by R. J. Blain
There was something fascinating about the flicker of the light overhead. As though afraid of the doctors and nurses, it waited until I was alone to taunt me with its buzzing and erratic illumination. The switch to turn it off, which was inches away from my hand, may as well have been on the moon. I turned my attention to the button, wondering if I could find the strength to defeat the taunting light once and for all.
It won yet again, buzzing and flickering, mocking me.
I should have been grateful to be alive instead of annoyed at the dying bulb. Somehow, I survived an assault rifle round to the chest coupled with diamond-shard shrapnel embedded in my breastbone. I’d never know for certain how the round hadn’t punched through me, leaving nothing but a bloodied pulp in its wake.
When my interest in how I had gotten to a hospital wavered, I wondered if I would survive Evelyn’s wrath once she found out I had stopped a bullet with my chest. If she didn’t finish me off, I expected my brother, Zachary, Gerald, and Richard would battle for the honor. I deserved their fury for being stubborn and stupid.
As the drugs lost their hold on me, they left me unable to escape the reality of what had happened.
Without the blood diamond, Jacqueline’s soul was lost for good. Unlike her mother, there was no longer any hope for me to bring her back from the dead. My daughter was gone, and because I hadn’t listened, because I had been so determined to do everything on my own, there was no way left for me to get her back.
Suzanne had won yet again.
I wished the drugs would steal away my coherency so I wouldn’t have to be left alone with my guilt. I stared up at the flickering bulb, unable to bring myself to turn it off when it was determined to cling to its flickering life.
When the nurse finally came by on her rounds, she wasn’t alone.
My father regarded me with a frown before examining the assortment of machines monitoring my vitals and medications. After the nurse finished her work and left, he said, “When I offered to bail you out, I didn’t mean from a hospital.”
My tongue didn’t want to cooperate with me. I was both pleased and dismayed by my croaked, “Sorry.”
“Your doctor—a charming lady, if I do say so myself—informs me that you stopped a rifle round with your chest. You’re very lucky to be alive, I hope you know.”
“Sorry,” I rasped again.
“Good. Your mother is on the hunt for a hotel. I spoke with your doctor, and if you keep improving as you have been, you’ll be released in a couple of days.”
“Call Evelyn?” I asked.
“Already done; I did so as soon as the hospital called me, which was last night. Of all of the people you could have had them call, you picked us?”
I winced at the memory of floundering for a contact and ultimately drawing blanks until thinking of my father. “I remembered your number.”
“Your doctor informed me that your memory is patchy in places. I’ve also been told that’s relatively normal.”
“My doctor talks too much,” I complained.
“It’s your fault for authorizing me.” My father shook his head with a chuckle. “Now you’re stuck with me, boy.”
While I hadn’t spent any real time with my father since I had been little, I knew enough about him to understand that he wouldn’t leave my circumstances alone until he was satisfied. When he emailed orders, he accepted nothing other than my best and threatened hell on me for failure.
It was easier to surrender than to fight him.
“What do you know?” I asked hesitantly.
“More than you’ll appreciate, I suspect. I told you I spoke with Evelyn.”
I shuddered at the thought of my father interrogating Evelyn. “You did?”
“I did. She told me you had triggered a couple of earthquakes. So much for you being a minor earth witch.”
Mumbling curses under my breath, I considered my options. There wasn’t a lot I could say without damning myself further. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Evelyn told me that someone was targeting the supernatural and turning them into the living dead. Is it true?”
“It’s true.”
“Suzanne had been one of their victims, hadn’t she?”
Once I told my father the truth, there would be no turning back. While I wasn’t certain if I could trust him, I also didn’t know if I could afford to remain silent.
It hurt, thinking of all that Suzanne had done to me and to our daughter. It hurt, and I didn’t have the strength to change any of it. I had gotten my revenge, but it left me empty. Jacqueline was gone, and the place she had once warmed hurt like the rest of me.
“Suzanne wasn’t a victim,” I whispered, acknowledging the truth once and for all.
In that, everyone had been right. She had never been a victim. In her cunning, deceitful way, she had taken advantage of me and left me with nothing, not even our child.
“What do you mean?”
“She was one of them. She didn’t want to be a witch. She wasn’t a victim. She was a willing participant.”
My father sucked in a breath. “You have proof of this?”
I closed my eyes and sighed. “She told me so, right around when she pulled the trigger.”
A hospital room was never really silent; the machines hummed and beeped. Noises from the hall added a low, constant thrum despite the closed door.
“Suzanne was the one who shot you.” The anger in my father’s tone mollified me a little.
“She murdered our daughter.” I swallowed, wondering if I could have saved Suzanne from her death, had I chosen to act instead of watching her burn. With a bullet in my chest, I doubted I could have moved fast enough.
I hadn’t tried at all. I had let her die without moving so much as a finger to help her. Maybe I hadn’t meant to cause a volcanic eruption in Montreal, but I hadn’t done a single thing to stop it, either.
