Elder Debbon was disgusted with Petre’s next thoughts about repeatedly raping Amanda. He quickly shuffled through his memories until he reached the part where Amanda would not have known what had happened to Petre once she had escaped. Debbon honed in on the next series of events to find out what Petre had done after he had realized Amanda was no longer with him on the water craft.
Petre woke up by his head hitting the floor of the water craft cabin. He grabbed the side of his head and looked blurrily around trying to remember what had happened and wondering how he had ended up on the floor. He grabbed the edge of the table and leveraged his body back into the chair out of which he had fallen.
Once seated, he noticed the partially eaten bowl of foxl stew on the table. Why didn’t I finish my soup? he thought to himself. All at once he remembered Jesisca and looked around to see if she were nearby; she was not in the cabin. She must be out on the deck, he thought quickly.
He stood up shakily and staggered to the door. He caught the frame to steady himself before he could fall on his face again. He did not see her as he looked toward the aft end of the craft. Abandoning his hold on the door frame, he steadied himself against the wall of the cabin as he walked along the starboard side of the craft to be able to view the forward deck; it, too, was empty.
Did she go below deck? he wondered. Petre went to the hold door and yanked it open. Misjudging the first step down, he slipped and fell down the eight steps, jarring his shins and hands the whole way until he fell onto his rear to the deck.
“Damn it,” he yelled as he looked down on himself to survey the damage. Luckily, he did not have any broken bones, but he would definitely be sporting a lot of bruises on his legs. His pants were torn, and there was blood dripping down one shin which he attempted to smear off with his hand. This led to the discovery of multiple splinters in his palm.
“She’d better be down here after all this trouble,” he mumbled as he struggled to get back on his feet. Stomping through the narrow passageway, he looked into each of the storage areas and around the various cargo items still on board. Everything was in place, but there was no sign of Jesisca.
Now more than a little bit concerned, he hurried back to the stairs and carefully ascended them to the main deck. Petre decided she must be in the washroom where she could assist him with his numerous injuries. At least with his anger rising his steps became surer and he stomped into the cabin yelling, “Jesisca, get out here and help me!”
The silence continued in the cabin as he waited for a response. Forgetting his injuries, he grabbed the washroom door handle and threw the door open. Empty. The room was empty.
“Jesisca!” He yelled as he turned around and faced the cabin, “Jesisca, where in hell are you!” Petre went back out and walked the entire upper deck. He looked out over the empty ocean surrounding the water craft and realized he no longer had his invisibility shield in place. How’d that happen? he wondered.
Understanding dawned on him as he reviewed all of the evidence. He must have accidentally eaten the food he had drugged for Jesisca. Once he had passed out, she must have panicked and gone out on deck to get help. Without his invisibility shield, she must have been able to see land, and either jumped or fell overboard.
“I guess I should go ashore to get her back and let her know I’m okay so she’ll stop worrying,” he said out loud even though he was the only one to hear it. With his plan set, he concentrated on changing the course of his water craft and then went back to the washroom to tweeze the splinters from his hands.
Within half an hour, Petre tied his craft to the dock on the southern port of Cresdon which was the closest port to where his vessel had been sailing. This was the most likely location where Jesisca would have come ashore. Not knowing how long he had been passed out, he was not sure how far Jesisca could have gone.
He went first to the Harbor Master’s office of South Port. Inside, he spoke to the clerk behind the desk. “Good day, sir,” he said as he swaggered up to the counter.
“Good day, MacVeen,” the clerk replied coldly.
Petre raised his brow at the formal and unfriendly reception. He decided to ignore the slight to his character and asked, “Has a woman named Jesisca come in today to report a craft accident?”
The clerk was clearly startled by the question and stammered his reply, “No, why? Did you encounter some difficulty you’d like to report?”
“No, I just ate something which didn’t agree with me, and I hit my head. My wife must have panicked and jumped overboard. Were any swimmers reported?”
“I didn’t know you were married,” was the clerk’s stunned reply.
“It was only a matter of time before I found the right woman,” Petre replied easily. “Any swimmers reported?”
“No, none reported,” he answered promptly. “You might want to check with the main port.”
“Will do. Thanks for your time,” Petre said as he turned and walked out of the office. He walked back to the dock and wondered if he should check in with the local wise-woman to see if she had seen Jesisca. Deciding it would be prudent to cover all possibilities before leaving he walked the short distance to the healer’s workplace.
As he opened the door, a bell rang letting the healer know she had a customer. He went into the office and waited. A few minutes later, Petre left the office without any better idea of where Jesisca might be. Now what?
Contemplating his next move, he remembered a deli which served his favorite sandwiches was just past the healer’s office. He turned up the narrow side street and walked a few hundred yards until he came to the brightly painted door which had Porino’s Café handwritten on the glass.
He walked in and surveyed the room; two out of the ten tables were occupied. Petre realized it must be too late for lunch, but not late enough for dinner. He chose a table and seated himself to wait for the waitress.
A few minutes later, a smiling young woman came up to the table to take his order. “What can I get for you?” she asked while holding a pad of paper and pencil at the ready.
