Scent of the Roses, page 11
Patiently, she followed his instructions, until she had constructed the perfect protection. Confident that she was prepared for any future attacks, as she had begun to think of them, she headed back to the escalators, circling upward this time, through floor after floor after floor.
She had thought she was safe after that. Thought they’d tire of the game once it ceased to serve them. Once the maze she had constructed within her own mind, the mirrors and traps she had laid there, had succeeded in providing enough misinformation to foul all their plans.
But after that last argument with Lisa a new fear had surfaced.
What if they find out about Nick?
They could hypnotize her again, and maybe cause her to say or do all sorts of horrible things. Perhaps they already had?
With a growing sense of paranoia, she considered her actions of late. Had she done anything unusual? Anything strange? Anything that she wouldn’t normally have done?
Well, yeah; she’d slept with Glenn. Definitely not one of her better ideas. Still, she’d had her reasons, hadn’t she? And, much as she might like to blame someone else for that decision, she didn’t really think Lisa would have suggested it. But what about one of the others?
Maybe? Sadly, she couldn’t say it was impossible. Given everything else she’d learned about them, everything else they’d done to her… Honestly, it was not all that farfetched.
Okay, that’s it. It’s war now.
She’d seen no other choice but to go back into her own subconscious and build new defenses. Her hands had been shaking so badly she could barely light the candles and the heliotrope incense. It had taken her a long, long time to calm her breathing, and even then, she found herself descending at a frightening speed – down and down and down and down – into the very center of the earth, it seemed.
Even before she got there, she could smell the fear. So strong it all but smothered her. A sour, clinging scent, like stagnant water thick with decayed vegetation. The atmosphere reeked with it. When the wizened old man approached her this time, there was a look of deep concern on his face. Speaking softly, he gradually calmed her until she was able to step away from the rank cloud that surrounded her. She felt cleaner, calmer, although she could still see the roiling, seething mass her emotions had created, as it hovered in the darkness at the edge of her perception.
She left it there. Turning her attention away from the fear, she focused her thoughts on what she’d come for.
First of all, she needed the code words they had implanted into her subconscious. There had to be a way to access that information. Once she had it, she could construct a kind of armor to protect herself—both from their wrath and from any further prying they might seek to do. And, finally, she would also need a way to deflect them. Something that would stop them if they ever tried to hypnotize her again. A way to force them to keep their distance from her.
The first was the easiest. In fact, she almost couldn’t believe it when she’d searched their minds and found just a handful of names.
That was it? That was all they had needed, all they had used, to cause all this trouble? It was hard to believe that something so seemingly harmless could have such power. But, then again, all the old stories spoke of the power that existed in names. And, armed with this knowledge, Scout knew she could construct a suitable deterrent.
To serve her second need, the old man produced a long cloak. Smoke gray, soft as the fall of night. It hung to the floor and the hood, when he had drawn it up over her head, was deep enough to cast even her face into shadow.
The garment was made of a thick, cloudy substance. Once she was wearing it, Scout felt as though she were clothed in fog. It distorted her perceptions, she noticed that right away, but just the tiniest bit, hardly enough to signify. Some things – things she’d barely noticed before – sprang suddenly into focus, while others receded. It felt warm and weightless on her shoulders as she allowed him to bind it securely around her.
The last thing she needed was some sort of reverse trigger. Like an early warning system, or an alarm. A way to retaliate if they ever again tried to get into her mind. But she was just so mad, and all she could think of was her own overwhelming desire to hit them. Hard. To hurt them the way they’d hurt her.
This time, it seemed to take forever to climb back to the surface. At almost every stop, she found herself wanting to wander off and explore her surroundings. The cloak, too, seemed to grow warmer and heavier as she went up. She wished she could take it off, but it was fastened in some manner she did not understand, and she wasn’t sure how to undo it.
Eventually, she did make it back to her room, and her normal consciousness. At least, she was pretty sure she had. But everything around her still looked strange somehow, so she couldn’t be sure.
