Water of Souls

by Eli Constant

  When we’re out in the cold air, snow falling once again from the sky above, Mei and I are almost run over by a bright white car with chrome detailing and vanity plates. Doc MS.

  First, I yell at the driver and give them the finger. Second, I think that the owner must be some sort of IT person. Or writer. Or someone who would think ‘Doc MS’ instead of ‘MS-DOC’ would be clever in some sort of binary thought way.

  And then it dawns on me. Finally, after being pissed and then debating who the idiot is that would have a vanity plate like that (because vanity plates are just dumb anyways), that Doc MS had nothing to do with computers.

  Doc MS stood for Doctor Mitchell Sherwin.

  When the white car is parked, I see it’s a Mercedes. The man who steps out is just this side of balding with hair that’s beginning to go grey. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. I feel that he’s older than he looks though. He’s had work done. He wears thick designer glasses and a coat that screams runway. There’s no passenger in the car with him. His wife isn’t here.

  “Mei, wait here a second.”

  “Tori, it’s freezing.”

  “Just a second. I’ll be right back.”

  I practically run over to the man who is nearing the station’s front door. “Excuse me, Doctor Sherwin?”

  He turns slowly, his face giving nothing away. He smiles then, seeing me, but no, he’s not looking at me. He’s looking behind me. At Mei.

  At the girl that more than fits the victims’ profiles.

  “Doctor Sherwin?” I say his name again, drawing his attention to me.

  His eyes are glazed-over when he finally focuses on my face. It’s as if he’s been in some sort of trance, and Mei was the initiator of the semi-fugue state.

  “Yes, I’m Doctor Sherwin. Do I know you?” He fiddles with his hands, sliding one glove off and holding his naked fingers out to me for a hand shake. Seeing him take off the glove, it triggers something in my brain. Then, his fingers begin to go a pale blue from the cold. Blue hands.

  Doctor’s gloves are blue, aren’t they? I can hear the plastic pop of the nurses and doctors in the hospital putting on their disposable gloves. Some had been purple... but most of them had been blue.

  I don’t want to shake his hand, but I do. And I’m glad I do, because there is a bandage covering a small wound. And I can feel the blood.

  I can feel the death in it, the murder floating about each and every cell within his body. He’s the killer. His house is where the God Stones took me and Mordecai. He is the killer. The hand shake does not last long enough for me to delve deeper into the truth within his blood. But I’m sure if it did, I would see the faces of the women he has killed. I would see Jane Doe and I would see Maggie. And I would see Timothy, whom he would call Amanda.

  I would see them all. There is no doubt in my mind.

  My blood power rages within me, a volcanic flow screaming for eruption. I could draw every drop of his crimson life force from his body through the tiny wound on his hand. I could spill him, across the ground, until he was thin and dry as a mummy.

  Doctor Sherwin quirks an eyebrow, frowning. “Is everything all right, Miss?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s fine. I’m sorry.” I nervously wipe my hand on my coat, trying to rub away the horror of his blood. “I just saw your car plates,” I point at his vehicle, “and wondered if you were Timothy Barrington’s stepfather? I’m friends with his boyfriend, Darnell.”

  His frown deepens. “Darnell. Yes, I remember the name. Timothy brought him over to my house once. Awful experience that was. And yes, I was Timothy’s stepfather, although I really didn’t know him well at all. My wife, you see, couldn’t cope with his...” He pauses, searching for words that won’t sound insensitive, “choice of lifestyle. I spent most of his visits trying to keep her calm and then dealing with the emotional fallout afterwards.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I was thinking I might meet Mrs. Barrington at the funeral.”

  “Mrs. Sherwin,” he corrects me, with only a hint of annoyance, “will not be attending any funeral.”

  “That’s too bad,” I bite my lower lip, furiously thinking of something else to ask. Then it dawns on me. “Doctor Sherwin,” I stress ‘doctor’ this time, “you said you really didn’t know Timothy, but weren’t you helping him medically? He was considering several operations, wasn’t he?”

