A Member of the Council (9 page)

He pushed aside the empty carton, opening a second, smaller container of rice. He’d consume this, then focus on work. Typing his code on The Council’s research website, he hoped he’d get enough time before the sweepers noticed his activity. He needed time to develop his case to protect Parris and Matilda from The Council’s attention. The research site booted up. Ty started his search.

Three hours later, he sat back, done. He had a theory about where Parris came from and why her latent powers were high even without any training. He couldn’t quite prove it. However, his research led him to believe Parris McCall was a direct decedent of Originals. Her mother and father were Originals or what The Council liked to call, first bloods.

Originals were the first families. The families who developed The Council. Who wrote the rules. Forbidden to mate outside The Council’s selection, their unauthorized offspring brought The Council to the brink of discovery by the human population too many times. The Council played on the image the human world had of witchcraft being a cult, a play toy of a disturbed few. They cultivated the image. Detractors, like the church, followed the fake trail.

Except when Originals came into full view. After humans saw Originals, bad things happened. Like the Salem witch trials.

Matilda had been right to conceal Parris from The Council. After what Ty’d read, he’d have no qualms saying The Council may have staged the accident killing her parents. Thinking they’d killed Parris in the same accident.

If they found different, Parris wouldn’t be alive long.

Ty’s heart ached. He pushed his chair away from the desk running his fingers through his hair. No way he’d fix this.

This afternoon, he’d found his soul mate.

A few minutes ago, sitting at his antique desk eating Chinese food, he’d lost her forever.

Chapter 10

Parris woke to the smell of moss, mold, and antiseptic tickling her nose. Her head pounded. What happened last night? She hadn’t stayed at the bar drinking. Her apartment only had one bottle of wine she’d opened to share with Ty. She felt like a college student after a frat party. She tried to sit up, causing her head to pound harder. Something held her down.

“What the hell?” Bringing her head up, she glanced down at her body. She was strapped to a gurney. Her gaze flashed through the room, looking for anything familiar. Had she been in an accident? Was she in a hospital? She fought back nausea trying to remember the last few hours. She’d left the bar, walking toward the bakery to get dinner, then, nothing. If she’d been hit by a car, shouldn’t she remember it?

Calming herself, she started checking out her ability to move. Toes on each foot wiggled fine. At least she wasn’t paralyzed. Without being able to see her entire body, she wasn’t taking anything for granted. She tried tapping her fingers.

All five fingers on each hand ran down a scale on an imaginary piano. No, this time she felt the cool hard sheet on the gurney. No eight hundred thread count sheets here. Parris smelled a hint of bleach coming from the linens.

She turned her head to the left, a door. No one appeared to be in the room. She shook her head. She felt clear, not dizzy. All she had to do was unbuckle the first strap, sit up, and get out of here. She felt a strong desire to escape. She never questioned her feelings. They’d kept her alive many times. Like in college after she’d turned down the ride home with her sorority sisters. Later she found out the girls were in a horrible accident, car versus train. Train wins.

Her senses told her to escape. No matter what.

Focusing on the first belt, she visualized the strap unbuckled leaving her free. As she tried to sit up this time, nothing held her back. She reached to untie the other belts. No straps held her. Nothing.

Confused, she pulled back the sheet, revealing a stiff cotton gown. No injuries she could see. No cuts, no bandages, no broken legs, no bruises. Why was she in a hospital?

The door to her left opened. A woman in a doctor’s coat over a brown skirted suit strolled into the room. The woman’s drab gray hair was pulled away from her face, blue eyes sparkling behind a pair of black rimmed glasses.

“Good, you’re awake. You’ve removed your restraints.” She wrote something down on the chart she carried. She smiled at Parris. “Headache, still? An unfortunate side effect of the drug they administered last night. I can give you aspirin. Nothing stronger, I’m afraid. Pain medication interferes with testing.”

The woman gently laid her hand on Parris’ forehead. “Good, no fever.”

“Why would I have a fever? Where am I? Who are you? What testing am I doing?” Parris shot off her questions, not expecting an answer to any of them. What she heard though, chilled her to the bone.

