Eyes to the Soul (21 page)

Silence.

“So the real question is…” Stefan paused then added, “What answer are you too scared to give?”

*

Brandt walked into
the cabin and called out, “Sam?”

No answer. He walked back outside and along the long deck. He had a few more case files to show her, hoping that something might trigger more flashes. He hated to do it to her because he knew these odd visions were causing her major trauma. If he could solve the problem and let her get some much-needed rest, then he’d do anything he could. He’d worked hard to put some extra flesh on her tiny frame and had watched in disbelief as it had all disappeared over these last weeks.

She shouldn’t be getting these visions. They couldn’t be connected to a single murderer. Most were surgical failures or accidents. But she’d insisted that they were both – connected and victims of a single murderer.

She hadn’t been wrong as long as he’d known her, so he had to trust that she was right in this instance.

Not finding her inside the small cabin they both called home, he walked down toward the dock and whistled for Soldier. The dog barked twice from the right. He traipsed through the small brush to find Sam curled up on a large rock under the waning heat of the sun.

Asleep.

Soldier and Moses were standing guard, one on either side.

His heart, a mushy part of him when it came to Sam, melted. He crouched beside her, debating whether he should wake her up or join the guards.

She murmured restlessly as he watched. He leaned closer, head tilted, wondering if she was trying to say something. After a moment he sat back on his heels and studied her. She didn’t appear to be sleeping easy. Her breathing was shallow and the tiniest of frowns marred her beautiful face.

He reached out to cover her hand with his when she bolted upright, her face to the sky and her eyes – blind.

Then she screamed.

*

Joey Brown walked
toward the diner. He couldn’t wait for his meal. The diner made the best liver and onions he’d ever tasted. Considering he’d hated the stuff until a few months ago, he couldn’t believe he was anticipating this meal. Before his breakup he’d never touched a lot of things that he really loved now. Green apples, sweet potatoes, garlic, and liver were just a few of them.

His buddy Steven joked that he was tossing off the old favorites and trying on new ones – the same as he was doing with the women in his life.

Steven could joke. The guy was tall, muscled, and still had hair. Joey had a bigger beer gut than his butt, and the only hair left on his body was everywhere but on his head. His chances of finding another girlfriend right now were not great.

And maybe he was okay with that. Lorelei had been a crappy cook. If she’d been better he wouldn’t have had a beer or two with every meal to wash the food down. It’s not like he could suggest she take lessons or anything. She’d have hit him over the head with her frying pan if he had.

She might suck at meals, but she’d been the damn best baker he’d ever been lucky enough to hook up with. And so typical of women she’d bake a double batch of chocolate chip cookies, have one and then say she was too fat and he should eat them up to save her waistline. Then she’d want to bake again and would hassle him to keep eating the damn cookies because she wanted to try out some new cheesecake recipes.

And all that obliging had obligingly stuck around his waistline. But she’d stayed trim and he grumbled.

Now he was a fat ass, single, and heading to meet Steven and his latest girlfriend at the diner for liver and onions.

Who knew?

He rubbed his beer gut, wishing the damn burning would die down. It had been just bugging him enough that he was getting right pissed off. So pissed off that he was starting to get angry at everything. Damn Lorelei. She didn’t have to leave him. They could have worked things out.

Hell, he deserved a chance just like every other guy. Fucking bitch. They were all bitches. Every last one of them. The burning in his gut heated up. He glared around at the busy street and the milling crowds. Everyone was partnered up. The whole world lived as a damn couple.

Well, he used to belong. But not any longer.

God damn it.

Now the rage bit in deep, bringing up old hurts and resentments, like his ex-wife who’d taken off with his kids. And his two daughters who couldn’t be bothered to answer a damn email. Then there was his hag of a mother. The rage grew and grew. He could barely walk for the tension knotting his muscles. He cast his gaze around, looking at the large group of giggling women waiting for the street light to turn so they could cross the road.

All dressed up in heels, ready to lure the gullible males.

Well, maybe it was time for the tables to be turned on those unsuspecting women.

He passed the grocer who was outside moving out new carrots onto one of the heavily laden tables under the awning, a big knife in his hand. And Joey smiled.

Perfect. The grocer turned to help an older female customer at his side. He placed the knife down. Joey sidled over, picked it up, and slid it along one leg and carried on. The clouds moved in front of the sun just then, lending a dark, malevolent energy to the scene. Perfect.

He reached the unsuspecting group in less than thirty seconds.

Then the screams erupted.

T
he inside of
the car was excruciatingly loud in its silence.

