Brimstone Blues

Chapter Seventeen

Taz and Matthias rode in the backseat of the rental while Tim drove and Albert rode shotgun. Tobias left on his own, in another car.

Matthias patted her hand. “Taz, you must promise me you won’t try to probe any of the Tribunal while we’re here.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want them to think you’re out of control.”

“You said yourself, a show of power to make them think twice before they screw with me.”

“Yes, but if you make them think a third time they might very well decide you’re too dangerous, too much of a threat.”

She studied him. “You’re worried about me, aren’t you?”

“Not worried about you. I’m worried about them. They don’t know you the way I do. I love you. I know your heart. Unfortunately, there are those who might fear your power out of jealousy.”

She finally nodded. “Okay. I’ll behave myself.”

“Don’t take it like that, Taz. That’s not how I meant it.”

“Well it’s how it came out.” How convenient, they were at the hotel. She shoved the back door open and stepped out without waiting for Matthias. Not only was the crawling out of her skin feeling back, she also dealt with an oppressive, heavy sensation, like the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.

At least the fucking voice wasn’t chiming in with its opinion.

Thank God.

Ever since touching down at Heathrow, Taz felt a pall settle over her, different from her earlier grief, but similar. Like it was coming from outside her. There was something else, too. A mental itch she had to scratch or go crazy.

Taz didn’t wait for Matthias to wake up the next morning. She dressed before dawn, took the rental car keys, and left him a note.

I’ll be back this afternoon, I need to go exploring. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. If I’m delayed I’ll call the hotel and leave word.

She didn’t want to take a cell phone with her. She wanted to be alone without the world intruding.

She wanted to scratch this mental itch and see what it left her with.

Taz stopped for breakfast, then instinct more than anything led her to the M11. She followed it north, away from the city.

It was a cool, cloudy morning. Unsure why, she suddenly took an exit and stopped in a small town over an hour north of London. Taz wrapped her hands around the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

Why am I here?

“Flowers.” The reply breathed from her mind, not so much the voice, but a sad, melancholy thought.

Her eyes popped open. She hadn’t expected an answer, but that was right, wasn’t it? Just like the answer about which side of the bed Rafe slept on.

She located a small florist shop around the corner. Taz walked in, and while she’d never seen the stout clerk before in her life, Taz somehow knew her name was Ellen Axelrod and she had four children and had been married for over thirty years.

Not from reading her with her powers, either.

Maybe this was another fugue in the making? It sure felt like it.

Taz walked up to the counter and mustered a weak smile. Mrs. Axelrod smiled in return.

“’Allo, love. How can I help ye?”

Unsure what to get, Taz trusted her instincts. “I need two arrangements, please. Small ones. Lilies, and pink and yellow roses.”

“Ah, ye would be here for Mr. Collins’ order then. All right, love, are ye okay?”

The woman came around the counter, worried, and grabbed Taz by the arm to keep her from fainting. At the mention of Rafael’s name Taz felt the blood drain from her face. Her body went numb.

“C’mere, sit yerself down, miss.” Mrs. Axelrod guided Taz to a chair. “Ye don’t look well.”

She struggled not to cry. “Mr. Collins’ order?”

The florist nodded. “Aye, he gets the same thing every year when he comes in, always about this time. He preordered it a few weeks ago so I’d have time to put it together. He was getting ready to go on a trip and said he didn’t want to forget. Ye’re here for it, right?”

Taz nodded.

“Are ye okay, love? Ye look like ye’ve seen a ghost.”

She finally met the woman’s eyes. “I hate to be the one to tell you. Rafael died a couple of weeks ago.” A few days after placing the order, most likely.

The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. “No! Oh, love, I’m so sorry. Were ye close?”

Taz nodded. That’s when her tears flowed, unstoppable.

Mrs. Axelrod put a comforting arm around her shoulder despite her own tears. “He was such a playful thing, so sweet. A real flirt. Such a good man, comin’ here for years, always getting’ the same thing.” The florist stepped around the counter to get the order. When she returned, her eyes were red. “I’m so sorry, love.”

Two small bouquets, wrapped in pink and yellow tissue paper, bound with green ribbons. They were small and tasteful, and Taz wondered the significance.

“Here ye go.”

Taz reached for her purse, and the woman stayed her hand. “Naw, love. Not today. These’re on me.” She patted Taz’s shoulder. “How is Mr. Hawthorne holding up?”

More guilt on her part. “He’s getting along as well as can be expected under the circumstances.”

“I know they’se very close, those two, even though Mr. Collins was usually the one to come in.” Mrs. Axelrod shook her head. “I’m so sorry. Please give him my condolences.”

