“You need proof.” Meg nodded, as though expecting it to come to this. She looked into her empty hands for a moment.
The doors to the room burst open and in flew Eloise, the housemaid. In her hands she held a large butcher’s knife. She ran right at the Senator, jumped up on the sofa and straddled his lap, the blade held in two hands high above her head. She held stock still, except the gulps of air she was taking.
“You see, Senator,” Meg looked up and smiled sweetly. “I may not be able to use my abilities on you with your psychic shield, but I can control everyone around you.”
The look on the Senator’s suddenly pale and pasty face was abject horror mixed with revelation.
Eloise stayed on his lap; knife poised above him as though awaiting orders.
“If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it just now. I believe in the powerful alliance we will make, Senator. Don’t you agree?”
Chapter 61 A Sterile Environment
Evan used his key to unlock the doors to the lab. The sterile scent of the air that greeted him as he opened the door made him smile—but only a little. This is what home smelled like to Evan.
His first step into the room triggered the motion sensor lights and by the count of three, the large space was illuminated brightly. Evan walked directly into the wash area to scrub in. He wasn’t the only person who used this facility, though he clocked the most hours by far. The washroom was as neat as a pin because Evan insisted on it. He had straightened the lax laboratory the first week he was there and everyone who knew him respected his level of professionalism, though they talked in hushed tones about the severe scarring on his left arm and hand. They had no idea the extent of the scarring, nor were they aware that he had lost feeling in that hand.
He tried to put it out of his mind, but he knew he would never be able to perform a surgery again. The bitterness he felt because of that truth was enough to make him want to take a scalpel to his hand out of desperation to feel something there. He thought about asking the hand surgeon at the hospital to help him. Maybe it was possible to reconnect the nerves, lessening the severity of the damage, but he decided against it.
What’s the use? he thought.
Besides, maybe the scars would be altered enough in the surgery that he wouldn’t be able to manipulate light waves as he could now. In the end, Evan wasn’t willing to risk it.
Walking to the lockers, he grabbed the knob on his combination lock and spun the dial automatically. The silent room seemed to startle at the loud clatter of metal on metal when he yanked the lock out and opened the door.
He slipped off his jacket and set his watch and keys on the hook. Still deep in thought, he reached around to the linen shelves and grabbed a set of light green scrubs. He stripped and dressed in the scrubs quickly in the cold space. Hospitals were notoriously kept cold to discourage the spread of bacteria and germs, but Evan knew there was a deeper reason.
They were cold because everything in a hospital was cold and logical. Within these walls Evan was safe in his rational, predictable world. In this world—he was in control. At least, that’s how it usually felt. Tonight was different.
Evan hung his clothing in the locker and slammed the door shut harder than he needed to. He looked down at his left hand as he slipped booties over his shoes. The glow had dissipated completely on the motorcycle ride to the hospital. All he saw now was his scars staring blankly back at him. His pinkie, ring and middle finger had their prints burned completely off.
He stood at the white sink and sighed, waiting for the water to run hot enough to sanitize. After a thorough scrubbing in the sink, Evan slipped into gloves, donned a cap and stepped on the sensor that opened the double doors into the sterile white lab.
He walked directly to the microscope to check his sample subjects. Satisfied that everything was progressing nicely, he moved on to watch four white rats scamper around their cage, excitedly awaiting their usual treat. Evan reached into the small refrigerator under the nearest counter and pulled out four red grapes.
The rats were climbing on top of each other vying to get the first grape. The one marked as “Specimen #2” got the first treat Evan slipped between the metal wires and happily started munching. The red juice immediately started to stain the white fur around his pink mouth looking eerily like blood. Evan’s smile at the creature’s excitement morphed into a scowl. He tossed the last three grapes through the top and walked away.
He had created a sort of workbench in the back corner of the lab where he spent half his time building. The lack of feeling in his left hand had taken some getting used to, and it still bothered him more than he would ever say, but he pressed on. His work had a time crunch and from his last check, he had even less time than previously thought. Besides, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the charade.