Authors: Lynnie Purcell
“Your daughter, Clare, has been arrested,” Chuck said.
“On what charge!?” Ellen demanded.
I heard Sam in the background asking what was wrong.
“Murder,” Chuck said. “We have evidence linking her to Sheriff Cobb’s murder.”
Ellen went quiet. I sensed her thinking over the facts. She knew I had killed Cobb, although unintentionally. She knew it was possible Chuck wasn’t lying. She played innocent.
“I don’t believe you,” Ellen said. “Put Clare on the phone. Let me talk to her.”
Chuck handed me the phone.
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
“Clare…” she started to ask me about it.
“Yes, I got arrested for murder,” I said. “Big misunderstanding. I’m sure it’ll be cleared up in no time. I have friends who’ll help me figure it out.”
I hope she got the message that the others were nearby and not to worry. The silence on the other end of the phone suggested she got the message. I knew if I could hear her thoughts, they would be filled with worry.
“How are you and Sam?” I asked.
Ellen sighed. “We’d be better if we didn’t get phone calls like these,” she said.
“And the kids?” I asked.
“Upset you’ve left them, but having a blast with Naomi. You know how she is with kids. Cora and Sprint have gotten more sarcastic under her influence and Twitch is just crazy about her. He hasn’t said so, of course, but you can tell. Ethan and Cora finally started dating...took an act of Congress to get that in motion, but you know how devious Naomi is…”
“Have you and Sam found a house yet?” I asked.
“We wanted to talk to you about that,” Ellen said. “It’s one of the reasons we wanted to talk to you in person.”
“It’s not because you’re finally getting married?” I asked hopefully.
There was a short pause.
“How on earth could you know that?” she asked.
“You’re as obvious as day,” I said.
“Thanks a lot,” she replied.
The phone was taken from Ellen, and Sam’s masculine voice came up on the line.
“What’s this about being arrested?” Sam asked in a concerned voice.
“A misunderstanding,” I said. “Congratulations on finally asking Ellen to marry you.”
“She asked me,” Sam admitted.
“Good for her,” I said.
Sam realized what I had done.
“Will you be serious?” Sam asked. “What you are facing is nothing to joke about. Do not say anything…not without council.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“I can be there in…” I sensed him looking at his watch. “Seven hours.”
I was touched by the gesture. It was the first time anybody had been willing to travel seven hours just to get me off from a murder charge.
“Sam. It’s okay. I just need some
time
to figure things out. You understand?”
He was silent as he tried to figure out my meaning. He got the message. He knew I needed time, instead of help. Help would come. Time alone…that was another story.
“Put Chuck back on the phone,” Sam said.
I held the phone out to Chuck.
“It’s for you.”
Chuck put the phone to his ear. I heard Sam greet Chuck then Sam went in to full lawyer mode. He started talking about lawsuits against the department. Sam reminded Chuck of an embarrassing case Sam had taken on for Chuck years ago – a case that would not be good for Chuck's reelection as Sheriff. By the time Sam was a minute in to his threatening, Chuck was sweating. Driblets of sweat ran down both sides of Chuck’s face. He wiped them with a cloth, but it did nothing to stop the flow. Sam pulled no punches and left no doubt in Chuck’s mind that he would bring down the full weight of his intellect on to the case, if he didn’t allow me my rights and kept from questioning me until such time that I had council. I was impressed by Sam all over again as I listened.
The conversation finally ended. Chuck gulped as he hung up the phone.
“What did he say?” I asked in an innocent voice.
Chuck looked daggers at me and stood. He readjusted his belt and walked around to me. He helped me stand and led me over to a heavy door I had been behind once. It was the interrogation room.
“I’m going to call an advocate. Wait here.”
“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m thirsty?” I teased him.
He slammed the door in my face and locked it securely. I started pacing around the Spartan space, looking for a way out. I could transport myself to the other side of the door, but there was no guaranteeing the others wouldn’t see me. I didn’t know what the evidence room looked like, so I couldn’t just transport myself there. I would just have to hope the others were looking the other way when I appeared; I had to hope they wouldn’t catch me before I could find a way pick the handcuffs.
Just as I was preparing to transport myself back to the open room of the station, I heard shouts coming from the front room. The shouts were panicked. Over and over again I heard ‘Fire!’ and Sheriff Chuck trying to bring order to the chaos. I sat on the table and maneuvered the cuffs so that they were in front of me. I heard my shoulder pop with the effort, but I ignored the pain. Fire was definitely not something I wanted to wait around to check out. I would have to act now. The door to my room opened unexpectedly. I took a step back as it opened and wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Susan, her hair disheveled, was looking at me. The others were in a heap on the ground behind her.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I started a fire,” Susan said. “Then hit them when they weren’t looking.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“I had a dream…a vision, of you coming back. In the dream a man appeared. He was beautiful; he had the clearest grey eyes I had ever seen. He told me to help you. When I saw you, I knew the dream was real – he was a spirit sent to guide me. Too, you saved my life. You saved me from those…”
She searched for the proper word to describe the Nightstalker that had attacked her. Her thoughts circled around the memory I had shared once before – of the Nightstalker chasing her through the woods, prey against predator.
“They’re called Nightstalkers,” I said. “Or demons, if you’re feeling old-school.”
“Nightstalkers…” she agreed.
I looked at the form of Chuck and his deputies. They were unconscious, but it wouldn’t be long until they woke up again. I couldn’t take the chance that they would stay out for much longer. I had to get the sword before my window of opportunity closed.
