Gabriel's Hope (#1, Rhyn Eternal) (15 page)

Deidre had the sudden urge to go home. Maybe, if she returned to her apartment, she’d find everything was back to normal. She’d break up with Logan and die in three months. The simple plan never seemed more appealing.

“I, ah, think I want to go lay down,” she said.

“We can finish later,” Ileana said with a kind smile. “It gets easier.”

Deidre nodded, unable to think of a response that didn’t involve crying or fleeing. She left the dining area and returned to her room. Seating herself on the bed, she stared at a wall for a long time before pulling herself out of the trance.

She really,
really
wanted to go home! Gabriel’s strange magic tingled in her body, warming her. She twisted to pull her feet onto her bed and choked back a scream.

In front of the bed, a dark cave had opened in the middle of her room, swallowing the wall where the door had been. It hovered. Beyond its yawning mouth, she saw what looked like yellow doorways glowing. One of them was brighter than the others, as if trying to draw her attention.

Heart flying, Deidre stood and moved to the end of the bed. She reached out to the cave. The temperature beyond its opening was cold, the air heavy and clammy. She’d felt the weird sensations before …

Shadow world.

Daniela said they passed through it on their way to the island.

Suddenly hopeful, Deidre stepped into the in-between place. The cave closed behind her, startling her. She looked around, not liking the feel of the shadow world. She walked towards the brightest of the glowing doorways and hesitated, unable to see through it. For all she knew, the Grand Canyon was on the other side.

“Might not be a bad thing,” she murmured. With a deep breath, she stepped through and braced herself to fall.

She didn’t. The clingy cold of the shadow world disappeared, and she was left standing in the middle of her apartment.

Relief brought tears to her eyes. She sucked in a steadying breath, praying any sign of the violence from her last visit was gone.

“No bodies, no blood,” she observed of the living room.

She walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom, cringing. She opened the door and closed it quickly.

Things hadn’t gone back to normal after all. She wasn’t about to look in the bathtub. Instead, she went to her bedroom, changed into her clothing and packed a bag. She took the money in her emergency stash, grabbed her purse, and left.

The heavy Southern day reminded her of the Caribbean. Deidre dug through her purse as she walked and pulled out her cell, thrilled to see she had battery power. She could think of one place to go right now.

She called Wynn.

“Deidre?” He answered at once.

Surprised he’d been waiting for her call, she hesitated. After all she’d been through lately, she couldn’t help feeling a little wary. She shook her head. This was the doctor who stuck by her for years after her diagnosis. If anything, she owed him at least the benefit of the doubt.

“Hi Doc,” she said. “Just calling to uh, say hi, I guess.”

“Lovely to hear from you, especially today.” He sounded tired. “I quit Friday.”

“What? You quit working at the hospital?”

“Emphatically.”

“Wow.” She smiled, comforted by the familiarity of his unique communication style.

“Yes, wow.” There was silent laughter in his voice.

“I’m sorry to hear it, Wynn. You’re the best,” she said. “You’re pretty much all that held me together over the years.”

“Your expectations of those around you always were too low, Deidre.”

She laughed, waiting for the light to change so she could cross the street. Her gaze passed over the faces in the crowd across the street. Recognizing one, she looked back, tensing. He was gone, but she almost felt the cold stare of the other man who had been in her apartment.

“Listen, I was calling to –“

“Hey, Doc, are you still in Atlanta?” she cut him off.

“Yes. I plan on moving in a month or so.” There was a pause. “Is everything okay?”

“No, not really,” she said as cheerfully as she could manage. She started across the street and down the road. “Could I possibly come see you?”

“Of course. I’ve got one more pad of scripts. I can write up some pain meds.”

“Oh, no, I’m … well terminal but relatively okay in that area. Just having some other issues.”

“Ah, Logan. The world of the living tires of the dying.”

“Sort of.”

“Come on by. I’ll text you my address.”

Grateful for somewhere to go, Deidre hung up and waited for his text. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and she glanced around. She didn’t see Jared, but she couldn’t shake the sense he – or someone else – was following her.

