Winter's Scars: The Forsaken (Winter's Saga 5) (33 page)

Sloan and Alik exchanged looks.

Noticing the expressions on their faces, Cole blurted, “Dude, I was just kidding.”

Sloan shrugged, “If we had the capability and the memory loss weren’t a huge side effect, I’d be all for exploring that theory.”

“Wow, tell me you guys weren’t seriously considering that,” Farrow looked suspiciously at the two.

“Just a little punch drunk,” Alik shrugged.  “We’re all too tired.  My brain is starting to misfire.”

“I agree.  We should get some sleep.  Who knows what this day will bring.” Sloan mused.

“He was right.  We still haven’t solved the puzzle.” Alik sighed.  Everyone stayed where they sat, trying to mull over the original question.

Creed rolled the stiffness from his neck.  “We still don’t know whether Meg left us intentionally or was taken.  If Meg left intentionally, why bother leaving word with Evan to help us escape?  What motive would Evan have for wanting us to think Meg left us if she were really taken?  And if she
were
taken, why would Evan have insisted tonight that she left on her own?  And why wouldn’t Evan have told us everything that night in Tucumcari to clear his name?” 

The room was silent for a moment as Creed’s words sunk in.

“Ow, Dude,” Cole blurted.  “You just like blew five of my last six brain cells.  I’m running on fumes now, thanks.”  He stood, grabbed his empty soda cans and headed into the kitchen.

Sloan yawned deeply, stood and walked duck-footed toward the bedroom she would share with Farrow.  “Let’s just sleep on it guys.  G’night.”  She shuffled a few steps and turned back. “You coming, Farrow?”

“Be there in a minute,” Farrow said, leaning against Alik’s strong shoulder.

Creed kept holding his head, deep in thought, then stood abruptly.  “I’m going to take a shower.”  He started out the room mumbling something about “motives.” 

“What can I say?  He thinks more clearly in the shower.” Alik shrugged at Farrow’s confused look.

Two hours later, Theo was the first one up.  He was shuffling to the kitchen in his green plaid robe to make coffee when he made his way through the living room.  He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Farrow and Alik sitting up on the sofa, leaning against one another, holding hands in their sleep.  Theo smiled to himself as he grabbed a throw and draped it over the two. 

Chapter 60  Breakfast Part Two

“Why have you agreed to this visit?”  Arkdone asked, watching Meg’s body language carefully.

Meg thought carefully before she spoke.  “You were very detailed in your response to my question, so I can only assume you expect the same level of detail in my response to you,” she began.  Arkdone bowed his head slightly acknowledging her grasp of his expectations.

“After my,” she paused choosing her words, “inability to reintegrate with the Winter family, I knew I would have to go my own way—it was just a matter of time.  Imagine my fury at being taken and used for my blood by the man who’s supposed to be my biological father.  When Gideon helped me escape and told me he worked for you, it just seemed the logical next step to come meet you.  You’re in a position to help me, and I can certainly help you.  I thought our arrangement could be mutually beneficial.”

“Please, go on.” Arkdone’s fingers formed a perfect triangle beneath his chin as he leaned forward, listening to every word Meg said.

“I’m not a human and I wouldn’t fit into their world.  I’m not comfortable with the Winters.  They have this preconceived idea of who I am and how I should behave.  I’m just not that girl anymore.  And thanks to you, my face is now recognizable as a criminal—a terrorist?  I can’t live in the States without authorities eventually catching me, then where does that put me?  I’m right back where I was as a prisoner or a lab rat.”  Meg shook her head.

“The most logical path for me to take was right back to you.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.  Why have you agreed to come to me?”

“I am a very powerful empath.  I don’t remember life before you performed that ‘perfect concussion’ on me, but I’ve been told my abilities are much improved.  I’m able to control people with my thoughts—and not just one person at a time.  You saw what I can do.  In the short time I’ve been awake from
Williams’ coma I have seen how extremely remarkable my abilities are.  You need me.  Your motives are unclear to the Winter family, but I think I understand you.  I can help you meet and exceed your goals.  You want power?  Money?  Domination?  I can help make those things happen for you.”

“And in return for your ‘help’?”  Arkdone narrowed his eyes.

“In return I have three conditions you must agree to.”

The Senator nodded once and opened his hands to her.  “Tell me your three conditions.”

Meg tried to control her fidgeting by walking around the settee and sitting directly across from the Senator.  She leaned forward and looked him right in the black eyes as she spoke.

“First, I am not an assassin.  I will not kill for you.”  Meg’s face was deadly serious at her first request.

“Agreeable,” the Senator nodded.

“Second, you must have the charges against the Winter family lifted, clearing everyone’s name of any wrongdoing.”

Arkdone frowned, “That would be very difficult to do.”

“Maybe I haven’t made myself clear, Senator.  I will not negotiate on these three conditions.  They happen or I’m out.”  She locked her jaw to keep it from chattering.

“What is your last condition?” he asked as he leaned back into the corner of his sofa and casually placed his arm on the plush pillows there.

“Not only are their names cleared, but you must allow the Winter family to return to the States to live in uninterrupted peace.”

“If you want nothing to do with the Winter family, why are you so worried about what happens to them?”  Arkdone asked.

“They were an important part of my life—raised me, cared for me, protected me when I needed protecting.  I don’t remember these events, but my empath skills tell me they happened.  I want them taken care of—it’s my way of paying them back.  After these conditions are met, my conscience will feel cleared of the debt I owe them.”

“Is that all?” 

“Make those things happen immediately.  When I know they’re safely back in the States, my abilities will be at your disposal.”