She’d been nearly overcome with exhaustion and couldn’t find the energy to figure out how exactly things were different. In fact, she had barely enough energy to blow out the candles. She lay down on the bed and curled herself into a ball. She was asleep almost instantly.
Over the course of the night, she seemed to pass from one strange dream into another. By morning the details of her dreams had blended with the events of the previous afternoon, and they had all but dissipated from her memory. She’d overslept and had to rush to avoid being late for school. The day had passed in a pleasant haze of anticipation. She was meeting with Nick at his apartment that afternoon. Each time she thought of it her breath caught in her throat and tiny tremors of excitement rippled through her.
Today was the day they would become lovers. She was sure of it.
She might have seen Lisa and the others somewhere around, during the course of the school day. But she had taken no notice. And later, when asked, she’d insist she had no memory of having seen them at all.
For twenty years, she’d have no memory of any of it.
1 This is one of many places where the series really shows its age. Granted, Scout is describing something that occurred twenty years in her past, but still. Tape recorders.
Cassette Tapes. I feel old. lol!
2 Just an FYI. This storeroom will make a dramatic reappearance in book seven, Visions Before Midnight.
8
“I cannot believe you actually planned that!” Lucy was seething. The three women had gone back to Marsha’s booth, where she had ordered tea and sandwiches for them all—along with an herbal compress for her cheek—but Scout and Lucy were both too angry to think of food.
“Well, I can’t believe you used one of those names for your own daughter!” Scout snarled back at her. “What did you think was going to happen if I ever came back? Or were you just not thinking about that?”
“Of course, I wasn’t thinking—I was seventeen! And why wouldn’t I use it? The whole point was to pick names we really liked, so we’d remember them.”
“Well, I hope you’re happy then. ’Cause I sure as hell remembered, didn’t I?”
“Oh, yeah, Scout. I’m freakin’ delirious. Can’t you tell? And just what were you thinking, huh? We were friends back when you came up with the idea. Supposedly.”
“Oh, don’t even go there. I am so not the one at fault.”
“Enough!” Marsha threw the compress on the table and glared until she had gotten their attention. “You both need to calm down. There’s no permanent damage done. We’ll just re-hypnotize Scout to—”
“What?” They responded in unison, glaring right back at her.
Scout nearly choked on her outrage. “No. Fuck no. Not happening.”
“Exactly. Count me the fuck out of that!” Lucy sputtered.
“Oookay. So, then I guess we’ll go with Plan B. We’ll just be real careful who we introduce her to while she’s here.”
Lucy scowled. “Hear that, Scout? There’s another good reason for you to leave town. I’m thinking today’s none too soon.”
“Think again,” Scout snarled at her.
Marsha sighed. “Okay, stop. What did I miss now?”
“Scout’s got some stupid idea she might stay awhile,” Lucy complained, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. “Like…forever, or something.”
Marsha looked thoughtful. “Okay. Interesting.”
“Well, why shouldn’t I?” Scout asked, somewhat defiantly. “I have a house here that I can’t unload. I mean, I could, I guess. But what if Lisa comes back to reclaim her half?”
Marsha’s face clouded. “Scout. I think you need to face the facts. Lisa’s not coming back.”
“You know what, Marsha? I’m starting to really wonder about you. What do you know that makes you so certain about that? And don’t say psychic intuition, because you know what I think about that!”
“Hello ladies. Mind if I join you?” a woman’s deep voice interrupted. Scout turned to see a rather large, imposing figure looming behind her.
Marsha beamed at the newcomer with what looked like a whole lot of relief. “Heather! Great to see you. Sit down. Please.”
“Oh, Marsha— Ouch!” Heather winced as she deposited her tray on the table and sat herself behind it. “What’d you do to yourself—run into a door?”
Marsha waved the question away. “Nothing so dramatic. Just a slight occupational hazard. Heather, meet Scout.”
