Knock, knock... (42 page)

Obediently, Roman closed his eyes and started all over on yet another blank canvas. He explained how he'd loved her long before he'd met her. How he'd been ashamed to tell her. How he hadn't been able to explain for fear of chasing her away. And he'd do anything to keep her in his life.

Anything.

Before he really understood how much he'd done or the time that had passed, he realized a fatigue like he'd never known before had settled deep into his soul.

"Open your eyes."

Roman gazed at the more collected, but still undefined, form of a woman hovering over the slack woman in white. He checked on Shay. This time he could see the change. The stillness was gone. She wasn't back, but she no longer looked like the living dead.

"Again."

This time, Roman knew what to do. Seeing the change, knowing his efforts were working, he closed his eyes, and with determination and a hint of anger in his voice he called out to her while his arm worked at a furious pace – with a surety to it's strokes. If she was listening, then she could damn well come home.

"Shay. Get yourself back home and into my bed where you belong," he roared. "I love you. I always have. God damn it, I won't sleep with your ghost for the rest of my life. Get your beautiful ass home – now."

He could sense Stefan's surprise. Felt his bated breath as he waited to see what would happen next. Roman opened his eyes and couldn't believe the image on his canvas. "Wow."

"I'll say."

The red polka dot form had lain down over top of the white still form, injecting existence and blood into the woman on the canvas. The red became pink, giving the impression of life and a spark to her image.

He threw down the paintbrush and raced back to his bed.

And cried out in pain.

Shay didn't look any different.

His heart dropped. He'd been so sure he'd actually be able to make his paintings create truth in real life. Panic set in. Ignoring the rules he'd been told, not to touch, and with Stefan making no move to stop him, Roman dropped to her side, lowered his head and kissed her. Gently. Tenderly. Afraid to hurt her.

He pulled back, studied her for a long moment. Then spoke forcefully, lovingly, but giving no quarter. "Enough, damn it. Come home, Shay. Please."

And he dropped his head again and kissed her. Hard.

It took a few seconds to realize that the cool lips were warming beneath his, that the arms crushed against his chest were hanging on to his shirt, and that she really was responding.

He pulled back to stare into that beloved, half-lidded gaze. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes. "Shay? Oh thank God. I love you," he whispered. "Thank you for coming back."

"Thank you," she answered simply, "for showing me the way."

He dropped his forehead to rest on hers. "Good thing you came home or I'd have found a way to cross over and drag you back."

"You won't have to." She smiled, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes to slide down her face. "Just do what you did tonight. Use love and I'll always find my way back to you."

The two gazed at each other in exhaustion and hope, and then Roman lowered his head once again.

I
t was much later, after a shower and some food, that Shay pushed her chair back and walked over to the studio to stare at the pictures Roman had created to bring her home. As she studied the last one Roman picked up his palette and quickly created a last painting of Shay at home and whole. "Just to make sure."

She laughed. But she waited willingly. She asked Stefan and Roman all the questions that burned inside. "What happened to Jordan?"

"She's dead, for starters," Stefan said, an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not sure what the coroner will say is the cause of her death though. Her heart, the actual organ, exploded inside her chest." He grimaced. "I didn't know that could happen."

"Good thing," Roman muttered, as he focused on his painting. "Saved me from having to kill her."

Shay reached a hand up and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm going to have to overhaul my hiring policies. I could have saved myself a lot of heartache if I'd known she was Darren's sister."

"You and me both," said Stefan. "But there was no indication that Darren had any family living. He was adopted. They all were and to different families. Remember? The three of them found each other somehow. Their unique abilities may have facilitated that as they became young adults." He frowned. "According to Ronin, Darren and his twin Danny appeared to have been running scams together. I don't know if Jordan was as well. That's for the police to follow up on. If they ever do."

"Not likely," she scoffed. "This is difficult for them to understand."

"Difficult for anyone who wasn't there," murmured Roman, his gaze on his canvas. "As it is, I can't imagine the explanation they gave the public for the destruction in that hospital wing and as to how the kids all survived. Some kind of explosion I believe the media said."

"They had to say something. The public doesn't want to know about people like us."

"Roman’s brother is looking into Jordan’s history for us." Stefan rubbed his forehead and yawned. "I think I called in everyone I knew last night. Just to keep Jordan in check."

"I hope we never find anyone that strong or that crazy again." Shay shivered, so grateful to be home whole and healthy. It had been a close call and she knew who to thank for her safe return. Hopefully she'd be given a long and healthy life to thank him.

"You and me both," Stefan said.

"Why was she so strong at the hospital? I don't understand that." Shay had puzzled over that while in a hot shower. She hadn't been able to come up with an answer.

"I think she was drawing the energy from the protective bubble Maddy and I put over the children to keep them safe. Once she recognized how strong it was, she stopped trying to damage it. Instead, she started to use it to amplify her abilities."

Shay shivered. "Smart. And nasty."

Roman wiped his hands and reached out to squeeze hers. "But she's dead. So that's no longer an issue."

"She caused so much damage. She killed Bernice. For fun, I think." Shay already explained the bits and pieces she'd found in Jordan's mind. "And the others. Poor Pappy. I'm so glad he's doing fine. I don't know if I should tell him about Bernice or not."

