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The vibrations grew stronger, and she felt a choking sensation. She pushed harder, her body trembling as she struggled to control her magic. She felt a burst of sudden relief as the chakra flew open. Her body dropped away and she floated on a plane of blue.
The astral plane.
“Doctor?”
“I’m right here,” Carla said, and her doppelgänger body took shape. For reasons known only to the universe, a mirror-image body usually appeared with the subconscious on the spiritual plane. Perhaps because it was the only way the human mind could grasp the reality of this level of existence. But, in Carla’s experience, one body didn’t know what happened to the other in real time. For instance, if Josie’s body on the physical plane was hurt, her body on the spiritual plane wouldn’t know it. At least not until her subconscious returned to the body to “experience” it.
Josie appeared standing next to her. “I love this place.” As soon as Josie said it, a large green pasture opened up before them, dotted with grazing horses. They’d practiced creating these places that Josie loved.
A dot in the sky surprised Carla. She watched it soar closer until she could make out a huge eagle with wings spread majestically. Then it vanished. “Did you see the bird?” she asked Josie, wondering if the girl was adding to her dreams. Maybe the eagle signified freedom?
“No. Can I go ride the horses?”
“Of course. Your body on the physical plane is asleep already. This is your dream. You’re safe here, you control what happens.”
Josie smiled at her. “How do you make me feel so safe?”
“Magic,” she answered with a laugh. She took a quick glance around, but there was no sign of the eagle. Brushing it off, she said encouragingly, “Now go ride your horses.”
While the girl moved off, Carla kept a tight hold on her spirit, and began guiding all but the dreaming fraction of her spirit back to Josie’s sleeping body.
Dreams were actually a part of the spirit leaving the body and exploring other realms. The small portion of Josie’s spirit on the astral plane would return without a hitch once the girl woke up.
Returning to the physical plane, Carla settled back into her own body, feeling heavy and tired. It took a tremendous amount of energy to control the magic of her fifth chakra.
Josie was asleep where she sat, her face relaxed. Carla laid Josie down and covered her, while allowing herself to feel a moment of contentment. Carla hadn’t ever fit in anywhere, not with witches and not with scientists. But these young women needed her special combination of skills both as a witch and a psychologist. It validated her, gave her a place in the world where she belonged. She glanced at the bedside light and it went out. Then she turned and walked into the hallway.
Max leaned against the wall, holding a cold bottle of water. He handed it to Carla. “You might as well drink it. She’s not going to wake for hours now.”
Carla took the bottle.
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?”
Many times. “Josie wouldn’t have the chance to recover and live a full life if you hadn’t found her and gotten her out.”
He studied her, raising an eyebrow. “Same shirt and skirt you wore yesterday. You haven’t gone home. Let me get dressed and I’ll take you home now.”
“I’m fine. I have a change of clothes in my office.”
“You slept on the couch again.”
She drank down a gulp of the cool water, avoiding his gaze. “I worked late, and—” And she had nothing to go home to. The loneliness was a constant ache. Insomnia was bad enough, but when she slept, the nightmares caught up with her. The memory of the knives, the pain, the helpless terror …
And then the witch hunter who’d saved her.
Her dream always shifted then, the horror giving way to being touched and stroked and filled until she felt whole. When she woke, she was left aching for something that wasn’t real. Carla had spent her life trying to find a way to meld together the two parts of her psyche; the logical scientist and the emotional witch. Always pulled in two directions.
Max reached out, laying his palm on her bare arm.
The warm touch hurt her all the more because she didn’t feel the connection he wanted. She cared about him, but he didn’t stir her passion.
And if he ever found out she was a witch, he’d want to use her like her father had. She tried to smile. “Go back to bed, Max.”
He dropped his arm. “Try to get some sleep,” he said and walked away.
Carla took her bottle of water downstairs, ignored her office, turned left, passed through a dining room, and went to the small, walled courtyard. She keyed off the alarm system for the slider, then opened it and slipped out into the cool night.