“Do you know where the sword is?” I asked.
“Is that why you came back?” Susan asked. “Did you really kill Cobb for the sword?”
Her thoughts were uncertain – she wasn’t sure if I had been justified in killing Cobb. Her trust in me was tainted by the gossip that had spread across town.
“Killing Cobb was an accident. He was trying to kill Daniel and me. I didn’t even know what the sword was when it happened. He was working for the two bad guys you stumbled across in the woods. I had no choice…they gave me no choice.”
Susan nodded. “It makes sense.”
Her acceptance was startling. Everyone else in the town thought of Cobb as a saint. A regular savior of King’s Cross. He had been the peacemaker and had held more power than the mayor had. They had been wrong. She saw my expression.
“Cobb came to me before his death and was asking about certain Cherokee stories. He wanted to know about the stories that spoke of life beyond death, everlasting life. He tried to make it seem as if it was only a passing curiosity, but the question consumed him. The others who you speak of…we have stories of them. Creatures with unnatural lifespan. They promised him a life beyond the normal. He got death in return.”
Her words were spot-on. It was then I sensed a spiritual nature I had not been aware of the last time we had met; it was a part of her that was more tuned-in to the possibilities of the world, instead of the limitations. She saw more because of that.
“That is way creepy you guessed all that,” I said. “But accurate.”
Susan nodded again and went to Chuck. She bent down next to him and took a small set of keys off his belt. She held them up.
“These are to the evidence locker. Come on.”
I followed her down the hall past the break room. The microwave was an exploded mess and the walls were black with smoke. The hall dead-ended at a large door. The door was reinforced steel and looked intimidating.
Susan put a small key in the lock and turned. Inside was a wealth of contraband. Automatic weapons and grenades were in the corner, locked up tight. Tall shelves held other items – drugs, personal effects, some things I didn’t even have a name to.
Susan went one way along the shelves while I went the other. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for; the sharp silver of the blade stood out from the more mundane items around it. I stopped in front of the sword and looked at in wonder. How was it possible that such a sword would bring so many answers? The wonder changed to trepidation as I felt the sword radiate with a much different emotion. It was angry. I could feel it. It was a web of emotion that pulsed like a living thing. It searched for an outlet to the anger. It searched for blood. The other silver swords I had held, even my knife, had never radiated with so much anger. It was impossible to stop. It was a force to be reckoned with.
I feared picking it up. I feared it would unleash a part of me I would rather leave untested. Killing had become too easy of late; easier than I thought it could be. The way I had killed the sentry in the caves of Alaska was proof. Did I want this test? Did I need it?
Susan found me standing in front of it. She looked at it with surprisingly aware thoughts. She, too, did not want to pick it up. Not just because she feared incriminating herself in a murder investigation. She could feel the anger.
What now?
I heard Susan think.
“Now we pretend like you had nothing to do with this,” I said. “I don’t want your life to be ruined because of me.”
She didn’t waste time feeling surprised I had read her thoughts. Her in-tuned, spiritual nature rivaled even Alex’s ability at reading a situation.
“But I did help,” Susan said. “I cannot forget what you did for me, nor can I forget those people who would have killed me, if not for you.”
“I appreciate that, but keeping your mouth shut is the only way to protect yourself,” I said. “What you’ve done here today has helped more than you will ever know.”
Susan thought about my words. Her mortal fear of death –a justified fear – surrounded her thoughts. She would not forget, but she was not eager for more demons to chase her through the forest. The decision to allow her help to be thanks enough was an easy one. She finally nodded and turned back to the sword. She waited for me to pick it up.
I took a deep breath, and looked at the sword as if it were testing me. It was a test of will – it was a test to see how much darkness I held in my soul. Would I have enough willpower to stop whatever murderous thoughts it put in to my brain?
I reached out and picked up the blade. As I did the etchings on the hilt and blade burned a bright red. My necklace responded with its own burning power. Both warmed my skin to the point of uncomfortable. I didn’t move either away from my skin. I took it as another test. Finally, the sword stopped glowing and the warmth died down. The feeling of anger had been sated and the silver blade became welcoming. It was a friend, not an enemy. It was eager to allow me to take it from the shelf.
I let out an explosive breath.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” I said.
“What were you expecting?” Susan asked.
“For something to blow up,” I said.
“Much better than what you were expecting,” Susan agreed. “Come on. We need to get you out of here.”
I followed her back out of the room and down the halls to the open room. Chuck and the second deputy were still out cold, but Deputy Greene was starting to move around in a foggy awareness.
“Hurry!” Susan urged me, moving to Greene, to distract him.
As I reached the door, it was thrown back by a powerful hand. I gripped the sword with more purpose then felt relief move through me. I smiled as Daniel looked at me in surprise.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“I came to rescue you,” Daniel said.
“You’re late.” I said.
“That seems to happen a lot with us,” Daniel said.
“Yep,” I agreed.
He looked past me to Susan, who was looking at Daniel with a strange mixture of fear and trust. Fear because he reminded her of the other Watchers she had seen and trust because of his role in saving her. He read her thoughts and knew she had helped. He relaxed at the knowledge.
He turned away from her and took in the scene behind me with a trained eye. It was the look of someone impressed – Susan had surprised him, which was a feat in itself. He pulled a phone out and hit speed dial. Reaper answered on the other line, a question as to how things had turned out with me.
“I’ve got her. I need King, though,” Daniel replied.