Heather’s eyebrows rose. “Oh! Caroline’s stepdaughter, right? Nice to meet you, I’m sure.” She nodded briefly in Scout’s direction and then turned to Lucy. “And how’re you doing today?”
“Well, I’m just fantastic, Heather,” Lucy answered with forced cheerfulness. “Never better.” She raised her cup in a small salute before taking a tiny sip.
“Hmph! So I see.”
“Don’t mind her,” Marsha insisted firmly. “She’s fine. We all are. Anyway, what were we saying?” But before Scout could answer, she was interrupted again, this time by a young woman whose long red hair was arranged in dozens of tiny braids strung with beads.
“Mom?” She sounded concerned as she came up behind Marsha. “Hey. What happened to your face?”
“It’s nothing, baby. Just an accident.” Marsha smiled fondly at her daughter. She turned to Lucy and whispered urgently, “Do you remember any of the other names we used?”
Lucy grimaced. “Not really? But I think you’re okay. Maybe.”
“Well, if not, I guess I can always duck. Scout, this is my daughter. Jasmine.” Marsha said, then paused while they all waited for a reaction that did not come. Smiling, she continued, “Okay, then. Jazz, this is an old friend of mine, Scout.”
“Hi.” The girl smiled, green eyes glowing in her honey-brown face.
“Nice to meet you,” Scout returned the greeting with a smile of her own.
Jasmine turned back to Marsha. “Listen, Mom, I think there’s a problem.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Well, Celeste was reading for Robyn, right? And, uh, she…well, she sorta dropped the cup. Accidentally.”
Marsha frowned. “So?”
“Yeah, well. You know. Kinda accidentally on purpose, I think?”
“Oh!” Marsha’s eyes grew wide. She got quickly to her feet. “Oh, crap. Okay, where are they, now?”
“Well Robyn is still inside. She’s just finishing her sandwiches. I don’t think she even noticed anything was weird. I mean…” She paused long enough to heave a dramatic sigh and roll her eyes. “You know what she’s like. I think Celeste would’ve had to hit her over the head with the cup for her to have realized anything was wrong. And maybe even then she wouldn’t. But Celeste is in the back. And she won’t talk about it.”
Marsha nodded. “All right. I’ll go take care of it.”
“What do you think’s going on?” Scout asked Lucy after they had gone. Lucy looked at her speculatively. For a moment, Scout didn’t think she was going to answer.
Finally, Lucy sighed and said, “Sounds like bad news for your housemate, I guess. One school of thought says, if you’re doing a reading and you see something you don’t like in a teacup, you can sometimes stop it from happening by breaking the cup, or stirring the leaves back up, or…I don’t know, anything along those lines. Not that everybody agrees with that philosophy, of course, but I think Celeste does.”
Heather started slightly. “Wait. Say that again?”
“Well, you know, I guess it depends on whether or not you believe free will makes a difference or if you think the future’s immutable. And you know Celeste, Heather, she’s definitely not into immutable.”
“You said one school of thought. Is this something that’s widely known?”
“I don’t think it’s a universal thing, but yeah, I’d say it’s pretty common knowledge.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Scout snapped. “Lucy, are you really gonna try and tell me you believe all this crap? You didn’t used to be so gullible.”
Lucy thrust her chin forward mutinously. “Yeah? And you used to be a little more open-minded. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens, won’t we?”
“Yeah.” Scout grabbed a sandwich from the plate in front of her. “I guess we will.” She took a big bite and chewed moodily.
Devil worship, Glenn had said, Blood sacrifices. Ritual killings. Stuff like that.
No. Not possible. Scout refused to consider the idea any further. Lucy might be a lot of things, not all of them nice, but that? No fucking way.
“Dad! Dad! C’mere a minute. Quick, take off your glasses!”
Nick smiled at his daughter, as she came running toward him with Mandy in tow. Puzzled, he removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his pocket.
Kate tugged at him until he crouched down next to her. Then she placed her head next to his. “Okay, Mandy. What do you think? Do I?”
