She tasted like the jasmine he'd smelled but the pine was stirringly absent. Oh well. He dropped her and she hit the ground, her heart stopped, and her brain no longer transmitted signals. He hoped whatever religious deity she believed in didn't forsake her. It wasn't his problem whether she'd been a good person or a bad one, whether or not she'd been forgiven before she died. She was done. She'd been his dinner.
It was noble.
Somehow.
He looked down at the floor as he decided on a plan for disposing of the shell. To her left stood a bottle of pine scented cleaning product. A-ha. The pine needles scent. The cleaning products. It made sense.
The stirring of a slight wind in the room brought a tingle to the back of his mind that spoke of home. He shook his head. Sister. His sister was here. He flung around and there she was. Shocked, he didn't respond to her presence right away. She looked good. But then she'd always had a way of finding the best shells in the dimensions she occupied.
What was she doing here? This place was his. He'd been summoned by the Outsiders, he'd defeated them, been born into a human body, and been working his plan ever since.
She smirked and walked forward. "Quite the little set up you have here brother. It's comfy-cozy." She looked around with a dismissive air to her eyes. "I can see why this whole thing is taking so long. You're too comfortable here."
He tried to keep his expression bored. One hint of aggravation would lead to an all out war between the two of them. That would get in the way of all of the lovely souls on the planet being enslaved to him and ultimately devoured for his amusement and nourishment.
"This isn't taking longer than I predicted. When the pesky Outsiders first summoned me here, I told all of you it was a thirty to forty year job. You can't get any more productive than me. I had killed off all but a portion of the Outsiders before I had lived a year in this body."
She nodded and stepped forward. "That is true. It was quite impressive. But the last twenty-eight years have been an utter disaster."
"They vanished." Sebastian took a deep breath and tried not to push fire through his eyes. "Abraxas sent the children off into the open and the only three who even knew they were Outsiders vanished with Veli Destrand, who is dead, I might add, thanks to me."
"I wasn't here one day when I found my own Outsider. I have him captured."
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. She had what? "Who do you have?"
"Who cares what its human name is? Jason something, um, Jason Randall. He's a body-controller."
Tucking his hands behind his neck, he tried to hide his excitement but feared she could hear his pulse rate rise. "You have a body controller? He can actually manipulate and control others from the inside, out?" He turned his back on his sister and walked to the bed. Turning around, he smiled. "Give him to me." He could use that right now.
"No, he's mine. Put the idea out of your head, unless you're going to give me your two Outsiders."
Now she'd made him mad. Feeling the flames, he knew his eyes glowed red and he didn't try to stop them. "What are you even doing here?"
"I've decided this dimension was deserving of a little competition, and I'm tired of watching you bumble around, so I've decided to come in and take over. I'm going to control this dimension and you can just leave it."
If he could, he'd blow her up right now. But then he would have, as the humans said, let the cat out of the bag. "If you want to compete, Sister, I'm always up for it." It had been a while since they'd had a really good smack-down, break-everything-around-them, kill-the-competition match of powers.
"Good. Then we agree whichever one of us captures and kills the most Outsiders wins. We'll fry them all up at the end as food."
That worked for him. Especially because she didn't know anything about the island where the four, now five, Outsiders lived. He knew where it was. Not to mention he had Alexa, and hell, Gabriel, if he was desperate.
"I'm winning. I have two. You have one."
"For now. It's only a matter of time. I am, after all, twice the evil being you are."
They would see about that. He'd spent too much time planning to have sister's presence make him fail. Everything would fall into place and he'd eliminate his sister in the process. His day couldn't have gotten better.
* * * *
Floating, which was an all together new sensation for him, outside of his old bedroom window; Gabriel could hardly believe his eyes. He'd know Sebastian was very bad. What he had done to that poor girl and now this new bit with his 'sister' put him in a whole new category.
There were many questions that needed answers and he wished beyond anything that he could just rip Alexa out of there. But he'd have to bide his time. If he wasn't careful, they'd both be dead, and then Sebastian would be left to do whatever horrible thing he had planned.
No, he'd have to be patient.
And find out exactly what it meant to be an Outsider because despite what Sebastian thought, he did not have him. And soon he wouldn't have Alexa. He had not saved her over and over again when they were children to lose her to this.
The girl was his sister, blood or no blood. He wouldn't leave her to this monster.
Now that he'd learned he could float, he'd have to find out what other little tricks he had up his sleeve. Maybe he too could blow up a person from the inside out. Or perhaps he just needed to find this Jason person and release him from his prison.
Chapter Four
If she ever had to be hospitalized for a mental illness, and truthfully, she might not be too far removed from it these days, Charma decided she'd like it to be at this place. The internet site she'd perused before leaving home had said when a patient or a visitor made it past the front gate they would see that Shadow Pines sat on sixty-five acres of green sculpted landscape sporting everything from landscaped rest areas to exercise paths.
The outside of the building was constructed with curb appeal in mind. The tan and grey bricks, which came together at the top of the building ending in a large pointed roof reminded Charma of an English manor.
