by S D Wasley
But as I keyed the message, my phone rang. I fumbled with it to answer, gulping air to calm myself. As though he knew what I’d been doing, it was Léon on the line.
“Francesca?”
“Léon,” I breathed, the horror of Sara’s premonition hitting fresh. To my dismay I sobbed audibly into my phone.
“What’s the matter?” he said, voice frantic. “Wait!”
He hung up. Baffled, I threw my phone down. I wouldn’t answer if he called again. I took deep breaths, pacing my little bedroom, still fighting tears. I longed to have Cain’s arms around me but the thought of explaining all this to him made me oddly apprehensive. I hadn’t told him about Léon’s request that I help decode his group’s visions. I got distracted last time I started to tell him but now I was in over my head, upset by the contents of Sara’s premonition. I needed him. Albion pushed open my bedroom door, a big grin on his face.
“Léon’s here. He just turned up at the front door.”
For a moment I was too shocked to speak. “Alby,” I said when I recovered my voice, “you’re a bastard.”
“What?” he protested innocently.
I went out to the living room. Léon, glowing with that raw beauty, gazed at my face in the same way Cain always did, with fearless intimacy. I halted, overwhelmed. No. This wasn’t his place. Turning up at my house again was too much―it was out of line. Worse, he stepped right into my personal space, grasping my arms.
“What is it, Francesca? Tell me.”
Albion had arrived in the doorway but instead of coming in, he hovered for a moment before retreating into the hall. I shook off Léon’s hands.
“What are you doing here?”
He hesitated, and then spoke in a low voice, keeping that mesmerising gaze on my face. “I needed to see you today, to speak to you about the emails. I hoped you might have considered them by now.”
His words brought back Sara’s vision and again, tears welled. When his eyes filled with tender sympathy I cursed myself inwardly for my display of emotion. Léon led me through the kitchen toward the back door as though he knew my house perfectly. Outside, he sat me on a plastic chair and pulled up another, sitting knee-to-knee before me and looking into my face.
“Tell me, Francesca.”
He was completely alert, green eyes bright against the flawless brown skin of his face, his breath was sweet and spiced ... delicious. Sitting so close to Léon evoked something in me that fired both fear and a kind of anger. I felt naked before him. It was as though he’d somehow manipulated things so I was forced to reveal myself, confusing emotions and all.
“Léon, just leave me alone!”
Startled, he sat back and gazed at my agitated face. I stared at the ground, my mind in utter chaos. Tears dripped off my cheeks and nose but I was more furious than sad, whether at myself or him I didn’t know. I dug in my pocket for a tissue.
“Are you angry with me?” Léon asked. “I’m sorry. I wanted to see you―needed to see you. I found myself drawn to your home, but did not like to simply arrive at your door without speaking to you first. I wanted to be sure it was all right, so I phoned. Then when I heard your voice I became alarmed. I could hear you were upset so I did not waste another moment.”
This was a wholly reasonable apology. I relented, although still strung out, even ashamed, about making myself so vulnerable in front of him. I couldn’t respond for some time and Léon waited in respectful silence.
“I was reading your emails when you phoned.” I managed to keep my voice steady. “I found one of them disturbing.” He leaned forward again, his expression eager. “The morgue. Sara’s vision of a morgue.”
“The morgue?” He frowned.
“The drawers rumbling in the cold room.” I shuddered again, seeing metal units under bright lighting. “Lots of bodies. More than normal.”
Still Léon frowned, referring to his phone. He scrolled through his emails until he found the one in question from Sara and reread it. “It could be a morgue,” he conceded.
“Could be?” I repeated, annoyed.
He read aloud. “I am in a cold place. I hear the sound of rumbling, over and over, like a filing cabinet being opened and closed. There are quiet voices and the sound of a pen scratching on paper.”
Once again the cold room with stainless steel drawers came into my head, uniformed medical staff rolling rows of dead bodies away into storage compartments. A mass death. I couldn’t control my trembling and when Léon noticed he took my hand, his doubt all gone in an instant.
