The Awakening s-1

by L. L. Foster

  "Right now, yeah. But I want you to enjoy the movie and the food, so we'll put off this discussion for another time."

  Just like Luther to get her curiosity roused, then shut down. "But—"

  He kissed her. "Shhh. Watch the movie." He settled his arm around her and, as if he'd read her thoughts, added in a whisper close to her ear, "After the movie, I promise, we'll pick up on the conversation again."

  Oh. Well then. She supposed that'd be okay. "I'm holding you to that." With that declaration made, Gaby settled back in her seat, propped her feet on the seat back in front of her, and absorbed the unique experience of watching a movie on the big screen.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When the credits began to roll, Gaby roused herself from her lethargic pose and mellow mood. Wow. Never had she felt so peaceful, so… outside herself and her annoying insights. Who knew a little dose of unreality could be so relaxing?

  Theater lights flickered on, pushing away the darkness. She turned to Luther only to find him studying her. "What?"

  Rather than share her mellow disposition, an earthy appetite intensified his hard-edged allure. "I like seeing you like this."

  "This?"

  He looked at her mouth. "Soft."

  That got her back up. "I'm not. Ever."

  "Yeah you are, Gaby," he insisted, and his gaze dropped somewhere below her chin and above her knees. "In lots of places."

  Gaby snorted. "Now you just sound corny." But he didn't. Not really.

  Luther smiled, ready to say something—and his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Resigned, he settled back. "Damn, I'm sorry. But even off duty, I need to take this."

  While he lifted out the phone, Gaby stood and let her seat fold. "No problem."

  Into the phone, he said, "Hello?" He listened, frowned, and a second later, his gaze settled on Gaby again.

  "Hang on, Ann." Covering the mouthpiece, he searched Gaby's face. "I need to take this in private."

  So he could talk to Ann. Gaby's lip curled. "Yeah. Right." She made no attempt to hide her scorn. "I need some fresh air now, anyway." Shoving past him, she said, "I'll be hanging out front."

  "You won't wander off?"

  Like a halfwit? Or a child? "If I decide to leave, I'll tell you first." As she walked away, she heard Luther snarl something, then go back to his conversation on the phone.

  Grumbling her way through the theater lobby, Gaby shoved open the front doors and stepped out into the drowning humidity.

  She paced.

  Up one side of the sidewalk and then back again. Disgusted with herself, she dropped down to sit on the dirty curb and stared at her feet.

  Jealous.

  That's what she was. And stupid. Real stupid.

  Why should she give a damn if the detective liked Ann? It wasn't as if the two of them had any future together, anyway. And no one in her right mind would expect Luther Cross to play in celibacy. Not long.

  Gaby was deep into her own misery when from somewhere to her left, a small voice said, "Hi."

  Jerking her head around so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash, Gaby eyed the girl—the one she'd told Mort she wanted to see—standing on the sidewalk behind her.

  "You!" Gaby couldn't credit such a coincidence. Hell, she didn't believe it. No way.

  What did it mean?

  Overly cautious, the girl inched closer. "You remember me?"

  "Course I do." Cleaned up and without the blood and tears, something recognizable remained. It was in her eyes, some world-weary cynicism too deep for one of her young years.

  What stumped Gaby most was the soft yellow aura enveloping her in a loving embrace. The color of mental ability and great purpose seemed out of place on one so… misguided. The girl probably had no idea yet of the important role she'd play in life.

  Hopefully she'd realize it before it was too late.

  Today, she wore a super-short denim skirt and a pale pink T-shirt that hugged her body too closely, showing off details better left undiscovered.

  With an eerie foreboding, Gaby gave the girl a questioning look.

  The high, chunky wooden heels of her sandals clunked on the sidewalk as she shifted. "You live around here?"

  Thoughts moiling, Gaby chose a deliberate, casual pose, relaxing her spine, propping her elbows on her knees. "Not too far away. You?"

  "Not really." The girl eyed the spot beside Gaby. "You mind if I join ya? My feet are killin' me."

  "It's a free country."

  "Not really, it ain't." The girl sidled up and carefully lowered herself to the curb. "Not for girls like me."

  "Like you?"

