a better way to put it. It was more ghostlike than an astral projection. More ghostlike than those walking on the ethers. This was Bernice as she was ready to depart. And there was still a sparkle to her. A luminescence she'd appreciate. Shay had to smile. Even in transition, Bernice would shine.
And Shay could just imagine Bernice trying to raise a little hell on the other side.
She let her gaze wander the room, looking for a way to interact with Bernice's energy without being noticed. She couldn't guarantee
that Bernice would respond; she might not be cognizant in this state – most weren't.
If only she could get the two men to leave the room.
As if on cue, Gerard's phone rang. Pappy snapped at him for disturbing Bernice's solitude.
"It's Roman," Charles said. "He's just arrived. Come out in the hallway. We need to discuss Bernice's arrangements."
Pappy stiffened. "She's not gone yet!"
But Pappy trundled toward the door. The two men stood in the doorway, their heads bent together.