“Mon Dieu,” he breathed, “Francesca, you experienced this moment that Sara felt, didn’t you? Am I correct to say you see, hear and feel these premonitions? You do not just see or sense the experiences as we do, you go there, don’t you? You have been in that morgue. This is why you have the ability to detect the places, the details that allow us to identify where these things happen. Holy mother of God. You have the greatest gift of us all.” I doubted, the familiar sadness dragging at my heart. “And yet you do not feel you are one of us.”
My skin prickled. How did Léon get me like he did?
“I’m not one of you,” I muttered.
“I must tell you something important, Francesca. This may frighten you.”
He kept his eyes on mine and when I pulled my gaze away, unnerved, he took my chin in his hand and held it still so I couldn’t avoid his powerful stare. It was an act of control and I wanted to slap him but his green eyes burned with an intensity I’d often seen in Cain’s. No matter what I felt about Léon I couldn’t look away.
“You know you have a gift. You understand now. So why don’t you belong in Cain’s group?”
“Because he never saw my face,” I blurted, tears spilling again.
Léon’s gaze didn’t waver. “Francesca. I saw your face.”
I shook more violently. “No. No.”
Léon took me into his arms and I rapidly grew calm in the sensation of warmth and safety―until the screen door opened and Cain stepped into the yard.
Chapter 9: Arbitrium
Cain saw us in our embrace and froze.
“Cain,” Léon said, releasing me immediately. “I have been speaking with Francesca about the visions of my group. One of these premonitions has left her shaken.”
I was still in a daze over what he’d told me but even so I thought it sounded lame, like he was making excuses. After a long moment of indecision, and a visible effort to recover his composure, Cain picked up a chair and set it down beside us. Léon pushed his chair away from mine so we were no longer locked in that intimate face-to-face position. I couldn’t focus on anything but what Léon had told me. They were talking but my head swam and none of it made sense. I stared at the ground in front of me.
“Francesca. Francesca.” Cain’s voice came to me through the whirling mist of confusion. I looked up. Albion had joined us, his eyes curious, offering drinks from a tray in his hand. Boutique beer bottles with ragged slices of lemon pressed artistically into their open tops. I snatched one, ripped out the lemon and guzzled at least half the bottle, only stopping because I ran out of breath. The beer hit my hot churning gut like calming waters on lava. Discarding the tray, Albion fetched his own chair.
“I’ve got no idea what’s going on,” he said in a bright voice, “but it looked like you all needed a drink.”
Cain and Léon drank their beers in grim silence. I got up and dragged my chair, positioning myself away from them all on the lawn, facing the low fence that separated our garden from the Main House’s pool area. I sat there and drank my beer, attempting to process Léon’s words. Part of me was unconvinced. It couldn’t be true that I’d somehow fallen into the wrong group, that Léon was the one who was supposed to be my leader. He was from Québec, for God’s sake. Why would he see my face? It made no sense. But another part of me knew it was true. That was why I’d had the pull, like being tied to him when I first saw him. That’s why he kept looking at my face on that night and seemed to know
me. This was terrible. I didn’t want to be part of Léon’s group; I wanted to be part of Cain’s. But more than anything I just wanted to be one of these powerful beings and therefore this new knowledge was not terrible, but wonderful.
After a few minutes had passed, my head spinning while the three men muttered behind me, Albion joined me. He placed his plastic chair next to mine and refreshed my beer.
“If I weren’t so jealous of your animal magnetism I’d feel sorry for you,” he remarked.
“Piss off,” I said. “You have it so wrong. And you wouldn’t believe me if I tried to explain it.”
“I may not know all your special secrets, Frankie, but I know alpha males in competition when I see them.”
I glanced back at Cain and Léon. They’d lapsed into a moody silence. I wanted to ask Léon about his revelation but more than that I needed to talk to Cain.
“Can you keep Léon occupied?” I asked Albion.
His face lit up. “With pleasure.”
