She paused momentarily at Pogue’s door, her hand resting on the doorknob but hesitating as she deliberated on whether or not to risk looking in on him and finding him awake. If she did, he’d more than likely want her to spend the night with him. She wanted to. She wanted him to hold her and help her forget everything that just happened. But the other side of the matter was that she also felt like she should be alone for a while. Besides, if she went to Pogue, he’d know immediately something was wrong. She couldn’t chance that. So, she moved on down the hall, her mind as shaken as her body.
Amelia walked into her dark room and closed the door. The first thing she did was turn on the light. She felt afraid of the dark, like it could hold more dangers that she just couldn’t handle right then. Light was better- safer. Especially if Caleb came up to her room…
She pushed that thought aside and slid once more out of her clothes, climbing warily into the large bed and hiding her body deep underneath the heavy covers. The silence that encompassed her was nerve-wracking. She expected to hear more screams, more cries of pain. They were no longer safe in Caleb’s house, the one place the young man had insisted would be a safe haven for them. She wasn’t even safe from Caleb.
What he had just done spun her mind into a whole new dimension of utter bewilderment and anxiety. She had never thought for one second that Caleb- *her* Caleb- could be capable of the act he had just committed. He had removed her clothing first and then his own, before “taking what he wanted”. The part of her that only saw the good in people kept pressing that Caleb was just undergoing an extremely stressful and grievous experience, that he needed to feel that type of intimacy with her- that closeness that perhaps he felt he was detached from with the death of his mother. His emotions had been raw, unstable- she knew that from what her abilities picked up on from him.
Although every part of her that had the tenacity to fight and accuse that what he was doing was wrong, she didn’t stop him. Truth be known, she didn’t know what he would have done to her if she had forced him off of her. He was obviously stronger than her, and that look in his eyes was so severe, intent. It had a purpose. She had a feeling that if she deterred him from that purpose, that he might make her regret it. So, to keep Caleb from hurting at rejection and the aftermath of the potential physical pain he might inflict on her, she let him claim her body once more- something he had always vowed he’d never do again in respect for her and Pogue’s relationship. After he was done, he had kissed her, rolled over and fallen asleep almost immediately, which relieved her more than struck her odd. She had snuck out of the room after putting her skirt and top back on, leaving the room like a shamed mistress.
Wrapping her body up in the covers like a cocoon, she closed her eyes tightly as the memories of his urgent, impassioned acts only one floor below her raced through her mind. She wouldn’t lie, it had felt good. It brought back the memories of being with him the first time, or what she could remember of it while she had been in that disoriented haze. Despite her internal protests, it did bring her pleasure- so why did it hurt so much now?
One thing was certain- she would never tell a soul about what transpired between her and Caleb only an hour ago. She wasn’t sure if Caleb would bring it up again, but a part of her prayed he wouldn’t tell Pogue. That would do no one any good, least of all Pogue. She knew she wouldn’t tell him. Whether or not Caleb opened the topic for debate with her or not, it would remain a secret that Amelia would lock up and never let out.
Some things were better left under lock and key. She repeated this to herself over and over, trying to convince herself of it as her mind and body forced her into reprieved slumber.
-----------------------
Caleb’s eyes snapped open, at first unable to adjust to the pitch blackness of the room. Where was he?
He sat up slowly and looked around, waiting for his eyes to pick up on his surroundings. He first became aware that he was in bed, but it didn’t feel like his own…and he was naked. Caleb reached over and turned on the lamp next to the bed and bathed the room in warm light. He was in his mother’s room.
Still disoriented, he let his eyes move slowly throughout the large bedroom. They fell onto the closed door of her private bathroom and stopped. Then his memories came flooding back to him. His mother was dead. He was on his own, the last Danvers alive…
No, wait, that wasn’t right. Immediately his hand reached out to the bare pillow next to him, where a slight indentation was still settled in the plush material. Amelia. Amelia had been here with him, and they had…
“No,” came the vocalized realization, as images of him stripping her body bare of her clothing flashed through his mind. She had protested, told him ‘no’…and something inside of him had shoved him over the edge where her words no longer mattered. He had taken what he wanted from her…and she hadn’t fought him.
Caleb blinked at that realization. He numbly contemplated the reality that he had essentially raped the girl he loved, and she hadn’t pushed him away; she hadn’t used her Powers on him or called out for help. Why? His right mind knew she should have. She should have fought tooth and nail to get away from him when he had been acting like that. Like an animal- like a savage man who only had one goal- want, take, have. Unless…
Unless she had really wanted it.
If deep down inside she craved him as much as he had craved her, perhaps that would have dissuaded her from fighting it. No…he shook his head. She had blatantly said ‘no’, there was no mistake about that. He remembered his junior high years, when they were taught during Sex Ed that “no means no”. Jesus…how could he *do* that to her? And where was she now?
He let his head drop down into his hands as his current decline into the darkness that might not be able to pull himself out of, continued. So many things went through his mind. What had become of him lately? He had fought his best friends in a battle of Powers, he had tortured Aaron for information, he ultimately betrayed Pogue for feeling as he did about the girl that was meant to be with the younger boy, and he had just committed the most unforgivable act. Forcing himself upon the girl that meant so much to him. She was the last female he held dear to his heart, and the cruelty that went through him- wherever it came from- just jeopardized his closeness with her. He needed her now, especially as comfort with his mother gone. So how could he have gone and let something like that happen?
Looking at the clock, he debated on whether or not he should go to find her and talk to her- try to explain. He didn’t know what he’d say; he had no explanation for it. That wasn’t *him*. He prayed that she knew that, that she didn’t think he had gone just as cold as the world around them was turning out to be. He wanted to be there for her and their unborn son, he wanted to be next to her every step of the way, but how could she let him near her now when he had violated that comfort and trust that was so sacred between them?
No, talking to her now- even to just make sure she was okay- was not the best thing to do right then. He’d wait, and try to figure out what came over him. Until he could understand why that evil side of him emerged- to her, of all people- he wouldn’t get near her. For her own safety. Besides, he did have his own safety to worry about now should Amelia tell Tyler, Reid or- God forbid- Pogue. He wouldn’t blame her for confiding in them, nor would he blame any of his friends for wanting to tear him limb from limb for his thoughtless actions. If he could punish himself, he would…
“I knew this time would come.”
