Healer (The Healer Series) Read online

  “He is dead!”

  “He’s not! I would feel it!” I wipe the rogue tear from my cheek.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I just would.”

  “Even if he is alive, he obviously doesn’t want you to find him.” Lucy looks away, as if she knows the emotion this will bring out of me.

  “I still have to.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why!”

  “No I don’t. Tell me.”

  “Why are you being this way?”

  “What way?”

  “Argumentative.”

  She grabs my arms and shakes me. “Because I love you!” She stares at me and I’m suddenly aware that Lucy’s eyes are different. They are dark and filled with something I can’t quite recognize. Something raw and deep. She releases me quickly and turns.

  I rub my arms and stare at her in stunned silence.

  “Please go home. Right now. Go home to your brothers,” she begs, still turned away from me.

  “I can’t.”

  “Well, I have to go.” She shakes her head like she’s frustrated.

  “I don’t want you to be upset with me.”

  “Aldo, come on. This is your inner turmoil. I’m just the face you have chosen to argue it out with.”

  “I know.”

  “Aldo. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. It’s time to wake up.” She vanishes right before my eyes and then there is darkness again.

  .

  three

  Past

  It didn’t take long for sleep to find me that night. Had I not been so exhausted from healing the young girl, my excitement to find out more information about Thomas may have prevented me from falling asleep.

  Thomas knew I was a healer. I couldn’t have denied it at that point. What he didn’t know, is the moment he touched me, I absorbed information from him. Of course, I wouldn’t know what information I absorbed from him until I fell asleep.

  I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow, and the darkness of my subconscious quickly transitioned into a field. The land went on forever, covered with waist-high red and purple wild flowers, leading into a sky of the most picturesque, beautiful shade of blue. I stole this scene from Montana. We lived there briefly when I was thirteen. A light breeze brushed against my long brown hair and the sun kissed my skin. I wore a baby blue sundress – why was I so dressed up?

  Why would I want to look nice?

  I pondered this a moment, but my train of thought was interrupted when I caught something in my peripheral vision. My stomach dropped and heat rose to my cheeks at the sight of him. Shock consumed me. I often created someone in my subconscious to help me sort through information, but usually it was either Lucy or one of my brothers. I couldn’t believe I had created Thomas to help me.

  He wore the same clothes, faded jeans and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His hair was dark and a little shaggy, and his skin olive toned.

  My mouth went dry as his gaze met mine and my heart did a back flip. We stood, locked in a silent stare, both refusing to be the first to look away, as if whoever broke first lost the power. Finally, he spoke.

  “Hey there, Killer,” he smirked.

  “Hey yourself.” I nodded.

  “Nice dress.”

  Heat flamed my cheeks and I turned away from him, embarrassed because it was my own subconscious complimenting me.

  “I didn’t get your last name earlier.” I tried to change the subject and find out what information I had absorbed from him.

  “Watson.”

  “So, you’re a healer?” I turned back to face him.

  “Yes, and so are you.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you mind if I sit down?” He glanced at the ground behind him and back at me.

  “Uh, no,” I replied, thrown again. I waved my hand and created a chair behind him. He turned and looked back to me surprised. “Sit.” I motioned. “Tell me about yourself, Thomas.”

  His eyes widened as if shocked, but he quickly transitioned. After taking his seat, he asked with a slight smile, “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything.”

  “I’m a healer. What else is there to tell?” He glanced around the field as he spoke.

  “Do you know others like us?” I stepped towards him.

  “My brother.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “It’s not important.”

  I glared at him. “It is.” I tried to tell my subconscious to stop playing games.

  His eyes immediately met mine. I wasn’t sure if he looked annoyed or impressed by my persistence. “Lucas.” He went back to inspecting our surroundings.

  “Anyone else?”

  “No.” He shrugged.

  “Where is your brother?”

  “You ask a lot of questions.”

  I was thrown by this as well. Why was my subconscious being difficult?

  “How long have you lived here?” I pressed on.

  “Not long. We move a lot.”

  “Why?” I asked curious as to what he would say.

  “You look young,” he observed, changing the subject.

  “Do I?”

  He laughed under his breath. “Tell me, do you move a lot, Aldo?”

  I couldn’t help, but enjoy the sound of my name coming out of his mouth. “Yes,” I replied after I regained my train of thought.

  “You move a lot to keep from being found, right?”

  I nodded.

  “You’ve never asked yourself from what?” His expression took on a look of pity as in, how could you be so stupid as to not know what you are hiding from.

  I thought about this for a second. Lucy always said we had to keep moving so we wouldn’t be found, but she never said from what. My heartbeat increased. Thomas noticed too. He glanced slightly to the right as if he heard something.

  As healers, we can tell when people begin to panic because their energy surges. My brothers and I were taught not to react to this. It exposes healers for what they are. I had never had this happen in a dream because usually the person I am using to work through information with is someone I know well and trust. In this case, I didn’t know Thomas.

