Authors: Amber Scott
“
I guess so.”
“
As you know, maintaining a good balance of your medications is crucial to your stability, your well-being and to your functionality. I know you want to remain functional, Sadie.”
Play along, anything to avoid sounding alarms. “Absolutely. I didn’t think of it that way. I’ll call him right after our appointment today.”
Dr. Meyers smiled. “Good. I also think we’d better see him as soon as possible.” By we, Sadie knew Dr. Meyers meant she. Or did she?
“
Okay,” Sadie said, unable to look at her sister or the painting. It needed so much more. His eyes, the black-winged man in the distance behind him. “I’ll make an appointment.”
“
I think you should take this with you,” Heather retrieved the journal from beside her, hidden from view.
Sadie stomach somersaulted. “Why?”
“
I think he should see this, too.” Heather pulled out another hidden bound book.
Sadie recognized the flowery, homemade cover immediately. Memories of her mother, frantically scribbling into one of hundreds like it, flashed through her. Her mouth went dry. “Why?”
“
Let me say, I don’t agree with your sister crossing a clear boundary here, Sadie,” Dr. Meyers said. “But I am glad she did. Considering your family history and the recent bout of flu, the stress of a possible romantic relationship can be enough to tip the scales, so to speak.” Dr. Meyers swept her hand as she spoke. Nice, slow, calming motions. “I think it’s best to see Dr. Fox today. He can begin to adjust your regimen, evaluate you. Our goal here is to keep you functional for as long as possible.”
Images of needles and numbness filled her head. She didn’t need to know why the journals looked relevant, she could guess. Dreams and prophecies and more? Word salad? At one level, she was hopeful. If the words on the page made little sense
,
then neither of them knew much. They didn’t know about the dreams, about the secret messages she never could decipher.
An odd awareness tingled her brain. Deciphering? What were those messages again?
“
Heather arrived early, and together, we decided to call Dr. Fox. He can see you at four.” Dr. Meyers didn’t have her usual pen and pad. “Heather can take you there after our visit. In fact, if you’re willing, we can end today’s session now so you can get to his office early. I’m sure you can agree, the sooner we get you stable, the better. After all, you’ve made excellent progress. You’ve begun dating, isn’t that so?”
Sadie blinked. “Yes. Two dates. He’s nice.” How was she going to get out of this? It wasn’t as though she could refuse. ‘Thanks
,
but no thanks wouldn’t fly. It’d earn her a hospitalization. “We can end early.”
“
Wonderful.”
Heather nodded, her chin puckered.
They left. Sadie’s pulse jammed. Heather pointed to where her parked car. She had to do something. Anything. “What if I make sense now?”
“
I’m sorry?” Heather said.
“
What if I write something now, if it makes sense, now that I’ve resumed taking my meds, what would that mean?”
“
Sadie these entries cannot be from when you got the flu,” Heather said softly.
“
Okay. Maybe you’re right.” She could not go to Dr. Fox. He would give her a shot. Who knew what an antipsychotic would do to her transformation? Whatever Elijah believed, she had to think the change was not yet complete. “But I’d still like to know. Would it mean you’d believe me? Trust me?”
Heather’s hands smacked her thighs. “Fine. Go ahead. But it doesn’t prove anything.”
She had to get back to Elijah, even if he wasn’t there yet. “It will prove I’m okay. You can compare the handwriting. My brain is functioning normally now, my meds are working.”
Heather handed her both journals. Sadie sat inside the car, her feet still on the pavement. Agitation emanated off Heather like steam. The pen shook in her hand as she found the first blank page. She pressed the ballpoint to the page and wrote:
I am not crazy. I do not need to see Dr. Fox. Let’s go get ice cream instead!
Heather took the journal and read. She rolled her eyes. “Ice cream? Sadie, if you’re not going to take this seriously….”
“
See? I’m okay. I don’t know why the other entries are a mess. I was sick. Feverish. But I do know this. I am fine now. Today, I’m alright.”
