“Don’t forget the washer.”
“Rafe, I will put a new friggin’ washer on it, okay?”
She heard his amused chuckle. He had fun pushing her buttons. With their agreement not to make love anymore, their playful banter had exponentially increased.
She made sure the drain pan was positioned properly, removed the drain plug, and used a shop rag to wipe the plug clean while the old oil drained. “See, I’m putting the new washer on.”
“Good. ’Bout time.”
When the oil finished draining, she replaced the drain plug, tightened it, and wiped the dripping oil from around the bottom of the oil pan. Pushing the drain pan to the side to catch the old filter, she grabbed the filter wrench and removed the old filter, managing to not make too much mess in the process.
“Don’t forget to oil the gasket on the new one.”
“For the last friggin’ time, Rafe, I have changed the oil in a car before. Lay off, all right?”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He chuckled.
“I’ll bunch your panties. If you had panties to bunch.”
“Promises, promises.”
She used a dab of clean oil to lube the gasket on the new filter and spun it on by hand, tightening it with the filter wrench.
“Did I forget anything, smart-ass? Or should I let you do this?”
“No, I think you got it all, baby girl.”
“Really? Because I wouldn’t want to forget and have you make me get back under here and—”
“Why would I make you get back under there?”
The sound of Tobias’ voice startled her. She sat up, nailing herself on the cross member.
“Ow! Son of a bitch!” She grabbed her forehead, seeing stars. Really seeing them. It wasn’t just a cartoon cliché.
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
Tobias knelt down and peeked under the car. “Taz, are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said to both men, the one in her brain and the one in the garage.
She wiggled out from under the car. Tobias took her arm, helping her to her feet, and examined the newly forming goose egg over her left eye.
“Let me look, dear,” he said, pulling her hand away. “You didn’t break the skin, but we should get some ice on it.”
“No, I’m okay.” Now that the pain was abating, she wondered how much he’d heard of her conversation with Rafe.
Tobias fixed his eyes on her. “Are you? Are you truly okay?”
“Please,” she whispered, “you can’t tell Matthias or the others.”
Tobias sighed. “I’ve suspected ever since the funeral. How long has he been with you?”
“The night he died. He threw himself at me when Caroline killed him. I didn’t realize he was there until Dame Agnew figured it out in London. I just thought I was going crazy, kept hearing his voice.” She grabbed his arm, desperate. “Please, you can’t tell them!”
“He’s obviously aware of what’s going on. He was the one who planned and was at the funeral, I suppose?”
She nodded. “And as you probably heard, he’s quite opinionated about his car.”
“Damn right. Don’t forget to put the oil in, either, Taz.”
“I need to finish this.” She grabbed a quart of oil.
“I think Matthias has a right to know,” Tobias said.
“He’ll want me to make him leave. I won’t do that.”
“You don’t know that.”
She glared at him. “He’ll be worried it’ll set me off again. I’m fine, really. I’m dealing with it.”
“Carrying Rafael around in your brain isn’t dealing, it’s existing. And it’s no way to live.” It certainly explained why she’d distanced herself emotionally from Matthias and everyone else immediately after their return from London.
She recapped the first empty bottle, then carefully upended another into the oil fill. “I’m not making him leave. End of subject.”
Tobias watched as she finished the job, used the jack to raise the car, and helped her remove the jack stands and drain pan. She dropped the car, checked the oil before starting it, let it run for a moment, shut it off, and checked the oil again.
She looked at him. “I’m not telling him. Not yet. Eventually, I will. Please, don’t say anything.”
He sensed her inner strength, her incredible will, and knew she was, in fact, okay. It wasn’t how he would deal with it. Then again, he wasn’t in her shoes. He nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
“You really need ice on that.”
“Tell him I say hi.”
She closed her eyes. “Rafe says hi.”
Tobias smiled. “Tell him hi back.”
“I can hear him.”
“He says he can hear you.”
Tobias laughed. “Rafael, I’ve heard of getting into a woman’s pants, but this is ridiculous, even for you.”
“Tell the old fart he can bite me.”
“I’m not telling him that!” Taz objected.
“Did he say ‘bite me?’”
She nodded, and Tobias laughed again. “That was always his standard answer.” He paused. “May I talk to him?”
She looked at Tobias and leaned against the fender. She closed her eyes for a moment. Tobias felt the change, just like at the hotel after the funeral, watched Taz shift her weight then open her eyes.
They were her green eyes, but it was Rafe’s stare and stance.
“Hiya, Uncle Toby.”
He shook his head, tears in his eyes. “Rafael. It is you.”
She—he—turned and finished putting away the tools. “Yeppers, that would be me.” He made sure to turn down the sound in the mental room so Taz couldn’t hear their conversation. She would respect his privacy.
“Why?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Try me.”
He shook his head. “Some things are left best unsaid.” He turned to his uncle. “You cannot tell Matts about this. Please.”
“Why are you doing this to her?”
