Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After calming Skylar down, we exchanged phone numbers, and I told her I’d have Acacia call her as soon as I found her. She walked me out, humming under her breath.
“Give me something,” she said. “A tithe.”
“Uh,” I thought of my slim wallet. All the cash I had had been stolen by Dieter, and everything in my bank account was earmarked for Shannon’s care facility.
“Anything,” she said.
I dug through my satchel and pulled out a bird’s feather. It helped me make my magic look like witchcraft if I carried around some of the accouterments.
She ran her thumb along the blade of the feather, ruffling it. Nodding, she grabbed my hand swiftly: a snake striking. With my palm pressed between hers, the feather sandwiched between our skin, she closed her eyes and whispered.
Magic rolled off her in waves, breaking against me. I was careful to keep it out; I had no desire for a repeat of my experience with the incubus’s magic. If I acquired a bit of oracle magic, I imagined all the havoc it would cause in my life.
She was silent for a long beat.
“Be kind to your boyfriend.” The words were resonant, like a dozen voices were speaking through her. “Pictures are perfect, people are not.”
She released my hand, keeping the feather tight between her fingers. Blinking, her eyes refocused on mine, rainbow hues dancing in her irises. Cautiously, she smiled.
“Did that make sense to you?"
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Yeah, what—?”
“I thought maybe if you gave me a tithe, it might tell me more about Acacia. Sometimes payment helps, you know? But”—she shrugged—“I mean, I guess good luck with your boyfriend?”
“He’s not—Thanks,” I said, avoiding unloading my complicated relationship with Detective Nicholas King, of those Kings, on a stranger.
She waved at me and shut the building door behind me. I checked my phone and found I still had hours to kill before I could break into Woolworth’s office. Where could I go in the middle of the afternoon on a Wednesday?
The answer came to me immediately, and I groaned.
The facility wasn’t more than five miles away, but I had no interest in walking in the scorching sun anymore, especially now that I was weighted down by the books I’d stolen from Acacia’s place and borrowed from Woolworth.
Pulling out my phone, I ordered an Uber.
This driver didn’t want any conversation, which worked for me.
I watched the buildings around us shift from the Quarter to the more staid-looking buildings on the outskirts of San Amaro.
When he pulled up in front of a wide, two-story building painted a soft sandy beige accented with teal, I grunted a thank you and slid out of the car.
Meadowhaven was the best we could afford, and it looked like what we paid for: a neat, well-run care facility. I tugged on my t-shirt, and dusted off my jeans, walking around the stone fountain and towards the automatic double doors.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen, raising my eyebrow when I saw who the caller was.
“Couldn’t keep away from me, huh?” I asked.
“Just wanted to see if you were free for dinner,” Nick said. “Thought I might take you out on an actual date, not just one that almost gets you killed.”
“I don’t know, I kind of liked our date to the morgue,” I said. “You know, bright lights, dead bodies, unrecognizable spells. It had all the ambiance a guy could ask for.”
Nick laughed. I wanted to ask him about his family, but given I wasn’t being truthful about my own, I thought I should tread lightly.
“Are you done already?” I asked.
“I’m headed back to the station.” Over the line, I heard a car door slam and then the audio was different as he switched to the car system. “The expert should be at the morgue later today and my captain will be there.”
“So you won’t be able to sneak in your consultant,” I surmised.
“Yeah. But maybe we could grab dinner after? I could give you the summary?”
I sighed. “I actually have my own lead. I need to follow up on it tonight.”
“Parker,” he said, voice serious. “Don’t mess around with the packs. I know you think you’re immortal, but the SoPa will kill you.”
“Yes, dad. I hear you. Not the packs. It’s something else. If it’s worthwhile, maybe we can have breakfast and talk about it.”
“Or a late night dinner?” Nick suggested. I could hear the whoosh of traffic in the background.
“You just want to make sure I’m not dead, don’t you?”
“Someone has to,” he said. “Forgive me for wanting to make sure you get back to your place alive. Oh, wait, shoot. We can’t do dinner, I’m meeting my uncle downtown.”
“Your uncle, huh?” I decided to test the waters, see if he was hiding who he was or if I was just the guy who didn’t know who he was sleeping with. “One of those real Kings? What’s he doing in San Amaro? I figured our little town wouldn’t be interesting to someone of his stature.”