  "Yeah, you know. A whore. Alone and poor and stuff." She stretched out her legs and wiggled her dusty toes. "I've been walkin' and walkin' for hours, it seems."

  She sat so close that Gaby inhaled the stale odor or overused cologne, sweat, and sex. Nose wrinkling, Gaby eased away a few inches. "What's your name?"

  "Bliss."

  That had Gaby's eyes rolling. "You going to tell me that's your real name?"

  "No." Bliss picked at a tiny scab on her knee. "But it's pretty, don'tcha think?"

  "I suppose." Gaby also supposed she wouldn't get the truth from the girl, so she didn't bother trying. What she called herself didn't really matter. Not in the bigger scheme of things.

  What did she want? "I'm Gaby."

  Bliss nodded, let out a long sigh. Attempting an overt friendliness, she shook back her hair, folded her hands in her lap, and smiled at Gaby. "I usually hang out with Rose, but I haven't seen her for a couple days now."

  "Rose?"

  "Another hooker."

  The smile shrank away.

  The idle hands grew fidgety again.

  "She's my friend. My only friend, I guess. I was lookin' for her down this way, and that's when I saw you."

  So much worry hung in Bliss's words, Gaby had to ask. "Where did your friend, Rose, go?"

  Rounded shoulders lifted. "I dunno." She stared away. "I'm thinkin' maybe she got tired of me hangin' around."

  Sympathy wrestled with Gaby's natural sense of caution. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "I doubt that's it."

  "Well, she used to come lookin' for me at nights, almost like a momma would."

  Bliss's bottom lip quivered, but Gaby sensed it wasn't so much with sadness as with fear.

  "Sometimes," Bliss whispered, "if'n she wasn't workin' she'd even let me stay with her."

  "Rose has a house?"

  Bliss gave her a look of incredulity. "No."

  "Ail apartment then?"

  Arms wrapped herself, Bliss shook her head—and couldn't meet Gaby's gaze. "Most of us on the street jus' look for a place out of the weather, where cops won't trip over us. Rose found a place in the woods."

  "In the woods?"

  "Yeah. Me and her sometimes stayed there, in this old abandoned place. That's all."

  Old abandoned place. The pieces—the conspiracy—began to click together. "Where, Bliss?"

  Something in Gaby's tone made Bliss withdraw. "We didn't break in or nothin'."

  "Where?"

  At Gaby's stern voice, Bliss jumped and looked at her with accusation and hurt and… more fear. "It's an old hospital or something."

  Oh God.

  "It stinks real bad, and it's sort of scary." Bliss swallowed hard. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

  How could she not? She'd destroyed many of them. "Of course." Gaby looked back at the theater door, but there was no sign of Luther. "Listen to me, Bliss, You should stay out of those woods, and you should definitely stay away from that hospital."

  "But…"

  "It's scary because disordered, rancorous spirits possess it."

  Bliss's eyes went round. "Spirits?"

  Nodding, Gaby said, "Not just spirits from the deceased either. The average person has such a fairy-tale perception of evil. They think energized emissions come only from those who have passed."

  "You mean from dead p
eople?"

  "Exactly. But that's not the case. Not always." Gaby visualized the isolation hospital, the way it had made her feel, and she almost shivered. "Definitely not the case with that place."

  "You're scaring me, Gaby."

  "Good." Maybe she'd heed Gaby's warning and stay away from the hospital, "Dead, alive, sick, tormented, and tortured spirits stir the air all around that place. It's wicked, and treacherous."

  In awe and worry, Bliss stared at her. "You've been there?"

  "Yeah." Gaby had to make the girl understand. "Malevolent discarnates overrun that hospital and the grounds around it. Not just the dead, Bliss. But spirits of deranged people, desperately unhappy people whose circumstances have adversely affected their behavior."

  Bliss whispered, "So you're sayin' there's live people there who'd wanna hurt me?"

  How could the girl be so stupid? "Exactly. They might not be consciously evil. They could be confused, desperate, unaware of how their actions hurt others. But that makes them no less dangerous for someone like you." For someone like Gaby, it was a whole different story. "Promise me you won't go there again."