“
If you’re fine
,
then seeing Dr. Fox shouldn’t be a big deal.”
She couldn’t risk it. How often had her wishes been ignored before? Crazy people had no real voice. “You’re right. It shouldn’t. If I didn’t have somewhere to be, I’d go.”
Heather crossed her arms. “You’re being manipulative and paranoid
,
Sadie
,
and we both know that it’s symptomatic. If I have to go back in there and get Dr. Meyers’ help right now, I will.”
Sadie stood. “I don’t want to get ugly, Heather.”
“
Then don’t. Come with me now.” Heather’s chin trembled. “Please.”
Remorse poured through Sadie. She hugged the journals. This was going to hurt like hell. “I’ll call you in a couple of days. I’m going to ask you to trust me.”
“
You know I wish I could. But I can’t let you go.”
Sadie pulled away as her sister reached out. “I’ll call you Monday.” She turned and sprinted toward Holly’s car, glad it wasn’t far. She fumbled the keys into the ignition, seeing Heather running to the office in her rearview mirror. The tires squealed as she pulled out. All she could think was to leave, fast, before Heather got Dr. Meyers or anyone else inside, before someone could write down the plate number. The light changed to red as Sadie sped through. The freeway entrance stood ahead. She followed it and two miles later, swiped a hand over her face.
She had either saved her new life or had completely destroyed it.
~ ~ ~
Dawn drenched the St. Louis sky in pale gold. Elijah couldn’t stop thinking about Sadie. Two days away, he should be feeling less pressure to go back, to see her. Not more.
“
Like a moth to a flame, eh, my friend?” Lyric said.
“
Not quite,” Elijah said. The warehouse district they perched above smelled like cold garbage.
“
A bee to a clover?” Lyric added with not a drip of sympathy.
Leave it to Lyric to find Elijah’s downfall funny. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“
As if I wouldn’t have guessed.” Lyric straightened and paced the tarred rooftop. “You’re wearing a lot more than your heart on your sleeve, Elijah. That girl’s on every inch of you.”
“
Let’s focus on locating Charity, shall we?” Transporting the two of them to three cities had pummeled his energy. And his mind. Maybe that’s why he was having so much trouble focusing. He needed rest. He longed to return to her. And that meant he needed to stay away. If he stayed away long enough, the last threads of Sadie’s change would complete and at least one of them would be sane again. “If she isn’t here, where do we search next?”
“
If she isn’t here, I honestly can’t say where we could try next. Find someone who knows? One of her flock?”
Elijah shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The single interrogation they’d performed so far had been useless. Try as he might, Lyric had struggled with feeding and extracting information from the Arizona pastor. What if it had been an immortal’s mind they’d been trying to filter information from? Would it go better? Worse? Or had blood use damaged Lyric’s abilities? Elijah should have considered as much. And he found himself unable to blame Lyric now. He’d begun to wonder if Crusoe wanted to be found. What if he wasn’t alive? What then?
“
I feel like we’re chasing circles.”
Lyric nodded. “We’ll go back then. Without Holly here, we’re handicapped anyway. Maybe if we talk to Holly, she’ll remember something more than I do.”
“
I hate leaving empty handed.”
“
You and I both. But hey, we’re here now. Maybe our luck will turn.”
Elijah nodded half-heartedly. Too bad he knew Lyric believed a man made his own luck.
The sun shone bright and the city began to stir. Charity preferred her emotional fix with a desperate flavor. The Spirit of Joy Church of Christ would soon open its doors for a Saturday morning service. The industrial location spoke of the human bend that would prefer a location like it. As did the parishioners as they arrived.
Hard lives. The ruddy
-
faced alcoholics, the grayish
-
skinned smokers. Heroin addicts with eyes so bleak, Elijah cringed. These people had faced demons and pain all their lives. Feeders and humans alike sucked their will and their self-respect and sadly, only the rarity would break free and find an unburdened life.