  He looks distracted for a moment, and then his brow furrows. There’s heavy suspicion in his gaze now. “Yes, of course. But I would never reveal a person’s patient status to a relative stranger. And knowing someone as a patient and knowing them personally, are two entirely different things. Stepfather or not. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are some papers here that need to be signed.”

  “Papers?”

  “Yes, yes.” He waves me off absentmindedly, “and I need to get them done now. Mrs. Sherwin needs to get away for a while. This whole mess has broken her fragile psyche I’m afraid. Have a good day, Miss...” He trails off, realizing I’ve never given my name.

  “Cage,” I volunteer, not bothering to come up with something fake. Besides, if all went the way it should, this fucker was going to be seeing my face again. And I didn’t care if it was him in spirit form and me getting ready to cremate his foul body or if it was in life, with his wrists shackled and him facing life in prison.

  “Good day, Miss Cage.” He turns his back to me, but not before glancing behind me once more at Mei, and disappears into the police station. I don’t like that he’s looking at her. I don’t like what he might be thinking. I wish Liam was around to read his mind.

  Trust me when I say, Liam’s voice sounds in my head, that he’s thinking nothing good.

  Fuck, Liam. What should I do? I can’t let him just waltz in and out of here and then run off with his wife for a ‘vacation’. He’s the murderer.

  I can follow him. He won’t know I’m there.

  What are you going to do, Liam? Hop a plane if he does? Sneak onto a cruise if he does? No, we’ve got to come up with a better plan, a plan that stops him from using his credentials and money to go off on a trip and leave his victims behind.

  He still has one body he hasn’t disposed of. We can catch him in the act.

  I think about this... is the fourth body still beneath his house? If she is, will he keep her there or will he get rid of the evidence before he leaves? We scare him, Liam. We give him no choice but to get rid of the evidence. We let him know that someone is onto him.

  How?

  Leave that to me.

  “Seriously, Tori. I’m frozen.” Mei is rubbing her arms and stamping her feet trying to stay warm.

  “Why didn’t you get in your car and turn the heat on?” I open her driver’s door for her and she slides into the seat, turning on the car and sighing as the air that blows through the vents hits her body. It’s not hot air, but it’s significantly warmer than the artic temps outside the little red car.

  “Because you told me to wait.”

  “I didn’t tell you that you had to stay in one place like a statue.” I roll my eyes.

  She sticks her tongue out at me, fiddling with the temperature dials until the air is on the highest setting for both heat and intensity. “Listen, how about that double date?”

  “I thought that was a little white lie to get Andrea off my case?”

  “I mean, yeah, it was, but wouldn’t it be fun?”

  “It might be.”

  “Well, good. It’s a date then. Let’s do next Friday.”

  “Sure.” But only if this case is over and that piece of shit is behind bars. I look at the station, desperately wanting to go inside and give Doc Sherwin a piece of my mind.

  As I’m waving Mei off in the little red hatchback the restaurant uses for deliveries, I glance at my black sedan. I wish I’d thought to ask Andrea, before we’d gotten in a pissing contest, if Terrance had done anything abo
ut my ‘missing’ Bronco yet. Even if he hadn’t though, it was time for me to man up and start looking for a new personal-use vehicle.

  But, dammit, I just didn’t want to.

  On the way home, I dial Kyle’s number. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Tori.”

  “I see you found your cell phone.”

  He laughs, an abrupt sheepish sound. “Yeah, I found it. Buried in the pocket of my ripped jeans about a quarter mile from the bar. I must have changed as I was running. Jesus, if anyone saw me...”

  “Kyle, I’m sure if someone saw you transforming into a gigantic bear, it would be all over town by now.”

  “True.” He mumbles, then his voice gets stronger again. “Seriously though, Tori. We need to figure out a way for me to control this. There’s got to be some way I can feel the change coming on. Get somewhere private.”

  “I’ll ask Liam about it.”

  “When you’re arranging with him for lessons on how to control your own powers, right?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Don’t put it off, Tori. It’s important.”