  "I… I never wanted to go there in the first place. And now without Rose…" She chewed her lips. "But that's what I was gonna say to you—what if somethin' happened to Rose? What if she's there and hurt and I'm too chicken-shit to check on her?" Big tears spilled over Bliss's painted lashes, leaving muddy tracks on her cheeks. "What if them spirits have her is why I ain't seen her?"

  It amazed Gaby that one person could look so pitiful and pathetic. Against her better judgment, with warning bells going off all through her system, Gaby said, "Don't start sniveling on me, okay? I'll go there to look for Rose."

  Relief nearly melted Bliss over the curb. "You'd do that? Really?" She wiped at her eyes—and in the process removed some of her makeup, too. "When?"

  That's when Gaby noticed the lingering braises. The girl had not had an easy life. Maybe that's why, despite her wariness. Gaby felt an affinity to her. "Right now, if you want me to."

  "Now?"

  "Yeah." Luther could damn well talk all night to Ann, since that seemed his intention anyway.

  "But…" Again looking away, Bliss shook her head. "If you go right now, and Rose ain't hurt, she wouldn't be there."

  "No?" Gaby's eyes narrowed. "Where would she be then?"

  Bliss drew away a little. "Um… Could be she's just mad at me or somethin' and maybe that's why she's not around."

  Gaby saw the deception in every line of Bliss's body. "So now you think she's unhurt?"

  "I dunno. Maybe. I'm just sayin', if she's not hurt, this time of night she would be workin'."

  The cloud of conspiracy thickened—but that didn't deter Gaby. For whatever reason, she felt she needed to follow Bliss's lead, to carry out the plan. "Okay, Bliss. So if you don't want me to check on Rose now, then when should I?"

  "I… I dunno." Nearly choking on the words, Bliss turned away. She fretted with the fringe off the end of her denim skirt. Misery weighed her down. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

  Gaby tilted her head. "You apologizing to me or Him?"

  "What?" Bliss floundered in confusion. "No, I… You was so nice to me, and you already helped enough."

  "But?"

  Firming her resolve, Bliss drew a deep breath and blurted, "I shouldn't be dumping all this on you. I know that. But I…"

  Don't have a choice, Gaby silently finished for her. Someone had coerced the girl, likely applying with threats either to her, or to a friend… perhaps Rose.

  For once, Gaby put aside her suspicions and reached out to take Bliss's hand. "It's all right." And she meant it. Everything would be all right. Even a conspiracy. "Tell me when I should go."

  Eyes squeezed shut, Bliss whispered, "She'd be most likely to be there tomorrow night." She drew a broken, shuddering breath, and whispered very low, "Will you please be careful?"

  "I always am."

  At that firm statement, Bliss opened her eyes again. She looked at Gaby, and some of her upset abated. "You will, won'tcha? You'll be real careful and everything really will be okay."

  "Yeah." It'd be fine for Gaby, and hopefully for Bliss. But for the restless spirits—from both the dead and the tormented—hell would make some claims.

  With a new calm about her, Bliss tried a small smile. "There's a lot of buildings by the old hospital. You need to go to the one with graffiti on the walls. That's the place. Rose might be in there, on the first floor."

  "So specific." Gaby shook her head at the easily thwarted plan. Definitely a scheme. And not a very bright one. "Any particular time tomorrow?"

  "After dark, but before midnight."

  "That's when you and Rose would hang out there?"

  "Yeah." Appearing more relaxed. Bliss said, "I remember how you fought that guy in the alley. You was like a superhero or a ninja or maybe both." She gazed at Gaby with adoring eyes. "I never seen nothin' like it."

  "I know."

  "You saved me, so you should be able to save yourself, huh?"

  A verbal slipup, that. "Yeah, I can save myself." Taking a chance, Gaby said, "I'm sorry I couldn't save Rose, though."

  Bliss started to nod, then caught herself with a sharply indrawn breath. She reared back in fear and shock, looking around the sidewalk. "I gotta go. I shouldn't have sat here talkin' so long."

  "It's all right." They both stood, and Gaby said, "Go on. But Bliss?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Be careful tonight, okay? Stay out of the shadows and alleys. Stay where there are people."

  "I will." Bliss turned—and ran into Luther.