Mandy squinted at the two of them. “I guess. I mean, they’re the same color and all.”
“What’s all this about, girls?” Dan asked.
“Oh, my gosh, Daddy!” Mandy turned to him excitedly. “Wait until I tell you what happened! It was sooo weird. There was this lady, right? She says she’s a friend of Mommy’s from—”
“Oh, and she knows you, too Dad,” Kate interrupted. “She said I have your eyes, and—”
“No, Kate. Let me tell it,” Mandy whined. “Okay. So. Dad. You’ll never guess. She hit Marsha! We were just standing around talking and all of a sudden she just hauls off and hits her. Right in the face! And Marsha hadn’t even said anything but hello!”
Kate giggled. “And then Cousin Lucy started cursing at her!”
“I’ll bet.” Dan chuckled. “Anyone who knows Lucy and goes around attacking her friends must be some kinda nut.”
“Oh, no,” Kate insisted. “She was way cool.” Her face creased. “Except for the hitting part. But you know what the weird thing about that was? It’s that Marsha didn’t even seem to mind.”
“I know, right?” Mandy agreed. “Wasn’t that freaky? She was laughing, and everything. My Mom wasn’t laughing, though. She was really mad.”
“Better find out who she was, Nick,” his cousin Joey said with a smile. “You’ll probably be investigating her homicide by tomorrow.”
“Oh, but I told you. You already know her,” Kate chimed in. “She has a really funny name. What was it again, Mandy?”
Mandy rolled her eyes. “God, Kate. Don’t you remember anything? It’s Scout.”
And just like that, Nick’s world slid off its axis. He took a slow, deep breath as the ground beneath his feet began to tilt.
From another part of the galaxy, somewhere far, far away he heard Joey’s startled exclamation, “Oh, fuck, no.”
“Uncle Joey!” Mandy gasped. “You said that just like Mom!”
“Sorry about that,” Joey mumbled in apology, a short while later, as the three men waited for the girls to get back with Kate’s bags.
Dan shook his head at his brother-in-law. “I don’t know about you, Joe. Who is this woman they were talking about, anyway? An old girlfriend of yours?”
Joey shook his head glumly. “Not mine.”
Nick cleared his throat. He felt as though he’d been swallowing sawdust for the past few minutes. “Listen. Guys, I’ve been thinking about this camping trip. I have a lot of work right now and, the thing is, I’m not sure I should be taking the time off. I’m gonna have to cancel. You know, maybe take a rain check, or something.”
“Aw, man,” Dan shook his head. “That’s a damn shame. You’ve been working too hard, Nick. And I tell you, pal, you’re going to miss some great fishing.”
From the safety of his mirrored glasses, Nick hazarded a furtive glance at Joey’s face.
His cousin’s mouth had dropped open. He stared at him, shaking his head in disgust. “Fucking hell,” Joey muttered, just as Kate and Mandy got back with the bags.
“Hello, Lucy. How’ve you been?”
At the sound of the cool, familiar voice, Lucy felt an instant surge of dislike. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering what she could possibly have done to deserve the week she was having.
“Just fine, Paige,” she answered through gritted teeth, as she turned to face Oberon’s most tenacious news reporter. “And you?”
Paige Delaney’s smile was the very picture of serene, but her inquisitive gray eyes glinted speculatively. Lucy suppressed a sigh. She wasn’t really sure why she disliked Paige so much; the woman had never done anything to her. So far as she knew.
Maybe it was something about the way she always looked. So sleekly professional, every glossy hair perfectly in place. Standing next to Paige, Lucy knew she’d feel underdressed on a clothing optional beach. Just thinking about the woman brought out an atavistic desire for a really sharp knife. Or maybe a set of talons. Shit. I so do not need this. Especially not now, with Scout still at large, somewhere in the vicinity. And Nick due to arrive any minute to pick up Kate.
“I heard there was a little commotion over here earlier. A fight of some kind. Anything I should know about?”
