(Psychic Visions 01) Tuesday's Child (24 page)

He watched in fascination as the blood dripped and ran to pool on top of the blankets beside her. Her face paled to a milky white, making his nerves jump again. Shit. He wanted to call for an ambulance. But what could he tell them? He knew logically there was no rational explanation. And he could be killing her by leaving her alone to bleed. Shit. Doubt paralyzed him.

Soldier stuck his nose closer to Sam, sniffing the blood. He whimpered.

Brandt grabbed his cell phone. Stefan, Goddamn it, please be home.

"Hello?" A thick sleep-filled voice growled at him.

"Oh thank God. Stefan, this is Brandt."

"Brandt." A thick throat-clearing cough bounced through the phone. "What's the matter?"

"It's Sam."

"Sam? What's wrong?" His voice turned businesslike.

"I'm in trouble."

"What else is new?"

"No, I'm here with her now and she appears to be caught in a vision."

"And?"

"Stefan. I've seen a lot of things in my life, but I've never come across anything like this. It's happening right now." Brandt took a deep breath and willed some stability into his voice. "There are cuts appearing in the blanket that's covering her and there's blood. Oh my God, there's so much blood. It's dripping on the floor." Brandt drew a shaky breath. "There's no weapon, or anyone, just the slashes without reason."

"But she's still in the vision?"

"That's what I'm saying. It's like she's experiencing someone else's attack. As I'm watching, she arches and reacts as if being stabbed, then slashes appear in the blankets around her. Within seconds, blood appears and drips to the floor. Christ, Stefan." Brandt bent, dipping his fingers in a pool of blood. He rubbed his fingers together. "The blood is real. It smells real, and it feels real."

There was silence for a moment.

"How can she survive something like this?" Brandt needed Stefan's reassurance. That it wasn't forthcoming, made him more nervous.

"Is she breathing?"

Brandt, his heart racing at the thought, bent over Sam. "Christ, she'd better be." He checked her chest for the telltale rise and fall movement. There. Ever so faint. He placed his hand to hover above her mouth. Yes. A faint waft of air. "Yes, she's alive. But not by much."

"That's okay. The deeper her trance, the more her body vitals slow down."

Brandt checked her over again. The blood had settled in, staining the gray material to rust. The smell flared his nostrils – the same metallic smell he knew all too well.

"Can you see any damage to her body, or are we just talking blankets and blood showing?"

"Is it safe to touch her? Hell, Stefan, how many times have you pounded it into me not to touch you when you're in a trance?"

"Lift the blankets and don't touch her body."

"Why is it I can't touch her again?" Brandt stared at Sam, trying to figure out a safe corner of the blanket to lift without touching her body.

"You'll snap her connection to whatever energy she's attached to. She could stay over there, snap back here, or get caught somewhere in between."

Brandt winced. "Right." Working carefully, he shifted a corner of the blanket away from her shoulder to peer at her slight body below. A slice deep into her abdomen made his gut clench. He groaned softly, sadly. She was dying, and he'd done nothing to help her.

"Christ, her abdomen is split open."

Stefan's voice remained calm and patient. "That's fine. Is she still experiencing new injuries?"

"That's fine! What the hell, Stefan? She's dying."

"No, she's not. In about twenty minutes, she should be almost as good as new. Check again. Are new injuries still appearing?"

Brandt stared at Sam, trying to check all of her at once. After a moment, he answered, "I don't think so. I think that part is over."

"Good, the blood should stop seeping too."

"It will?" Brandt studied the welling blood. Relief washed over him. "Actually, it appears to be slowing."

"Good. She should wake up soon."

"Should? I need her to wake up now!"

"Don't touch her." Stefan's voice was sharp, leaving no room for arguing. "When she wakes, she could be groggy, disoriented, and possibly scared. Give her both time and space. Try not to startle her, just watch as she recovers."

"Right. I guess that makes sense." Brandt moved over and sat across from Sam. "I'll call you in the morning. Or in a few minutes if she doesn't wake up."

"She'll wake up. Trust a little more." Stefan hung up.

Brandt tucked away his cell phone, Stefan's final words ringing in his ears – time to recover and heal. The heal part blew him away. If she experienced the same physical damage as these woman, then no wonder she looked like she could use a good square meal. Her body had to burn calories at a horrific rate doing something like this.

Sam stirred. Brandt rushed over to her side. She rolled her head from one side to the next before coming to a stop. A deep heavy sigh worked its way up from her chest. She opened her eyes, ones that widened in shock when they landed on him.

"It's okay Sam. It's just me. Take it easy. Take your time."

Understanding seeped into those beautiful eyes before she closed them again, drifting off into a light resting state. She licked her lips and whispered in a voice so low he had to bend to her lips to hear it. "I'll be fine in a couple of minutes."

Soldier whined and flumped down at her feet protectively.

Brandt ran a hand through his hair, relieved to hear her talking, but having trouble with the concept that she'd could be okay that fast. Was that possible? He wouldn't be – how could she? He watched her carefully. Could she recover from something like this on her own – without a doctor? How? Did Stefan go through this as well?

In amazement, Brandt watched as the blood thinned and actually appeared to be less. He leaned forward. The droplets on the floor remained. The slices in the blankets remained. What about her? Getting up, he gently lifted the corner of the blanket and checked her abdomen. Even as he watched, the wound shrunk down. It was only a couple of inches long now. He shook his head. He'd never have believed it. And he was open-minded about this stuff. He couldn't imagine Kevin's reaction.