  He caught her arms, but looked beyond her to Gaby. "Making friends?"

  Well hell. For a minute there, Gaby had forgotten all about him. "Bliss and I are already acquainted."

  "Bliss, huh?" Luther's expression sharpened and he looked at the girl with new interest. "Is that so?"

  Seeing Luther sent Bliss into a terror and she bolted away in a run made more graceless by those hideous sandals.

  Frowning, Gaby watched her disappear around a corner; utilizing her crazy intuition, she knew Bliss would be okay. She dismissed any worries and instead put her mind to figuring out the treachery that had been awkwardly presented.

  "Let me guess."

  Gaby recalled Luther's presence. "Don't bother. She's the girl I helped the other night."

  "The girl who was there when you stabbed her attacker."

  "One and the same."

  "And somehow, she just ran into you here?"

  "Actually," Gaby said on her way to his car, "I think she was looking for me."

  Luther beat her to the door and opened it for her. "To thank you?"

  "Not exactly." She seated herself, reached back to adjust the knife in the sheath so it didn't gouge her spine, and then waited while Luther studied her.

  "What exactly?"

  Impassive and unprovoked, Gaby stared up at him. "What did Ann want?"

  He sighed—and slammed her door. When he got behind the wheel and had the engine humming, he said, "I can't tell you."

  "Ah." Gaby propped her feet on the dash. "So it was something all sugary sweet and intimate, huh? I understand." She was probably better off not knowing. "That's not the sort of a thing a man like you shares, I guess."

  "Actually, it was business."

  "Sure it was." With any luck, she'd annoy him as much as he annoyed her.

  "Ann is a detective too, if you'll recall." He jerked the car into drive. "She had some information for me, and no, I'm not telling you what it is because I don't want you involved."

  Gaby shook her head at his absurdity. At this point, there was no way for her to be uninvolved—but Luther wouldn't accept that. "You know, Luther, for a little while there I stupidly thought that we'd be able to work together. I see now that I was wrong." She put her head back and relaxed. "You don't trust me and I sure as hell don't trust you."

  "You don't, huh?" He curled the fingers of his right hand
over her slim thigh and, steering one-handed, pulled out into traffic.

  "Well…" Awareness of his touch, how hot he felt, how electric, moderated her tone. "Maybe I'd trust you with some things."

  "I figured." With a gentle pat, Luther withdrew.

  Jerk. "But not business."

  Hands flexing on the wheel, Luther said, "Look, it's police work and has nothing to do with you."

  "Bullshit. It has to do with that doctor at the hospital, or those cancerous monsters, otherwise it wouldn't matter if you told me. And if that's the case, it's very much my business."

  He glared an accusation at her.

  "Yeah, too bad I'm not an idiot, huh?" Gaby folded her arms. "All right. Let me take a stab at guessing."

  Visibly frustrated, Luther growled, "Don't bother." He flexed his hands again, then gritted out, "Ms. Davies' body is missing."

  Gaby's feet hit the floorboard in shock. "You're shitting me."

  Now his hands squeezed the steering wheel tight enough to crush it. "I wish, but no. Somewhere between the hospital and the crematorium, she vanished."

  "Crematorium?"

  "Apparently that's how she wanted things."

  "But now her body is gone." Gaby's thoughts scrambled at the enormity of such a thing. "How could something like that happen?"

  "With cover-ups, I'm guessing. A poor old woman with no family and no friends… who would normally notice?" Luther glanced at her. "Except you."

  Uh oh. Luther had that leery, take-apart-her-psyche look again. He didn't appear angry so much as… curious.

  And curiosity about her was never a good thing.

  "Lucky guess on my part, that's all. The minute I heard Dr. Marton talking about the patients, and heard what the nurses and Dr. Chiles thought of him, I figured something was up. Any fool would have put it together."

  "No, Gaby." Luther reached for her hand. "You have a gift, a special intuition and a deeper perception that few people possess."

  Luther had a way of making compliments sound like accusations, and vice versa, to the point that Gaby never quite knew how to take him. "If you say so."

  "It scares the hell out of me because you've also got a stubborn streak and a save-the-world attitude." He gave one shake of his head. "It's going to get you into trouble one of these days."