I took a fresh grip on my beer and crossed the lawn back to where the two men sat. When I put my hand out to Cain he took it instantly, rising to follow me into the house. Behind us Albion sat next to Léon and made an effort to engage him in conversation. Cain followed me to my bedroom and I shut us in, turning to face him.
“What made you come over?” I asked.
“Owen called me. Léon borrowed his van and went out but left the computer on and browser open. Owen could see he’d been searching for driving directions to your house. He was surprised and sent me a message. Then when I got your message I knew I had to come and see what was wrong.”
“My message?”
“You sent a message saying something disturbed you.”
I frowned. “I didn’t think I even sent that in the end.”
“You did.” He pulled out his phone and brought up the last message. His brow creased. “I must have deleted it.”
I eyed him. “So, Owen told you Léon was coming here ... and you thought you’d make sure you were here, too? What did you think you’d find?”
Cain was silent, searching my face. “Not what I did find,” he said at last.
I dropped my eyes, my breathing getting tight. “I was upset.”
“Francesca, I came because I was worried about you. I don’t trust him.”
“Why not? Because of Market Lake?”
“Yes. No. Because of the way he acts about you.”
I took a breath. “He told me he ... he saw me. My face. Like you saw Owen and Liz and―”
“What?” It came as a hiss.
I didn’t know what to say so I said nothing as full comprehension dawned on Cain. He tried to make his face neutral but failed, every line and shadow showing the rawness of his pain. He sank onto my bed and dropped his head into his hands. Dismayed, I crouched down in front of him so I could see his face.
“Cain, this doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I don’t want him. I’m not even sure I believe him.”
He looked up and caught my eye. “Really? You aren’t sure?” He thought for a moment. “Actually, how do we even know he really saw you? He wants you. Maybe he’s just saying this because he knows he can get you this way.”
“He’s not interested in me. Not like that.” I chewed my lip. “I guess I am sure he saw me. When he said it I was shocked, but then I knew it was true. I guess it’s just ... part of me wishes it wasn’t true.”
“Part of me wishes it wasn’t either.” His voice was heavy with irony. “Wow. I always figured I would have to repay my debt to the universe someday but this is just so ... so perfectly fucked up.”
“I just told you it doesn’t change anything.”
He gave a hollow laugh. “So I find the love of my life and it turns out she’s earmarked for someone else ... and that doesn’t change anything?”
“Earmarked?” My voice rose sharply. “What the hell? Do I get some say in this?” He shook his head miserably. “Cain, I want you. Not him. Think about it. This means I do belong, after all. I’m not just an accident that happened to you. Maybe the only way Léon could find me was through you guys.” My mind raced with the possibilities and my excitement rose. I was part of this, one of them. Cain sat and stared at the floor, defeated. “Maybe you could even try feeling happy for me,” I added, a little hurt.
“But what does it mean?” His voice broke on the words. “Does it mean you’ll go back to Québec with him? You’ll need to be with him, meet with him regularly, just like we do at Gaunt House. I should have known,” he muttered bitterly. “I knew you were too good to be true. Too good for me.”
I got angry. “Stop. Stop that. Nothing’s changing. Of course I’m not going to Québec.” I hesitated, thinking about that. “Not permanently, anyway.” Cain’s jaw tightened. “I can only say it so many times, Cain. I love you. If you knew how much I’ve wanted this you wouldn’t wish it away. All I’ve wanted is to be part of what you can do, so I can help people as well.”
There was a long moment in which he kept his face down and I didn’t know what he was thinking. Then he straightened up and gave me an unexpected smile, taking my face in his hands. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re ... an extraordinary gift to all of us. I need to remember that.” He kissed me and pulled me close. “I trust you to make the right choices,” he murmured.
I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant.
****
The atmosphere was strung tight in the cavern under Gaunt House that night. Cain was stonily silent and I sat close, curled against him. Owen already knew something was up since he’d been the one to alert Cain to Léon’s web browsing history, so he was expecting trouble. He’d most likely told Nadine, Liz, and Jude about it as well, if their cautious expressions were anything to go by. Léon stayed quiet ... understandable while mistrust sat so thick in the air. Only Helen seemed unsure of what was going on.