On the other end, Nick snorted. “It’s the Alchemist’s Society. Their annual meeting. All the major studios send representatives. It’s a lot of powerful people in one room. I could stop by afterwards?”
So, maybe he wasn’t hiding. Maybe he was just coasting on what I didn’t know for as long as possible. Well, at least we’d have one thing in common.
“Okay, fine. I’ll text you when I get home. But you better bring some dessert,” I said. “And if you’re asleep, then no eggplant emoji for you.”
He laughed, agreeing to the deal. Hanging up, I grinned down at the phone, aware the smile melted away when I looked back at Meadowhaven.
Classical music played, and a pleasant woman smiled at me from behind the reception desk as I entered. I approached, already pulling out my license.
“I’m here to see Shannon Ortega.” I passed over my ID.
“Oh! She doesn’t get very many visitors,” the receptionist said brightly. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for the company.”
She wrote down my name and license number in the log book, noting the time, and then held out the pen for me to sign. When I finished, she passed over a visitor’s badge and reminded me I’d have to return it when I left. I shook my head when she asked if I needed directions.
Heading to the elevators, I pressed the button to the second floor and saw someone come out of the small manager’s office and check the log book, her eyes seeking me out as the elevator doors slid shut.
I sighed heavily, leaning back against the mirror lining the elevator. Great. Something else to deal with.
Shannon’s room was in the middle of a long corridor.
The entire floor was populated by people like Shannon, who needed round-the-clock care, and those who needed less care, so were only at the facility temporarily.
While some doors were decorated with photos or memorabilia, humanizing the occupants, her door only had a white nameplate reading S. Ortega.
I knocked once and then walked in. Shannon lay in her bed, eyes open.
She was in a fresh dress, and the tv was on, although they hadn’t propped her up to see it.
It sounded like background noise, a late-afternoon talk show that was probably driving her crazy.
When I lived with her, tv was a treat she doled out when someone had been particularly good.
Her hair was pulled off of her face in a braid, the color gone a mousy brown, rather than the brilliant chestnut I remembered. She breathed in and out, blinked.
“Hey, Shannon,” I said.
By the time I’d gotten home, the worst had been over.
Marco was dead, Shannon still in the hospital.
Laurel had medical power of attorney and had been arguing long and hard with the doctors about taking Shannon off life support.
No brain functions, no responses, and she wasn’t even breathing on her own.
I’d gone to see her once at the hospital, hooked up to a dozen tubes and wires. With all the beeping and screaming, I wasn’t sure how she’d been able to look so peaceful. Eventually, the doctors wore Laurel down and she agreed to let them pull the plug.
We’d both been there: me, a guilt-ridden mess, and Laurel, exhausted to the point of incoherence. The doctors had told us they would be just outside when we were ready. They turned everything off and... well, Shannon kept on breathing.
A few hours later, the doctors were scratching their heads and Laurel and I were trying to figure out where to go from there. Shannon’s insurance had covered the hospital, but long-term care was in our court. They’d provide a couple hundred dollars a month, but the rest was up to us.
Personally, I thought it was her magic keeping her alive. She was a powerful witch, head priestess of her coven, and there had to be some reason she was still ticking even though every medical professional that looked at her thought she should be dead.
“You look good,” I said. “I mean, all things considered. Sorry it’s been so long since my last visit.
Laurel got on my case. Her bakery is going really well.
I don’t know if she’d brag to you about it.
You know how she is. Perfect is never good enough with her.
Anyway, she got a write-up in the San Amaro Breeze, you know that weekly?
You used to complain about the horoscopes? ”
I watched her chest rise and fall. She blinked. Shifting in my chair, I gripped the strap of my bag, my fingers going numb.
“There’s a guy who asked me out. He’s a cop.
We’ve run into each other before, on the job.
He’s nice. I think you’d like him. Or at least you wouldn’t hate him.
He’s very by-the-book. Although I think he’s bending the rules a bit for me.
He let me go to an autopsy with him, to help me help him solve a case. ”
Sighing, I considered my next words.