The whole facility felt more like a country club than a medical facility.
"Name."
The guard, who she would guess to be about fifty-years old with grey hair and a potbelly, stuck his head out the glass window of his booth to stare at them. Charma closed her eyes and searched his soul. He'd been divorced for five years, and never saw his kids. They'd rather be with their stepfather who was some sort of extreme sports athlete. His nights were spent in front of the television eating as he contemplated his existence and every once in a while thought about ending it. And his name… was…
She needed his name, so she dug deeper.
Frank, he went by the name Frank, which was technically his middle name but that didn't matter. Now that she knew what he called himself, she could gain control.
By reflex, she reached out with her mind and took some of his pain into her. He would sleep better tonight. Shoulders suddenly heavier, Charma tried not to stoop over in her seat. Marina turned her head to glare as if she sensed what Charma had just done.
"Go on through, ladies."
What? Charma glanced at Marina who shrugged with a smirk on her face.
"Thank you, sir." Marina smiled sweetly and pulled the car through the gate.
"Did you spell cast him?" Charma didn't know why she was offended for the poor man. She'd invaded his head too. Somehow it felt worse that Marina had confounded his mind, convinced him of something that wasn't the truth, and made him disobey rules that he could get in trouble for later.
"Don't sound so high and mighty. I knew you were in there, too." Marina shrugged. "You were taking away his pain, weren't you? It never occurred to you to save your strength for inside the building. That we might need you to be in full form once we locate the Outsiders?"
Charma groaned. She couldn't help it. Marina's small understanding of Charma's powers was enough to drive her crazy. "I'm not like a cell phone. I don't have to be recharg
ed. Asking me to leave him like that is like asking me not to breathe. I'm not capable of it."
"Someday you're going to get caught or you're going to do that and draw attention to yourself from the wrong evil deity. Find a way to control it." Marina shook her head.
Charma closed her eyes. Coming here with Marina had been a big mistake. They should have waited for Leonardo. He would have known how to handle this, and he wouldn't have blamed her for doing what came naturally.
Marina pulled the car into the closest empty space and they both stepped out into the parking lot. Instantly, Charma wished she'd worn less clothing, but who could have predicted New Jersey would be having a heat wave of above ninety-degree days in April? The weather report, obviously. She hadn't bothered to look at it before jumping in the car to come down here.
"Are you going to spell cast us all the way inside? Maybe it's you who should be preserving her strength."
Marina smirked. "Touché." The other woman giggled at the thought, and Charma couldn't help but smile. That would be gone if Leonardo were here. They'd probably be breaking into the place in the middle of the night and no one would be laughing.
After signing in at the front desk and watching in amazement as the receptionist not only nodded as if they belonged there but offered them coffee, they were allowed to walk through the lobby towards the elevators.
"Who exactly are you convincing them we really are?" Charma hoped she kept her voice low enough that no one could hear.
Why aren't you speaking to me telepathically?
Why wasn't she? Lately Charma hadn't felt like communicating that way. She had watched Kal and Isabelle stare at each other from across the room and knew they were talking so only the other could hear. She wasn't jealous, not really. But she couldn't get over the fact that the telepathic communication seemed to be designed for just that purpose. So soul mates could speak privately. Sure, it was useful during battle for the group to use the skill so their enemies couldn't hear, but the truth was it was a private thing and doing it just to do it felt wrong.
Especially since her soul mate was dead. Knowing she'd never get to try telepathy with him made her not want to do it at all.
She sighed. Now was one of those times when it would be useful to be unheard by the general population.
You're right. We should be talking like this. Even though it made her want to vomit. So, answer my question. What are you making them think we are doing here? Charma wanted to be in on the scheme just in case she needed to play along.
We're health care professionals here to consult on several cases. I told you this outside.
Had she? Wow. Charma had already forgotten. Where had her brain wondered off to? It seemed to be happening more often.
Marina wasn't done talking. My internal radar is going crazy. I'm getting two points of origin.
What does that mean?
Two Outsiders in this building.
Two Outsiders locked up in here at the same time. What were the chances? Maybe they were soul mates who'd been sent here together.
Here's what we're going to do. Marina's take-charge voice saturated the telepathic link. I'm going to bring you to the first feeling I'm getting. We'll check that out together. Then, I'll leave you to do whatever it is that you do with sick people, and I'll go see who the other one is.
Charma nodded. It made sense. Maybe one of them needed less help than the other. They would divide and conquer.
The elevator dinged and Charma made a mental note that they were on the fourth floor. The hallway was quiet and dimly lit. The walls were dotted with smiling pictures of men and women sitting on beaches and in parks. The lights above her hissed in the way fluorescents do when they're being kept at half power. Eventually, it would give her a migraine if she didn't get out of there fast enough.
She cleared her throat and motioned towards the secretary at the desk who watched them with one eyebrow raised. Marina stepped forward and after a moment, the woman signaled for them to continue down the hall. Charma looked up, searching for video cameras and was relieved when she didn't see any. Evidently, there wasn't a whole lot of crime going on inside of the building.