Caleb’s head snapped back up at the out of place voice, that didn’t belong to anyone presently in the house. He saw the silhouette of a man, slightly shadowed, walking towards him with a very judgmental and arrogant air surrounding his form. He knew immediately who it was, and forced himself to stay put, unless he wanted to end up dead like Mr. Parry or his mother. Perhaps that was the best solution. Nothing ached more than the knowledge he had hurt Amelia.
The figure stopped a short distance from the foot of the bed, just staring at Caleb a long moment before speaking.
“You all hold her so precious, and yet you can still make her bleed. What hope is there for you now? She’s already corrupted, but you, Caleb Danvers, you stink of a darkness that I have not yet seen in any of you. Perhaps you will be the first to fall.”
Caleb swallowed hard, actually feeling vulnerable instead of defensive against the spirit. After all, Stoughton had asserted his Power quite clearly earlier that day. His Power was dormant, hardly igniting a spark that he could grasp for all of the rage and anger he knew still resided inside of him, deep down. There was only one thing he had to know.
“My mother. Did you kill her?”
This elicited a chuckle from the spector’s mouth as he observed the young man, half covered, in the bed before him.
“Which answer do you wish to hear? The last thing I want to do is ease your mind. Perhaps I took her life as a warning, to prove that I’m not here to judge just *you*.”
“What are you talking about?” Caleb quickly asked, somewhat relieved when he felt the familiar flickering of his inner energy starting to move inside of him once more.
“You thought I was just here to rid the future of your family lines? Oh, no, my dear boy. There are far too many corrupt wrong-doers in this world to let them continue to go through their measly lives without judgment. Your families, for example. By merely associating with you, they have tarnished their souls against God. Wayne Parry, the Sims family, Mr. and Mrs. Strong, your mother…”
Something inside of Caleb snapped at the mention of his mother and Caleb bolted out of bed, his eyes as black as night as he coiled up his Power to lash out at Stoughton. But before he could utilize it, it felt like there was a wall that came crashing down between them, blocking his attack from reaching Stoughton. Caleb roared in anger as he realized that he couldn’t touch the man with his abilities, and instead moved forward to assault him physically. However, Stoughton reached out and grabbed Caleb by the throat, holding the boy immobile. Stoughton’s dark eyes just bore into Caleb’s, menacing and vindictive as he continued speaking, as though he had never been interrupted.
“I initially planned on starting with you and your heirs, but then I realized that the best plan of attack would be to weaken your spirit by doing away with your families. Why should they go unpunished for fostering your sick disease?”
Caleb grimaced as the vice-like grip the spirit had on his neck tightened, blocking his air supply. He tried to call to his Power, but with the lack of oxygen becoming a prime losing factor of his focus, he couldn’t draw it out.
“Therefore, I will continue with my revised plan of taking away everything dear to you all before giving you and your comrades the ultimate gift…the release of suffering and pain. Death.”
With that, Stoughton released Caleb and let him drop to the floor. He slapped his hands together and let out a satisfied sigh. “I do so love a captive audience.”
Caleb coughed and choked as he tried to get his breathing regulated again, his lungs and airways burning with a fire he’d never felt before. When his vision cleared once more, he realized that Stoughton was gone.
He quickly got to his feet and yanked on his boxers and pants and grabbed his t-shirt, fastening his belt on the way out of the bedroom. He hurried upstairs and straight towards Amelia’s door. Opening it, he looked in just long enough to see her lying huddled under the covers of her bed- seemingly alone. Good. He did the same thing with Reid, Tyler and Pogue, looking in to make sure they were all in their beds and safe.
With that confirmation he turned and went back downstairs and towards his father’s study. The next thirty minutes he perused pensively through the journals of his family and his father’s private writings. His father’s journals weren’t much in quantity and quality because of James Danvers’ distaste for writing everything down- despite how it would help future generations…if there was going to be any at this rate.
After he found what he was looking for, Caleb packed them into a bag and slung the carrying strap over his shoulder and headed for the front door, stopping long enough to retrieve his coat. He got into his Mustang and sped away from the house and its occupants.
As the house disappeared in his rearview mirror, Caleb accelerated. He knew what he needed to do- for his mother, Amelia, and his friends. Playing it safe would not work any more. Sacrifice could not be ignored. If they were to take down the malevolent spirit, they would need help.
And Caleb was prepared to do the forbidden to get it.
--------------------
The first person to rise the next morning was Dr. Strong, who was downstairs searching through the refrigerator for something to eat when the doorbell rang. The sun had only been up in the sky for a half hour since she had awakened, her husband showering and preparing for the day as she had gone downstairs to find breakfast.
She placed the grapefruit she found on the counter before going to the door to answer it, a part of her almost hesitate to open it. Peeking out the decorative glass that bordered each side of the front door, she made out Glenn Sims, which relaxed her mentality enough to not hesitate in opening the door.
“Mr. Sims, good morning.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Glenn Sims replied, his expression dour and serious as he walked in, shedding his coat as she closed the door behind him. “How is Caleb?”
“I haven’t seen him yet this morning. I assume he’s still sleeping, as are the rest of the kids. How are Marlene and Samantha?” she inquired, walking with him down the entry way towards the wide doorway that led off towards the dining room and kitchen. “Tyler’s quite concerned about his family.”
“They’re fine, they were having breakfast when I left. Marlene is taking Samantha to Rowley for some shopping and other female pastimes. I think she feels safer out of Ipswich.”
Elizabeth paused, looking earnestly at Tyler’s father. “I realize there is a lot you won’t tell my husband or myself, issues that involve my daughter. I don’t like the fact that dangerous matters are well beyond our realm of knowledge, but I can’t help but have the feeling that you all think it’s for the best. Am I right?”
Glenn nodded, his hands moving to his pants pockets. “In this situation, the less you know about this, the better. You’d be safer going home, but I doubt you’ll do that, will you?”
“Not without Amelia,” Elizabeth replied, not missing a beat. “My husband agrees wholeheartedly with this. Would you leave your child in a place where strange things are happening, people have died, and you fully realize there are secrets being kept?”
The man’s expression softened at her words. He knew exactly where she was coming from, even though he had been in the know about most things most of his life. He had to admire her parental instincts, and her husband’s.
“No, I can’t say that I would. I understand, Dr. Strong-“
“Elizabeth, please.”
