Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (100 page)

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Authors: Chrissy Peebles

Tags: #romance, #love, #fantasy, #paranormal

BOOK: Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology)
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The older man sported a boyish grin.
"No problem. It's quite a nice change, actually."

Still, she couldn't help a sheepish
grin, feeling a little more of her normal reserve drop off. She
felt more comfortable with him than she ever had before.

"There's a phone call for you, Dr.
Wascott." One of the vet assistants walked into the room, smiling.
"Good morning, Samantha. How are you today?"

Feeling unnaturally peaceful, Sam
nodded to the other woman. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Good. There's fresh bread, a new
grainy recipe from the corner bakery, in the lunchroom. Lucy also
brought in some fresh creamed honey. Make sure you have some before
your shift is over."

The idea of fresh baked bread made
her mouth water. "Thanks, I'd like to try it."

"You're done now. There's a fresh pot
of tea in there, too. Go enjoy." Dr. Wascott nudged Sam's arm
before walking out of the room.

The treat sounded too irresistible to
ignore.

Sam slipped into the lunchroom,
slightly disappointed to find it empty. With a frown, she
considered that. How long had it been since she'd relished
company?

The bread smelled luscious. A fresh
yeasty aroma wafted free as Sam cut of a thick slice. An open
canning jar full of creamy honey sat on the counter. In the light,
the honey had a deep opaque milkiness to it. Opening the lid, Sam
sniffed the contents. Using the tip of her knife, she tasted a
small bit and rolled her eyes as the flavor exploded on her tongue.
Oh my God, that was so good. Quickly, Sam slathered the top of her
bread with a thick layer before sitting at the small table with her
tea.

"It's good, isn't it?

Sam started in surprise, so lost in
the snack she hadn't heard anyone enter. With her mouth full, she
could only nod.

Lucy grinned, cutting herself a
slice.

Afterwards, Sam headed to the library
for more research books. From there, it was a quick hop over to the
grocery store for a couple of items.

She stood in line, waiting to pay for
her purchase. She should have come here earlier and avoided the
rush. Crowds gave her a headache. She reached up to rub her temple
when she felt it.

A long finger of evil reached out and
brushed her soul.

The grocery store disappeared, the
line of people morphed into a small tidy room. The smell of
medicine and aftershave assailed her nose. A gruff cough poured
from her chest. Sam bent to rub her sore leg, surprised to see a
cane in her right hand and plaid slippers on her feet.

Her hand
went to her chest as she shuffled over to an easy chair, stiff
movements jarring her spine with each step. Evil surrounded her

him
. Only she
didn't think he knew about it.

"Hey, old man?"

The male body she inhabited jerked in
surprise, turning somewhat awkwardly. The other man had a huge old
lady's hat with flowers…and Christ, something that resembled a bird
on top. A silk paisley scarf wrapped around the lower portion of
his face, obscuring all, but his dark voracious eyes. Sam's stomach
dropped. She knew that gaze. She wanted to close her eyes but they
weren't her own. She wanted to jump free, but she was tied to this
soul.

"Who are you and what are you doing
in my room?"

"Just taking care of details. The
mark of a professional is in giving every detail the same level of
attention – no matter how small." The voice was muffled and
rasping. Sam knew she wouldn't be able to identify it in real
time.

"What do you want?" the old man asked
querulously. "Get out of my room." Sam wanted to run from the room,
to force the old man to move toward the door. She had no control
over his limbs or tongue. She could only watch, paralyzed with
horror, knowing what was to come. She tried to catalogue the
details for later.

"Oh, I'm leaving, colonel. But I'll
be back – you on the other hand, won't be."

Pain exploded at the crown of Sam's
head, colors danced, blinding her. She groaned. The carpet rushed
up to meet her, as she collapsed to the floor.

Darkness swirled, coaxing her into
the center of the morass before becoming an all-encompassing shroud
then blinking out all together. Sam hung suspended between time and
reality. Not moving one way or another. Caught. Lost.

At the last minute, Sam heard a faint
voice weaving through the darkness, "Serves you right, you old
bastard."

Then the darkness was
complete.

"Excuse me." Sam was nudged gently
and then again, not so gently. "Excuse me? Are you
alright?"

Sam came to, woozy and still in a
half-blind state. She could hardly focus. A woman's concerned face,
blurry and of an odd size came into partial focus. "Yeess." Her
tongue had a fuzzy, thick feeling and if that was her voice,
something was wrong. Very wrong.

"You don't look it." The woman spoke
bluntly, tugging Sam to a chair nearby. The grocery basket was
removed from Sam's arms and she was gently pushed into the
chair.

Sam's eyes went black with pain. This
wasn't transition, it wasn't reality either. It seemed a step in
between – still painful with any movement, yet no bleeding, or
other physical manifestations as far as she could tell. It would be
a couple of moments before she'd be able to check.

"Are you a diabetic? An
epileptic?"

Sam managed to shake her head slowly.
"No," she whispered. "I'm fine."

The woman didn't appear convinced.
"Do you want to just sit here for a few minutes?" She rose, taking
several steps away. "I can return in a moment or two and see how
you are doing?" She stopped her escape. "Or I could call for an
ambulance?"

Sam eyed the woman again. Her eyes
were huge with worry. Sam closed her own for a moment then reopened
them again. The process worked much better this time. She gave her
a tiny gentle smile. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'll just sit here
until I feel better."

"Okay." Relief washed over the
woman's face. "As long as you are feeling better, then I'll leave.
I’ll check on you in a little bit."

Sam said thanks and couldn't hold
back a sigh of relief when the woman left. She really didn't feel
well. Yet, neither could she say that she felt really
bad.