“Look, it’s not exactly what I want, but she doesn’t want to tell Matts, and I respect that.”
“You’re ruining their relationship.”
“No, I’m not. Taz is trying to figure her life out. I’m not doing anything.”
“She’s in love with you, Rafael. She’s in love with a dead man trapped inside her head. How is that healthy for her? How does that help her and Matthias heal from all that’s happened?”
Rafael looked away, continued to wipe down the car. “It’s her decision.”
“It wasn’t her decision for you to set up a second life inside her brain.”
“No, and it wasn’t my decision to get killed, either.”
“That’s not Taz’s fault—”
“I know it, goddammit!” That was all Rafael’s rage, and he continued. “Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean to end up in here. I don’t want to hurt her or Matts or anyone. But I’m here, and I’ll respect her wishes. If she wants me to leave, she knows all she has to do is say the word and I’m gone. She can kill people, with her thoughts, Uncle Toby. You know that. Do you really think I could stay if she didn’t want me here?”
Tobias finally looked away. It was Taz’s voice, but the inflection and speech pattern was one hundred percent Rafael.
“All right. I won’t tell them.”
“Thank you.” Rafael closed the hood. “This isn’t a permanent solution. I know I can’t stay here forever.”
“Then for how long?”
“As long as Taz wants me.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Gerard studied the five men seated around the table. As his unblinking gaze fell on each, he waited until the man flinched before continuing to the next. He was under no illusions as to what they saw. He wanted them to fear him. Over the years he’d spread a variety of rumors about his abilities until no one for sure knew exactly what
he was capable of. As a result, myths had grown, blown horribly out of proportion.
Fine with him. It made his job easier.
“All right. I want our Pacific Northwest operation accelerated. Is the compound online yet?” He fixed his gaze on one of the men, already knowing the answer.
“Not yet, but our plans are six months ahead of schedule.”
Gerard waited to nod, and the man audibly sighed with relief when he did. “Good. As soon as it’s finished, I want the personnel moved out there that we’ve already selected. Including the girls.”
“Including the ones slated for the Brazil facility?”
He nodded. “The sooner they’re isolated, the better. Gentlemen, we are going to change the world. When we’re through, people will bow before us.” He walked over to the cabinet at the end of the room and pulled out the head, grabbing it by the hair and lobbing it onto the table where it landed with the dull, sickening splat of an overripe melon. None of the men dared moved, but they all flinched.
Gerard smiled. “Very good, gentlemen. I don’t expect you to agree with my choices, just do what I tell you when I tell you. Success will be rewarded.” He pointed to the head, which despite being refrigerated for several weeks was beginning to smell, and the skin had turned a sickly green color. “That man, obviously, wasn’t successful. Worse, he ran without orders to do so. His failure was to fail to ask for direction before retreating.” Gerard placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, exposing his vicious canines as he smiled. “I’m assuming I won’t have that problem with any of you?”
The men vigorously shook their heads.
“Excellent! Meeting adjourned, gentlemen. Same time, same channel.” He waved them away and they practically scampered out the door while he sat at the head of the table. The sound of retching reached his ears, and he laughed as his assistant entered the room, wearing gloves and carrying a garbage bag.
“How many?” Gerard asked.
“Two, sir.”
“They make the garbage cans?”
“I hope so.”
Gerard laughed. “I should give employee motivation seminars, Rogers.”
Rogers wanly smiled as he dropped the head into the garbage bag and tied it shut. “Standard procedure?”
Gerard leaned back and templed his large, rough hands. “Sure. Send it to…” He snapped his fingers. “Help me out, that guy in Philly who said he wanted out because his wife was pregnant. The software programmer?”
“Dale Arkins?”
“Yeah, him. Send it to him, with a little personalized note that we don’t appreciate him attempting to breach his employment agreement before the renewal date.”
“Will do, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
One afternoon, before Matthias returned home, Taz confronted Rafe inside his room. There was a matter she wanted settled.
“What’s the deal with you and Albert?”
Rafe looked away, refused to meet her eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”
“That’s what he said, and it’s still bullshit. I think I have a right to know.” She wouldn’t force him to tell her and he knew it.
He shook his head. “It’s between the two of us. Was, I guess. And it doesn’t matter.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“Nope.” He looked at her. “We all have our secrets, Taz. When I died, this ‘difference of opinion’ as he called it died, too, so it doesn’t matter.”
* * * *
Rafe didn’t like keeping secrets from Taz. If she chose to walk through his mind, he had no way of stopping her. It was only her self-imposed limits, a result of her guilt, that kept her out of his deeper, private thoughts. Between her barrier and his, Matthias—his conscious mind—had no idea he was there or what happened.
But what about Matthias’ deeper presence?
Rafe didn’t know what was going on and couldn’t explore for fear of either Taz or Matts knowing what he was doing. During the shitstorm at Yellowstone, he was too preoccupied trying to get Matts’ attention and stop Taz to figure out what happened. Something was different. He couldn’t put his disembodied finger on what that something was, but Matts was different now, fundamentally changed in a very huge way, even though it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.