“Elizabeth. What’s best for you and what you feel you have to do, do not always coincide. I do believe, however, that you should discuss this with Amelia. Let her have a say. Perhaps she can shed more light on a few things for you.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, her hands moving to her hips. “Amelia is as tight-lipped about all of this as you are. She’s never kept things from us before, so this is a bitter pill we’re being forced to swallow.”
“I do apologize for that. No one should be pulled into this world like this...especially when nothing can be done to change things.” Glenn’s eyes turned glassy a moment before he refocused on the woman standing a couple of feet from him. “If we could change our fates, everything would be different.”
Amelia’s mother quirked a brow at what she felt was an odd response to her parental concerns. “What do you mean by that?”
“I wish I could tell you.”
“Ah, more cryptic. You’re lucky that I won’t press this issue…but I can’t say the same thing for Alan. When it comes to his family, he’s very protective. That also rings true to those who are close to his family. We realize how important these boys are to Amelia, although we must admit we’re a little confused as to how they fit in her life. And I’m not blind- I do notice things.”
Glenn’s own eyebrows rose at her words. “Meaning…?”
“Yesterday, at mealtime. I noticed how the boys were looking at Amelia- like she was…well, the greatest thing since sliced bread. While I’m flattered that she had gained so much attention from such well-intentioned young men, it’s also disconcerting.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about that, Elizabeth. Again- all good things to bring up with your daughter. So the boys are still sleeping?”
Elizabeth pushed her wavy hair away from her ear and nodded. “I haven’t heard a sound from upstairs, expect from the guest room Alan and I are occupying. It’s all quiet, but then again, they had an extremely devastating day yesterday.”
“Yes.” Glenn cleared his throat softly and began to back up towards the study door. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take this opportunity to make some funeral arrangements. I feel I’m going to have my work cut out for me with Evelyn’s death, as well. I never saw that coming.”
“Yes, you do what you need to do. I’m going to be in the kitchen, and as soon as I see Tyler, I’ll send him your way.” Elizabeth turned and headed back to get some food in her newly-churning stomach as Glenn went to get the wheels rolling on Wayne and Evelyn’s funeral preparations. The pain he felt at burying two people he had known for years stung him deep inside, as fresh as it had felt when it had happened. He could only pray no one else would join them in death. There was only so much a person could take, and as far as Caleb and Pogue were concerned, the end was probably already in sight.
--------------------
Tyler awoke from a restless night’s sleep, just to look at the clock and curse. It read nine a.m., but he was far from ready to rise and shine. Shine was something that just wasn’t in the cards that morning. He really wished that rising wasn’t either, but he knew he should get up to check on Pogue- just in case the others were still fast asleep.
With sluggish movements he made it out of bed and towards the adjacent bathroom, washing his face with cold water to snap him out of his tired daze. The shock of the chilled water didn’t have the effect he was hoping for, as he was just as slow to get dressed and head down the hallway towards Pogue’s room.
He rapped once on the door before he stuck his head in, just in case Amelia was in the room with Pogue and less than decent. When he got no response, he slowly turned the knob and poked his head in. Pogue appeared to be alone in his bed, but his position on the piece of furniture gave Tyler the chills.
Pogue was eagle spread on the bed, his hands and feet parallel with each bedpost. His lower half was still covered, and his placement was identical to how the boys had found him underground when he had been at Stoughton’s mercy. Tyler’s eyes moved to his face, where he saw a relaxed façade.
Had he moved into this position in his sleep? It was disturbing, to say the least, but it didn’t appear as if the teen was in any kind of distress. To be safe, though, he thought it would be best to wake him up.
Being extra cautious as to not shake him too firmly, Tyler nudged his friend’s arm, saying his name at the same time.
Pogue didn’t move a muscle.
Tyler tried again, and this time Pogue came awake with a start, bolting upright and turning on his friend. Tyler quickly stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender.
“Hey, it’s just me. Good morning.”
Pogue’s eyes were wild and disoriented as he tried to focus on his surroundings and the person that had brought him out of sleep. It had been peaceful, the first peaceful sleep he had had for a long time. Now he was somewhere else, and trying to remember what had happened. Stoughton had tortured him, his friends had saved him, his father was dead. Yep, he was caught up.
“Tyler…you lookin’ to lose a hand or something?” he inquired, his voice still gruff with sleep as he tried harder to focus on the boy next to the bed.
Tyler almost looked sheepish at the question. “Sorry for wanting to make sure you’d wake up- my mistake.”
Pogue groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “No need to be smart ass. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, as far as I know. It’s morning, I don’t think anyone else is up yet so I came to check on you. How are you feeling?”
“Like someone tried to kill me.”
He shot his friend a droll stare. “Very funny- curb the humor, please?”
“Sorry. Are you going to let me out of this bed today?”
“It’s not really my call- it’s the resident physician’s. I’m sure Caleb will come check on you as soon as he’s…” Tyler’s voice carried off as he realized that their leader might not even be thinking about Pogue at the present time. “I’ll make sure he does. Truthfully, though, do you feel better?”
Pogue sighed, raking his fingers back through his tousled hair, which needed a serious shampoo and conditioning. “I do. I’m still a little sore, but do you think I’m going to let that asshole keep me down for long?”
Tyler hesitated before asking his next question. He didn’t want to push his friend, but knowing Pogue’s state-of-mind at the current time was important. “And how are you coping with the other kind of pain?” He followed up his question with a meaningful look, his hands moving to settle on his waist.
“I’m not grieving, Tyler. I’m not Caleb. I didn’t grow up with my parents always there and with all of these warm, happy memories in my mind. You know what kind of memories I’m keeping. Anger, bitterness, and I’ll admit it- even the slightest bit of hostility,” he finished, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
“But…”
Pogue gave him a severe look that told him to back off as he went on. “I’m not going to mourn my dad, Sims. What is there to mourn? A lazy, drunken S.O.B. who liked to take out his frustrations with life on me. I’m not a sob story, but that’s the frickin’ truth of it. Yeah, he made my conception possible. He didn’t kill me while he was stuck with me after forcing my mom to run for the hills when I was barely a teenager, although sometimes I think he wanted to. Have I heard from her since? No. Is it his fault? Yeah. Did he make it possible for me to be physically here right now? Maybe, so you guys say. I’m sorry if I still find that kind of hard to believe. Call me a skeptic, but he never showed me kindness in the past, why the hell start a few hours before you die?”