She couldn't explain in a way anyone
would understand. Whatever had just happened had drained her
energy. She needed rest, and soon. First, she needed to get out of
the public's eye.

Surveying the area around her, she
couldn't find her basket of groceries anywhere. They could be
sitting close, waiting for her, not that she had the energy to look
or to care. She'd shop later. For now, she'd be happy with getting
to her truck.

Staying upright was a challenge.
Using the wall for stability, Sam slipped through the double doors
to the parking lot. Her truck was somewhere in the middle. She
closed her eyes and leaned against the outside wall. The fresh air
helped. Several deep breaths later, her eyesight had returned to
normal. If she waited just one more minute, she might be able to
walk there like a normal person.

Once at her truck, she struggled
inside, shutting the door with more force than necessary. She took
another deep breath and evaluated her state of health. Most
functions had returned to normal. She didn't know about her speech.
But the pain was gone. Achiness remained, yet that was liveable.
Her motor functions had returned to normal.

She pulled her cell phone out and
dialed Brandt.

"Hello."

"Brandt." She winced. No, her voice
wasn't quite normal.

"What's wrong?" His voice had no
problem – it damn near split her eardrum.

She held the phone away from her ear,
groaning as her head pounded. "Don't yell, please."

He modulated his tone. "Then tell me
what's wrong. You sound terrible."

"I'm just coming out of a vision."
Sam coughed gently. "This one was weird. This time some old man was
hit over the head."

"What?"

Sam could almost see his brow
furrowed with concentration.

"Did you see the attacker?

"He was disguised as an old woman.
The old man knew him. I think I've been at this place before. Not
the same room maybe, but something similar."

"Sam. I have another call coming in.
I'll call you right back. Where are you?"

"I'm sitting in the shopping center
across from work. While waiting in line at the grocery store, the
vision damn near crippled me."

"But you're okay now?"

"Yes. Call me soon." Sam rang off.
She rested her head against the side window and closed her
eyes.

Chapter 17

1:20 pm

B
randt answered the second call
impatiently. He needed to call Sam. Damn it all to hell. His
fingers rubbed the ridge of his nose.

"Hello." He couldn't help the
shortness in his voice.

He listened for a moment, and with
the cries from the other end of the phone ringing in his ears,
Brandt grabbed his keys and ran out the door.

It was a short trip, barely fifteen
minutes before Brandt drove into the parking lot of the senior care
home to be greeted by the all too common sight of an ambulance. He
strode forward into the empty hallway. Arriving at his mother's
suite, he was surprised to find that empty, too. But maybe he
shouldn't be. She could always be found at the center of any
gathering – and medical emergencies definitely
qualified.

He raced to the colonel's quarters.
Turning the corner, his steps slowed. A crowd had gathered at the
doorway to the colonel's apartment.

Brandt pushed his way through, his
heart dropping at the sight. The colonel was on the stretcher,
strapped down. An oxygen mask covered most of his face.

Pulling his badge out, he addressed
the paramedics. "What happened?" He leaned over the prone man. The
colonel's wrinkled grey face resembled clay that had been baked in
the sun too long. Unconsciousness hadn't smoothed the deep wrinkles
splitting his face. No injuries were apparent.

One of the paramedics walked over.
"He was found on the floor. His pulse is strong and he appears to
be suffering from a head injury."

"Head injury?" Brandt bent for a
closer look, but only the corner of a blood-soaked bandage was
visible.

"He might have fallen and hit his
head," offered one of the many bystanders. "He wasn't as steady on
his feet as he used to be."

Brandt nodded absentmindedly. The
colonel used a walking stick most times. Sure enough, there it was
leaning against the wall by his big recliner. The room was so full
of people it was hard to move. He stepped out of the way of the
stretcher as the two attending men pushed it out to the waiting
ambulance. It was only as Brandt turned around to survey the rest
of the room that he saw her.

His mom sat with her knees to her
chin, her arms snugged tight around her legs like a young child.
She swayed gently on the chair, tears in her eyes.

"Mom?" Brandt approached and sat
close beside her. Wrapping one arm around her, he gently rubbed her
arms. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I will be. Just a little
upset."

"Were you with him when he
collapsed?" Brandt hugged her gently, concerned at the frailty of
this feisty valiant woman. She came across as such a powerhouse,
then when knocked off balance, she folded.

Giving her time to collect herself,
Brandt stared at the other curiosity seekers. Many had started to
wander away in search of something more exciting. Still others were
waiting, hoping to hear what Maisy would say. Brandt didn't intend
to have anyone overhear them.

"Come on. Let's go to your place." He
led her through the thinning crowd to her suite. Once inside, he
set her in her favorite chair then closed the door on the concerned
well-wishers mingling outside. "She'll be fine folks. She's just a
little upset."

Turning back to his mother, he added,
"I'll make some tea, and you can tell me all about it."

Without waiting for an answer, Brandt
put on the teakettle and returned to her side. "Now I need you to
tell me what happened. Why are you so upset?"

She lifted her head to peer at him.
Torment and guilt gleamed through.

"Did you have something to do with
his collapse?" asked Brandt, confused.

"I don't know." Maisy's eyes welled.
"The dogs came today, so everyone was in the meeting rooms enjoying
their visit. Everyone talked about everything, but the colonel was
center stage because of the ring the police are trying to find and
what the colonel was trying to remember."

Maisy chewed her bottom lip and
didn't continue.

"Then..." prompted Brandt.

"We walked to his apartment where I
left him while I went for lunch. After lunch, I came home to lie
down."

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