With a snort, Roman said, "I'd want to know my beloved was standing over me as a guardian angel until it was my time to join her."

"Good point." Shay laughed. "I'll tell him tomorrow when we take him home to his apartment."

Stefan smiled down at her. "You did good tonight, Shay. You'll have to teach me that trick."

"Not any time in the near future." She shuddered. "The trip into Jordan's mind was not pleasant. So many people. Jordan treated so many victims as toys. How wrong is that?"

"We always believe the unbelievable can't happen – until someone proves us wrong." Stefan smiled at her. "Let's hope it will be a long time before we come up against someone else like this."

Shay nodded. "I'm just hoping that is the end of their family." Shay glanced over at Stefan. "I won't sleep well until I know I'm not going to be under attack from anyone else looking for payback because I killed off their family."

"That is one of the primary issues Ronin is looking into." Stefan paused when Roman stepped back from his painting. "We will find out."

"Wow." Shay stared at the picture on the canvas.

With a self-conscious shrug, Roman said, "Not good enough for the gallery, but it certainly should do the job for tonight's mess."

"It's beautiful," Stefan said sincerely. And it was. It was also the only painting with Shay's face. She still lay in bed, the covers up tight, but there was a calm serenity to the sleeping form. So few strokes but the painting glowed with life...and love.

Roman walked to his sideboard and picked up a tube of blue paint.

She laughed. "What are you doing with that color?"

He hunched his shoulders and said almost defensively, "Damned if I know. But I have to add it."

Shay glanced over at Stefan, one eyebrow raised. The smirk on his face had her tilting her head. "Stefan?"

His gaze deepened, the smile shining from the chocolate depths. "Listen."

She frowned. "I can't hear anything."

But Stefan's grin said there was something she should be hearing.

With a start, Roman said, "I'm hearing something. Like an engine. But…
What the hell...?"

Shay gasped. "Morris!" She spun around searching for the glowing ball. "Surely it can't be?"

Stefan laughed. "It is indeed your beloved pet. His soul scattered in the craziness of Darren's death, but he stayed with you all this time. As Roman brought you back…" Stefan nodded to the painting now sporting a ball of blue curled up on the woman's sleeping shoulder. "Roman also showed Morris the way to return in one piece. Or in as many pieces as the ghost of Morris contains."

Tears formed in Shay's eyes, to trickle down her cheeks as the truth, and the purr of her best feline friend, wrapped around her heart and hugged her close.

"So Roman saved not just one of us tonight – he saved us both." She walked over and wrapped her arms around Roman.

His arms closed tightly, holding her against his heart.

She whispered, "Thank you."

"You're both welcome," Roman said. The distant sound, like a warm, happy engine, kicked up a notch. "Although I'm not sure how to get used to a ghost cat."

Shay smiled. "No problem. After what you've been through, Morris will be easy."

"But I'm going home now." Stefan rose. "I'm way too tired to do anything but sleep for a few days." He hesitated. "I'm beyond tired actually. Must be the fallout from all those energy blasts. Hope my abilities aren't going to change over this mess."

"And mine." Shay smiled. "I don't imagine the others would be happy either."

"Happy or not, it's the life." Stefan smiled. "We will adapt, if need be."

"And speaking of those other people that stepped in and helped…" Roman said as they walked to the front door. "Thank them for me."

"Actually, I think it might be better if you two say it yourself." Stefan smiled at Shay. "Shay knows them all. Not well, but she knows them a whole lot better now than she did before. Don't forget to connect with Tabitha. She's just been released from hospital and is home now."

"And Pappy. Thank heavens." There'd been so much uncertainty, so much danger, and now it was over. Hard to believe.

Stefan reached out and gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you survived."

Tears pooled again. She sniffled them back and beamed a teary smile up at him. "Me too. Thanks for pointing Roman in the right direction and saving my life again."

His grin widened. "So we're even." He dropped a kiss on her forehead before he turned to face Roman. "Thank you for helping bring her home."

Roman smiled down at Shay, tucking her close under his arm. "And that's where she belongs."

They watched the elevator close behind Stefan. "Does it bother you that you might never have the same abilities that I do?" Shay asked, not wanting him to be envious, but showing she understood if he were.

"No. I might not like you disappearing like you have this scary tendency to do, but I'm sure I'll get used to it. Besides, I might not have
your
talents, but I have enough of my own."

"That you do." Shay realized he spoke the truth as he led her to his studio, where he’d placed the weird collection of paintings that had helped call her home. "Are you going to ever put these on display?"

"In a gallery? Oh no. Never."

"Not good enough, huh?" She laughed as she studied the weird paintings in order – from red splattered paint to the one with a hint of blue Morris.

"I don't know how I feel about so many paintings of just me," she admitted. "It's a little odd."

"Get used to it," he said cheerfully, "because now that I have you at my side, I have so much more to work with."

He tugged her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

Knock, Knock

(Psychic Visions, Book 5 )

Dale Mayer

Valley Publishing

Copyright © 2013

ISBN 13:978-1-927461-73-0 

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidences either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.