How in the hell was Tyler supposed to respond to that? He knew his friend always had malice towards his father, while Reid just went on acting like his didn’t exist. Neither way could be healthy, but they were entitled to feel that way. It had always been so much harder for Tyler to grasp coming from a family situation where his father- while not always up front with him about the topic of The Power- was always there for him…even when he wanted to be somewhere else.
“I don’t know, Pogue. I’m not here to plead your father’s case, you knew him better than any of us. Whether or not you grieve him is completely up to you, I’m not your conscience. Just know we’re here, so is Amelia.”
“Thanks, Jiminy Cricket. But as you can plainly see,” Pogue swept his arm across the bed, “she’s not here.”
“I know, I’m a little surprised at that. I expected to walk in on you two getting horizontal, but you proved me wrong. She probably didn’t want to wake you after she talked Caleb down. As usual, that girl did the trick.”
Pogue let a faint smile touch his lips at his girl’s ‘magical touch’. “Yeah, she’s gifted that way. Thanks for taking such good care of her while I’ve been…tied up.”
Tyler snorted at the choice of words. “You’ll be happy to know that none of us got anywhere with her while you were gone.”
“Good. There’s been too much death lately, and if that had happened…I’d have to kill the guilty party.”
One look at the teen’s face told Tyler that he meant that statement.
-----------------------
Amelia quietly descended the stairway, heading for the main level of the house. She had herself wrapped up in an oversized, plush navy robe that she found in the closet in her room. It covered her from neck to ankle, which was the kind of security Amelia felt like she needed while she dealt with the vulnerability from the prior night’s events.
She was skittish. She didn’t see anyone as she walked, but she was afraid of encountering Caleb with every step she took towards the dining area.
She was dying of thirst.
As she padded into the large kitchen with still bare feet, she stopped short at the doorway when she noticed who was standing at the counter, making a bowl of oatmeal.
Elizabeth turned her head just in time to see her daughter’s blonde head disappear around the corner. Setting down her spoon, she quickly hurried after her.
“Amelia?”
Amelia stopped in the middle of the dining room, her back to her mother. She was afraid to face her. Her mother always knew when something was wrong with her daughter, at least when she was in her right mind, anyway. With how chaotic Amelia’s emotions were at present, she knew instinctively that her mother would begin firing questions her way…and she felt the same way she did before she forced herself into sleep last night. She couldn’t answer them.
“Is something the matter? I mean, besides the obvious?” Elizabeth slowly walked up to her daughter, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her so she could see her face. Amelia avoided her eyes, which was very unusual for the teen. Elizabeth never knew her daughter to not be able to meet her gaze.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m just not feeling the greatest,” Amelia mumbled, forcing herself to look up at her mom, who stood only three inches taller than herself. What she said was the truth, albeit it was a rather vague answer. It wouldn’t be acceptable to Mrs. Strong, and she knew that.
Elizabeth sighed, raising a brow and giving Amelia a meaningful look. “Honey…be honest with me. We have no secrets, remember?”
Oh, if she only knew. Amelia truly wished that was the case, but her relationship with her mother had been distanced since Mrs. Strong had her breakdown all of those months ago. Now the sheer spatial expanse from Middleboro to Ipswich was another factor. She hadn’t been able to get that sense of honesty and frankness back with her. There was so much Amelia knew she couldn’t tell her- things she wouldn’t be able to handle. Her situation was so outside the norm, that she was certain her mother would either insist on having her committed- or at the very least- withdraw her from Spenser and take her away from the guys. She couldn’t have either. No, she had to make sure her mother didn’t catch on to the reality of her daughter’s situation here.
It would frighten her…it frightened Amelia.
“Mom…I think you and Dad need to go back home.”
Elizabeth blinked, not saying anything for a second as her daughter’s words sunk in. “I don’t exactly believe this is the best time to leave you alone, Amelia. Your father agrees with me. As is, he wants you to come back home for a while…so many strange things are happening here, and it makes him nervous. I’m telling him to trust that things will calm down, but even I don’t feel comfortable with the thought of leaving you here to deal with these surrounding tragedies alone. The boys, at the very least, need counseling. Tyler seems to be shell-shocked by all of this, not to mention the condition of Caleb, I think he has a hard road ahead in dealing with his mother’s…”
“Mom,” Amelia interrupted, shaking her head, “I don’t need to hear your analysis on Caleb and Tyler, we’ll…we’ll get through this together.” She realized that she had to force herself to say the words, finding it hard to believe them herself. How did she expect her mom to buy it?
“Sweetheart, it’s a very sensitive time. Poor Tyler, he seems to be the heart of the boys, and he’s having problems keeping his friend’s heads above water- it’s so much pressure on a young man, one that he shouldn’t have to be burdened with at his age. I know that Caleb lost his father some years back, and now his mother…he’ll be emotionally scarred if he doesn’t get some professional help. And Pogue, from what I understand, is now without any family, so until he turns eighteen he’ll be under the care of the state…”
Amelia’s blue eyes darted to her mother’s face as she caught on to what she was talking about. “What do you mean, Pogue is now without any family?”
Elizabeth blinked, taking a step backwards as her arms fell to her sides. “His father died yesterday, right outside. Didn’t you know?”
She blinked, becoming numb as she processed those words. Pogue’s father, dead? How did that happen? Why hadn’t anyone told her?
Amelia turned on her heel, walking away from Dr. Strong and back towards the stairs, hurrying up them with the bottom of the robe gripped in her hands so that she wouldn’t trip. Did Pogue even know? If they had told him, the thought of her being away from him all night while he was grieving made her heart twist inside her chest. She had been busy consoling Caleb, she didn’t know she needed to be there for her fiancée, too.
As she headed towards his door, she saw Tyler coming out of it, dressed and looking somewhat ready for the day, if not completely willing. His eyes brightened only slightly before looking confused as he scanned over what she was wearing.
“Um…nice robe, Amelia.”
“Pogue’s dad is dead?” she asked, her eyes wide with uncertainty and anxiety. She hoped that he would tell her that it wasn’t true, that her mother had false information. But the look on the teen’s face spoke volumes. It was no falsehood.