She caught a cab across town and arrived at the swanky suburbs on the south side of the city. Dr. Wynn’s massive home was located along a street lined by manicured lawns and gated homes. The cab dropped her off, and she went to the side entrance to buzz in as Wynn directed in his text.

He was waiting for her in the garden, seated at a tea table under an awning. A pitcher of lemonade was on the table. He rose as she approached and kissed her cheek before pulling out the chair for her.

“You look as eager for tomorrow as I am,” he said.

Deidre smiled. He’d always had a morbid sense of humor, like hers.

“Talk to me. You only call when it’s raining.”

“Gee, thanks! I feel like crap now,” she said. “You first. Tell me what happened that made you walk out on being a doctor.”

“Life,” he said with a shake of his head. “Got sick of the politics. I used to be able to help people like you.”

“Poor people?”

“Underprivileged,” he corrected with a smile. “There are emerging procedures that will help people who need it, but the cost is beyond what any hospital will spend, knowing no one can pay for it. I got fed up and walked.”

“You’re so good, Doc,” she said, troubled. “I mean, you can still help people like me. You extended my life over three years after the others said I had a few months.”

“You were an anomaly, like a band-aid. I thought if I had enough band-aids, I’d be able to wait out the politics. There was no one else but you, and I gave up.”

 “I can’t believe that. You always treated me like I was your only patient,” she said. “You have no idea how much of a difference that made to me and probably to the rest of your patients. Even if you couldn’t extend our lives, you brought us comfort.”

“Perhaps.”

She hid a smile. He wasn’t convinced.

“Your turn,” he said. “Oh, and stop calling me Doc. It’s Wynn. Now, talk, Deidre. I see it on your face.”

She looked away, uncertain what to say. “Logan did break up with me.”
Or died. God help me, I have no idea.
“Life got real weird, real fast. I, um, don’t even know …”

“I take it you have no place to stay.” His eyes went to the bag at her feet.

“That’s a different issue entirely,” she said. “I didn’t come here to throw myself at your feet for a place to stay.”

“Or did you?” he asked.

Deidre wasn’t certain what made her so comfortable with Wynn. He was always able to read her, probably because he was the first to tell her she was dying. He was one of the only people she didn’t shut out of her life when she was diagnosed as terminal. He knew her mind better than she did.

“You never liked him, did you?” she asked.

“Never. He was a band-aid for you. I figured he’d walk out on you sooner.”

“Yeah. I guess it was inevitable. There you have it.”

“Dying didn’t send you scrambling to my door but Logan did?”

Deidre flushed. “Doc … Wynn …” How did she explain her weekend to someone normal? She rubbed her face. “Later?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Very well.”

“It’s far too weird.”

“How weird?” he asked, interest on his face. “Living for three years after a diagnosis of dying in a month weird?”

“Weirder. Like …” she paused, grappling with some way to explain things. “…realizing everything you know about the world is wrong. Or maybe, incomplete is a better word.”

“You’ve intrigued me.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table.

She groaned, aware of how many questions he could ask when he was interested in something. She’d seen him take out a hospital administrator with pure logic to get his way to run a procedure on her.

“Please?” she asked, embarrassed to feel tears in her eyes. “Later?”

“Only because I like you.”

She rolled her eyes and wiped away the tears.

“Come inside,” he said. “We could both use a drink, I think.”

She followed Wynn into his home. She suspected he came from money, and a glance around confirmed it. His collection of antiques was unrivaled and perfectly coordinated, as if he’d meandered through history to hand-pick them.

Like someone who was immortal.

She missed a step. Deidre shook her head at the stupid thought. Just because she knew there was a shadow society didn’t mean everyone she ran into was part of it! Wealthy people could afford to choose scarce antiques like his.

Her gaze caught on a picture of a beach house on the ocean, and she hesitated. She never did call the police about the body she found. She couldn’t shake the feeling she got when she first saw the faceless corpse, that he was Logan. Even though she’d seen Logan in her apartment, before Gabriel chopped him down.

Deidre shivered, unable to move from the picture. She’d left her favorite clothes at the beach house.