  I walked to my board of points, where a picture of Thomas, a picture of what I assumed was his brother, and a black picture hung. Sometimes when I retain information, a black picture appears which indicates the information is something I don’t want to know or that my subconscious is having a hard time deciphering it. As I contemplated the black picture, Thomas joined me. His proximity to me was alarming. I felt a draw, almost magnetic, pulling me towards him.

  “That’s my brother.” He pointed and stared at the picture confused.

  “I know.” Why was my subconscious stating the obvious?

  “How?” He stuffed his hands back in his pockets, still staring at the board. He shifted slightly and stared at the ground, lost in thought for a moment, before he raised his head. “Which one do you think is better looking?” He nodded towards the pictures of himself and his brother.

  “Your brother,” I lied.

  “Ouch.” He produced a panty-dropping smile that made my knees buckle.

  Focus, Aldo.

  “Okay, I get all of this information now, but what have you given me here?” I spoke more to myself than to Thomas as I motioned my hand around the black photo.

  “Given you?” His brow furrowed as if confused.

  “Yes, you are only here to help me figure out the information I took from you.” I said annoyed at having to explain it to him as if he were real.

  “So that’s how you have his image?” he asked, as if he just figured out a riddle. “You got it through my energy, right?” He grinned, as if proud of himself for figuring it out.

  “So what’s the black?”

  “Hmmm.” His mouth curved slightly and he took a few steps back still staring at the board. “I tell you what. Meet me at Casa Grande at five
o’clock tomorrow. It’s that Mexican restaurant on Elm Street.” He turned away from the board, towards the open field.

  I laughed a little at my own subconscious. “Sure, see you there.” I waved. Now my subconscious wants to go out for Mexican.

  “Just be there at five.” He turned back briefly and winked. As he walked away, his image dissolved. What had just happened? I knew I brought him there. Had I somehow obtained information that he would be at Casa Grande and invited myself? Suddenly, it hit me.

  I fell to my knees. What an idiot I was. Thomas was in my dream not because I brought him there, but because he was actually there.

  But that’s impossible.

  The scene of my subconscious blurred as dizziness engulfed me. How could that be? Lucy never told me people could do that. The image of the field and the board disappeared, leaving me in darkness.

  After a couple of deep breaths, I forced myself up and began walking through what appeared to be a dark abyss, until a dim red light appeared in the distance. I reached the light to find a large man leaning over a woman lying on the ground. At first, I thought he was kissing her, but as I got closer, I realized he was nuzzling her neck. The woman was pale and her eyes were filled with defeat, lost in some distant place as if she had given up and succumbed to this man.

  Chill bumps covered my skin and every hair on my body stood on end, but I stepped closer, needing to see.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, but the man didn’t look up. A moment later the woman’s eyelids fluttered just before they closed. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?” I pulled his shoulder back. He flipped around and hissed at me. Dark eyes blazed with fierce rage fixated on me, but it was his face that made my blood run cold; porcelain white skin covered in red. My gaze fell to the woman, and I stumbled back. Her silk blouse clung to her body covered in blood.

  When I looked up, I saw Thomas. He stood on the other side of the woman holding a baby, staring down at her. I moved to step towards him, but the scene vanished almost as soon as I saw him and I was back in my field. My board appeared then, but the black picture was gone. In its place appeared one word. Vampire.

  .

  four

  Present

  When I open my eyes, I instantly try to figure out where I am. The last thing I remember is the sound of police sirens as I blacked out in the Quickie Mart, but now I lay in a bed with rails and the room is small. Jumbled voices talk outside the door, what sounds like a heart monitor beeps nearby, and phones ring in the distance.

  I’m in a hospital.

  Here I am in a hospital, the place a healer never wants to be. Try walking into a place that literally wants to suck the life out of you. I look to my left where my blonde wig sits on top of a bag, which appears to have my clothes in them.

  “Great,” I mutter under my breath. How the hell will I get out of here without having to talk to anyone?

  I peel the strips of medical tape off of my hand and jerk the IV out, wincing, realizing I have never had one before. After several attempts at lowering the bed rails, I give up and scoot to the end of the bed, and slowly slide my legs off the side. My bones ache with fatigue and I struggle to hold my nausea at bay. Using all of your energy to heal will do that. I feel very weak, but not too weak to get the hell out of here. I stand up and pull out my now blood-spattered jeans from the bag, and slide them on. Forget the underwear; going commando is okay in times of haste. I pull my sweatshirt on and assess the room. I didn’t have any identification on me last night so they wouldn’t know who I am. I never carry any. I decide to leave my other items as carrying a bag would make me stand out and slow me down.

  I reach in my back pocket and realize my cash from the night before is gone. Someone took two hundred dollars out of my pocket while I was unconscious? I check the other pocket and find they left my coupon for thirty cents off gum, so nice of them.

  I have to escape this hospital without anyone seeing me. I don’t want to get caught up in questioning with the police, plus I have no medical insurance. I creep to the doorway and peek out. A few nurses buzz around behind the desk in the middle of the hall, but none take notice of me.

  I bolt out of the room like a thief in the night, as fast as my legs will carry me. I make it to the elevators and push the button. In my current state, stairs might be too much for me. The doors open as slow as glacier’s ice melts.