“Yeah. Courtesy of Stoughton. We didn’t want to tell you and scare you, so…”
“Does Pogue know?” Amelia quickly followed up, having a feeling that she already knew the answer.
“Yeah. Reid told him last night, after Mrs. Danvers died,” Tyler replied in a dry voice, his expression turning slightly sour. “I told him that we needed to tell him together, or at least while you were available, but he…”
Amelia didn’t wait around to get any more explanations. She moved past Tyler and into Pogue’s room, closing the door to give her and her fiancée privacy.
Pogue looked over at her from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in lounge pants and nothing else. He smiled faintly when he saw her, not able to help wondering if she wore anything underneath that gargantuan robe she had wrapped so tightly around her like some kind of safety blanket. Oh, the places his mind could go when he was healed. The thought of tugging the belt off to answer the question for himself was soon to follow his previous question.
As she closed the distance between them, her face shadowed with deep concern, he reached out with his long arms and grabbed her around the waist, yanking her to him.
“Pogue…”
“I was wondering where you were. What’s with the robe? It covers too much, in my personal opinion, but on the other hand it does leave a lot to the imagination…”
She shook her head, trying to keep her mind focused on why she was in the room with him as she felt his hands spread over her lower back and down to her buttocks over the material of the robe.
“I just found out about your father. I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be.”
Amelia blinked, tilting her head so that she could make out his face better. He raised his face slightly so that she got a good look at his countenance. He didn’t *appear* upset…
“But…Stoughton killed…”
Pogue let a sigh escape his lips. “Yeah, Stoughton fried him out on the front lawn. Reid told me. I didn’t need details, so he gave me the brief rundown. I’m okay.”
She couldn’t wrap her brain around the fact that he seemed relatively fine with his father’s death. She just couldn’t fathom it. Maybe Stoughton *had* messed with his mind, surely he would be feeling some sadness over losing the only parent he had had the last several years…wouldn’t he? Was there more wrong with him than even Caleb realized when he had begun healing him?
“I-I can’t believe you’re so nonchalant about this,” she admitted softly, her hand moving over his as she felt him begin to pull at the belt that held her robe closed. “Despite the differences with your father, he was still…”
“A bastard who had it coming. Amelia…I know that he’s dead. It’s sunk in. It took all of ten minutes to process and I’m back to focusing on the living. Like you, my friends, and…” he moved his left hand to her front and laid it on her abdomen, “Anna. We obviously can’t change death, so we might as well embrace life.”
She swallowed, finding it hard to completely disagree with his mentality on that. But shouldn’t they also remember and cherish the ones they’ve loved and lost? Maybe not in Pogue’s case, when love wasn’t a common emotion between Wayne Parry and his son. It was just that how Pogue was dealing with his father’s death was the complete opposite of how Caleb had handed his mother’s death last night. One lacked emotion, the other overflowed with it. It showed how different people mourned, she guessed.
At that moment, with Pogue’s hand against her abdomen, she felt movement in her belly. She blinked, trying to realize whether or not she really felt anything or if it was just in her imagination, before she felt a shifting again, and a deep, warm sensation moved throughout her abdomen. It was an odd feeling, one she had trouble discerning.
“What’s wrong?” Pogue asked her, noticing the way her face scrunched up in perplexity. He had seen that expression many times on her face, but each time had brought different explanations. He was curious as to what had caused it this time. He hoped he hadn’t upset her too much with his absence of sorrow for his father.
“I…I don’t know. My stomach feels hot. And I felt movement.”
“Movement? In your stomach?” Pogue’s eyes widened as he realized what that could mean. He quickly loosened the belt around her waist, happy she didn’t protest as he pushed her robe away from her. She wore cotton pajamas underneath it that concealed her skin, calf to chest. With one barrier out of the way, she put her own hand on her stomach and concentrated on the reoccurring sensation inside of her.
“Do you think it’s…?”
She just nodded, not even needed Anna’s verbal confirmation to know what was going on. Well, her eldest had said that the pregnancy wouldn’t be a normal one. That must mean their growth was being accelerated. Her mind swam at that thought. She could feel her children *moving*. It was the most miraculous feeling in the world!
“Jesus,” Pogue muttered, gently lifting up the hem of Amelia’s pajama top while simultaneously pulling her pajama bottoms down the slightest bit. “Babe…I might be imagining this, but…I think you’ve gotten bigger. Your stomach seems to be…rounder.”
Amelia used one hand to keep her hair out of her face as she glanced down to see what he was talking about. He was right. Her stomach was no longer flat, it had rounded out about an inch and a half. So *that* was why her pjs seemed to feel tighter last night! Not that she had dwelled on it; she had been too busy recovering from Caleb’s forced passions to wonder why her elastic banded pajama pants felt tighter than normal. Now she had her answer.
“What’s going on?” he asked her, his eyes lingering on her face as an expression of realization crossed over it. “What am I missing?”
Amelia smiled slightly, happy for the warm reminder in the midst of such a dark time. “I spoke with Anna yesterday before you woke up. She told me that she and the other babies would be born prematurely, but they would be born safe and strong. I can only assume that they’re growing at a faster rate, due to what she said and…” she gestured to her slightly jutting belly, “…the obvious fact I’m getting bigger.”
“Holy crap,” Pogue muttered under his breath, running his palm down the smooth skin of her stomach. “Another unbelievable piece of news from our girl, herself. I miss her. I heard her voice so much while I was…tied up, that it feels strange now that it’s gone. She’s okay?”
“She’s fine. She said she wouldn’t be able to talk to me for a little while…I guess because she’s so busy making sure they all grow in there,” she shrugged, giving her belly a small poke with her index finger. She gasped out loud when she felt a distinctive movement immediately following. “Oops, I think I just bothered someone.”
Letting out a chuckle, Pogue let his face near her skin. “Well, excuse me if my aim isn’t right, little ones…I may be your uncle, but this is meant for Anna.” He gave her a light kiss right below her exposed belly button, causing Amelia’s entire body to flush with love.
He kept his mouth only a breath away from her skin, so that when he spoke, it felt like a caress against her stomach. “This is reminding me of something else I really, really want to do right now…” His tongue licked around her navel, causing wetness to immediately pool between her legs.
Amelia closed her eyes, forcing her knees to not buckle beneath her. She gripped him by his bare shoulders, no longer afraid of her hold hurting him. Her head swam with the feeling of his lips and tongue against her flesh, sending chills up and down her spine…the *very* good kind.