Taz felt steady enough to stand, although her knees were iffy. “Thank you, I will. Are you sure I can’t pay for these?”

The florist shook her head. “Not today, love.” She studied Taz. “Ye loved him, didn’t ye?”

Taz struggled not to cry again. “He was the love of my life,” she whispered, staring at the bouquets. As she spoke the words to this stranger who somehow wasn’t, Taz knew the truth. Rafael was the love of her life despite all her love and desire for Matthias.

“Hold him in ye heart, love. That’s all ye can do.”

Taz made it back to the car and carefully laid the flowers on the passenger seat. She stared at them for a long time, trying to compose herself. This was too much.

She threw her head back and looked at the roof of the car. “What am I supposed to do with these, Rafe?” she screamed, glad the windows were up so passersby couldn’t hear. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with these flowers?”

She closed her eyes and cried, slumped over the steering wheel, wondering if it would ever get better.

And then the whisper in her brain.

“Drive, Taz.”

She took a deep, hitching breath and quit trying to figure it out. When traffic cleared, she pulled out and carefully negotiated the small town’s streets, away from the highway, into the countryside. Remembering to drive on the left was a challenge, but she managed.

“Where to? Where to?” she mentally chanted.

With a mind of their own, her hands turned the wheel, following roads that progressively worsened until she was creeping down something that looked like little more than a muddy, rutted sheep track. It ended at an old, tall iron gate protected by a heavy chain and new, shiny combination padlock.

Terrific. What the hell do I do now?

The voice told her.

She shut the car off and got out. I’m crazy. This won’t work. With trembling hands she turned the combination dial and tugged.

The lock popped open.

She closed her eyes and shuddered. She had to tell Matthias about this before she went crazy. At least this whispering presence didn’t sound as much like Rafael as the other voice did.

Glad she wore sneakers, Taz gently gathered the flowers and locked the car, then looked through the gate. The property was overgrown, but a cleared path wound through the brush.

She took a deep breath and followed the trail.

Matthias shook his head and handed Tim her note. “Well, I suppose I can take care of my errand then.”

Tim put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe this is best. Perhaps going there would be too much for her right now. You can have some time alone. I should think you need it, put some things in their proper place. It’s time to release the past, isn’t it?”

Matthias nodded. It would be the first time he’d gone there in years. Over eight years since his last visit. It was too painful for him most of the time. Rafael always went, every year, and always made sure to take care of things for him.

“Albert, please get me a car.”

Albert nodded and called the hotel desk for the arrangements. Twenty minutes later, with sunglasses to hide his red eyes, Matthias drove north away from the city alone.

After fifteen minutes of walking, the winding path opened into a clearing. Taz stopped, reluctant to enter. What would she find?

“Go ahead. It’s okay.”

She couldn’t feel her feet anymore. Not from the weather, because the day had warmed, but because of her emotional shock. So this is what it feels like to lose your mind?

A soft, gentle chuckle in her mind was the only reply.

Dappled sunlight crept through the trees and scattered across the clearing. A square stone about two feet across, weathered and aged and green with lichen, lay near the center. Taz dropped to her knees in front of it, her heart racing, instinctively knowing its secret.

Sarah.

She laid one of the bouquets on it.

Ten feet away was a larger, smooth, round rock, about three feet in diameter. Taz carefully stood and drifted over to it. She started to sit and paused.

No, not there. She walked around to the other side and saw a small, natural depression in the stone and then she sat, carefully tucking the bouquet so it rested against the rock.

There. That’s right.

Then she closed her eyes and let the sudden wave of grief wash over her, as if an ancient ache even deeper than the one she felt for Rafael threatened to tear her apart. Unable to deal with the emotion, she gave herself over to it, sobbing a name into the sky and letting blessed blackness take her.

“Cassandra!”

“What do you mean, a woman came in?”

Matthias didn’t want to remove his sunglasses. He’d cried plenty of private tears during the drive and didn’t want to share that with anyone. This was something he needed to do for himself as well as Rafe.

“Just that, Mr. Hawthorne. She nearly fainted dead away when I asked if she was ’ere for Mr. Collins’ order.”

Matthias closed his eyes and silently swore. “Auburn hair and green eyes?”

“Aye, that’s her. Poor love, she’s awful ripped up over him, isn’t she? The love of her life, she said he was. I’m so sorry about him, Mr. Hawthorne. Such a shock it must be for ye.”

Matthias would process her comments later. “Yes, it was, Mrs. Axelrod. Thank you. I didn’t realize she was coming for them. Just a miscommunication.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. He was such a sweetheart.”

“Yes, he was.”