As they passed the grey-haired secretary, through the double doors that led down the hall, Charma couldn't help but let herself glance into the woman's mind for a moment. She was pretty happy. Married for twenty-five years to her high school sweetheart, her biggest concern was her daughter's pregnancy. It was high risk and she worried about it often. Charma soothed her gently and hoped all would be well.
By the time the doors closed behind them, the woman was feeling better and Charma had left her mind. The hallway smelled like antiseptic and lemon-scented air freshener. The result made Charma want to gag.
"Well?" Charma looked at Marina who stood with her eyes closed. Two nurses wandered the hallway but didn't look up to acknowledge their presence.
Marina shook her head. "I'm determining which room he is in. Just a moment. The nurses can't see us at all. I've made us invisible."
Invisible? "Exactly how powerful are you now, Marina?"
Eyes still closed, she laughed. "Pretty damn powerful."
That's what she'd deduced for herself. She didn't feel any different being invisible. Feeling silly, she stuck her tongue out at the nurse closest to her who whistled while she sorted papers. Nothing. Not even a hint she knew the women were there.
This ability would no doubt be very useful for the Outsiders in the future. Charma imagined Leonardo and Kal would be thrilled. Of course that meant they'd have to bring Marina with them on their adventures.
Marina's eyes flung open. "Second room on the left. I had a hard time pinpointing him once we got here. The other is strange." Marina looked down the hall. "Go check him out. I'm going up to floor six. You two come and find me, or I'll grab whoever is on floor six and bring them down to you."
"Someone else is on the sixth floor?"
Marina nodded. "Evidently."
The whole thing felt wrong to Charma, too set up. However, she wasn't going to argue with Marina since this was more her area of expertise.
Eyes twinkling like she played at a game she knew she would win; Marina turned and walked back to the elevators. She swung around once more. "Oh, and Charma, the nurses won't be coming in that room while you're there, so don't worry. Just get our comrade healed from this coma and we'll bring him home."
Charma strode quickly into the room. She suspected it would not be as simple as Marina made it out to be, but that made an even better reason to get started. The nurses wouldn't be coming in which made Charma very nervous. What if he needed medical attention? She could only heal the soul, not the physically ill. She shook her head. There was no time to dwell on that.
The room was pleasant enough. Yellow paint on the wall and a mirror over a television set that was, for the moment, turned off. The windows were big and open to let some fresh air breeze through the room. A machine monitoring god-knew-what beeped from the corner of the room nearest the bed.
All of that barely registered with her because Charma couldn't make out anything other than the man who lay unmoving on the bed. Her heart pounded, and her head throbbed.
Blond haired, he had a long, unshaven face. She knew that face. She would know it anywhere. Long cheekbones, they'd been that way even when he was a child of twelve. He had the long eyelashes, darker than his platinum-blond hair. His eyes were closed as if in slumber. But she knew what lay beneath those closed lids. Blue eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless spring day in Maine. The kind of day she longed for all year long—in the same way she'd longed to see those eyes again in her dreams as she had during childhood.
This was all impossible. Perhaps this was some sort of hallucination? Maybe whatever made him comatose was catching?
No, she was not nuts. He was here. The nameless man—she'd never learned his name—who had been made for her, chosen for her in heaven was in this room.
And, she had felt him die. Felt it the
night he hadn't come to their secret garden. It had been like someone had taken a sledge hammer and demolished half of her body and soul with one hit. She'd known he was dead.
Alone. That was how she'd felt. With other people's problems filling her days, nights, and dreams.
Until now.
Had he been this way since he'd disappeared when he was twelve? Charma's eyes roamed his body for signs. Impossible. He looked too healthy. Muscle tone defined his body. He didn't look like a man who had been endlessly asleep on a bed. His eyes fluttered as if he was in deep REM sleep.
She cleared her throat, afraid to wake him but wanting to at the same time. "Hello."
Nothing. Charma's cheeks warmed. Why had she assumed he'd respond to her? He was in a coma for goodness sake. She was going to have to do more than speak aloud to get his attention.
She focused all of her attention on the unconscious man she'd been waiting to see for sixteen years, Charma knew she needed to enter his mind, heal his thoughts—if she could even do that—and bring him back to consciousness so they could all escape together. As a child, she'd shared her deepest secrets with him.
As an adult, she understood that he was supposed to be her soul mate. Never meant to be apart from one another, their minds had found a way to connect even over great distances, since as children they were unable to do anything about their circumstances.
He'd thought she was a dream—pretend, he used to call her. And now she was going to bust into the inner most sanctum of his thoughts and demand he accept her as real. What if he had retreated inside of himself because it was the only safe place for him to go? Did she have the right to simply decide it was time for him to resurface?
A sudden thought hit Charma and made her stomach turn over. A sour taste entered her mouth. What if he'd done this over the death or loss of a woman he loved?