"Brandt?"

"I'm here, Sam. Take it easy."

"I'm almost there. Just another minute and I'll be good."

"Right. Like I'm going to believe that." He snorted and sat on the coffee table across from her, accidentally nudging Soldier who lay protectively in front of Sam.

Soldier lifted his head, his lip curling at Brandt.

Brandt glared down at him. Soldier glared back.

"No, I'm almost there. Wait, let me check." She lifted her head to look at him. And cried out in agony, her body curling into itself.

Instantly Brandt was at her side. "Jesus, Sam. What the hell?"

Sam gasped for breath her face slowly gaining color with the effort. "It's okay. Honest."

Frustrated, he fisted his hands on his hips. "How? How can this be okay?"

He crouched down beside her, reaching out a hesitant hand. He desperately wanted to give comfort, yet was scared of hurting her further.

She opened her eyes to stare at him again.

"Oh God, Sam." Brandt breathed her name almost in prayer. The depth of her suffering and pain hurt his soul. Her eyes had gone black from her agony.

Helpless, he could only watch. "I'm so sorry, honey. What can I do to help?"

A tiny smile peeped out. "Wait."

He didn't think he could do it. "Sweetheart, there is blood everywhere."

The smile disappeared as she shuddered once, then twice. "Always is."

Brandt sank into a crouch beside the couch. "God, how can you do this – day in and day out?"

Her answer, so succinct and so honest blew him away. "Easy. I have no choice."

3:48 am, June 20th

Sam found the shift through transition harder this time. Having someone watch while she healed and returned to normal reality wasn't exactly fun. Self-conscious or not, she couldn't move before it was time. Shifting her glance to catch Brandt's expression, she winced and stared up at the ceiling. Barely concealed horror still rippled across his face.

She closed her eyes. She couldn't help him deal with this. It took everything she had to deal with it herself.

The research she'd done said that blood rarely manifested in visions. But in special cases, people woke up with their hands or bodies stained with the stuff. For her, the blood appeared wherever the injuries manifested, but less blood than if she'd truly been the one attacked. Apparently, the amount of physical manifestations should decrease as she learned to control her gifts. She could only hope.

Gently, Sam swung her legs over the side of her couch and sat up. Feeling dizzy, she took several shuddering breaths before fixing her gaze on Brandt.

Wild eyes stared back at her. She couldn't blame him. This stuff came straight out of a horror movie. She wanted to curl up and hide in shame. She'd hoped he'd never see her like this. Never see her so exposed, so...freakish. She could only imagine what he thought of her now.

A few last tremors worked up her spine. It was almost over. Her eyes still burned, swollen and dry. Even her bones ached.

She focused on Brandt instead of the pain. His rumpled hair looked adorable – at total odds to his eyes. She glanced at the clock, yawning at the same time. It was close to four in the morning. He must have stayed all night.

She slid her gaze over him again. He still appeared shell-shocked. It said much about his perception. He'd never be able to accept this part of her. The pain from her vision was nothing to the sudden pain in her heart.

Brandt sat down suddenly. She studied his features. In truth, it looked like his belief system, his very foundation of existence had been ripped out from under him.

Sam couldn't handle any more. Tears of shame burned. Freak.

"Christ." Brandt's whispered words were a soft prayer for understanding.

Sam knew how he felt. She also knew her prayers had never been answered. "What's the matter?"

He snorted, rose, and reached to poke a finger through one of the many slices in the blanket covering her. "This is what's the matter." He stuck his fingers through a bigger cut and waggled them.

Confused, Sam watched emotions whisper across his face.

He stared at her. "Does this mean...?"

Her bottom lip wobbled and she nodded. "It means another woman has been murdered."

Hearing her own words broke the dam holding back the anguish in Sam's soul. Brandt sat on the couch and tugged her into his arms. Sam went. Hurt, she curled into his chest and let her tears pour. Brandt rocked her gently, her broken sobs so soft they could hardly be heard. The pain behind them could hardly be ignored.

Brandt hugged her tight.

After the worst of the storm had passed, Sam thought she heard him speak.

She shifted slightly to peer up at him, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. "What?"

"I'm sorry to have to do this. I need to ask you some questions while this is all fresh." His gaze glanced off the blanket. He shook his head in a daze. "About the victim, not so much the process – which I admit to having some trouble with." As his hand continued to stroke her sore muscles, he became lost in thought. After a moment, he tugged her close for a quick hug before setting her back slightly.

Holding back a few stray sniffles, Sam shifted into a more comfortable position and let herself relax slightly.

"What happened was in real time." Tears welled again. Sam struggled for control, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes. "The slashes you saw appear on the blanket and on my body were the same injuries the victim received. The blood and cuts to the blankets correlate to the victim's injuries."

Brandt started.

"Are you saying that you are stabbed every time the victim is stabbed?"

The tears slid from the corners of her eyes. "Yes." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"No." Brandt shook his head. "No one could survive those injuries. They can't be happening to you, because..." Brandt shifted enough to remove the blanket. "Because you're fine. You'd be dead if that had happened to you. Like those women are dead."

Teary eyed, and tormented by the poor woman's fate, Sam nodded. "You still don't understand." She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Recovery might have taken a while longer tonight, it had also taken all of her energy. She was exhausted.

Sam locked her gaze onto his. "In a way, I am exactly like those other women." A quiver ran down her spine, shaking her entire body. Wrapping her arms around her chest, she took a deep breath.