“I don’t know what to do about him. I can’t tell him about me, and you always said truth was important in a relationship. I mean, I know you were talking about you and me, but I always kind of thought you meant in general, like, for romantic relationships, too.
“And I can’t stop thinking about you and Marco, too. You two were like so good together. I mean, I saw enough couples that weren’t. And you guys were just... great.”
Biting my tongue, I felt a spark of pain.
“But the real reason is this. He has a dangerous job, I have a dangerous job. What if I lose him like I lost you? What if we start something and he gets killed? I mean... I don’t know. I don’t know that I could do that.
“I think sometimes if you’d survived. I mean, you did survive, but if you were aware of everything, you’d just be crying all the time. I remember how you and Marco were. If I feel this bad losing you two, how would you feel about losing him?”
For a moment, I just breathed, realizing the air felt heavier. I swallowed.
“And he hasn’t been honest with me. I know I haven’t been honest with him, but he’s from the King family. An alchemist. But, can you imagine if he found out about me? Even you were freaked out. I know you tried not to be, but you were.”
Groaning, I rubbed a hand over my face. I dragged it up through my hair, aware I’d just made it stand on end like some punk rockstar.
“I wish I could ask you what to do. There’s other stuff going on, too. It’s all just a mess. And there’s no one I can go to for advice.”
Weirdly, my mind flashed to Malcolm, and his offer to look at the eviction documents. But that was ridiculous. As far as I could tell, he was as human as they come. There was no way I could dump any of this on him. Even the relationship stuff would blow his mind, if he was as old as he looked.
“I’ll figure it out. Anyway. You look good.”
I reached out and patted her hand, her skin tacky and cool. She didn’t move, not that I expected her to. Standing, I leaned over and straightened some hair which had gotten loose from her braid.
“See you later. I’ll try to visit more often,” I said.
Maybe if I got evicted, I could set up shop in her closet. We were already paying for her room and it wasn’t like she’d mind.
The bland classical music was still playing when I got back in the elevator and rode it down. In the lobby, the receptionist grabbed the phone, and I took long strides towards the door. I was only a foot away from the threshold when someone called for me.
“Mister Ferro!”
Wincing, I turned, smiling my most client-friendly grin.
“Yes?”
“Victoria Hawkins, director here at Meadowhaven,” she said, extending her hand. I shook it and wondered what could be so wrong the director wanted to talk to me.
“What can I help you with?”
“I wanted to let you know there have been a few incidents recently with Ms. Ortega and we aren’t sure how you and your sister want us to handle it,” she said.
Frowning, I crossed my arms. “What incidents?”
“I hope you know we wouldn’t come to you if it wasn’t something... well. Her tv changes channels,” she said.
“What?”
“We set it on PBS, because we find it’s the least disruptive for our residents, but we’ve come in several times now and found it’s on different channels.”
“That sounds like you have a staff member who’s watching tv when they’re supposed to be taking care of Shannon,” I said.
“Yes, normally, I’d agree with you,” she said. “But there’s also the dreams.”
“What dreams?” I asked.
“We’ve had to be... thoughtful about who we place in the rooms adjoining Ms. Ortega’s. We’ve had a couple of residents who complained about the same dreams when they were in rooms next to hers.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“They keep having dreams of a car crash,” she said. “And also about a family. Your family.”
I blinked, goosebumps rising on my arms. “What do you want me to do about it?”
“We’re concerned about the long-term viability of having a resident like her here.” She gave me a bland, comforting smile. “If we keep her, we would need some extra funds in order to compensate staff and residents for the disruption in their lives.”
“Staff?” I asked.
“Sometimes the staff who work with her also experience... well. I won’t go into the details, but it’s been hard to find a staff member willing to care for her long term.”
I dragged a hand through my hair. Okay. Okay.
“I’ll talk to my sister,” I said. “We’ll try to figure something out.”
“Good,” she said perfunctorily. “I’m glad we had this chat.”
Nodding, I muttered a goodbye and walked outside, the air cooling as the sun set. What would it mean if Shannon was actually in there? How would she be faring after so long locked up in her own body?
I cursed and checked the time. I still had a couple of hours to kill, but if I grabbed dinner, that would make it eight. Good time for a college break-in.