  “I know. Look, I already spoke with him after you left to help Mikey.” I change the subject. “How’s he doing anyways?”

  “Mad at himself mostly and still worried I’m going to can him.”

  “I mean, no one would blame you if you did, Kyle. He did get drunk while at work.”

  “You don’t understand the circumstances, Tori. It was a hard day for him.”

  I wait for more of an explanation, but he doesn’t give one. “Well, it’s your bar and you’re his boss. I know he seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “He is.” Kyle’s voice is firm.

  “I’m headed home from the coffee shop now. I had breakfast with Mr. Barrington.” I’m a huge fan of the subject change.

  “How’s he doing?” Kyle seems relieved, too, that I’ve switched topics.

  “As well as you’d expect.” I can’t keep sadness from tainting my words.

  “I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a kid.”

  “You and me both.” I sigh. I hate that I don’t know what to do. That I don’t know what my next step is. I need to call Terrance. I know I do, but I hate taking away his day off. He needs it and I’m sure his family needs it also. “So I’ll see you at home later?” Now when I change the subject, it’s to change the one in my head and not the one in our conversation.

  “Yeah, probably after closing though. I don’t think Mikey should be alone here, at least for the next few days.”

  “Okay, see you then. Maybe we can order some food? I’m craving Chinese.”

  “You’re always craving Chinese.”

  We laugh because it’s true. I am always craving Chinese, but this time, I want to order from my favorite restaurant for another reason. Even at this moment, I’m resisting calling Mei and making sure she’s okay. I can’t get Doctor Sherwin’s expression out of my mind, the way he’d looked when he’d first saw her. The glassiness of his eyes. I realize that it was... need that I saw there.

  Maybe I’d text her when I got home. Just to make sure she got back to her parent’s restaurant okay.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I do text Mei as soon as I get home. Her response is ‘Um... are you sure you’re okay today? You’re acting strange’.

  But I don’t care that she thinks I’m being weird—even though the sting of Andrea’s jab is still there, below the surface of my skin—I’m just glad she answers.

  The sun is going down and I’m making a sandwich for dinner when Liam joins me in the kitchen, having obviously entered his preferable way, through the bedroom window. He’s closed it this time at least, blocking out the chilly wind.

  “Liam, I’d really prefer it if you’d knock. And use the front door.” I motion at the entrance with the butter knife I’m holding, still coated with jam.

  “Romeo came to Juliet via the window. If it’s good enough for Shakespeare...” He shrugs nonchalantly.

  He’s standing beside me now and I elbow him in the stomach gently. He feigns that it hurts. We smile. “The difference is, Liam, that we’re neither lovers nor living out a play that ends in both main characters dying.”

  “We could change that.” He edges closer, teasingly.

  It’s all a bit too chummy-chummy for our own goods. I’m with Kyle. I’m with Kyle. Should those words have to be repeated over and over again in my head? No, they shouldn’t. If you’re with someone and you love them, then you shouldn’t have to keep reminding yourself of that fact. Dammit. I was up the tunnel of love, in a boat with two guys, and no end in sight. I bet they were even both expecting smooches at some point. In the dark, no-holds-barred, lip locking.

  And you know what was the worst part?

  I’d totally kiss them both. Me, the girl who claims to be monogamous, who was once engaged to the best guy on the planet and couldn’t imagine ever loving someone else.

  I make Liam a sandwich also, without asking. He takes it with a ‘thanks’ even though I can tell from his expression that he’s less-than-fond of peanut butter and jelly. We sit at the table in companionable silence—me eating and Liam just sitting there looking out the window, seeing nothing because it is all but pitch black out now, his sandwich untouched in front of him.

  Periodically, I pick up my phone and check it. No one’s called, of course, and I resist the urge to text Mei yet again.

  “You do remember that you can just check on her with your power now, don’t you?”

  I jump; Liam interrupting the silence is startling. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts. “Oh, yeah, of course. It’s just habitual to use a phone, you know?”

  “Sure, I understand.” He’s smirking though, obviously reading my thoughts and knowing that I’ve totally forgotten about the whole ‘tasted her blood, keep track of her safety’ thing.