“Evelyn told me about Jacqueline. What happened to Suzanne?”
“She burned.”
“During the eruption?”
I nodded. “It started after she shot me.”
“A merciful end,” my father grumbled. “Evelyn was under the impression that you were after Jacqueline’s killers and you had, in your infinite wisdom, decided it was your hunt and your hunt alone. She’s influenced you, boy. You, a hunter? She was both proud and furious, I’ll have you know. She’s going to be a handful once she gets here.”
“I was stupid.”
“Good. You know you were stupid. What will you do differently in the future?”
“Bring backup,” I muttered.
“You’re learning. I’m going to tell your brother that he better make certain you get proper training if you’re going to be diving head first into trouble all of the time. It’s bad enough that he gets too involved with his work. I thought you knew better. Of course not, you’re twins. Why am I surprised? I shouldn’t be surprised. I told them all twins were nothing but trouble.”
I cracked open an eye to glower at my father. “Does Elliot know?”
“Elliot is aware that you are in the hospital. I’ll spare you the details. I’ve made certain that there were no misunderstandings about your status. They aren’t happy with me, however. I neglected to inform them which hospital you were in—or which city they took you to. Once you are healed enough to handle their company, I will inform them.”
“But, Evelyn—”
“She will be perfectly fine waiting for a few days until you are released. As soon as I tell her where you are, she’ll abandon the important things she is currently doing to be with you. As I see it, I’m doing her a favor. There’s no need for so many individuals standing watch over you.”
I sighed, too tired, achy, and drugged to fight with him. “She’s okay?”
“She’s fine. She’s appropriately concerned for your wellbeing. I promised her I would take good care of you until you’re safely back in her custody.”
“I’m not property,” I mumble
d.
“Oh?”
“What do you mean by that?” I demanded.
When he laughed without answering me, I spat curses at him.
~~*~~
Eight days after my parents made their first appearance at the hospital, I was released. Blood loss and risk of infection proved to be the delaying factors, although I think my surgeon was baffled over the rapid rate of my recovery and was keeping me as an excuse to study me.
I think if she had her way, I would have remained in the hospital indefinitely, serving as a living experiment so she could research the truth behind my healing abilities. My father’s prideful claim of good genes hadn’t lessened the woman’s eagerness to keep me around for observation.
“Next time, let Mother do the talking,” I grumbled as I filled out the last of the discharge papers, exchanging the clipboard for an intimidating stack of prescriptions.
My father claimed them with a huff. “I only spoke the truth.”
“One day, I’m going to go over the family tree and find out how many times the damned thing doesn’t fork,” I warned, snatching the sheaf of papers back out of my father’s hand.
“Twice,” my mother supplied, and before I could stop her, she took the prescriptions from me, flipping through them. “Behave, both of you.”
“Yes, Mother,” I replied, swallowing back a sigh.
“And you said he couldn’t be taught, dear,” she murmured before pausing to read over one of the prescriptions. “They actually prescribed anti-nausea medication?”
“If you want me to eat, you want me taking those,” I warned.
My father herded us towards the elevator. “We’ll talk about it at the hotel. Let’s get him out of here before they come up with a reason to readmit him.”
I shuddered at the thought.
Filling prescriptions in downtown Toronto was an adventure, which tired me out enough that I was stifling yawn after yawn by the time we reached the hotel. The room proved to be a two bedroom suite split over two levels. I was directed to the bedroom on the main floor, to my relief.
I doubted I could handle having to go up and down the stairs.
“Sit and relax,” my father ordered, pointing at the living room’s armchair. “I’ll go give your woman a call and inform her of your location.”
“You could let me call her,” I countered.
“He who breaks his phone and leaves the crunched ruins under a collapsed bridge doesn’t get phone privileges.”
I winced. “You were tracking the phone, weren’t you?”
“Of course I was tracking the phone. I’m on the notification list for it. I’ll be picking up your replacement soon. Try not to break this one.”
“It wasn’t intentional.”
“So I’ve been led to understand. You’re going to have to be more careful, Dante. There really should be limits on how many times you’re kidnapped.”
I winced. “They were after Elliot.”
“I don’t care which one of you they were after. You need to be more careful.”
“Yes, sir.”
With a satisfied nod, my father pulled out his cell and headed up the stairs, leaving me with my mother, who took over the couch, watching me with her dark eyes. I still didn’t know what to make of her.
The memories of my childhood didn’t match the reality of the moment, which didn’t help me adapt to her presence in my life. Instead of the scorn and brisk criticisms I expected, she proved quiet. The intensity I remembered was still there, but when it didn’t manifest as snide remarks or jabs at my inability to be a good child, I was at a loss of what to say or do.
Between Evelyn and Richard, I’d grown accustomed to sharing space with a predator, but I couldn’t fathom what my mother was hunting or why.
For all I had been warned of the Fenerec, they were easy to understand.
My parents weren’t.
“You’ve changed,” my mother said, her eyes narrowing as she studied me.