She sat in the chair, propped her feet on the edge of the stone fountain. There were large pots of geraniums dotting the patio. Soft colored lights in the center illuminated the bubbling stone waterfall cascading down. The tiny sliver of moonlight barely touched her skin, but it was enough.
It fed her chakras, eased her exhaustion.
The faint scent of incense bloomed, then faded. It wasn’t real, she knew that. Every now and again, her grief manifested an image of eagles or the smell of incense—things that reminded her of Keri. It had been two years since her sister’s murder, and the grief, guilt, and regret still took up too much space inside her. She had to let Keri go, had to accept that her sister’s soul had gone on to her next life. The scar across her lower back, the one she’d gotten trying to save Keri, ached slightly. It was time to let it all go. She breathed deeply, drawing the cool damp night air into her lungs.
She was just releasing the air when her cell phone vibrated. Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled the phone out and opened it.
The image of her best friend, Darcy, stared back at her. “Carla, where are you?”
Darcy was using magic to project her image through the phone. Carla spoke to the picture. “The clinic. What’s wrong?” It was after two in the morning; Darcy wasn’t calling for a chat. “Is a witch missing?”
Darcy shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
Darcy and Axel had broken the thirty-year-old curse on the witches and witch hunters, making Darcy the most powerful witch they knew of. She was struggling to find her place among the witches, while her mate, Axel, led the Wing Slayer Hunters in their fight against rogues. Like the rogues who had killed Keri. So if Darcy wasn’t calling about a missing witch … “Then what is it?” Worry pulled tighter in her stomach.
Her face was troubled. “A woman shot Sutton tonight.”
Carla dropped her feet from the edge of the fountain, sitting up. Her skin tingled from her neck to her thighs—all the places that Sutton West’s T-shirt had touched her when he had rescued her from rogues. The dreams of him were making her restless, making her need something she couldn’t have. “Is he alive?”
Darcy’s brown eyes glinted with silver lights. “Yes. He’s fine, she missed his heart.”
Her own heart skipped a beat and caused her to struggle for her breath. Finally, she said, “Why did the woman shoot him?” Witch hunters gave off pheromones that attracted women. They used sex to help them fight down the bloodlust from the curse … did some woman want more from him somehow? Get angry or jealous? “Was it, uh, personal?” And why did that thought make her chest burn?
Darcy shook her head. “A rogue has been in her head, Axel is sure of that much. But he’s never seen this kind of thing before. He can’t tell if it’s brain damage from some witch hunter repeatedly shifting her memories or …”
“You think the rogues are trying to kill the Wing Slayer Hunters using a mortal woman?” Carla processed that. “Like some kind of mind control? Do the rogues have that kind of power?”
“We’ve never seen it, but I’m worried. We have the woman but she’s in shock. I can’t get much out of her. The rogues have been fairly quiet since Axel and the men took a stand against them. But this …”
She remembere
d the night Axel and his men destroyed the Rogue Cadre’s base of operations. She’d been there, strapped down on a table, her skin cut to disable her powers. Then Sutton had arrived, killing rogues until he got to her. He could have killed her, could have given in to the curse that made him sweat and shake with the craving for her blood. Instead he’d ripped the restraints off her and covered her with his shirt. Ever since that night …
Darcy’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “What if the rogues are reorganizing and using some kind of brainwashing on mortals? What if this woman isn’t the only one?”
“Bring her to me.”
“Too dangerous. The rogue would be able to track her and we don’t want them to find the clinic or the house you’re staying in.”
Carla couldn’t endanger their residents, Max, or any of them. She made a quick decision. “Where are you? I’ll come there.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
Prickles of unease skittered up her spine. “What do you mean?”