Pogue let his hand move upwards from her abdomen and beneath her shirt, towards her loose breasts. Just as his fingers brushed against them, he heard her let out a soft hiss, which caused him to pull back so that he could look at her to make sure she was all right. As soon as he saw her face, his hand withdrew, letting her shirt fall back down over the slight expanse of her belly.
Amelia stared at the ceiling with a troubled look in her eyes. For a few wonderful moments she had forgotten what had transpired between her and Caleb downstairs several hours previous, but the thought of being intimate with Pogue caused it all to come rushing back. She lowered her head after a moment and looked down at his confused face, taking a slight step backwards as she offered him a forced smile. She could read the puzzlement in his eyes and she didn’t want him to think he had done anything wrong. He hadn’t. It was her…it was all her.
“Sorry…I just think that…I’m too overwhelmed by everything that’s happened to be able to completely give myself to you.” Amelia raised her hands off of his shoulders so that they rested against each side of his face, cradling it. Her eyes shone with sincerity as she bent down and kissed him lovingly, following it with as good of an explanation as she could give.
“I want to be able to focus on you…on being with you again…you deserve that: me at one-hundred percent. And…I think you need a little more time, too.”
He snorted, shaking his head between her hands. “Not me, I’m ready to go. I’m ready to get back into the saddle, make love to you furiously, kick some butt, take a cruise on my bike…”
Amelia’s eyes turned doubtful as she chewed on her lower lip and stroked her thumbs against his temples. He quirked a brow at her expression. “What?”
“We have no idea where your bike is. It’s not at your ancestor’s cabin, or your house, or anywhere on the main and side streets between here and town. Believe me, if it was, it would have been noticed considering how extensively the guys searched for you.”
Anger coiled inside of him at the thought of his bike vanishing into thin air. What had Stoughton done to it? Either hid it or destroyed it to hide any evidence of Pogue’s disappearance, more than likely. The rat bastard…
“I’ll find it. I’ve put too much blood, sweat and tears into that sucker to let some pissed-off ghost have it.”
Amelia had to admire the teen’s grip on those things that were dear to him- despite the fact his father may or may not be one of them. In spite of the entire time Stoughton had him imprisoned, inflicted him with God knows what kind of torture, Pogue refused to let the spirit get the better of him. His spirit was something that Stoughton did not- and probably would never- break. Thank goodness for that.
Sighing, she leaned down and kissed him again before re-wrapping the robe around her waist and tying the belt back into place to hold it closed. She noticed the visible pout on Pogue’s face as she did so, which made her laugh softly.
“Later, I promise. I just…need some time.”
“Considering the fact I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you, I guess I’m cool with that. But,” he warned, raising a hand and pointing a finger at her, “you owe me some *major* quality time when this whole thing blows over.”
“Deal,” she grinned, backing up towards the door.
“Where are you going? Somewhere you don’t think I can follow? Sweetheart, I’m not letting you out of my sight from now on,” Pogue told her matter-of-factly, as he slowly rose to his feet, his poise steady as he stood still next to the bed a few moments. “Don’t make me prove it.”
“I’m going to go talk to Reid,” she told him as she opened the door, taking a step out into the hallway.
“About what?”
Amelia took a deep breath before answering him. “About doing something forbidden.”
---------------------------
Amelia paused outside of Reid’s door, arguing with herself for the twelfth time that this was for the best where her parents were concerned. She adjusted her white sweater and then ran her palms down her jean-covered legs before she finally let her knuckles make light contact with the wooden door.
“Come in,” replied Reid’s slightly muffled voice from inside the room. She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, opening the door halfway and letting her eyes scan the room for the boy she sought.
She caught the quick flash of skin as he turned towards her, fastening his jeans. A lopsided smile touched his face when he saw who had come to see him.
“’Morning, gorgeous. Just the person I needed to see to get my day set off on the right track.”
She smiled in return as Reid closed the space between them, stopping about a foot and a half away from her. It looked as though he struggled not to near her further, his hands immediately going into his deep pants pockets.
“What’s up?”
“You seem all right after Mrs. Danvers and Mr. Parry’s deaths,” she mentioned mildly, her eyes locked on his. His gaze shifted a little at her words before settling back on her.
“So you know about Mr. Parry?”
“My mother inadvertently told me.”
Letting out a long breath between his teeth, Reid shrugged. “Yeah, well…life’s too short. That’s my philosophy. And that philosophy makes it extremely difficult not to toss you onto the bed and ravish you right now. You look heavenly in white.” His eyes moved up and down her body appreciatively.
The mention of tossing her onto the bed and “ravishing” her caused Amelia slight discomfort, but she quickly shoved that feeling out of her mind. Caleb had been grieving. Reid appeared to be fine, and he never pushed her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She thanked God that still rang true. She knew she could depend on him for boundaries.
Amelia raised her right hand and took his chin between his fingers, forcing his eyes back to hers. A coy smile played on her lips. “Back your mind out of that gutter, you know I’m no angel.”
“I beg to differ.”
Sighing, she let her hand drop, but he grabbed it before it could return to her side. He kept his gaze intent on her face as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles gently. The gesture- along with his gaze- sent warmth spreading throughout her body. She adored this boy.
“That point aside, I need to ask you a favor…a big one,” she admitted, her eyes filling with apprehension at what she was going to ask him to do.
Reid lowered her hand, but kept it loosely in his grip. “Name it. Short of making myself a eunuch, I’ll do anything for you.”
“Well,” she began, taking a deep breath, “what I want to ask you to do you told me the Covenant considers taboo and off-limits. So I’m not sure how easily you’ll be able to do this.”
Reid’s brows raised as squeezed her hand gently. “Now my interest is definitely aroused…amongst other things. What naughty deed does my lady wish for me to execute for her? Does it involve a pole and whipped cream?”
She giggled before forcing herself to get back into a serious mindset. “No. It does involve you getting into my mother’s mind and implanting direction.”
“You’re asking me to mess with your mom’s mind, aren’t you?”
She looked almost sheepish as she nodded, waiting for him to immediately decline. She would understand, the limitations they put on their Powers were one thing that kept them in check, kept them from being dangerous and altering the world to their liking. If there were more than one person with Reid’s abilities, they could very well manipulate politicians, societies, the very people that made the world go round. It was a sobering- and frightening- prospect. That’s why she had always highly respected how careful he had been with his Power, but she knew that he was also the only one who could help her keep her parents out of harm’s way.