Matthias waited until exiting the shop to break into a jog back to his car. What the fuck? How in hell would Taz know about it?

He tried to calm down. She must have sensed it, that’s all. She read it in his thoughts.

But why not tell him?

He started the car, now sure where he’d find her.

Taz slowly opened her eyes. Her head rested on her arms, leaning against the rock. She sat back and wiped her face. How long had she been here? It felt like she cried a million tears from the way her nose felt stuffed up. Now she knew for sure, beyond any doubt.

This was where Rafael had buried his wife.

The stone felt cool beneath her palm, and in her mind she envisioned Rafael sitting in this exact place countless times over the centuries, the only time he allowed his tears to freely flow for Cassandra, his grief still as raw and painful as the night he took her life and released her from her pain.

“How did you know?”

She screamed and jumped, scrabbling away from the rock. In her anguish, Matthias had snuck up on her. He stood on the path where it opened into the clearing, watching her, his eyes unreadable behind his sunglasses.

She shook her head and sobbed. “I don’t know!”

In three quick strides he was at her side and dropped to his knees, gathering her to him, holding and comforting her.

“I don’t know, Matthias, I swear. I just…It was instinct. I just followed the road and thought about flowers and she had them and then the road again and the gate…” She sobbed against his shoulder as he held her.

“It’s okay,” he said, spying the flowers on Sarah’s stone. “It’s all right.”

They sat there for a half hour with Taz in his arms. When she cried herself out, she looked at the markers. “I’m losing my mind,” she whispered.

“No, my love, you’re not.”

She nodded. “I am. How else do you explain it?”

He laughed, kindly. “I’ve been thinking about this task for the past few days. I wasn’t sure how to tell you, so I didn’t say anything. Obviously you sensed my thoughts.”

She sat up and looked at him. “Really?”

He pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped her eyes. “I’m sure of it. I thought I had concealed it from you, but obviously I hadn’t.”

He removed his sunglasses and she studied his eyes. “Matthias, I heard a voice. Telling me what to do, where to go. It was intelligent, it wasn’t just a memory or an overheard thought. I keep hearing a voice.”

“Your intuition again. It simply put it into a context you could understand. Cara, you’re not losing your mind, I promise. We discussed this. You’re simply learning how to control your powers.”

She looked at the markers again, still not convinced, but hopeful. Was that all the phantom voice was? It wasn’t a voice, it was just stray signals from others?

“Taz, why not tell me you were coming here?”

She shook her head again. “I swear, I didn’t know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you! I just felt that crawling out of my skin feeling again, like something in my brain pounding at me and it wouldn’t shut up until I did it.” She looked around. “And I ended up here.”

“How did you open the gate?”

She looked at him, her irritation taking over. “Read my fucking lips. I. Don’t. Know. I don’t know. Idon’tknow. I. Do. Not. Know! I held the lock and I just felt what the combination was, like there’s this voice in my head telling me what to do!”

“Okay, okay.” He gathered her to him again, trying to calm her. “It’s okay, Taz.”

Taz followed Matthias back to London and they stopped for a private late lunch. He didn’t push her, sensing from her quiet desperation that she was having another setback. He couldn’t force her recovery, couldn’t tell her to simply suck it up. He had no experience dealing with someone of her strength—there had never been anyone of her strength—and prayed the events in Yellowstone and explosive revelations hadn’t done permanent damage to her psyche.

Later, back at the hotel, she walked down the hall to her dad’s room. Tim opened the door at Taz’s soft knock and silently welcomed her in. He sat on the bed, and she curled up next to him, resting her head in his lap.

Thirty-five, and while one of the most formidable attorneys he’d ever seen, she was still very fragile ever since her true nature was disclosed.

“I’m losing my mind, Dad.”

He stroked her hair. “No, sweetheart, you aren’t. Matthias told you, it’s most likely things you picked up and didn’t realize it. You’re still adjusting.”

“This isn’t adjusting. This is losing my fucking mind.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want these freaky powers. I want a normal life, a normal marriage. I don’t want the bullshit.”

Her logical mind struggled to make sense out of something she still hadn’t emotionally dealt with.

“I have no words of wisdom for you except that you aren’t losing your mind, and Matthias loves you more than life itself. Once we get home, the two of you need to spend several days alone, maybe weeks. You need to stay at the house and let him work with you, perhaps even work with Tobias for a while, let them help you. There is so much you don’t know, possibly many things we don’t even know about your abilities. If you insist on stubbornly trying to maintain a status quo that is nonexistent, it will rip your sanity apart.”