A large shadow passed overhead. Carla jerked her head up in time to see a huge creature with wings fill up the night sky. He swooped in, his gold and brown wings catching the moonlight as he shifted on the air current so that he landed on his feet a yard away from Carla. His wings spread across most of the courtyard. Then he lifted his wings up and folded them until they disappeared into the tattoo on his back.
Carla turned to Darcy. “No way, I am not flying!” She still couldn’t get used to the idea of a man with wings who could fly.
“You’ll be safer with Axel. Please, Carla. Let him bring you here.”
Carla turned to look at the man in question. He stood well over six feet, and without a shirt, his muscles gleamed in the moonlight. His wings ripped holes in his shirts, so he usually flew bare-chested. Lifting her gaze, she looked into his green eyes. “We could drive my car.”
He smiled. “We could try, but Darcy will magically disable it.”
Her curiosity outweighed her fear. She looked at Darcy. “You so owe me for this.”
They landed in the dirt in front of a rustic cabin built into the hills overlooking the ocean in Glassbreakers, California. It was a rugged piece of land that required four-wheel drive or wings to access. Carla didn’t need to ask which hunter this house belonged to. The rough finished logs, the beamed ceilings, and simple furniture reflected Sutton’s rugged side.
The man was complex and highly skilled—a self-taught computer expert. She’d learned that while disguising herself behind a crone avatar to help Darcy learn to control her powers. Sutton had found a way to track her down and learn her identity in spite of her magical cover. He was formidably smart, and followed no one’s rules. She knew he’d have a high-tech computer set up somewhere in this cabin.
Just walking into his house caused her skin to tingle with hyperawareness. Her self-diagnosis? She craved the man who could kill her. That was not a sign of a healthy mind. She had to stop thinking about Sutton and concentrate on the woman she came to see.
She followed Axel to the bedroom. It was large for a cabin. There was a big stone fireplace in the far wall, and next to that was the oversize chair Darcy sat in. Directly across from the bed was a sliding glass door that would let in the cool ocean breeze. On Carla’s right, a doorway led to a bathroom. Shifting her gaze, she looked down at the woman resting on the huge wood-framed bed. She was asleep. There were dark half-moons beneath her eyes and her cheeks had sunken into her bone structure.
Darcy said, “I’m surprised she fell asleep, she was so agitated. Kept saying she couldn’t believe she shot him.”
Carla lifted her gaze to Darcy. “Sleep could be an escape.” She’d seen it before.
“When I touched her, I got a sense of massive confusion. As if she couldn’t make sense of what she’d done.”
That could be a form of brainwashing but Carla needed more information. She looked at Axel standing by Darcy. “What did you find?”
“Definite memory-shifting by a rogue, but something more, too. The way we shift memories is to go through the optic nerve to the short-term memory. But I felt a web of pathways opening up so I pulled out. I didn’t want to do more damage.”
After watching her sister and friends murdered by rogues, Carla had been terrified by all witch hunters. She hadn’t realized how many of them were fighting against this curse that tortured them. Her respect went up another notch. Even though this woman had shot Sutton, Axel had been careful not to hurt her. They all had. Which made her finally ask the question that had been burning on her mind. “Where is Sutton? Did you heal him?”
Rolling her eyes, Darcy said, “Eventually. A mortal getting the drop on him made him a little testy.” Her tone indicated that that was an understatement. “He’s out there somewhere.” She lifted her hand to the darkness beyond the sliding glass door. “Looking for any rogues that might be trying to track our guest here. He’s standing guard, but he can’t be too close.”
To her. With Axel and Darcy soul-bonded now, they were both free of the curse. Although still a witch, Darcy’s blood didn’t incite the lust for Carla’s power-laced blood that was the case with other witches. But it made Carla feel better, safer, to know Sutton was out there. He wouldn’t let a rogue sneak up on them. She shuddered at the thought, then said, “Let’s get started then. Do you know her name?”
Darcy said, “There was no identification on her, but she said her name was Pam when I asked.”