  “Seriously, I’m just used to using a phone.”

  His smile only widens.

  “Oh, shut up, Liam.” But I’m smiling also; I can’t help it.

  Closing my eyes, I reach for her with my mind, I remember her blood, I follow the taste and feel of it across the miles.

  She’s standing in her parent’s restaurant, wiping her brow with a white towel as she stirs fried rice in a giant wok. She huffs as the rice spills over the lip of the cookware. “Dad, when are you going to hire a new sous chef? Ping’s been gone for over a month and you can’t handle this all week when I’m not here.”

  Her father responds in Chinese and I can tell by his tone that he’s berating her for not speaking in their native tongue as well. He does speak English, and rather well too, but he prefers Chinese when it’s just him and the family. I get that. He wants to keep his history and culture alive.

  Mei responds in Chinese too and I pick up a few words here and there. It’s a shame I’ve never learned, especially since I’ve been her friend for so long.

  “She’s safe,” I say as I pull back from her blood and rejoin Liam at the table.

  “Good.”

  I go to take a bite of sandwich, but then I feel a little fluttering in my chest, like an old fashioned alarm clock ringing loudly. The kind with two bells on the top that vibrates against tables as they sound. I slap my right hand over where my heart resides in my body and my eyes go wide. “God, that’s weird.”

  “What?” Liam focuses on me, his eyes closing slightly. “Oh,” he says, surprised “I thought you said Mei was doing fine?”

  “She is. I mean she was. What do you mean?”

  “That feeling... that means that someone you care about, someone whose blood you tasted, is alarmed or scared. It could be surprise too though. Whatever they’re feeling, it’s enough to set off your blood senses.”

  I close my eyes again, frantically reaching for Mei. I see her again, but this time she’s standing at the front desk taking someone’s order. Her voice is strange, distant. I force a change of perspective so that I’m looking at her back instead o
f her face. I peer around her, to the owner of the voice that’s asking for a special number 3.

  It’s Doctor Sherwin. He’s being charming, disarmingly so, but I can feel Mei’s discomfort. Her intuition is saying that something’s wrong. Just like mine is.

  “You’re a very beautiful girl, Mei.” Doctor Sherwin says as he hands over a twenty dollar bill.

  “Thank you,” Mei mumbles mechanically.

  “Have you worked here long?” Doctor Sherwin takes back the card, sliding it into a brown leather wallet embossed with his initials.

  “Yes,” Mei says simply, offering no further information.

  “I saw a car outside with one of the college’s student passes on it. Is that yours?”

  She nods and now her intuition is screaming at her. I can feel it, racing through her blood and making my pulse speed. “Yes, I started there in the Fall. I’m a bit of a... late bloomer I guess.”

  “That’s a good school. My niece was there last year. Her name’s Karen. Did you happen to know her?”

  Mei shakes her head ‘no’.

  “Well, that’s a shame. I’ve a feeling you two would have been thick as thieves.”

  “Is that all for you today?” Mei asks, a quivering in her voice that only someone really listening would notice. Doctor Sherwin is too wrapped up in his assessment of her to realize she’s scared. The look in his eyes is back, that glassy insatiable need.

  The restaurant phone rings. Mei’s father is yelling Chinese shortly after the ringing dies. Then Mei’s mother is yelling, in English though and at Mei. “Mei, that boy just called again. You tell him that when you are at work, it is not social hour!”

  Mei doesn’t respond, but I can feel her body wilt a little. She knows she needs to tell them that Dean is more than a friend, but she also isn’t ready to face the backlash.

  “Special guy in your life your parents don’t approve of?” Doctor Sherwin is smiling and I think it’s meant to look sympathetic. “I’ve been there. My mother hated my first wife.”

  “Dean’s just a friend,” Mei mumbles. “It’ll take about ten minutes to put together your food, if you’d like to have a seat.” She motions to the booths and tables. Her discomfort is beyond tangible now. It’s a choking sensation in my throat.