“
You don’t need to feel ashamed for them.” Lyric held his gaze. “I can tell you with perfect confidence that a man lives by his choices. They do.”
Elijah looked away. He didn’t want to talk about where Lyric had been or why he could say such a thing. “It’s not pity that I feel when I see them.” More like revulsion. He hated that Lyric had fed off this kind of human.
“
The world is not black and white, Elijah. It’s gray. And like it or not, for every saint there must be a sinner.”
The throng below grew to ten or so. Some smoked, some paced, watching their feet like children.
“
Don’t patronize me, Lyric. I know how the world works.” It didn’t mean he had to like it or that he shouldn’t expect better of those he chose to call family.
“
Look at it this way, maybe I was meant to go to the proverbial dark side. Having endured my absence, having become enamored with you, Charity might lead us to Crusoe.”
What if Charity and her feeders had been following Monica, not to locate Sadie, but to locate him? “Crusoe wouldn’t be missing at all if not for us.”
“
No thanks to me. More than a century hunting together, I never thought I’d find myself suddenly desperately in love with Holly, of all immortals, never mind that Crusoe would be as well.” The wind shifted along with Lyric’s usual casual tone. “We can’t go back, but if the last four days are any indication, we still make a good team. Once this is over, and I truly believe it will soon be, we can…”
“
We can what? Pick up where we left off? Assuming Crusoe is alive, not brainwashed, wants to return, is over Holly and then what? Contact High Council and report for duty again?” He stretched his wings out, reflexively.
Lyric looked away. “No, I suppose you’re right.” He shrugged. “Least things have gotten interesting, eh?”
Elijah snorted. “Leave it to you to enjoy all this upheaval.”
The sound of a metal door echoed up to them, silencing Lyric’s rebuttal. Services appeared to be soon commencing. In unison, they strode to the far ledge, out of view, and dropped off to the ground. Elijah retracted his wings. Walking into staked territory full flexed would send the wrong message. They were here for answers. For now.
Elijah’d be lying if he denied anticipating a good battle, though. The very idea sent adrenaline rippling through his veins. The buzz of it cut the fog Sadie left behind. He welcomed the clarity and entered the assemblage craving the taste of a nice, bloody brawl. Maybe it showed. Because a high
-
pitched hiss immediately met his ears. Charity. She saw them from across the room and charged.
Humans rushed aside as the feeder hyper-sped across the floor. Lyric tried to stand between them, but Elijah wanted the fight. He stepped around Lyric and flew at her. Metal chairs crashed. A woman cried out. Elijah clenched his fists and braced for her venomous impact. Her body hit his like a thunderclap, sending them to the concrete floor. Her hands wound around his neck, stronger than he’d imagined. Her signature tug in his chest pulled
taut
and hard and he at last realized she was trying to feed.
Lyric managed to separate them and forced Elijah back several feet. “Not here,” he growled.
For once in his life, Elijah didn’t care.
Three of her feeders skulked closer, rage in their eyes. Elijah knocked Lyric out of his way. This soul-sucking scum would pay. All the rage and anger he’d carried over failing Crusoe, the pent up tension and guilt from his encounter with Sadie, all coiled and burst forth.
He pounced on Charity and dragged her to the floor, his hands around her neck. He bound his wings around her and transported their bodies to the rooftop he’d perched on moments before. If not for his fatigue, he’d have taken her all the way to his favorite Godforsaken Nevada de
s
ert.
Her elbow jabbed into his ribs. Elijah grunted. The crack confirmed she broke at least one of his bones there. Freed, his anger exploded. He embraced it and head-butted her. Her low sick hum rang through him. Charity laughed and force
-
fed his mind images. Lyric on the ground, flopping like a fish, naked, his eyes lolling back, his erection bleeding. Her above his erection. Her body drenched in blood, a little girl crying in the corner with torn panties around her ankles.