  “Miss!”

  I look briefly in the direction from which the voice came. A nurse in pink scrubs stares at me as she closes the distance between us.

  Shit! The doors open enough for me to squeeze into the elevator, so I hop in and press the door close button a million times, which has absolutely no effect. In fact, I think it’s causing the doors to close more slowly. The nurse picks up her pace, but she’s a little husky, so she’s not trying too hard.

  “Miss, wait,” she calls again.

  The doors finally close an eternity later, just as she reaches the elevator. I inhale deeply as the elevator moves. Three floors down, the doors open to the lobby, and I make my way toward the exit where a security guard is stationed. I watch him for a brief moment to make sure he hasn’t been alerted to my escape, but he stands calm and relaxed, staring towards the exit.

  I have to touch him. This way, if someone alerts him of my escape and he tries to chase me, I can weaken him. I walk by him and fake a trip, bumping into him. Given my complete lack of coordination, it isn’t much of a stretch for me.

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” I smile and try to look embarrassed.

  “No worries.” He smiles back before his eyes drop to my blood stained clothing. I walk past him before he has a chance to speculate or ask questions.

  I’m halfway to the door when I hear someone call over his radio. When I glance back, our eyes meet, and he moves towards me. Time to trigger the pull. His energy surges through me like I’ve been injected with adrenaline. It only takes a minute, and he stops after jogging only a few feet, gasping for air.

  As extreme luck would have it, an elderly couple is vacating a taxi when I exit.

  They move away from the cab, slower than molasses, and I grab the door, hopping in.

  “Central and Bradford,” I pipe as I glance back to see if the guard has managed to gain on me. From where I sit, I can’t see him. Maybe he went to get some help.

  “My light wasn’t on,” the Middle Eastern man stammers through broken English.

  “I’ll give you two hundred dollars if you step on it.” I look through the window to see if anyone else is coming, but there is no one.

  “Deal.” He nods and we’re off.

  On the ride, I start ticking off a mental list of things I need to do next. The first thing I need is to get money, but my safe deposit box is at Bank of Richmond on Central and Maine. I will have the cabbie drop me about three blocks away in case the hospital has cameras that got his plates. I hate what I’m going to do to this man. I can literally hear Lucy’s voice in my head, “this isn’t the way you are meant to use your gift.” Followed with, “don’t roll your eyes at me, Aldo!”

  Guilt rises within me, but I push it aside, refusing to fall victim to it. He pulls up in front of a vacant office building with broken windows and spray painted tags on the door. I reach in my back pocket, like I’m pulling money out, and touch his shoulder with my other hand. I pull fast, a little too fast, because he passes out in under thirty seconds. His body slowly slouches, until his head meets the steering wheel with a thud.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper before climbing out.

  I snake my way towards my bank, through alleys of empty buildings and streets riddled with potholes that smell of rotten trash. Wait. I have no identification. Shit.

  I reroute and start jogging towards my apartment, which is about four blocks away in the opposite direction, when the heavens open and it starts to rain. Great. I slow down when I get closer to my apartment, looking for anyone who might be watching it, or cars that are out of place, but I don’t see an
ything or anyone alarming. Well, there’s a lot alarming about my neighborhood, but nothing out of the ordinary. I run up the three flights of stairs towards my apartment and pull up the slab of wood that is my top stair where a spare key is taped to the bottom. My apartment is the entire top floor so it seemed like a safe place to hide it. I open the door and see everything is in place.

  I run to my closet, strip off my soaked clothes, grab underwear and a bra out of the plastic tub that sits on my closet floor and slip them on. I throw on a gray jersey dress and a cardigan, a pair of long socks and my favorite red cowboy boots.

  On my tip toes, I grab my shoe box off of the top shelf, but the box slips from my hands as I pull it down, and crashes to the floor spilling its contents everywhere. Calm down, Aldo. No one knows who I am. I had no identification on me. Maybe I don’t have to run.

  I fall onto my air mattress. My family is safe and that is most important. Leaving and moving isn’t really necessary. I’m so close to finding Thomas, I can feel it. I try to relax and not let the previous night’s craziness plague my mind, but the vision of the woman, her coldness and complete lack of panic replays in my mind over and over. She had no energy; no pitches or vibrations. As I lay, tormenting myself with what ifs, I fall back into a deep sleep.

  .

  five

  Past

  I met Thomas at Casa Grande at five o’clock that evening. I couldn’t believe he was actually there. I went trying to convince myself he wasn’t in my dream, but he must have been.

  He waited for me in front of the restaurant, leaning against the brick wall, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, looking like a slice of heaven.

  As I walked towards him, I tried to ignore the way he examined me. I was fully clothed, but the way he stared at me made me feel as if he knew exactly what I looked like naked. I avoided looking him in the eyes, as this would surely render my feet useless, so my gaze fell to the unique tribal tattoo that trailed down his right arm. Interesting. The ink was black and lay perfectly over his muscular forearm. He was nothing less than gorgeous.