“I don’t like the term ‘mess’, I prefer…heavily suggesting for her and dad’s own good.”
Reid finally let her hand go, crossing his arms in front of her as he appeared to regard her in a analytical manner. His blue eyes darkened slightly with skepticism, but if she didn’t know any better, they also held the slightest hint of intrigue. She knew that he liked to use his Powers, even though they were supposed to keep them reigned in.
“Uh-huh. And what do you want me to ‘heavily suggest’?”
“That she needs to take Dad and go home- without me. I talked to my mother and she and my father aren’t going anywhere anytime soon, unless it’s with me. She thinks all of you are prime candidates for intensive therapy.” Amelia sighed, raising her arms and letting them drop in a gesture of helplessness. “The longer they stay here, the more danger they’re in.”
He just shrugged, scratching his cheek with his fingernail. “The intensive therapy thing I agree with- we are all fucked up in the head now. Oooh, sorry,” he winced, his eyes flying down to her stomach as he remembered the ‘no swear’ rule. “You didn’t hear that, little guys.”
“Oh, I think it’s too late for Anna anyway, she’ll be swearing like a sailor when she comes out, more than likely.”
“Why? Have you been having Terrets episodes when we haven’t been around? Remind me to plant a tape recorder in your room.”
“No, you guys are just that hopeless. Okay,” Amelia struggled to get back on track as she rubbed at her forehead, her eyes closed, “my parents…they aren’t a part of this. I would feel better with them back in Middleboro. Besides, the longer they stay around here, the more chance they’ll discover the secrets your families have fought so hard to contain. Tell me I’m wrong with my rationale here.”
“I can’t. I agree with you on most everything you said. But your parents are a part of this now, because they’re *your* parents. I know Tyler’s freaked out, Pogue is…well, I’m not sure how Pogue is, he’s been tough to read through the grimaces of physical pain and the stubborn streak half a mile wide. Caleb’s…coping. I’m glad you could calm him down.”
Amelia tried not to look as uncertain as she felt at Reid’s last words. She had calmed him down, she had to focus on that. Focusing on the negative would keep things too difficult. She had to focus on the positives. She had to. She had to *quit* going back to last night…it was done, it was over.
“He needed to grieve. I think Pogue needs to grieve, but he thinks differently. He acts like he glad his father’s dead.”
“Pogue certainly didn’t have much respect for his old man while he was alive, I’m not sure that’s going to change now after he’s dead. I can safely say I’m not surprised that he doesn’t give a damn. I know I wouldn’t either if my sperm donor croaked. It will probably be naked, beneath his twenty-three year-old bride in some sauna in Switzerland or something. Then there will be happiness all around. The bastard will go out happy screwing his Playboy playmate, and I’ll be happy with my inheritance, which no bimbo will get her hands on. There’s no downside there.”
Amelia’s jaw dropped as Reid talked casually about his father. First Pogue, now him. The boys had been burned so badly by their dads that death was just a shrug and a sigh for them. It saddened her to the core.
“I’m not going to say what I’m thinking, because I don’t know your dad and I don’t know your relationship…”
“You want to hear about it?”
“Maybe later. Right now I think talking about it might make you a tad more bitter. Back to the original request. You agree with me that it’s safer for my parents to go home?”
“Yes. Who’d want to holiday here any longer with the death rate rising? But you have to realize, that with what you just told me, simply implanting the fact that it’s time to go home in your mom’s head won’t do the trick. I don’t think your Dad would go easily and quietly. If you want them to go home, I’ll probably have to get into *both* of their minds.”
She winced at the thought. “Won’t that be too much for you?”
“Not really. It’s far easier than putting up those shields for you and your mom. However, it is considered messing with free will, young lady,” he added, a reprimanding look on his face that was very obviously playful. “And it will cost you.”
“Cost me what?” she asked incredulously, wondering what he was going to come up with.
“Mmm…I’ll think about it and get back to you,” Reid chuckled. “Letting you guess what I might ask you to do for me will be half the fun.”
She swatted his arm. “You’re bad.”
“You know it, baby.”
“So you’ll do this? Make them think it’s a good idea to go home and not worry about leaving me here?”
“They might still worry about leaving you here, but your Dad will need to get back to work pronto on an important new project, and your mother- well, her practice comprised of loonies wait for no shrink.”
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, appreciation shining on her face. “Thank you, Reid.”
“Anytime. But like I said, Princess…you *will* owe me.”
---------------------
Glenn Sims put the phone receiver back into its cradle warily, raking his fingers back through his hair. He had to chuckle at the older model phone. Leave it to James to have a rotary in his study. That man held on to the older, dependable things while opening his arms wide for the new. Next to Wayne, he had been the most outgoing, vivacious member of their Covenant, always looking for the next adventure, and at the same time, upholding his family’s legacy as the leader of the pack. He was an amazing man. He was still terribly missed.
He eyed the decanter of brandy that sat only a few feet away from him to his right, never more tempted than at that moment to have a drink this early in the morning. He had begun making arrangements for Wayne’s funeral, which was an arduous process. As soon as Wayne’s body was released by the morgue, they would have a small, private memorial for those closest to the ill-fated man. Or at least, those that hadn’t been completely shoved away by his antics and bad decisions.
They all made bad decisions. Glenn liked to think that he made less errors in judgment than his comrades, but he was hardly perfect. He still believed that he had turned his back on his friends after James had died, too afraid to meet the same fate. His wife had implored him to step away from his Powers for his family’s sake, and considering how shaken up he had been at the unexpected death of James Danvers, he believed she was right. He loved his wife, his son and his daughter more than life itself, but at the same time…the loyalty and bond he had with his three best friends growing up suffered because of it.
At least he hadn’t been the only one to turn and run. Joseph started hopping country to country on “business”, which Glenn believed just to be an excuse to not stay in Ipswich and be reminded of what the Power they held could ultimately do to them. It could tear them inside out, twist their minds and bodies. James actually went out the best way- quickly. He didn’t wither and die slowly as the body dealt with the abuse that extreme overuse of The Power could cause.