Léon didn’t tell them what he’d told me about seeing my face and Cain wasn’t inclined to reveal it either so I let it slide. There would be an opportunity to talk about it when I was used to it myself and Cain definitely needed more time. Nadine wanted to go back over the Market Lake rescue again, pushing for us to explore new ways to intervene in rescue events but Cain steered the discussion toward Helen’s visions. The redhead scowled while Helen talked and Liz made notes in the ledger.
“I was waiting at the bus stop with Patrick when I had this vision,” Helen said. “I saw the town centre at night. Cars and traffic, people walking around on Main Street. But something shocked everyone. A loud noise, a boom of thunder, maybe. I couldn’t hear it but I saw their reactions. Then it happened again. I think it was at a distance, but so loud that people stopped and stared around at each other, panicking.”
“What were they wearing, the people?” Liz asked as she scribbled. “What season?”
Helen considered for a moment. “Cold weather. Not long from now, I don’t think. Jeans, long sleeved shirts. No winter coats but certainly not mid-summer.” She waited for Liz to finish writing before continuing. “The other vision I saw today I was emailing someone, and then the email changed in front of me. I saw it being typed right before my eyes.” Helen was a little breathless with the thrill of this unusual vision. She retrieved the notebook she’d called her dream journal from her handbag. “I can’t remember the exact words but the email said something like, ‘It was a regrettable incident. It was never the intention to see anybody get hurt. It was a freak occurrence, not deliberate or planned, and happened in an unexpected manner that shocked everyone involved. What’s important now is to protect the innocent and the best way is through a fast clean up, thorough investigation, and returning to schedule.’ There’s a picture in the signature at the bottom of the email, sort of like a red circle.”
“God, why are we even doing this anymore?” Nadine broke in, startling Helen. “Is there any point? We can’t do anything about these fragments until we get the full vision.”
&n
bsp; “You know it brings the visions on if we understand the fragments more fully,” Cain told her, his voice sharp. I touched his arm as subtly as possible. I wasn’t sure how close he was to cracking after today’s events.
Nadine actually rolled her eyes. “But Helen’s the only one getting the fragments. Do we really need to sit around taking notes like kids at a college lecture? It’s time we transcended this bullshit. We’re better than this now.”
Léon sat up, forgetting his caution. “Perhaps you could experiment?” Cain tensed beside me. “To see if it makes any difference to the regularity of the visions or their timeliness if you do not meet each night. Or if you do not retell and record the fragmented visions of those who have not yet transformed.”
Nadine nodded eagerly and Owen considered Léon’s words while Helen sat back, unsure and maybe a little hurt. Jude and Liz exchanged a long glance with Cain. When he spoke his eyes were dark.
“Experiment, Léon?” he said in a voice so quiet it unnerved me. “With people’s lives?”
“No, no, I do not mean―”
“That’s exactly what you said.”
Nadine jumped to Léon’s defence. “Cain, don’t be an asshole. He’s trying to help us find ways to be more effective.”
“Léon’s intentions are good,” Owen put in.
“How many have you saved?” Cain asked Léon, cutting through their protests.
Léon glanced at me and then brought his eyes to Cain’s face. “None,” he answered evenly. “Not until the Market Lake rescue here.”
“Then why are you telling us how to do things?”
“Jesus, Cain!” Nadine jumped up. “Stop throwing your testosterone around. Léon doesn’t have to listen to this.”
“He’s welcome to leave,” was Cain’s even response.
Nadine’s face twisted in anger. “Fucking―”
Léon stopped her, touching her shoulder as he got to his feet. “It’s best I leave.” He gave me another look. A silent exhortation to follow him? No way in hell, I thought, moving a little closer to Cain. Léon left and, after shooting Cain an aggressive glance, Nadine followed him. I gasped with shock. What was she thinking? Then, to my utter dismay, Owen also got to his feet.