Divided (Elena Ronen, Private Investigator)

by Jennifer Sights

  “Still red. But this can’t be real.”

  “It is real.”

  Emmettt reached for Courtney’s hand and she took his gratefully.

  The hair on my arms stood on end, and the temperature in the room dropped. I knew it was not the physical temperature, though. A new power was in the room. I knew that power. Neal had come out of hiding.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  “You should go back to Miriam so she doesn’t think anything is wrong,” Emmettt tactfully turned Courtney away from the danger we might be in. Neal approached us as she walked away.

  “Vittorio. Elena. You look well.” He sounded disappointed. “I did not expect to see you here tonight. In fact, I did not expect to ever see you again.” He made no secret of the plans Samuel evidently had for us.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” I said.

  “I heard you have discovered a new power in yourself.”

  “Oh?” I said, not wanting to give anything away. The only new power was having brought Vittorio back to life, and I wasn’t sure I could repeat that performance. Even so, how would he know about that?

  “I have my ways,” he said, revealing a new power of his own - mind reading. “And if you can do it once, you can certainly do it again, given enough incentive.” He held a knife to Vittorio’s neck.

  How had he made it there so fast without any of us seeing the movement?

  “Dear Elena, you know everyone has different powers. Did you not think speed could be one of them? Now, let’s see. It would be a shame to get blood on this beautiful, white tux, don’t you think, Vittorio? How can we avoid that?” Neal looked upwards, pretending to think. I knew he already had a plan, though, and tried to come up with my own quickly. I would have to act upon it quickly, as well, before Neal read it in my thoughts. “I know, you can banish Elena from the city, swear your loyalty to Samuel, and give up your position as La Guardia.”

  “Do you really think I would agree to that?”

  “No, but it was worth a try. Perhaps I can banish both of you. No, you’re both too stubborn, that would never work. A pity. I guess I’ll just have to kill you, then torture Elena until she sides with us. Her power would be very useful.” Neal pushed the knife harder against Vittorio’s neck, not yet drawing blood. Would he really kill him here? I didn’t think so, and was happy for the time that bought us. Unless, that is, he proved to be that crazy. Insanity glinted in Neal’s eyes, but it was the type accompanied by cold precision and caution rather than recklessness. He pushed upwards with the knife. “Let’s go. You will walk out in front of me, but I will have this knife ready for any false move you make.”

  Vittorio stood. I followed, not sure if it was what Neal wanted, but not wanting to let Vittorio out of my sight. When Neal didn’t argue, I assumed it was the right decision. Emmettt started to follow, as well.

  “Not you. Sit.”

  Emmettt sat.

  “On second thought, I don’t want you calling for help after we leave. Not that you know where we’re going. But better to be safe. Yes, come with us.” Did he really believe Emmettt was the only one here who would call for help?

  “Yes, because no one else can see what’s going on. I have clouded their minds. Emmettt has the power to resist me, though.” He laughed when he looked at my face. “You look so shocked, Elena. Did you not believe I was this powerful? Samuel has an idea of my power, but only Clavius knew how powerful I truly am. I like it that way. At times like this, I am able to take people by surprise. And their shock is so amusing. The secret strength of my power is why Clavius left me behind, in case anything went wrong while he was away. Now go.”

  We filed down the stairs and out the front door of The Chapel. I wanted to look at Bryn, but was afraid to give anything away, afraid to put her in danger. I wondered if Emmettt had power other than the ability to resist mind manipulation. I couldn’t very well ask him in front of Neal, but it would have been helpful to know.

  Emmettt is weak. That is his only power. We will think of something. Neal is very fast, so we must be extremely careful.

  Since he can read minds, can he read what we’re saying to each other now?

  Most likely. We must be careful. I no longer heard Vittorio in my mind.

  “Get in the car.” Neal unlocked a dark blue Suburban with windows so darkly tinted one couldn’t see through them. He showed no sign of having read our silent conversation. We got in the back of the Suburban and Neal started driving. I huddled against Vittorio, scared of what might happen to him if we didn’t find a way out of this. The thought of what Neal would do to me never crossed my mind; I didn’t care about that.

  Neal stopped in a deserted area of a rundown part of town. “Get out, and stand by the car.” The three of us obeyed, still having no plan. “Not you, Elena. Stay in the car.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Do it!” he said, drawing his knife.

  I got into the passenger side front seat, away from where Vittorio and Emmettt stood, so I could open the door quickly if I had to.

  “Samuel thought you would be a problem, Vittorio, but he never foresaw just how much of one. Your little plaything doesn’t help matters. But she seems to have some useful powers, so we’ll keep her around. Watching me kill you might convince her to cooperate with me to save her own life.”

  “No! Don’t hurt him! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him!” I screamed from inside the Suburban.

  “Such strong love. Whatever I want. You have no idea what you are promising.”

  “I don’t care.” Tears streamed down my face.

  “Do you see, Vittorio? She cries for you. She is strong, but when it comes to you, she is weaker than anyone I have ever met. Would she betray you so easily, just to save your life?”

  “She would never betray me.” Even through the window, the conviction in Vittorio’s words rang clear. It warmed my heart that he could believe that so strongly, even after what I had done.