“You relax now. The Council wants to see what your levels are.” The woman smiled again, her once red lipstick now a memory except for the line around her lips. Parris noticed the smile never reached her eyes.

The woman turned her back. Parris focused her attention, hoping she’d be strong enough. “You don’t want to do this. You want to let me go.”

“I’m immune. Sorry. But good try.” The woman made a check mark on her clipboard. “I haven’t seen a strong hypno-talent in a long time.”

The woman walked over to a machine, turning dials. “Shall we get started then? Lovely.”

Parris felt electricity run through her. “What’s happening?”

The woman called out, “Give me your earliest memory. Playing in the backyard with your parents. Or sitting down at the table for dinner. Something small, focus on their faces, the sound of their voices.”

As if in a dream, Parris thought, anywhere but here. The release jolted her. She wouldn’t give in to the woman who had her kidnapped and brought to this pseudo hospital? Now she’d sat up, she saw walls covered with sheets. The cement floor was old, cracked. What she’d first thought was hospital equipment, looked more like items from a mad scientist’s laboratory. She was the rat in the maze. She tried to slide off the gurney.

“Safety rules state you need to stay right there.” A man’s voice came from her left. He sounded like a flight attendant. She hadn’t seen him before. Now, she wondered how she’d missed his bouncer built body dressed in a black dress shirt and slacks. He held what looked like a modified high power rifle in his arms. He saw her flinch at the sight of the gun and smiled. He jiggled the gun. “No bullets, only some juju juice to make you sleep and wake up with a headache making you wish you’d died.”

Parris frowned. Her head pounded. Apparently the ones who grabbed her off the street had shot her up with some of the same concoction.

“They’ll be looking for me. I’ve got an early morning staff meeting at the bar. When I don’t show up, April will call the police.” A glimmer of hope ran through her body. No way April would let her disappear. Parris folded her arms across her chest to keep her from holding her head. No use giving them the satisfaction of knowing their potion still worked.

“Oh, no, dear.” The woman in the lab coat didn’t even look up from her machine. “You cancelled your meeting. I’m afraid your grandmother isn’t doing well. She’s in the hospital. You’re not expected back until Tuesday at the latest. If you cooperate, we might have you back in time to watch some old movies on Sunday.”

“My grandmother? What did you do to her?” Parris’ stomach lurched. No way Grans was ill, she saw her yesterday.

“She’s fine. Or she will be if you cooperate with testing. Are we ready? Your earliest memory please.” The woman watched her, expectantly.

Parris caved. She didn’t know what else to do. If this protected Grans, she’d do or say anything. She found herself in the twilight zone playing by their rules.

Two hours later, dripping with sweat, on the verge of losing consciousness, she focused on one thought. One savior. Ty. If anyone would hear her screams, Ty would. She saw him, sitting on a leather couch in his office. Talking to a woman in a red power suit, he paused. Parris imagined him looking straight at her.

“Ty, help me,” she whispered before losing consciousness.

* * * *

Margaret Winters sat in his office, crying. She’d discovered Mr. Winters stashed a twenty-two year old honey in a city apartment with her own bank account, credit cards, and a nice bit of jewelry. Derek’s detailed list last week included a full accounting of the gifts. Margaret asked Ty to determine if her husband was cheating. Today, she’d gotten what she wanted.

Ty knew the woman wanted to stuff the genie back in the bottle. Forget her suspicions. Forget the late nights where she sat alone at her dinner table, her husband’s place made, his chair empty. Phone calls with one excuse after another.

Anything was better than the truth sometimes. Because when one knew, one had to act. Suspecting wasn’t knowing. Knowing was hell.

Ty felt sorry for the woman who must have been in her sixties although she didn’t look older than thirty. Apparently even looking thirty hadn’t been enough to keep her husband interested. He knew she blamed herself. That’s not where the blame should lay. Ty knew it. John Winters strayed, hurting his wife. Now Ty would make him pay.