“That does happen over the years,” I replied.
“You seem to have developed a sense of humor along with an unhealthy amount of sarcasm.”
I snorted. “I’ve always had a sense of humor.”
“A dry one prone to crumbling,” she muttered, soft enough that I doubted she meant for me to hear her.
“Blame Evelyn.” The thought of Evelyn meeting my parents sent shivers running through me. Would sparks fly between them, or would they join forces?
I had never introduced my parents to Suzanne. Would it have made a difference if I had? If Suzanne had known them, if she had known I had come from a wealthy family, would things have been different?
If I had introduced them to Suzanne, would I have ever met Evelyn?
I had lost a wife and my daughter, but I had gained someone irreplaceable as a result.
Evelyn would sink her teeth into me for my stunt, and I’d deserve every single thing she would do to me. I’d regret what I had done, but she wouldn’t leave me, of that I was certain.
She would understand. She’d be angry with me, but she would understand.
“You look thoughtful.”
“I’m wondering if you’ll like Evelyn or if I should start investing in a bomb-proof shelter,” I confessed.
“Evelyn seems like a lovely lady.”
“You’ve spoken with her?”
“As if I would allow your dolt of a father to handle something as important as talking to your new girlfriend,” she replied, arching a brow at me with the faintest of frowns.
“I heard that,” my father called from upstairs.
“You were supposed to.”
My father leaned over the railing, scowling at us. “Ruthless woman.”
“So when will she arrive in town?” I demanded.
“Patience, kiddo. She’ll get here when she gets here. Sorry about that, Evelyn. The wife and child are being insufferable.” With a dismissive wave of his hand, he stepped away from the rail and out of view.
My mother shook her head and sighed. “He thinks he is funny and clever when he isn’t.”
“Like Elliot?”
“Exactly. You, at least, seem to have had the wisdom to take after my side of the family.”
“I heard that!” my father called out.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked warily.
My mother’s grin was vicious. “You’re not the only black sheep, Dante. The nut never falls far from the tree.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
“One of your cousins can’t swim either,” she replied, and her smile chilled me to the bone. “I have a theory, and it’s one that your father dislikes.”
“Dare I ask?”
“I’m going to tell you, even if you don’t ask. It goes like this. My family, like the Anderson family, values Normals. Suffer not a witch and all that nonsense. But here’s the thing. By avoiding the supernatural, by trying to breed it out, I think we’ve made a big mistake.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, wondering if my mother had pilfered from my big bag of medications.
“Let me ask you a question. Are forests natural?”
After thinking about it for a moment, I replied, “I’d say so.”
“How about the ocean?”
“I’d say the ocean is pretty natural.”
“Tornadoes? Hurricanes?”
“Also natural,” I conceded.
“How about forest fires?”
“When caused by lightning, sure. Where are you going with this?”
“If forests are natural, if the oceans are natural, if storms are natural, and forest fires are natural, why do we insist that witches and other supernatural aren’t natural? Could it be that you are nothing but the product of generations of effort to create the most natural human being possible?” My mother chuckled, shaking her head. “Needless to say, this isn’t a conversation we often have. It goes against everything the Anderson family believes in. After all, how could anyone other than a
Normal police the supernatural?”
There was a sharp edge in my mother’s tone despite her laughter. We sat together in silence as I thought about her words and all of the things she implied but hadn’t said.
One conclusion intrigued me most of all. “You think that the supernatural should police themselves without the intervention of Normals.”
“I think the Inquisition is already in that situation, whether or not they realize it.”
“I’m not the Shadow Pope, Mother.”
“I’m well aware of that fact, Dante. Think about it. You’re twins, identical in all things.”
“Except for height,” I countered.
“The trees of a forest and the peaks of a mountain may be tall, but the oceans are deep,” she countered.
“I don’t think six inches makes me a tree or a mountain, Mother.”
“No, but water has always been the counter to earth—without water, the earth simply cannot thrive. I’ve always wondered why earth witches couldn’t swim. I have a theory on that too, if you’re interested.”
I had the feeling I was going to hear about it whether or not I was interested, so I surrendered with a nod.
“It isn’t that earth and water don’t get along—it’s the exact opposite. They get along too well. They need each other to survive. So, earth witches can’t swim because they’re too attuned to the water to be able to fight its hold. Without the land and ground, water lacks substance and power.”
“I could get a headache very quickly trying to follow this,” I confessed.
“Think about it this way. A drop of water, on its own, isn’t really dangerous. An ocean, however, is. An ocean needs shores to contain it. However, it is generally accepted that the element of earth includes things like forests and all living things. Without water, the earth is substantially weaker. Without the earth, so is water. Earth and water are the yin and yang of the elements. Think about it. If you’re a powerful earth witch, what does that make your brother?”
~~*~~
While I was fairly confident my mother was yanking my chain, I obsessed over the possibility of my brother being a witch. If she was right, and he was aligned with water, I worried what it meant for him. Would the Inquisition do everything in its power to get rid of him?