Blood Debt (The Blood Sisters Book 2) (5 page)

Through a
cavern, a twisted grotto of evil where the demons dwelled. Where the monsters
didn’t just reside, but where they were born. Hatched, coming straight out of
the lake of fire itself.

Along the
cavern wall, a
nameplate on a door
that
led into a cavern. J. Blood.

Jessica?

Amanda’s
stomach hurt so badly, to think Jessica had her own special cavern in hell. It
wasn’t right. Wasn’t fair.

Behind
all that, sandwiched between two giant rocks, was a door. A blue steel door, with
a giant round knocker right in the center. Behind it, the beast paced,
desperate to be free. It slammed its body and horns against the steel door.
Amanda forgot to breathe as she watched the steel dent from each hit.

The beast
wanted to be free. The beast was tired of waiting.

It was
gunning
for
her soul.

Something
pierced her chest and, Amanda’s eyes shot open and her back arched. A gasping
scream escaped her mouth as Duncan came into view. His hand slapped her cheeks.
And in the center of her chest, a needle.

Amanda
gasped and flailed her arms, finally breathing again. “A shot of adrenaline,”
Mike said, sitting on the floor beside her. “You gave us quite the scare,
girl.”

Amanda
wanted to nod or say
something
but didn’t
think she could yet. She wanted to as Duncan removed the needle and she gasped
again, rolling onto her side. Duncan’s strong hands swept her hair back and a
swell of protective love followed next from him. Amanda’s wished for just a
moment to be alone with her own thoughts and emotions. Right now she felt
everything too strong, too bright. Overwhelming.

Amanda
wanted to be alone with her own emotions and not someone else’s, for just a few
moments.

Closing
her eyes, Amanda waited for clarity to follow. Often, closing her eyes blocked
out the swirling emotions of others, but not this time. Duncan was scared for
her and Mike, might have even felt it worse.

“We stick
together,” Mike said. “For now. To get you through this. We will see you
through to the other side.”

He said
only half the truth. The part he hid? What if her soul was never put back
together the way it was supposed to? What if her powers just kept changing,
growing, strengthening?

What if
she’d never be the same again?

*****

It was
Aunt Gwen’s worse nightmare.

“Your
powers may grow. They might change; no one has been born like you, maybe in all
the history. Jessica,
well
intentioned as
she is, might not be able to protect you forever.” Aunt Gwen sat down on
Amanda’s bed.

But teenage
Amanda didn’t want to listen. Her hair was pulled back in an elegant ponytail
and in her hand she clutched a tissue. “She’s always come for me.”

“You need
to learn to control it and, above all, your soul must remain pure. Corruption
of one’s soul does more to us than we realize. For a regular person, it guides
the rest of their life. For you, it could change your powers in ways we can’t
even start to guess.”

Amanda
crinkled up her nose. “You mean I can’t be with a boy? Ever?”

Gwen
snorted. “I’m talking about more than sex, child. This isn’t some teen romp
flick. I’m talking about purity. Giving in to evil. Evil may never touch your
heart, Amanda. No one I’ve spoken to can guess what might be in store for you.
You must become the master of your own destiny. Jessica won’t always be there.”

Amanda
hadn’t believed it. Hadn’t wanted to, but now, as she sat on the edge of the
bed in a run-down motel room, Amanda wished she’d tried harder. Wished she
listened. There were just so many more interesting things to do than trying to
control her impulses, her visions. Now that lack of discipline might be her
undoing
.

The motel
room wasn’t so bad, except for the spiders in the corners. There was a
television and outside the window, Amanda caught sight of the blinking VACANCY
sign, except the A’s were long burned out. Blue paint
on
the door frame
was
peeling, and the carpet was stained with coffee, but Amanda had stayed in
worse.

It beat
staying with demons, that was for sure.

When the
front door opened, Amanda rose from the coiled
spring
mattress expectantly. Her fingers twisted together as Duncan came in with a
tray of drinks and a brown bag of food. Amanda rushed over as he set it down on
the small round table in the corner. “Did you get it?”

“All of
your favorites. Tea, some gummy candy. They were out of cake and
pie,
though.”

Dang it,
Amanda’s mouth twisted with disappointment as she reached into the bag and
pulled out some
plastic-wrapped
pastry. She
twisted it open and stared at the lemon raspberry Danish stacked together.
Sucker punched, she felt the color run out of her face.

“What’s
the matter?” Duncan asked as he took the lid off his coffee cup and blew.

“Jessica,
these are her favorite.” Amanda forced herself to take a small nibble. It was
silly to let perfectly good food go to waste. The pastry was soft, flaky and a
long inhale proved that the Danish was buttery yet sweet, but inside her
mouth—it felt coarse, like sand.