Petre looked up at the question and watched as the smile turned to a frown when she recognized her patron. It was a reaction he had grown used to, but it still angered him. “I’ll have the fried foxl sandwich with dip, please.”
“Right away,” she said and turned hastily to leave.
Petre’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. “Just one moment,” he said quickly.
“Let go of my arm, MacVeen,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said as he took his hand away, “it’s just, I wanted to ask you if you had seen an eighteen anon old woman with shoulder length brown hair come in here?”
“Why would I tell you?”
“Because she’s my wife,” he shot back, he sighed with annoyance and then continued, “I believe she’s lost, and I am anxious to find her.”
“MacVeen, if she is your wife, then I hope for her sake she stays lost. She’d be safer on the streets after dark than with you,” she retorted sarcastically.
Petre closed his eyes to keep from throttling her and then spoke evenly, “Have you seen Jesisca?”
“I have to put in your order,” she replied and stalked away to the safety of the kitchen.
Petre waited at the table wondering whether or not Jesisca had come to this restaurant. If not, he had to think of where he would go next to try to find her. The last place he wanted to go was to see the Cresdon Harbor Master. Captain Ahn had made it quite clear he was not welcome down at his harbor.
A largely built man dressed in a white shirt came out of the kitchen carrying a plate containing Petre’s dinner. He set the meal down so hard the dip sloshed out of the bowl and across the table. “Two things, MacVeen: first, the woman you’re looking for has not been here; second, if you ever lay a hand on any woman working here again, I will personally break every bone in your hand. Do you understand?” he spoke with a low tone only Petre could hear, but h
is intent came over loud and clear.
“Thank you for answering my question. Please apologize to the lady for me; I didn’t mean to upset her,” he said with a calm expression all the while seething with anger inside because the waitress had involved the head cook in this matter. He made a mental note to repay her in the future…
Elder Debbon smiled in recollection of his dealings with Petre. Upon reflection, he thought he handled the situation quite admirably. He was also pleased to see Petre was being thwarted time and again with regard to finding Amanda. The twists and turns of Petre’s foul mind were actually making the Elder’s head hurt. There was an odd quality to the functioning of Petre’s brain which he could not place, yet he would certainly have to review it at a later time. He sat down slowly on the bed behind where Petre sat unresisting in the chair.
With his eyes closed, his thoughts turned to adequate punishment for Petre’s crimes. He felt sorry for everything Amanda had endured at the hands of this seasoned criminal. Petre’s problems all seemed to stem from his sexual appetite, maybe he should do something to him to keep him from being able to perform in the future. When he opened his eyes at last, he was surprised to glimpse a dark shadow in the room directly behind Petre. Once he blinked the shadow was gone, and he had to assume it had been a trick of light causing him to think he had seen the anomaly. He immediately discounted the idea of Lucinden sending a minion into his own household as it simply did not happen to the powerful Elders.
Putting the shadow out of his thoughts he began smiling at the answer to his question. He stood up from the bed and began to walk toward Petre when he was struck by an amazingly vivid vision. He felt rooted to where he stood as he saw quick flashes of a child being presented to him in danger. Once his hands were on this child, he knew she needed to be with his family. He would do anything to protect this little girl. Just as abruptly as the vision began it faded.
In the stunning silence after the revelation, Elder Debbon inexplicably knew both Petre and Amanda were integral parties to this child being brought to him. Abandoning his plans at punishment or further questioning, the Elder decided he needed to alter the thoughts of both Amanda and Petre to keep either one of them from remembering their time spent with him. He wanted the child, and he would do almost anything to make sure his vision came true.
Stepping up to Petre, he placed his hands on Petre for the last time. With speed and precision, Elder Debbon replaced Petre’s memories with those of a pleasant dream which involved a woman. He spun the vision strongly into Petre’s mind and then removed his hands from Petre. In the same moment his fingers broke contact with Petre, Elder Debbon translocated him back to his water craft while also removing the silencing compulsion.
Feeling relieved to have Petre away from the Residence, he wiped his palms against his thighs as if to rid himself of the feel of Petre while he walked back to Amanda’s room. He was surprised to see her sitting up on the bed and watching him as he entered the room. He pulled the chair around to the side of the bed and sat down. “I’m glad to see you are awake, Amanda.”
Amanda considered the man sitting across from her. He was only slightly older than her own father, and he looked like someone she should be able to trust. Looks could be deceiving, as she well knew. He wore a simple white outfit consisting of a long tunic covering equally white pants. She particularly noticed his soft-soled shoes as they seemed so impractical.
She could almost believe she could feel the power emanating from him. While she did not know who this man was she could understand, without any explanation, he was not someone to whom she should even attempt to lie. Looking down on her completely healed hand and wrist she wondered just how much time she had lost.
Elder Debbon watched Amanda’s assessment of himself with amusement. Her face was not only pleasant to look at with her big, brown eyes, it was also easy to read. He wished he were able to spend more time with her before returning her to the wise-woman’s house.
