Twisted Miracles (26 page)

“I’m Cass,” I said, moving to stand beside Lionel. “I helped get you out of the church.”

“What church? Where am I? What the fuck is going on?” In her head, she was replaying a handful of images from the cell we’d found her in. All of them were laced with terror. Shane came up behind me and the girl brandished the candlestick a little higher. “Who the fuck is that?”

“Whoa,” he said putting his hands up.

“She’s a little disoriented,” I said. “
What about Geary?
”

“
I
knocked him out with a dictionary.
”

“
Shane!
”

“
Oh
,
whatever.
Who cares?
”

I realized I couldn’t disagree with him. I turned my attention back to the girl.

“Please,” Lionel was saying, inching closer. “You must be famished. Come and have something to eat.”

“Something to eat?” I could tell this was the first thing that had really gotten through to her. She must be half-starving. The candlestick lowered a little. “Who took off my clothes?”

“I did,” I said, taking a step into the room. “They were kind of disgusting.”

“Yeah, I bet.” She actually laughed. “Thanks.”

I took another step, but she noticed and backed farther away along the wall. I stopped moving. “Look, we’re all gonna go downstairs and make some breakfast. There’s some shower stuff in the bathroom.” I nodded toward the door. “You come down when you’re ready. Okay?”

She focused on me, and I felt her calm down. “Okay,” she said, but she didn’t drop the candlestick.

“
Good
,
Cass.
That was good
,” Lionel said, and I could feel his relief. The three of us backed away, giving her space, and went down to the kitchen.

It only took her fifteen minutes to follow us. By that time, Lionel had set out a fried egg, bacon and a glass of orange juice, and made hot chocolate for good measure. The girl walked into the kitchen slowly. She was still holding the candlestick, but when she saw the food, she couldn’t help herself any longer. She fell on the plate like a stray dog on kitchen scraps.

When she was done, she drained the glass of orange juice, and Lionel instantly poured her another. She got halfway through it, set it down, licked her lips, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“All right. Who the fuck are you people?”

Shane and I looked at each other.

“I’m Cass,” I said. “And that’s Shane, Lionel and Bruce.” Bruce gave a little wave from his perch by the sink. The girl waved back, looking incredulous. “We found you tied up in a closet in a church south of the city. Someone kidnapped you.”

“Yeah, no shit.” She took another sip of orange juice. “What am I doing here? Why won’t you take me to the police?”

“We’ll explain everything,” I said. “I promise. But first we really need to know how you ended up in that room.”

Lionel set down a mug of hot chocolate in front of her.

She looked at Lionel, then at the mug. She took a gulp. She gave everyone in the room another once-over. “I guess I don’t have much choice,” she said, and she started talking.

Her name was Annabeth Delaney, and she was a med student at LSU New Orleans. The last thing she remembered was passing out in the dark cell, and she had no idea how long she’d been there. When we told her what day it was, she figured she’d been down there a week.

“I met this guy at the Crimson Door, and he asked if I wanted to go to this diner down the block, and I was sort of having a bad night, and he was really good-looking...” She looked down at her hands. “So stupid.” She shook her head and continued. “I followed him out of the club, and we were walking down Cedar Street. It was dark, and there was no one else around. He must have...hit me on the head or something. Next thing I know, I’m in that...that
place
, and I can’t...” She stopped herself. “I can’t remember what happened.”

I stared at her. She’d been about to say, “I can’t use my powers.” I’d heard it right there on the top of her head.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you a converter?”

She looked at me, eyes wide. “Yeah. You guys...?”

We all nodded except Bruce, who shrugged and sipped his hot chocolate.

“What the fuck is this? What was that place, really?”

I told her what we suspected about the church, about how we thought someone was pulling energy from her to perform miracles.

“Oh, God,” she said. “It makes sense. I mean, the second day I was there, I’m pretty sure I blacked out for a few minutes. And I kept having these dizzy spells...”

“That was him,” I said. “Pulling.”

“Fuck. Are they...are they going to come back?”

“We don’t know.” Shane and I exchanged a look. “They might.”

“
Should we tell her?
” I asked.

“
Don’t want to freak her out
,” Shane said.