Carla dropped her gaze to Pam. She looked tiny on the massive bed, her green dress too bright against the simple chocolate-colored comforter. Carla took a deep breath and opened her first four chakras with a series of small pops. Her elemental powers releasing created a swirling sensation inside her stomach. Then she focused on the fifth one and realized how very tired she was as she tried to force a stream of magical pressure against her communication charka. Her throat tightened and vibrated until finally, the chakra released. As her powers mixed, a hum rose inside of her.
“Is she all right?”
It was Axel’s voice.
“Yes. It’s hard to control the fifth chakra power without a familiar and it’s taking a tremendous amount of will to do it.”
Carla heard Darcy’s answer, but she just let it flow over her. She was concentrating on keeping the communication chakra open, keeping the powers mixed just right so she could put Pam in a hypnotic state and lead her to the astral plane. Finally, she opened her eyes, then focused her powers down her arm. Gently, she reached her hand to the woman’s shoulder. She felt the immediate suction against her fingertips, which created the link with the woman’s spirit so that Carla wouldn’t lose her on the astral plane.
The physical world dropped away and they appeared on the endless, formless blue of the spiritual world. “Pam, you’re going to wake up now and be calm. You’re safe. Everything you remember will feel as if it’s far away from you, as if you are watching it in a movie. Open your eyes.”
Pam’s eyelids lifted slowly. “Where am I? Who are you?”
Her voice was calm and untroubled in her hypnotic state. “I’m Dr. Carla Fisk, and you’re safe in the astral plane. Nothing can hurt you here. Right now, I’m talking to your subconscious, the part of your brain that you are often unaware of, but it’s always there.”
“Am I dead?”
“Absolutely not. You are very much alive and I’ll take you back to full consciousness on the physical plane any time you like.” Carla never lied to her patients, and always made sure they felt like they had control in the session. It was the only way to gain their full trust.
“It’s nice here. I don’t feel guilty and ashamed.” She looked around at all the endless blue, then turned back to Carla. “No one is trying to kill me here, right?”
Hmm, Carla thought, paranoia. “You’re safe here. What’s your name?”
“Pam Miller.”
Carla smiled. “Tell me a little bit about yourself, Pam.”
“Uh …” she trailed off. “
I am, uh, I work at a hair salon.”
Carla felt a backwash of anxiety tightening her stomach and throat. If Pam had been awake, this question would upset her. “Oh, do you like cutting hair?”
“I … don’t know.”
Carla kept leading her. “What about your family?”
“I’m not allowed to see them. Or I don’t want to see them?” She frowned. “Why don’t I remember?”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“I shot that man at the club. I can’t believe I did that. He didn’t seem like he was going to kill me. He was nice. But I had to shoot him … didn’t I?”
Pam’s physical body was backwashing more agitation and confusion. Her subconscious knew something was wrong. “Tell me about the guilt and shame you mentioned.”
“I thought I’d feel relief if I shot him. But I felt horrible. I couldn’t believe I did it.”
“We’re going to figure this out together,” Carla said gently, but she was dead sure the woman had been brainwashed. Her uncertainty about who she was indicated that someone had tampered with her individual sense of self, which was why Pam didn’t know if she liked her job or what she cared about. Separating her from her family and support system created a desperate dependence on the brainwasher. Who was it? “You’re doing wonderfully, Pam. Can you tell me who you spend a lot of time with?”
“Styx.”
“Is that a man? Or a woman? A child?”
“A man.”
“Good.” Carla had to focus to keep her fifth chakra funneling into her voice and into Pam. She knew she was getting closer to answers. “Is Styx a first name or last name?”
“Just a name. It’s all I know.”
He was being careful not to give Pam too much information. “What happened yesterday? Did you wake up at Styx’s house?”
“Yes.”
“What happened then?”
“He told me that I had to prove myself to him or he wasn’t going to let me be his girlfriend anymore. I would have to leave and go back to the people who hate me and want to kill me.”