Amanda
put it down on the table with guilt. “You went through all the trouble.”

“No, no,
it’s okay.” Duncan put his hand on her shoulder gently. “We haven’t talked
much, well about everything. About—losing Jessica. For me, I can’t even put it
into words, but for you? I can’t imagine what you’re feeling. I’m sorry,
Amanda.”

“When do
you think the next time will be when she gets to be here? Topside with us.
Enjoying food? Enjoying the pleasures that we all take for granted?” Amanda
felt the rise of tears in her eyes.

“Come
here,” Duncan pulled her in for a consoling hug. His arms were warm, like a
teddy
bear,
but strong like iron. Still
it was nice to settle into them, even though that spot had been carved out for
Jessica.

He cared
for Amanda too, she knew that. So Amanda rested her head on his shoulder and
just allowed her mind to go, spiral and unwind. Give her some comfort knowing
that she wasn’t alone. “Where’s Mike?”

“Standing
watch. He said this place is safe, but you know Mike, he doesn’t trust
anything. Not even his own word.”

Amanda
smirked and glanced up at him. “Losing Jessica is my fault, you know. She
wouldn’t have been put in that situation if Vaughn didn’t have me. She always
came
for
me. I always expected it. I
never….”

I never should’ve asked her to. I
should’ve learned how to stand on my own two feet.

Duncan’s
eyes narrowed, but what he felt wasn’t anger. Amanda recognized the feeling,
more of a protective nature. “You can’t blame yourself for what demons do. The
ones that took you, the one inside Gwen, if it wanted Jessica bad enough,
nothing we did…”

Could
have stopped it? “When did you become such a defeatist?”

He moved
away to the window, and Amanda watched him. Hands on his hips, he stared out at
something Amanda couldn’t see. He balanced his weight from foot to foot and
Amanda got the distinct impression he wanted to say something. Needed to get
something off his chest, but Amanda wouldn’t push him. She knew what it was
like to be pushed, and she didn’t like it.

So she
sat on the bed with her cup of tea and blew softly against it, watching the
ripple of water move across the steaming liquid. Like skipping a stone across
the surface, that’s what Jessica used to say, before life got real hard. Back
when she had been filled with curiosity and wonder.

Anger,
resentment, that wasn’t Jessica’s true essence, but it blocked out a lot of the
good things. They might have been negative emotions, but right now, Amanda
missed them.

“Try to
get some sleep. Tomorrow there’s a lot on our plate, and for my plan to work,
we’re going to need your help. I’ll keep watch.” Duncan turned his head and
smiled at her. “If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

But he
was tired too. Amanda saw it again in his eyes. Unable to find a way to ask him
about his private pain, she ate her food and drank some tea. Then Amanda
climbed into bed and faced the wall, taking a deep, longing yawn.

“You’re
also going to need to wear shoes.”

S
leep was
fitful, and in the morning, Amanda’s mouth tasted like rotted fruit,
but, at least,
she had survived another day.
Still dark out when she opened her eyes, the first thing Amanda saw, was Duncan
sunken into a chair.

He
snorted and his head tossed side to side. A bad dream about Jessica? Possibly.
Amanda rose quietly and
tiptoed
like a
cat to the bathroom. If the drugs were completely out of her system, Amanda
wished for a sign, but
instead,
all she
had were dry heaves. She clung to the sink for support, as images spiraled
through her mind like broken glass.

Each of
them with another thought and feeling, spinning through her consciousness. Most
unsettling were the ones of young Jessica Blood smiling, and those happy grins
turning to screams of horror.

“You okay
in there?” Duncan rapped his knuckles against the door. No doubt he was able to
hear her gagging.

Amanda
wiped her mouth on a clean white towel hanging on the wall. “I’m okay. Just not
all the way there yet.”

“I’ll
grab you something from the vending machine. Apple juice still
your
favorite?”

Duncan
always remembered the little things. Amanda nodded her thanks even though they
were separated by a shut door. “Please. Thank you, Duncan.”

“Hey,” he
said softly, the words brooding off his tongue, “you never need to thank me.”

The words
he said were so simple, but Amanda heard his regret and his unspoken apology.
He thought he needed to atone, but for what? Skipping out on them? Amanda
didn’t hold grudges; there was no room in her heart for such a thing.

****

Hospital.

But not
just any hospital. A psychiatric hospital.

Not
exactly Amanda’s favorite place; with how strong her powers had been in the
last twelve hours, she wasn’t clamoring to go inside. In fact, as she stared up
at the tower, the energy in the place surged. Trying to pull her closer. So
desperate for their side of the story to be told.

In truth,
she was downright terrified. Was it any wonder sometimes Amanda wished to
become a hermit? Go live on top of a mountain and never see people again? Just
relish that silence and absolute stillness.