“Hey!” She was watching our exchange. “Tell me!”

I held up my hands. “It’s true. We don’t know for sure.”

“The same thing happened to my sister. She saw him dumping a body, and he attacked her. That’s how we knew about this guy.” Shane paused before going on. “Another one of our community was found dead earlier this month. We think it was him.”

“Fuck me,” Annabeth said. “I guess you guys saved my life.”

“Look,” I said, “do you mind if we see your memory of the guy you left the bar with? If we recognize him, it’ll make it a lot easier to find him.”

Annabeth shrugged. “If you think it’ll help.”

She spread her hand out flat on the table, and Shane, Lionel and I laid our palms over her fingers. They were still chilled. Annabeth shook her head. “It’s so weird, not being able to hear anyone.” She said it almost to herself. “Well, have a look.”

She was focusing on the club. I could feel the heat, smell the alcohol and sweat. A few yards away on a sunken dance floor, people were dancing fast and close. Annabeth was watching one couple in particular, a broad-chested guy in a pale blue polo, grinding on a trim, pretty brunette in a blue halter top. Her memory was spiked with jealousy, and I knew she’d caught him cheating. Her memory replayed the night she’d figured it out. He was a normal. He hadn’t known she could see his memory of screwing his lab partner in a hotel bathroom on spring break. Annabeth was having trouble letting it go. I gave her a gentle nudge.

“Right. Sorry.” Her thoughts skipped back to the bar and her empty rum and Coke. She was pushing her glass back and forth on the dirty bar in front of her. Then a sun-brown forearm was next to her, sliding her another drink.

“You want some company?” The man’s voice was familiar. I couldn’t quite place it. I glanced at Shane, and his brow was furrowed. I tuned back into Annabeth’s memory as she looked up into the face of her attacker, and I gasped. It was Ryan.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Holy shit!” I stood up so fast I knocked my chair back. Shane was already on his feet, and Lionel’s jaw dropped.

“What? What is it? Jesus!” Annabeth panicked and backed instinctively toward the door. She raised the candlestick again. “Somebody tell me what the fuck’s going on.”

“It’s okay.” I didn’t doubt she could feel the disbelief and shock in the room, even if she had lost her powers. “He’s the one, the guy who gave you the drink?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“
Can’t be
,” Lionel said. “
Can’t be.
”

“
Bastard.
” Shane’s mental voice was as grim as I’d ever heard it.

“You’re sure?” I asked the girl. “You’re sure it wasn’t someone else who attacked you? Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at me. “Look, I wouldn’t swear to it, but I’m pretty sure. I mean, we were...” She trailed off. “We were alone when it happened.”

“Could someone else have come by? Is there any way?” It couldn’t be Ryan. Couldn’t be. I’d known him half my life. How could he have hidden something this huge?

Some small, selfish part of me wondered how he could have let me think I was the only one.

“I mean, yeah, I guess somebody could’ve come up from behind and I wouldn’t have known. And when he came into the pit to give me water, it was always too dark for me to see.” Annabeth was calming down, moving back toward the table. “What’s this about? You know this guy?”

“Yeah.” Shane rubbed the bridge of his nose. “His name is Ryan Tooley.”

Bruce looked stunned. Lionel shook his head in obvious disbelief, and Shane tightened his jaw. “
There must be some mistake
,” I sent.

“Well, shit, let’s call the police!” Annabeth said. “I’ll pick him out of a lineup, no problem.”

We all looked at each other.

“I’m afraid we can’t do it quite like that,” Lionel said.

“You know what he can do,” I said, and she nodded. “I can do it, too.”

It was the first time I’d admitted it to anyone but Jackson and the Tanners, and I felt a little feverish as I said it. I thought about pulling from Ryan, doing to him what I’d done to Andrew. Ryan, who’d taught me how to hide my tells, who I’d been laughing and drinking beer with less than two weeks ago at his mother’s house.

Who’d tried to kill Mina and Shane. Who’d killed Mary Ellen, Jerry Campbell, Matthew Green and God only knew how many others.

“There’s no prison that can hold him,” I said. “Not unless I take him out first.”