“What is it, my dear?” Wynn called. He was leaning over the railing overlooking the massive marble foyer.

“Do you have plans?” she asked.

“It’s the first Monday after I walked out on my job. I’m open to suggestions.”

She laughed. “I have one.”

“Bring your bag up and we’ll go.”

Comforted by her only remaining normal friend, Deidre followed him to the wing of guest bedrooms, surprised at how huge her room was. She dropped her bag off and joined him in the hallway.

“Where are we going?” he asked, pausing.

“To the ocean.”

“I’ll bring a jacket.” He headed down the opposite hallway.

Deidre waited for him in the lobby. She couldn’t help pacing. Being alone meant she started thinking again, something she didn’t want to do. Wynn trotted down the grand staircase, keys in one hand and jacket in the other. He wore khakis and a short-sleeved shirt.

The highways were quiet on the Monday mid-morning, and they drove the three hours faster than she was expecting. Wynn was brilliant at small talk, distracting her and making her laugh with his dry, morbid humor. She grew edgy as they passed the town near the bungalow before pulling up the long driveway to the beach house.

Her palms were sweating at the memories the beach house held. Deidre exited the car and paused.

“I’ve been patient,” Wynn reminded her as he closed his door. “Where are we and why?”

“I, uh, rented the place for the weekend then extended it through the week,” she said.

“Very good taste,” he said, taking in the house. “Why do I have the feeling the place is haunted or something?”

“You’re probably not far off,” she admitted. “It was a weird weekend. I kinda left in a hurry.”

Bracing herself, she opened the front door and crossed through the house. Everything was where she left it, down to the candle on the back porch. Her nervousness grew as she looked down the beach. It was daylight, and there were a ton of people around. Wynn was with her.

Nothing could hurt her.

She didn’t wait for him but flipped off her sandals and jogged down the beach, towards the abandoned lot nearby. Relief flooded her as she saw the police tape around the area where she’d found the body. Someone else reported it.

Shaking from more than the chilled ocean breeze, Deidre walked up the beach to the area. No sign of what happened remained. She wasn’t sure what she sought; maybe something that convinced her it wasn’t Logan she saw. She forced herself to breathe deeply and continued towards the distant road. The police had cordoned off the driveway, too, and posted signs around the entrance.

Reaching the road, she caught sight of something that made her blood run cold again.

Her car. It was parked in the driveway of the neighboring lot, where she’d seen no lights or activity all weekend. Deidre prayed she was wrong as she approached. She pulled her keys out of her purse and clicked the unlock button, mouth dry as the vehicle’s lights blinked.

She slowed at the pool of blood on the driver’s side. There was more in the car, covering the driver’s seat and the mat on the floor.

If Logan’s body was the one she found on the beach, who had been in her apartment?

“Weird does not describe this.” Wynn’s voice made her jump. He stood a few feet away, eyes on the blood. “This is your car.”

She nodded. He met her gaze, intent but patient.

“Logan didn’t leave me,” she said slowly. “He uh, kinda died.”

Nothing surprised Wynn. He moved to stand beside her. He observed the car’s interior with the clinical distance of a scientist.

“The amount of blood loss and direction and force of the spray looks like his jugular was …”

She gasped.

“Sorry. I’d say he died violently.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Deidre covered her mouth, more confused. Either Gabriel killed him here, or he killed Logan in her apartment.

“When did this happen?” Wynn asked. He opened the door, studying the interior.

“Saturday night,” she replied.

“Not possible. It had to be several days ago.”

“We got here Thursday afternoon,” she said, confused.

“Did you see his body?”

She swallowed hard at the question, panic fluttering through her. At her silence, he straightened to look at her. She nodded.

“Yesterday, around three in the afternoon.”

“Was it bloated, or did he look like he was taking a nap?”

“Bloated.”

“He’d been dead for at least two days, then, long enough for rigor to set in and the body to start releasing gases,” Wynn said. “Which would fit with this mess.”

“That’s not possible,” she said. “Wynn, he was with me Friday and Saturday. I saw him yesterday.”