Live in
her own head for a little while.

There was
work to be done, Aunt Gwen’s voice echoed in Amanda’s head as if she stood
right beside her. It was a simple truth and one that reminded Amanda she
couldn’t slink away. People needed her. Her gifts might be a curse, but
at least,
they could help people. Right now she
really needed her gifts to help Jessica.

Easier
said than done, considering the black pumps Duncan made her put on.

Duncan
stood on her right and Mike on her left. Mike was at home in a suit, but Duncan
dressed up like a businessman—he might as well have been a lizard trying on
sheep’s wool for the first time. His arms hung
unnaturally
at his side. His hair, sweeping over his
forehead,
just didn’t seem to fit.

They were
going to get caught and thrown into the brig, into jail, solitary confinement.
Something. Amanda just knew it.

“You
survived the night,” Duncan said, “you can survive this too.”

Amanda
wasn’t too sure. The black pantsuit she wore felt restrictive and her toes were
cramped up inside shoes. She got the point was to look professional, and
professionals wore shoes. Heck, toddlers wore shoes. Amanda just didn’t.

But to
try to get a bead on Jessica, she’d do just about anything. “Just follow our
lead,” Mike spoke out of the corner of his mouth like he often did. He spun the
collar around his neck and in his hand, a well-read leather bible. The corners
were bent; his faithful copy. Amanda wouldn’t be surprised if he never went
anywhere without that thing.

Up the
marble steps they went, the towering hospital lay against the backdrop of a
bright blue sky. Large marshmallow clouds slowly drifted by, but when Amanda
placed her hand against the glass revolving door, it all seemed to stop. Her
mind froze, and screams of terror echoed through her brain on a loop, like
feedback coming from a speaker. It set her mind into a frenzy.

Amanda
yanked her hand back and cradled it against her chest. Eyes wide, she pleaded
with Duncan. “Can I do this?”

“If you
can’t,” that toothpick twirled inside his mouth, “we might be dead in the
water.”

“If she’s
not strong enough…” Mike’s voice was laced with conviction. He wanted to
protect her.

Nice,
sweet. The taste of honey on Amanda’s tongue. She stood firm and pushed the
door, spinning inside
its
column. On the other
side, a sterile looking hotel lobby. The place struck Amanda as more corporate
than hospital, with its smell of citrus balanced against antiseptic.

Elevators
dinged and there was light chatter behind the receptionist station where two
ladies sat. They answered the humming phones, behind them a mahogany wall.

It didn’t
remind her of the
place
Jessica spent her
formative years. That place had been dingy, dirty, with a fog hanging on it
that masked the true terror that went on
behind
closed doors. Though her powers had just bloomed then, and it had still been a
scary place to visit.

Very
Scary.

They
passed through the metal detector with ease because their weapons were back in
the car. An uneasy glance passed between the gentlemen. Amanda’s foot was cushioned
by the carpet, and she didn’t care for how it felt against her pump.

She
paused, only to have Duncan take her by the arm like a suitor—slow and
gentle—and lead her to the counter. “Keep your mind focused and all these
thoughts and feelings at bay, all right?”

She
nodded she would, but her heart cried a song. Amanda never learned to control
it, why hadn’t she listened to Gwen a little bit harder?

The
ladies at the desk swiveled in their chairs as they got closer. Their eyes
swept across
them
but landed straight on
Duncan. Figured, but Amanda wasn’t one to cast blame. He was really easy
on
the eyes and with everything going on, there
was days old stubble on his chin. Rugged. Sexy. Amanda could see what they saw
in him.

Duncan
flashed his
billfold
to the blond and
brunette behind the counter. “Special Agents Startler and Waldorf, here to
escort the priest here to see one of your patients.”

Mike made
the sign of the cross in mid-air and kissed the front of his bible, for effect.
Amanda had to agree, it was effective, all right.

But the
nurses barely took their eyes off Duncan. The blond rested her chin in her
hand, her pearl bracelet slipping down her arm. “Which one? We have lots of
those, Agent.”

Amanda
put her hand down on the counter and ignored the charge of images flashing in
her mind. Like closing a door, she tried her best to seal herself off. “Ronald
Wax.”

The lady
snorted and sat up straighter. “The mass killer lunatic?”

Duncan
smiled and leaned on the counter. “Alleged, right? Besides, everyone has a
right to confession.
A last
visit with
his priest.”

She
rolled her eyes and handed him a clipboard. “Sign in. Then head up to level
thirty-two. It’s where we keep the most disturbed patients.”

At least,
the ones who went
around
murdering
everyone
.