She registered surprise because he knew her name. Tilting her head in question she asked, “How do you know my name? Who are you?”
He smiled reassuringly as he answered, “I know many things. My name is Elder Debbon.” He nodded toward her hand and asked, “Does your wrist feel alright?”
She rubbed it unconsciously and answered simply, “Yes.”
He nodded in satisfaction and then seemed as though he had come to some conclusion without speaking. He rose from his chair and quickly crossed the few feet to Amanda. He placed his hands on her head before she was able to resist, “It’s time I got you back to where I found you. You are not going to remember your time with me, Amanda. For that, I am sorry. I would love to get to know you better.”
Using his ability to manipulate time and space, he took Amanda back to the wise-woman’s shack only a fraction of a second after he had originally taken her. With just a thought, he erased his earlier presence from both the wise-woman’s and Bryon’s minds. Without allowing his own body to materialize, he made sure she was asleep as he had found her and then he, too, was gone.
Chapter Seven
DR. STEPHEN Gascon set down the file on his newest patient, Amanda Covington. Hers was an interesting case in which he believed he could make a significant difference in the field of Psychiatry if he could figure out how to get through her obviously disjointed mind. The thought came to mind that he could use this case to write his latest theory on multiple dimensional disorder, or MDD for short. He had experienced many cases where his patients had delusions of interacting with other dimensions, but Amanda was the most severe of all. She insisted she had lived in this other dimension for almost fourteen months.
“What are your thoughts on Amanda, Jasmine?” Dr. Gascon asked the hypnotherapist sitting across from him at his immense mahogany desk.
“Her accounts are very specific and consistent. She sounds convincing.”
Dr. Gascon frowned at Dr. Medin’s response. He always felt she took too much interest in her patients to maintain proper objectivity. He returned his attention to the paper notes on his desk. He ran the tip of his pen across each line until he came to another incident he felt he could explain with his knowledge of the human psyche. “Amanda has displayed the classic signs of ‘daddy issues’ by referring to the Elder stealing her away and acting as her protector. She is first healed by the man and then subjected to involuntary submission when he reads her thoughts while she is unconscious. We should find out from her parents about the relationship Amanda had with her father; this might go a long way to explaining her desire to please him.”
“I’d like to try a few sessions with Amanda without her being on any medication.” Jasmine looked down into her lap hoping Dr. Gascon would not see the disapproval she had for the doctor’s methods of keeping his patients heavily medicated. She knew she would be able to treat the patients much quicker if they had a clear mind during their sessions. This was a longstanding argument between the two professionals and not one which was likely to be resolved on this case. She could see the interested gleam in Dr. Gascon’s eyes and knew he had other ideas for Amanda, none of which actually included helping her to get better.
“As long as I’m in charge of Cannon Memorial Asylum, you will abide by my decisions regarding the patients, Jasmine.”
“I always have, Dr. Gascon,” she looked up and stared him directly in the eyes. “When would you like me to have my next session with Amanda?”
“I’d like you to fit her into your schedule this afternoon. Also, I’d like to be present.”
“I’ll clear my caseload,” she said as she stood up and turned to leave the room.
“Furthermore, I want to make sure you still include the post-hypnotic suggestion so she won’t remember what is discussed during the treatment.”
Jasmine felt her spine stiffen as she turned her head to look back at the old man sitting behind the desk, “I hope you’re not implying I don’t know what is expected of my job, Dr. Gascon. I have always complied with yo
ur wishes on that matter.”
“No, my dear Dr. Medin, I know you will do your job. I just like to remind my staff on occasion just so there are no discrepancies on my expectations.”
Jasmine shut her mouth on her reply and nodded curtly before turning and leaving the room quickly. These were the times she wondered why she stayed at the facility. There were so many rules and regulations which she believed were unhealthy, if not downright unethical. If it were not for the patients themselves, she would have left long before. She knew her sessions actually helped her patients to recover quicker than those on medication alone. Amanda needed her continued support, and she would do whatever she could to get her through this time in her life.
Once back in her own office, Jasmine looked over her calendar for the rest of the day and decided she should see Amanda immediately after lunch. Since medication was dispensed immediately after each meal, she thought she would have at least a half an hour before the full effect of the medication kicked in. Maybe Amanda would have a few minutes of lucidity at the beginning of their session where a breakthrough could be made.
Jasmine sent a message to Dr. Gascon letting him know when she planned to meet again with Amanda and hoped he would have a conflict and either not come to the session or at least be late. She felt it was unprofessional and disruptive to have a second doctor in the room during the session, but she could hardly refuse to allow the Program Director from participating.
She opened a drawer and took her lunch out and set it on her desk. She recognized she should eat before the session began because it would be a long one. Jasmine opened the paper bag and took out the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and slowly unwrapped it. She held the bread in her hands and looked down at it and realized her appetite was effectively ruined by her anger toward Dr. Gascon. After re-wrapping the sandwich, she shoved it angrily back into the bag and grabbed it up and tossed it back into the still-open drawer which she shoved closed with a satisfying bang.
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