She shuddered in his lap. She wanted to tell him about the spoon moving, then thought better of it. “I hate this.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. This is why Matthias wanted to take his time. He wanted to avoid all of this.”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. I want my life back. I want control over my life.”

He laughed. “Sweetheart, haven’t you figured that out? Control is just an illusion. Look at Matthias, all his years of plans sent straight out the window in a heartbeat over Caroline’s doing. We have no control over our lives, truly, just in how we respond to what life throws at us. We must survive, protect those we love, and hope for the best.”

She was quiet for many long minutes. “Do you have any family?”

“Other than Albert?”

She nodded.

“Our mother is still alive, although I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of years. Not the easiest woman to get along with, I’m afraid. We have a sister, but she is off somewhere in Patagonia, I believe, last I heard. My father has been dead many years, obviously.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she said softly.

He stroked her cheek. “I have lost love before, sweetheart. And yes, it still hurts. I learned to move on and before I knew it, life continued.”

“Have you had any relationships lately?”

“No, love, not for many years. I haven’t felt the need. Besides, I had a very active little girl who needed me and kept me extremely busy.”

She laughed. “Yeah, well, at the rate I’m going, you won’t be back on the dating scene anytime soon.”

“Taz, I will always be here for you, as long as you need me. You are my little girl, and you always will be. You’ll always be that beautiful, chubby baby I first met so many years ago. I could not have asked for a better flesh-and-blood child of my own.”

“I don’t want to do this tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“I’m only doing it because of Rafe,” she whispered. “I owe it to him. She has to be punished for what she did.”

He stroked her hair. “I know, love.”

“He loved me, Dad,” she whispered. “He died for me. Because of me.”

“Not because of you.”

“Yes, because of me. He was there because of me. He was there to help me. I owe him.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t view it like that, sweetheart, but if it makes you feel better.”

She quietly lay in his lap for another twenty minutes. He stroked her shoulder, waiting her out, knowing she would sit there until she felt grounded again. This wasn’t the time or place to tell her why she felt like that after their talks throughout the years. It was one of the many things she must learn. She was attuned to him because they were bonded through their relationship, but it was a skill she could consciously tap into if she so chose, and she must learn how to do it with Matthias. He would be her husband, and he was even more powerful in that regard.

Eventually, she sat up and wiped her eyes.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded. “For now. Until the next load of insane crap is special delivered into my lap via UPS.”

He raised his eyebrow. “UPS?”

“Yeah. Unusual Paranormal Shit.”

He laughed and hugged her. “Go to Matthias and talk with him. Try to sort some of this out. Open up and let him in. You’re not crazy, darling, and he is much more powerful than I am.”

“What if he can’t help me?” she quietly asked.

It was something he’d already considered but refused to give voice or unshielded thought to around her. “He is much older than you. We already know you’re stronger than him in some ways, but lean on him, allow him to teach you the many things he does know. That way, together, you can discover your full strengths and weaknesses.”

He prayed he was right, that Matthias was strong enough to stand beside her.

The next morning, Tim knocked on their room door and motioned Matthias into the hall. “Albert has Bartholomew on the phone,” he said in a low tone. “You’re not going to like this.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” He followed Tim to Albert’s room and took the call.

“What is it?” Matthias asked.

“You’re needed at headquarters. We have matters that must be attended to. You cannot slough this off, Matthias. We need you and the others here as soon as possible to go over things before the official inquest begins.”

Matthias sighed. “What time do you want us there? Taz isn’t feeling well this morning.”

“It’s Tribunal business, Matthias. Ms. Proctor’s presence is not required until later. I can send my car for her if you’re not finished in time.”

Matthias pinched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to slam the phone against the table. “Fine. We’ll be there in an hour.”

They made the arrangements and Matthias hung up feeling slightly uneasy. He looked at Albert and Tim. “Do you think it’s safe to leave Taz alone?”

Tim nodded. “I think she can take care of herself here.”

He returned to their room and sat next to her on the bed. She’d been quiet all morning, barely speaking throughout breakfast. “Tim, Albert, and I must take care of some business this morning, for the Tribunal. Will you be okay by yourself?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I promise I won’t go roaming.”

He stroked her hair. “We’ll be with Torvald Bartholomew. I’ll call here and let you know what’s going on with…later. Grandfather will meet up with us then, too.”

Here she was in London, not the first time she’d been but the first time she’d been with free time on her hands, and she didn’t want to go anywhere. The weather wasn’t as bad as it could be. Overcast and cooler than Florida, to be sure, but she didn’t have the heart to go out. Matthias and the others would be busy for a few hours yet.

She didn’t feel like working. She didn’t feel like reading.

The image of the clearing and the two unmarked stones stubbornly refused to leave her mind.