  “That’s not what she is saying, though. Are you so blind?”

  “You can read her thoughts. Why don’t you see for yourself?” What was Vittorio doing? Why would he tell Neal to invade my mind?

  I watched Neal cock his head as he concentrated. Had I not known what he was doing, I would never have been wiser. He left no trace, no whisper or touch in my mind as he read it. He was dangerous, this I knew.

  “You are right. She believes she would never betray you, yet still she says she would do anything to save your life. Interesting. I do not see how she can believe both so strongly. But that doesn’t matter. Killing you will cause her great pain, which I will enjoy immensely.”

  I caught the slightest movement, like a flicker of light, and knew Neal was making his move to murder the man I loved. I was powerless to stop him.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  “No!” I screamed. I wished for Vittorio to be alright, wished for Neal to be the one to die. As I wished that with all my being, time seemed to nearly stop. I saw Neal running toward Vittorio, the knife aimed for his heart. I saw him trip, though there was nothing in the way of his foot. He fell, arms flailing. I threw open the door and ran to Vittorio. It seemed to take ages, even though he was only a few feet from me. I watched as his arms reached for me. I didn’t understand what was happening. Was I in shock?

  Neal landed and his knife plunged into his own heart. Time resumed its normal pacing. I stared at Neal in horror. “Oh my god, I killed him!”

  “Of course you didn’t, mio amore.” Vittorio knelt next to me on the ground, holding me to him, trying to comfort me. I hadn’t realized I had collapsed to my knees next to Neal’s body.

  “I did. I killed him,” I sobbed.

  “Why do you say that?” Vittorio gently turned me to look at him.

  “I saw him coming at you with the knife, and I wished for him to die instead of you.”

  “He was moving too fast; you couldn’t have seen him.”

  “But I did, and I wished for you to be okay,
and for him to die. Then,” I could barely talk through my sobs.

  “Calm down, mio amore. Then what?” He stroked my hair, trying to calm me.

  “Everything slowed down, like slow motion in a movie. Neal tripped, but there was nothing in his way, and now he’s dead and it’s my fault. I don’t want to be a murderer!” I cried hysterically. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. I hadn’t just killed Neal with my thoughts. I always knew there was a possibility I would have to shoot someone on the job; some of my investigations were dangerous, and that’s why I carried a gun. But that would be self-defense. This, I had plainly wished for Neal to die. I didn’t want this. I wanted Vittorio safe, yes, but not at the cost of someone else’s life. Not when it was clearly my fault that someone was dead.

  “You can change this, mio amore,” Vittorio said, holding me.

  “How? I can’t go back in time.”

  “But you can bring Neal back to life.”

  “I don’t know how.” My stomach clenched; I was going to be sick.

  “You did it before. I believe if you simply wish strongly enough for him to be alive, you will succeed. Put your hands on him, hold him if you must, wish for him to live, but you must truly want it with all your being.”

  “I do want him to be alive.” If he was alive, it would mean I wasn’t a murderer, indirectly or otherwise.

  “Then make it so.”

  “But what if I fail?”

  He held my face in his hands and looked me in the eyes. “You have to try. Won’t you feel a little better knowing you tried and failed, than if you didn’t try at all?”

  I nodded.

  “Take him in your arms. Picture him alive, his heart beating. Picture him free of blood and whole. I know you can do this, mio amore.”

  The confidence I saw in his face scared me. He believed in me so completely. No one had believed in me like that since I told my mom I was trying out for the lead part in the musical my freshman year.

  I moved closer to Neal, then rolled him onto his back and lay my hands on his chest. I did not want to hold him if I didn’t have to. I pictured him alive as Vittorio said, and called upon my power to bring him back, to heal him and make his heart beat again. I wished for him to be alive, wrapped him in healing energy. I tried to believe I could do this. I pushed everything out of my mind other than thoughts of healing Neal.

  After a few minutes, Neal twitched. His heart beat softly, chest rising with breath. I did it! He was alive!

  Vittorio had the presence of mind to make sure the knife was not within Neal’s reach. I was about to stand when he opened his eyes and looked at me. Fear clenched my gut. What would he do? Did he have strength to harm me? Did he know it was my fault he was almost dead?

  “You.” That one word seemed to take much effort. “How?”

  I shook my head back and forth. I didn’t know. How could I explain it to Neal? Even if I had known, I wouldn’t have told him. He could read my mind. Let him figure it out on his own.

  “But I’m alive. I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t want responsibility for your death.” I slumped against Vittorio.

  “You are weaker than I thought. I could be of no concern to you now, and no one would know how, yet still you saved me. I don’t understand.”

  “You are too evil to understand,” I said.

  Neal looked for his knife.

  “You won’t be needing this anymore,” Vittorio said, holding the knife.

  Neal tried to stand, and stumbled. Emmettt helped Neal into the third row of the Suburban, fishing the keys from his pocket when he passed out. “What now?” Emmettt asked.

  “Guess we should call Jerry. He’s going to love this,” I said.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  When Jerry arrived, he handcuffed Neal and put him in the back of his car. I told him everything that had happened. Jerry’s backup took us all to the station to give our reports.