Duncan
signed their names and then handed the clipboard back to the receptionist with
a wink. He led Amanda by the arm up the small set of stairs toward the
elevator. Her heels clicked in uneven rhythm against the tile. Shoes were
impossible to walk in.

“They’ll
never let you in to see him,” the receptionist called after them.

Maybe not
normally, but that was left up to Amanda. Jessica didn’t call her the closer
for nothing.

*****

Thirty-two
floors of sheer
mind-blowing
terror.

Shadows
and memories moved inside the steel walls, but when the elevator dinged open
Amanda saw the worst of it. The thirty-second floor was where the most
dangerous inmates were kept and proof of that seeped through the walls. Hand
prints of terror stamped through stucco and screams vibrated from the
wallpaper.

Amanda
stepped out and felt woozy as her legs shook, Duncan held her close by, but
with a
casual
arm draped over her waist.
“Keep it together,” he said nice and slow. His smile wouldn’t draw attention to
them.

No, that
was on all Amanda. She tried her best to keep a stoic face, but as an orderly
passed them, she quivered. His eyes were soulless and the back of his balding
head shifted with a cackling smile. He might not be a demon, but his soul was
ill-fitted. He meant harm to the people behind these walls. Terrified, Amanda
shifted away from him and stared at Mike.

His eyes
met
hers
but were balanced. If he sensed
what Amanda felt, there was no
outward
sign. For a priest, he was pretty deaf to the spiritual nature of such a place.
Tone deaf, of
sorts
, to the evil that
crept
all around them.

At the
end of the hall stood a brown door guarded by an officer. In his police cap, he
was all business, gazing straight ahead. He smelled like coffee and his wife’s
perfume. “Stay close,” Duncan said, “and let me do the talking.”

Sounded
great to Amanda, and Mike only huffed with a nod, but
at least,
he wasn't nervous. His emotions were static. He'd be a
psychologists dream.

As they
approached the police officer on duty, Amanda couldn’t help, but get a little
nervous. Most the time it had been Jessica who had trouble with the police, but
Amanda felt sour about the entire situation.

“Can I
help you?” The officer asked in a less than friendly voice.

Duncan
flashed billfold that he was so fond of. “Special Agents Beaker and Benson,
here to see the prisoner.”
 

The
officer gave Duncan the once over, his eyes bore into him, a defensive anger
simmering in the cop’s gut. Already he didn’t like them. Great. “You don’t have
any jurisdiction here with this prisoner. What’s up with that priest?” The cop
nodded his head at Mike, who simply smiled a mile of platitudes.

“He’s
with us as a consultant. Grisly murders, sacrificial in nature. We think this
might be our guy. If you could spare us a handful of minutes…”

Duncan
sounded official enough, but the cop blinked staring straight ahead. “Did you
clear it with my captain, because unless you did…”

Frustrated,
Duncan licked his lips and inside steamed like a latched kettle.

“Listen,
Agent, I get it, but this jackass is as
crazy as they come. He won't say a thing; it's a waste of your time, my time.
We should just fry him right now.”

Duncan
wasn’t going to get anywhere with the cop, but that didn’t keep him from
trying. He opened his mouth to speak, but Amanda pushed between him and the
officer.

Delicately
she placed her hand on the officer’s and gave it a good old fashioned squeeze.
“Please, just a few short questions. It won’t hurt anyone if he doesn’t say
anything, will it?”

His eyes
locked with Amanda’s and a strange sensation overcame her. She felt the
energy
pulsing down her arm into the cop. Her
mind buzzed with rich colors and just when it couldn’t get more intense, Amanda
was blinded by a flash of light in her inner most eye. She saw this cop as just
a boy playing in a field. A sweet vulnerable boy who was open to mind
manipulation.

Her
insides turned to jelly as she let go of the officer’s arm. He sighed and
slipped the key from his pocket. “You have a few minutes, but that’s all I can
spare, Ma’am.”

Duncan’s
eyes narrowed. “That’s Agent Benson to you,” he muttered, but Amanda just
smiled her thanks as the steel door was unlocked. Then, one by one, they
stepped through, leaving the cop outside to guard the entrance.

“Did
you...how’d you change his mind?” Mike asked.

That
wasn’t what she did…was it? Amanda couldn’t admit to something she knew nothing
about.

“They
don’t call her the closer just for nothing,” Duncan said, but his voice was
laced with worry. Amanda sensed he didn’t feel as jovial as he pretended, but
it wasn’t hard to see why. So distracted by Duncan’s emotions, it took a moment
for Amanda’s eyes to fall onto Ron.

The steril room had
white walls with white sheets on
the bed. Ron sat in white pajamas, white socks, and even white shoes. The place
must go through bleach like some people went through the
water
. Ron rocked back and forth on the bed,
his arms tight around himself, mumbling.