At least the hotel had cable. She channel surfed all morning until the room phone rang.

“Ms. Proctor?” She didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but he had a slickly cultured British accent that made Albert’s smooth voice sound like a Cockney sailor by comparison.

“Speaking.”

“My name is Torvald Bartholomew. I’m sure Matthias has mentioned me.”

“Yes?”

“I’d like you to join us at my house for a little while this afternoon before the meeting with the Tribunal. I told Matthias I would call you for him. He had to take care of some additional matters for the board.”

“Something’s wrong, Taz.”

That wasn’t the gentle whispering voice of yesterday morning. That was the full-strength voice that sounded like Rafael. She willed the voice to shut up. With her other stresses, the last thing she needed to deal with was Rafael’s sound-alike phantom voice. Besides, if Matthias was worried, he wouldn’t have left her alone.

“Sure, if you’ll give me your address, I’ll take a cab over.”

“I can send my car for you, if you’d like. My driver is already in the city, and Matthias and the others will meet you here before we go for the meeting.”

“This isn’t good. Taz baby, please. Don’t go.”

She ignored the voice. “Okay, that’s fine. When?”

“He could be there in about fifteen minutes.” He told her how to recognize the driver.

“I’ll meet him at the front door.” When she hung up, the voice made its opinion known.

“Taz, wait for Matthias. Don’t do this.”

Why did the voice pick now to come back?

Bartholomew lived in an older, stately suburban residential neighborhood, his house just what you’d expect from a large, old-moneyed London family. Taz followed the butler to a drawing room where he left her alone to wait. She didn’t like the feel of the house. Not just old and drafty and in severe need of insulation. The very air felt…wrong.

“Taz baby, be very careful.”

Damn that voice. She shivered, rubbing her arms, her thumb working Rafael’s ring.

The door opened and a man she presumed to be Bartholomew entered. She remembered watching a show on Animal Planet about African predators, including hyenas. His stance and body language reminded her of one.

“Ms. Proctor,” he oozed. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.” He looked anything but. “Torvald Bartholomew.”

“Taz, pay attention!”

She jumped. It was hard to ignore the voice. Before, it was faint, almost ghostly. Now it was in her ear, as if Rafael was yelling at her. The jumpy, crawling out of her skin feeling had returned with a vengeance, and she forced herself not to run from the room.

She didn’t want to shake Bartholomew’s hand but finally did, resisting the urge to wipe her palm on her pants when he released her.

“Matthias has told me so much about you.” She felt his mental probe. She’d already put up a strong shield before getting into the car. “He didn’t tell me how beautiful you are.”

Okay, this guy was one of those annoying schmoozers who thought he was good at it but really sucked. Maybe it worked against humans and weaker hybrids, but it rubbed her the wrong way. She was itching to probe him, knowing even his mental barrier wasn’t enough to stop her, but remembered her promise to Matthias.

“Mr. Bartholomew, what did you wish to talk about?” Taz slipped into her lawyerly Ice Queen persona—cool, calm, collected.

Watch my frost.

It was a survival tactic more than anything, because given half a chance, she’d bolt. “And where’s Matthias and the others?”

“They’ll be here shortly. I wanted a chance to talk with you before you give your testimony to the Tribunal.” The butler appeared with a tea service and poured her a cup.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t like surprises, Ms. Proctor. Hate them. Can ruin your whole day. I much prefer to be prepared. As head of the Tribunal, it is my prerogative to be as prepared as necessary. Surely you can understand that?”

She took a sip of tea even though she almost couldn’t hear Bartholomew because the voice now screamed at her to leave. It took Taz a moment to speak because she could barely hear herself think.

“You want me to tell you the whole story now? It’s pretty long.” The tea tasted pungent and had an odd flavor. “I’d rather only tell it once. Besides, Matthias said he gave you a full report.” She felt odd and took another drink of tea to calm her nerves while she begged the voice to shut the fuck up. “When did you say Matthias would be here?”

Bartholomew had a weird look on his face. Weirder than before, watching her intently—

Like prey.

She put the cup down and now it was official, she felt strange, unable to focus.

Oh, crap.

He peered at her from across the table. “How are you feeling, Ms. Proctor?”

She tried to focus on him and realized how stupid she was. If she’d just listened to the voice.

She’d been drugged.

It took every ounce of her strength to stay awake. “What did you do to me?”

“No worries, but I need you to go to sleep for a while. At least until after I return from the Tribunal meeting. Not poison, my dear, I’m not that crude. Plus I can’t have you poisoned or it will ruin the plan. But I am so interested in knowing why it’s been difficult to capture you.”