  “Jerry, can I ask you something unrelated to this?” I asked when I was finished.

  “What?”

  “Are we ever going to be able to be friends again?” I was pretty certain the answer would be no.

  He thought for a while. “I don’t know.”

  “Thank you for being honest about that.” It was better than I expected.

  “I’m having a hard time with all this magic mumbo jumbo.” He crossed his arms.

  “I hope we will. You mean a lot to me. But this is part of who I am now. I’m still basically the same person I always was, there’s just more to me now.”

  “I know, but it’s going to take some time for me to come to terms with it. This isn’t exactly normal stuff, you know. Magic isn’t supposed to be real.”

  “Who says what’s supposed to be real and not? Just because we don’t understand something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You can’t just wish it away.” If that were the case, I’d wish Kevin back to being alive.

  “I know. What’s all this about the coven?”

  “If Vittorio and I manage to stay alive, chances are we’ll be named Sacerdote and Sacerdotessa of the coven - High Priest and Priestess,” I corrected myself, realized Jerry didn’t know the Italian words. “Now that Clavius is dead, and his wife Aerin, the Sacerdotessa, was killed six months ago in a burglary, they need someone to step up. Samuel wants the position for himself. Neal probably does, too. They wouldn’t be good for it, though.”

  “And you would? You don’t even know anything about witchcraft.” He paused. “Do you?”

  “I have a lot to learn, it’s true, but I’d be better than anyone they would have in my place. They would have had Elizabeth before -” I stared at my hands, picking the skin around my nails, trying to force back tears.

  “Why are you doing this?” The sudden softness to Jerry’s tone made me look at him.

  “It’s hard to explain.” I went back to picking my nails.

  “Humor me and try.”

  “I know it’s the right thing to do. I know it’s why I’m here, that I’m meant to be Sacerdotessa. Even though I don’t know much about it all, I know it’s my purpose.”

  “But how do you know?” Jerry stood and paced.

  “You wouldn’t believe me.” I didn’t want to tell Jerry, but did want to mend our friendship if that was at all possible.

  “Tell me anyway.” He stopped and looked me in the eye, standing very still.

  “The goddess told me.” I sat very still.

  “You’re right, I don’t believe you,” he said, turning away from me, shoulders slumping.

  “Why not?” I yelled, pushing myself up from the chair and knocking it to the floor in the process. “Christians get messages from their God all the time. Why can’t pagans get messages from goddess? It’s the same thing.”

  He spun around, fists clenched. “Christians aren’t going to burn in hell when they die.”

  “Is that so? Charles Manson was Christian, wasn’t he? Hitler was a Christian. Do you think they’re going to heaven? And anyway, I don’t believe in heaven or hell, so I don’t really care about that. I’m just trying to live the best life I can and stay out of everyone else’s way. Everyone else is making that pretty damned difficult.”

  “I’m sorry, Elena.”

  I didn’t know what he was apologizing for; there was so much. “Maybe we should stick to business until you come to terms with this. I don’t know how much more of your hurtful words I can take.”

  “I said I’m sorry.” He looked at the floor.

  “Can I go now?”

  Jerry nodded, and I walked out without another word.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  The next day was Kevin’s funeral. His parents glared at me the moment I walked into the church. I hadn’t had time to talk to them, so went to offer my condolences. They walked away when they saw me headed toward them, making an already difficult situation even harder.

  Vittorio put his arm around my waist and led me to a pe
w to sit down. Hot tears streamed down my face as soon as the service began. I was glad I hadn’t bothered with makeup. He tried to soothe me with his power, but there was no comforting me that day, no matter how strong he might be.

  I almost lost it entirely when I walked past the casket for the final viewing. I knelt by the coffin, grasping Kevin’s hand, sobbing, “I’m sorry,” over and over again. Had I been any more hysterical, Vittorio probably would have carried me out. As it was, he simply put his arm around me and supported all my weight. I opted to skip the cemetery, for which I’m certain Kevin’s parents were grateful.

  Vittorio ran a hot bath when we got home and held me. My exhaustion finally let his power do its job and soothe me, enough for me to fall asleep, anyway.

  I woke sometime in the middle of the night from a nightmare. Kevin was in his casket. His eyes opened, and he stared right at me. “Why didn’t you save me?” he asked.

  “I didn’t know I could. You know I would have had I known,” I cried.

  “You knew. You saved Vittorio, but not me.” Only his lips moved.

  “I didn’t know how, I swear. Kevin, I’m so sorry, please don’t be angry.” I don’t know where I was in the dream; floating above his casket, maybe.

  “It’s your fault I’m dead.” Cold, dead eyes stared at me.

  I woke screaming, and only stopped when Vittorio put his arms around me. “What is wrong, mio amore?”

  “Nightmare.” When I calmed a little, I told him.

  “It is merely your subconscious feeling guilty. I am positive Kevin does not blame you for his death.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Kevin did not strike me as the blaming type, especially with his best friend. You must not blame yourself.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” I sulked as he held me.

  “I understand, mio amore. If there is anything I can do to help, you know I will do it.” He stroked my hair.