I began to protest, but Dr. Skinner raised his hand. “At least until you make a decision. You need to choose freely without any distractions.”
I agreed, but that was three days ago and now, as I sat on the gray couch in my apartment, flipping through mindless TV channels, I thought of Lucien and wondered what he was doing.
I’d gone back to see Lucien a few times while Charlie was gone. Lucien never did much. He was always looking into the distance, but I was never sure at what. And during all this time, he’d only fed twice, and each time he seemed to know his victim.
On my last visit, I’d followed him while he dragged a dead body to an alleyway where he opened a rusted manhole and dropped the body inside. Afterwards, he’d leaned against a brick wall of a warehouse doubled over in pain. His suffering had been difficult to watch.
I glanced down at the time on my cell phone. Almost ten o’clock. Charlie was returning today, but he wouldn’t be back at the Deific until noon. I had enough time.
Sleep came easily. I materialized in a dark, run-down bar that reeked of grease and beer. A few people sat separate from each other, heads down while they held theirs drinks protectively. No one spoke, each of them too wrapped up in their own problems to care about anyone else’s.
I couldn’t see Lucien anywhere, but knew he had to be close. When the door to the bar opened, letting in a blast of cold air, I stepped through it before it closed. The sun’s morning light was just beginning to touch the sky, pushing back much of night’s darkness. I loved this time of day. It was a reminder that no matter how bleak my work seemed, dawn would always come.
Ignoring the people around me, I stood on a sidewalk in front of a long row of buildings. Across a street that was just beginning to get crowded with morning commuters was a children’s hospital. I looked around, eventually spotting Lucien not far from its entrance. I moved to be near him, the feeling of peace and serenity growing with each step, but was momentarily distracted by a mother and small boy walking out of the hospital. The boy was shouting and fighting against his mother who held him tightly, but her soothing words did nothing to calm him. He must’ve kicked her hard, because suddenly she dropped him, and he bolted into the street and in front of an oncoming car. An instant before the car smashed into the boy, Lucien appeared, shoving him out of the way. Instead, the car crashed into Lucien, and he flipped up and over the hood, his body shattering the windshield.
The mother rushed to her son, who was crying even louder now, while I bolted for Lucien. I rounded the car to the driver’s side, but when I got there, Lucien was gone. The driver opened his door, and he, too, glanced around for the man he knew he had hit.
I looked up and down the streets. There were several alleys—one in particular drew my attention. It was about one block up and partially concealed by a shipping truck. I jogged over to it.
As I suspected, I found Lucien sitting on a wooden crate with his jacket off. His torn sleeve was pulled up around his bicep and very carefully he was removing shards of glass from his bloodied arm. His wounds healed almost immediately.
I stood in front of him, wishing he knew that I was there and had witnessed what he’d done.
One last large piece of glass protruded from his forearm. He moved to take it out, but his hand stopped and hesitated above it. Instead of removing it, he suddenly slammed his fist on top forcing it deeper into his arm. He threw his head back in pain, but did not cry out. His eyebrows tightened and his jaw muscles bulged.
I stared in horror. I had no idea his self-torture went as far as this. My gaze lowered to the embedded glass in his arm, and I concentrated hard. Using my feelings toward him to invoke magic, I imagined the shard of glass sliding out of his arm. Lucien jumped when he felt it begin to move. I concentrated harder. The glass broke free from his flesh, and I mentally tossed it to the ground.
Lucien glanced around, his expression a mixture of anger and surprise. I was glad. I wanted him to know that someone was watching over him. Hopefully this would make him think twice before he decided to hurt himself again.
It was my turn to be surprised when Lucien, his voice full of hatred, growled, “Leave. Me. Alone.”
“Lucien?” I asked as if he could hear me.
“Leave me now, or I swear I will find you and rip your heart out!”
Frightened by his sudden hostility, I obeyed.
Chapter 38
“How was your trip?” I asked Charlie, who seemed surprised to see me waiting for him in his office. After I’d woken from being with Lucien, his office was the only place I wanted to go. Maybe it was where I felt safest.
Charlie dropped his suitcase and removed a black leather jacket. “It was horribly successful.”
“What’s that mean?”
He dropped into his chair as if he was exhausted. “Bad things are happening, Eve.”