After Stefan’s question, she’d professed to know nothing and had asked for a cab to be called so she could go home. There’d been a slightly uncomfortable pause, then Stefan had insisted on driving her home as he was leaving anyway.

It would have been churlish to refuse – even though she’d wanted to. But he’d led her down to his car and they’d been driving ever since.

He pulled the vehicle over and turned off the engine. She opened the door and brought out her stick. As she exited the car she said, “Thank you.”

But he wasn’t listening. She heard his door open and close and his footsteps as he strode to her side. Of course he was going to be the gallant kind of male.

“I don’t need your help,” she said brusquely. “I can manage just fine.”

“Of course you can. But you don’t have to.”

And damn if he didn’t pick up her hand again and place it on his arm as he had before. She wanted to snap at him for touching her, and at the same time wanted to ask him to hold her close and fix whatever the hell was wrong. But he couldn’t do that. Apparently she was the one that had to. And how that was supposed to happen, she didn’t know.

She kept up her silence until they reached her door. Belatedly she realized he’d already been here.

She unlocked the door and turned to keep him out.

“Let me in,” he said quietly.

“Why?” She tilted her head, listening for lies and deception. Something she could use against this man who saw too much, knew too much, and could come to mean too much.

“We need to talk.”

She gave an indelicate snort. “More talking? I’m pretty well talked out.”

“Not about this.” He waited, the smooth chocolate voice deepening as he added, “I can help.”

A broken sob escaped. She bit the second one back before it could follow. The dam was close to breaking.

And he seemed to know it.

“Let me in,” he repeated, his voice gentle yet implacable.

“Why?”

“Because you want to.”

She didn’t have an answer for that. She was afraid he was right. And if he could see her energy and read it – maybe it told the truth. She stepped back from the door and made her way to her kitchen table. There she put her purse down against the wall and draped her coat over the back of the chair. “Do you want tea?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

She busied herself with making the simple pot of green tea and brought the special dragon pot and matching cups to the table. That she managed the simple task swiftly and easily without spilling anything said much for the amount of practice she’d put into this pastime.

She pulled out her chair and sat down. Realizing he still stood like a guard dog watching her, she motioned to the chair in front of him. “Please sit.”

The chair scraped backwards then creaked as he dropped his weight into it.

“Now tell me, what do we have to talk about?”

“Many things, but the important one is why you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you. I can’t help until I know what the problem is.” And as he spoke, colors rippled and played throughout the room, around him. So bright. So brilliant. They twisted and turned and expanded with his tone of voice.

She couldn’t help herself – she reached out and grabbed one of the colors. Her hand went right through it. Of course it did. It wasn’t like the colors were solid. They were only energy, after all.

And she froze.
They were only energy, after all.
How true, and it matched everything that Dr. Maddy had said to her. So it was all just energy.

“Is everything energy? You, me, the ghosts?”

“Yes. And because everything is made of the same things, certain rules apply to everyone and everything. So if someone is bothering you, human or ghost, then there are restrictions holding them back too.”

She stared toward him, her voice quiet as she asked, “Are you sure?”

He leaned forward, his hand reaching out to wrap around her tightly clenched fists. “Absolutely.” He squeezed her hands and murmured, “Tell me.”

She winced, but her gaze once again caught on his hands, the colors wrapping and weaving with her own.

Her own as she’d never seen them before. She wanted to ask him about the colors. Ask him if he was doing it on purpose. They were so much brighter than she’d seen before. If she could only see hers because of him. If such a thing was possible. She didn’t think he could be doing that, but he’d said he worked energy so maybe that was a big part of it. She wanted him to be doing it. In her black world, she was desperate to see anything – and colors were extra special.

Fascinated, she watched the colors move and shift with the energy. She just didn’t know what the energy was that formed it or what the energy wanted to do now that it was out and moving around. She realized his energy was retreating slightly, snugging up tightly against his hands. She wanted to shout
stop
so the energy would continue to play around her hand, but realized it went with his mood. As did hers, and hers was running back up her arms. Fascinating.

“Celina.”

She nodded, opened her mouth, and explained. “About a year ago I had a horrible multi-vehicle accident with a couple of friends from the orchestra. There were several fatalities. My friends had only minor injuries but my injuries were more severe. I had a head injury, the same that injured my eyes. I had eye surgery to repair an optic nerve and within weeks of waking up afterwards – it’s like I’ve been haunted. I don’t know who this person is or why he’s attached to me. But he says he can do horrible things. And he always tells me to show him. To open my eyes so he can see.”

A shuddering breath escaped. “And I always refuse.”