Arkdone turned his head so he was staring deep in thought at the pendulum of a grandfather clock in the corner of the room.

“Why not just disappear, Meg?  Why come to me?”

“You were a powerful enemy.  I imagine you’ll be an even more powerful ally,” Meg answered simply.

“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

“You need proof.”  Meg nodded, as though expecting it to come to this.  She looked into her empty hands for a moment.

The doors to the room burst open and in flew Eloise, the housemaid.  In her hands she held a large butcher’s knife.  She ran right at the Senator, jumped up on the sofa and straddled his lap, the blade held in two hands high above her head.  She held stock still, except the gulps of air she was taking.

“You see, Senator,” Meg looked up and smiled sweetly.  “I may not be able to use my abilities on you with your psychic shield, but I can control everyone around you.”

The look on the Senator’s suddenly pale and pasty face was abject horror mixed with revelation. 

Eloise stayed on his lap; knife poised above him as though awaiting orders.

“If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it just now.  I believe in the powerful alliance
we will make, Senator.  Don’t you agree?”

Chapter 61  A Sterile Environment

Evan used his key to unlock the doors to the lab.  The sterile scent of the air that greeted him as he opened the door made him smile—but only a little.  This is what home smelled like to Evan.

His first step into the room triggered the motion sensor lights and by the count of three, the large space was illuminated brightly.  Evan walked directly into the wash area to scrub in.  He wasn’t the only person who used this facility, though he clocked the most hours by far.  The washroom was as neat as a pin because Evan insisted on it.  He had straightened the lax laboratory the first week he was there and everyone who knew him respected his level of professionalism, though they talked in hushed tones about the severe scarring on his left arm and hand.  They had no idea the extent of the scarring, nor were they aware that he had lost feeling in that hand. 

He tried to put it out of his mind, but he knew he would never be able to perform a surgery again.  The bitterness he felt because of that truth was enough to make him want to take a scalpel to his hand out of desperation to feel something there.  He thought about asking the hand surgeon at the hospital to help him.  Maybe it was possible to reconnect the nerves, lessening the severity of the damage, but he decided against it. 

What’s the use?
he thought. 

Besides, maybe the scars would be altered enough in the surgery that he wouldn’t be able to manipulate light waves as he could now.  In the end, Evan wasn’t willing to risk it. 

Walking to the lockers, he grabbed the knob on his combination lock and spun the dial automatically.  The silent room seemed to startle at the loud clatter of metal on metal when he yanked the lock out and opened the door. 

He slipped off his jacket and set his watch and keys on the hook.  Still deep in thought, he reached around to the linen shelves and grabbed a set of light green scrubs.  He stripped and dressed in the scrubs quickly in the cold space.   Hospitals were notoriously kept cold to discourage the spread of bacteria and germs, but Evan knew there was a deeper reason. 

They were cold because everything in a hospital was cold and logical.  Within these walls Evan was safe in his rational, predictable world.  In this world—he was in control.  At least, that’s how it usually felt.  Tonight was different.

Evan hung his clothing in the locker and slammed the door shut harder than he needed to.  He looked down at his left hand as he slipped booties over his shoes.  The glow had dissipated completely on the motorcycle ride to the hospital.  All he saw now was his scars staring blankly back at him.  His pinkie, ring and middle finger had their prints burned completely off.  

He stood at the white sink and sighed, waiting for the water to run hot enough to sanitize.   After a thorough scrubbing in the sink, Evan slipped into gloves, donned a cap and stepped on the sensor that opened the double doors into the sterile white lab.

He walked directly to the microscope to check his sample subjects.  Satisfied that everything was progressing nicely, he moved on to watch four white rats scamper around their cage, excitedly awaiting their usual treat.  Evan reached into the small refrigerator under the nearest counter and pulled out four red grapes. 

The rats were climbing on top of each other vying to get the first grape.  The one marked as “Specimen #2” got the first treat Evan slipped between the metal wires and happily started munching.  The red juice immediately started to stain the white fur around his pink mouth looking eerily like blood.  Evan’s smile at the creature’s excitement morphed into a scowl.  He tossed the last three grapes through the top and walked away. 

He had created a sort of workbench in the back corner of the lab where he spent half his time building.  The lack of feeling in his left hand had taken some getting used to, and it still bothered him more than he would ever say, but he pressed on.  His work had a time crunch and from his last check, he had even less time than previously thought.  Besides, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the charade. 

He leaned over his table, adjusted the sidelight and got right to work. 

By the time he looked up, sunlight was already streaming through one of the windows. Three hours had pas
sed.

Stretching, Evan tried to get his body and mind to stay sharp so he could keep working.  But in the end, he worried his fatigue might cause him to make a careless mistake.  His work was too important, too critical for mistakes. 

He stood stiffly and walked to a water cooler to fill a little paper cup and take a cooling sip.  Then he headed to one of the two unused offices adjacent to the lab where he flopped exhausted onto an uncomfortable black pleather sofa stored there.  

Later that day a university student had come into the lab to complete a project for a class when she was startled by the sounds of frantic screams coming from one of the offices.   Terrified, she ran out of the lab and called hospital police from the first phone she could find.

By the time they arrived to investigate, all they found was a completely melted water cooler. There was no water on the ground, no burn marks, no damage to anything else.  Hospital police agreed it was one of the strangest incidents they’d ever seen.  Rumors began to trickle across the campus. 

Not knowing where else to go, Evan wandered into the hospital’s chapel.  Just as he was about to enter the small, sad room he stopped to wonder if God would strike him dead as an abomination if he set foot on holy ground. 

By evening, rumors of the events in the lab spread to his own ears.  They were saying the lab was horribly burned and believed haunted.