“We’ll cut off her cards, freezing her account. I’ll strong arm the jeweler to repossess the jewelry.” Ty watched her face to see her reaction. “I’ll freeze Mr. Winter’s access to your joint accounts.”

Margaret blinked, and like that, instead of the hurt, scared woman, a tiger sat in front of him. “The money is my inheritance. The company is mine. If you check the firm’s records, you’ll find our pre-nup. He gets nothing. Nothing. I want him locked out of everything and that woman tossed from the apartment.”

“That might take some time,” Ty hedged. He’d been through money divorces before. Most of the time, the couple came to an agreement, a way to ignore the transgression. Margaret needed some time to cool, to come to grips with the betrayal.

“I don’t care. Freeze the assets, take his keys to the office, repo his Bentley. I want the man and his harlot walking the streets before day’s end. Or living with her parents. That’s where twenty-two year olds live now, right–with their parents?” The woman finally took a breath. She looked at Ty, obviously expecting an answer.

“I was on my own after college, but I guess some people.” Ty suddenly almost did a one-eighty feeling sorry for the straying Mr. Winter. His world was about to implode. Ty knew John brought the crap down on himself, never expecting his wife to react this extreme. Cry, pout, make him give up his on the side sex, not this. The woman scorned club had a new president, Margaret Winters.

“I want this handled today. I’d like to have loose ends tied up before I leave for Europe next month. I can’t stand the thought of him being near the house while I’m on holiday. Who knows what he’d take off with?” Margaret stood smoothing her skirt, focused on Ty. “Understood?”

“Of course, I’ll take care of everything.” Ty’s eyes burned as Parris’ voice hit him and almost knocked him to his knees.

“Help me Ty. Please, help.”
The words came out of nowhere.

He stumbled. He put a hand on his desk, trying to focus on the voice. The voice belonged to Parris. No doubt. How did she reach him? She was untrained, shouldn’t be able to project her need. Unless…he was linked to her. Soul mates. His heart burned.

“Oh, my, are you okay?” Margaret stared at him, her eyes wide. He’d been the only one to hear Parris’ cry.

Ty took a breath standing straighter, pulling his jacket down to give him time to put his lawyer mask on. He smiled before he looked at Margaret, hoping the smile would fool. “Twisted my knee in the basketball game last weekend, then rammed it up against the desk. You’d think I’d learn contact sports are for the younger guys.”

Margaret gave him a wicked smile he hadn’t expected. “Dear, you’re plenty young enough for any kind of contact sport.”

As he walked her to the door, she patted his arm. “Let me know your progress before five. I have dinner plans at Le Cherine’s. I don’t want to be bothered then.”

“Wait, I’m going to set up a security company at the house assigning you a round the clock bodyguard.” Ty punched a button on the intercom. “Sally, send Alex in please, I have an assignment for him.”

“Oh, my, do you think that’s necessary?” For the first time, Margaret looked scared, not mad.

“If I was John, the first thing I’d do is try to get you to change your mind. Using any means necessary.” Ty tilted his head toward his client. “Are you sure this is the path you want to take? You could force his hand, make him give up this woman, get counseling.”

Margaret grasped her purse like a lifeline. “I don’t think I would ever trust him again. I gave him everything including my heart. He knows my secrets, my hopes, my dreams. He’d use them against me.”

”We’ll make sure you are safe, first, then safeguard your assets.”

“You’re not like most lawyers. Instead of seeing the money signs this action will bring you and your firm, you’re concerned about my emotions?” Margaret patted his arm again. “This isn’t John’s first transgression. It’s his last against me.”

“Then your wish is my command.” Ty smiled. “We’ll get through this.”

A knock came at the door. Alex peeked inside. “Sally said you needed something?”

“Alex meet Margaret Winters. I need you to follow her back to her house. Wait there until her security team is in place. Or longer if she needs you.” Ty turned to Margaret. “Alex is at your total disposal until this matter is over. Anything you need, including ice cream in the middle of the night, you’ll have his cellphone. Alex will get whatever you need. Don’t take any risks, please. Don’t be alone. Don’t send your guards away.”