Wayne was never the same after his wife left him, but when his best friend died two years later, it had destroyed his spirit. Glenn truly believed that. Wayne Parry turned to booze, women: the superficial comforts that never lasted. They were short distractions before the pain filled him once more. Then there was Wayne’s relationship with his son, Nicolas. Glenn firmly believed the reason the two butted heads so much was because of Wayne’s blind fear that his son would end up either like his old man or perish like James. Why he had taken it out on the boy was beyond him, rationale was hardly Wayne’s strong suit towards the end.
The end. Was that what this was? Would he or his wife be next? Tyler? Samantha? They were paying the ultimate price for their ancestors. It didn’t feel worth it- it didn’t feel fair, but then again, he was never one to believe all that much in fate. However, hearing his son, his friends, and the girl, Amelia, talk, fate was something they were all clinging to. He admired that they had something they were holding on to. They were holding on to hope and each other…
Two things his own Covenant had forgotten long ago.
Resigning himself to a mid-morning drink, Glenn stood to retrieve the decanter and tumbler that was placed next to it. Brandy had been James’ favorite, and it was always present in this room. He had to make sure that Marlene never smelled the alcohol on his breath when he went home- she was the epitome of sobriety. He smiled at the thought of her chastising him, taking the stopper out of the top of the container and beginning to pour himself a glass of the tan liquid.
Replacing the glass decanter on the small silver tray, he raised the tumbler to his lips.
The rim of the glass never made it to his mouth.
Glenn dropped to his knees as haziness and disorientation enveloped him. He gasped for breath and closed his eyes tightly, his hand reaching out and grabbing the back of the desk chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. The tumbler fell to the floor and shattered, sending brandy all across the hardwood floor.
Attempting to take another breath, Glenn forced his Power to unleash, which opened up his air passageway and made it possible for oxygen to fill his lungs once more. Once he was able to breath, he wasn’t as panicked as the air around him thickened. It felt as if an older presence was surrounding him, diving in and out of his mind and body.
“No…not again…”
Tyler knocked once on the study door before opening it. As soon as his eyes fell on his father doubled over on the floor, a broken glass right in front of him, he leapt to his father’s side.
“Dad?”
Glenn was vaguely aware of hearing his son’s voice, but the rest of his mind was too immersed in something else. He heard whispers and threats, voices of a time long, long ago. His Power level spiked, throwing Tyler backwards against the sofa, his back hitting the soft arm of it.
Fear filled the young man’s eyes as he saw energy begin to encompass and churn around his father’s hunched-over body. He knew he couldn’t get close to him again, but he had *no* idea what was going on.
Glenn opened his eyes, the blackness of them making his face seem ominous and pale. His head jerked back at the same time the energy flew from the room, no longer disturbing the air in the study. Tyler didn’t waste anytime before going back to his dad, but he didn’t touch him…not yet.
It was obvious his father was still alive, but what had happened to him was beyond him. Mr. Sims knelt, panting and shaking from the extreme Powers that had both fueled and surrounded him. It was a rush, but not the good kind. However, now he realized what that had been…and when he had last felt it.
“Dad, talk to me,” Tyler beseeched from a couple of feet away, his own breathing quickened from the energy he had felt. “What was that? Are you okay?”
Glenn blinked, the blackness now gone from his eyes as he slowly started to get to his feet. His attempt was futile as he fell over, knocking up against the nearby lamp table. His son moved next to him, taking his arm and helping him straighten out. He wanted to ask his questions again, but before he could, his dad began to speak in a tired, shaky voice.
“S-Someone…has summoned…the spirits of our ancestors.” Glenn swallowed hard, trying to get more moisture in his mouth and on his lips to be able to talk easier.
Tyler blanched, although he wasn’t familiar with what his father was talking about. Whatever it was, it did *not* sound good.
“Can that happen?”
Glenn let out a long breath, his fingers going to the neckline of his shirt and pulling it away from his neck, as if he needed more air. “It’s rare. Y-You have to hold your Powers at their full force…and you have to bring all kinds of…emotions to the table.”
Tyler shook his head slightly, for some reason having problems understanding what his father was telling him. “How can…?”
“Tyler,” his father interrupted, looking his straight in the eye, his own weary and drained. “I didn’t do this. Joseph wouldn’t…not considering the past. That means someone else in the Covenant has.”
His son frowned as he deliberated who could do such a thing. He knew his brain wasn’t working at full capacity yet that morning, so fogged down by the trials of yesterday, but his father’s eyes held the answer that Tyler was lacking.
“You *must* be ascended to summon an ancestor’s spirit. There’s only one option left.”
Caleb.
Tyler immediately stood, heading for the door before his father stopped him with his words.
“What he’s doing is beyond dangerous. You have to get to him quickly. He can only summon them from one place.”
“The old house. I’ll get the guys and we’ll get out there. I don’t know why Caleb would do this…”
“I do,” Glenn replied in a distant voice as painful memories filled him. “He’s hurting and he’s desperate. Invoking the spirits is a last resort very few survive. He’s probably already in the trance, it might be too late.”
“It’s not,” Tyler shot back, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not losing Caleb, not like this.”
“There’s something you need to know before you go.”
“Dad, I have to get…”
Glenn’s next words stopped Tyler’s words in mid-sentence. His eyes widened as he quickly processed what his father was talking about. Without another word, or wasting one more single second, he turned and sprinted towards the stairs, shouting out for Reid, Pogue and Amelia as he took them three by three.
Mr. Sims laid his head back against the chair Tyler had helped prop him against. Caleb had no idea what he was messing with, what he was doing. He was making the same mistake his father did, proving he was definitely James’ son.
He could still remember walking into the sanctum, Joseph right on his heels, seeing Wayne kneel over their fallen friend. James wasn’t moving, speaking, or breathing. None of them were Vitalists, and by the look of James’ skin and lifeless eyes, it had been too late ten minutes ago.
Wayne let out an inhuman howl, letting go of James’ arm roughly as he stood, his hands clenched into fists. He was breathing hard as he slowly turned around to face the remaining members of his Covenant.
“He did it. The stupid son-of-a-bitch did it. Why?” Wayne acknowledged in a voice laced with pain and anger.
Glenn knew exactly what had happened and what Wayne was talking about. He closed his eyes as fresh pain tore through him.
Summoning their ancestors had killed James Danvers…
…and Caleb had no idea.
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