* * * *
Taz was sitting in the backyard, her back propped against an old live oak. Backyard being a misnomer, because the compound was comprised of over two hundred acres. She was over a hundred yards from the house, and anyone who looked out a window would think she was dozing, her eyes closed.
Since she wasn’t getting the answers she wanted from him about Albert, she changed the subject. “How much can I do, Rafe?” she quietly asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, babe.”
“You’ve been in my mind. You knew I could carry out the executions. You were supposed to help me train. What else can I do?”
“That was a fluke, Taz. It was from a memory I found. I don’t know what you can do now. I wasn’t sure you could do that.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Rafe.”
He smiled, and it damn near broke her heart how handsome he looked. “Yeah, Dame A tells me the same thing.”
“I need help learning these freaking powers.”
He studied his hands. Hands that even in her mind were capable of bringing her to exquisite heights of passion. “Let Uncle Toby help you. And you and Matts need to sit down and have this discussion. You need to let him in and let him wander around.”
“But—”
“He won’t find me, Taz. I told you, he’ll think I’m a memory. I won’t let him find me, not until you’re ready to tell him.” He met her eyes again. “You’ve got to tell him, eventually.”
“What if he doesn’t want me after I tell him?”
“Taz baby, he loves you. He knew you were going out with other guys, most likely sleeping with them, before he got to be with you.”
“Yeah, but now I’m engaged to him. He’s going to hate me.”
“He didn’t hate you after the succubus gig, baby girl. He’s not going to hate you for this, either. Besides, you don’t have to tell him everything, you know. You can leave that part out.”
The couch appeared, and she sat, looking at him. He sighed and motioned for her to scoot over, and she rested her head in his lap as she curled against him. He stroked her shoulder, glad in this case that he didn’t have a physical body to restrain. He felt desire, yes, but could slake it in the deep recesses of her mind, with her untapped memories of life as Cassandra.
“He won’t hate you, Taz. Open up, let him in.”
“I’m scared.”
“You won’t hurt him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You haven’t hurt me, and I’ve pretty much got carte blanche in here, baby girl.”
She mulled that one over. “I can’t take that chance, can I?”
He wanted to nudge her without speaking his suspicions. She would automatically blame herself, again, and it couldn’t do her any good. “He wants you to have free access to him. Take it, give it. You guys have a great thing going.”
She closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I’m still sure I’m going to wake up and all this was a nightmare.”
“No Dallas ending for you, baby. I’m not popping out of your shower.”
Taz laughed. “Talk about a love triangle from hell.”
He stroked her hair, hiding his thoughts from her. “Yeah, you can say that again.” And again. “Promise me you’ll talk to the big guy and try to hammer this out. Let him in. Don’t be afraid you’ll hurt him. He can help you a lot more than I can.”
“He’s not inside my brain.”
“He could be, if you let him in. Just trust him. Trust yourself.”
“He won’t trust me once he finds out about you, will he?”
Rafe didn’t have an answer.
They talked a little longer before he patted h
er on the arm. “It’s almost dinnertime. Tim’ll be looking for you. Better get back to the house.”
She opened her eyes and stared at a small cluster of key lime trees at the edge of the garden. Having her relationship with Matthias back on track had helped a lot. Once she knew about Rafael in her brain, it helped her deal with and stop the skin-crawling sensation. She still occasionally dealt with surprising bouts of rage. Where these came from, she didn’t know. She never directed them at anyone, and they always passed within seconds.
She felt one now and looked at the key lime trees, which were covered with unripe fruit, while waiting for it to pass. The rage flared, bloomed, and immediately disappeared. Taking a deep, relieved breath, she stood and walked to the house. Fortunately these rages happened infrequently, and more time passed between each one. She figured it must be a residual effect of her powers growing and settling in.
* * * *
Taz didn’t see the dozen or so shriveled and blackened limes that suddenly dropped to the ground from the tree.
* * * *
Taz would never claim the situation was normal, but after a couple of months of living with Rafe in her brain she reached a state of normalcy she hadn’t felt since Yellowstone. She still felt guilty, not just because of her discontinued affair with Rafe, but because now she felt like she was cheating on him with Matthias despite Rafe’s declarations.
It was madness.
But it was her life.
Albert and her dad consulted with her on the wedding, and she basically told them to plan it however they wanted. Her only stipulations were that she got to pick her dress, it would be held at the house, and she had final say on the tuxes. As for the rest, they could do what they wanted. They assumed it was because she was so busy at work and working with Matthias trying to learn more about her powers. The truth was it didn’t matter to her. All she wanted was to say “I do” and become Matthias’ wife. Life was too short to stress over the rest. If it wasn’t for the fact that all three men’s faces fell, Albert’s, Matthias, and her dad’s, when she suggested just doing it during lunch at the county courthouse, she would be happy to elope.