Lionel rubbed his face with his hands. “Annabeth, hon, does the man who attacked you know where you live?” I knew he was having trouble saying Ryan’s name out loud, admitting it was possible. His subconscious was churning, trying to work out how this could all be a misunderstanding.

She shrugged. “I guess so. I mean, he took my wallet.”

Lionel nodded. “Sugar, I think you should get out of the city.” Annabeth looked like she was about to argue, but Lionel held up a hand. “Just until we can sort this out. I don’t reckon it’s safe for you to be at home. When whoever attacked you finds out you’re gone, he’s gonna be wondering where you went.”

“But my roommate, Christ, my folks... They’ve gotta be freaking out.”

“Trust us,” Shane said. “It’s safest for you right now if everyone thinks you’re dead. Do you know anybody out of town you could stay with? Someone you trust.”

She blew out a breath. “Yeah. I mean, if I’m desperate. I know this guy in Nashville. I can go to him if I’m desperate.” She rubbed her eyes. “Shit.” His face was in her head. It wasn’t the cheating blue polo guy, but I would’ve bet money it was an ex.

“You’re sure he can keep quiet?” I said.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“It’s just for a couple of days,” Shane said. “We can get you on the first available flight.”

I could hear what she was thinking.
Can’t I just go home?
I looked her in the eyes, wishing she still had her powers, wishing she could read my mind. “Trust us,” I said.

“I guess I’ll have to.”

* * *

We didn’t have time to sleep before the guests woke up. Shane made a pot of coffee, and he and I served breakfast while Lionel and Bruce took Annabeth to the airport. I told Shane to get some rest while I took care of the dishes, but when I finished, I found him sitting on the couch in the family room, talking to his sister on the phone. He hung up as I walked in.

“Did you tell her?” I sat down next to him, leaning a shoulder against his chest, and he shifted to wrap an arm around me. I hooked my fingers over his forearms and closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of him. He’d just shaved. I could smell his shaving cream.

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“How’d she take it?”

“I’m not sure. She didn’t say much.”

I looked at my hands. “Maybe it’ll come back. We don’t know much about how this works.”

“Maybe.” He stowed his phone back in his pocket.

“It’s still hard for me to believe it’s Ryan. There’s got to be some mistake. I mean, do you really think he killed that kid?”

“A few years ago, I would’ve said no, but now...” He shook his head. “He’s changed.”

I didn’t want to believe it. I’d been sure we were looking for a villain, someone so far fallen they were past all redemption, someone using the money to pay for prostitutes and cocaine. If Ryan Tooley could descend this far, hurt this many people, what hope was there for me?

“We have to be sure,” I said. “I can...deal with him, but we have to be sure.”

“One way to find out.” Shane pulled his cell phone back out of his pocket and scrolled for a moment, then held it to his ear. “Hey, Ryan...Yeah, it’s Shane.” I sat up and stared at him as he laughed into the phone. “Yeah, you too. Listen, you’re not offshore, right? Cass and I were gonna grab a beer later—you game?” A short pause. “We were thinking of Lazy Al’s, down on St. Philip...Sure, sounds good. See you then.”

He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket.

I glared at him. “Aren’t you risking tipping him off?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Beats freezing my ass off in a tent at Briny Point for the next week waiting for something to happen.”

“What if he looks in your head and sees what you’re thinking?”

“Come on, Cass, give me some credit. I’ve got better control than that. And that’s why we’re both going. You can poke around in his head while I get him drunk.”

“And then what?”

“Then we’ll know.”

He didn’t say it out loud, but we were both thinking it.
Then we’ll have no choice.

* * *

Lazy Al’s was a neighborhood-y sort of place, and Shane waved to at least three people as we made our way to the bar. I didn’t like being around the crowd. I’d finally stopped wishing for my pills every time I encountered a mass of people, but I still had trouble blocking out thoughts in packed places like this. Shane took my hand and squeezed it.

“
You okay?
”

“
I’ll be fine.
”

We ordered a pitcher of Abita Turbodog and found a place to sit, and a few minutes later, Ryan showed up. He clapped Shane on the shoulder and kissed me on the cheek, then poured himself a beer. Shane drained his own and set down his glass with a
thunk.