Death at First Sight (Spero Heights Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter Eight

A pile of open journals crowded Dr. Delph’s desk. Most of them were wrapped in cracked, leather covers, and written in ink so faded that he had to use a special light and magnifying glass to decipher their delicate script. He hadn’t been this desperate in some time, but the fruits of his labor were less than rewarding.

He’d reread the cryptic interpretations of the Seven Sages and all 147 Delphic maxims. Then he poured over every Pythia and priest of Apollo journal in his collection. The scarce answers he’d managed to discern were not comforting.

So far, the only reason he had found for an oracle to lose their foresight was if the future involved either their imminent death… or a new love interest. He scoffed at the notion of love.

Aside from Daisy’s unwelcome advances, there hadn’t been an interested woman in his life for at least fifteen years. Not a living or well-adjusted woman anyway. Love was not on many of his patients’ minds, and his clinical bedside manner prevented him from seeing them in a romantic light. They were there for his help, not his affection.

Other things he’d stumbled upon suggested that his foresight might be stunted because he’d strayed too far from the Fate’s chosen path for him. He had been ordered to procreate. The line of Phemonoe had to carry on, and he wasn’t getting any younger.

Could it be possible that the Fates were sending him a companion? Was that why he’d stopped gleaning the future? If so, he thought, their timing was shit. His reflection in the office window looked tired, his gray hair sticking out from the knot he’d tied it in before his sauna meditations. How on earth was he expected to attract a mate in these conditions? Death certainly seemed the more likely option.

It was past four in the morning, but he was still nowhere near sleep. His head spun with so many possibilities, a terrible whirlwind of self-projected outcomes, each one more disquieting than the last.

He took a sharp breath and blinked stiffly, breaking eye contact with his reflection as he closed an open book. He would go for a run, he decided. A run brought everything into perspective. Plus, if he had to start courting women, he needed to stay in shape. Maybe the Fates would speak to him then. He would check later in his morning tea leaves.

He stepped back through the bookcase entrance into his room and changed into a pair of gym shorts and sneakers. Then he untied his hair and brushed it out before tying it back again. The reflection in the mirror above his dresser didn’t look much better, but he knew that wouldn’t be happening until he managed a full night of sleep.

It was still dark outside when he slipped out the side exit of Orpheus House. He stretched his arms across his chest as he made his way around to the front parking lot where there was more lighting. Once there, he paused to touch his toes and do a few lunges. Then he took off at a jog toward Caveat Road.

Spero Heights wasn’t a large town by any stretch of the imagination. But it was more than enough for their little trio of a council to run. He’d been full of hopeful naivety when the project was first born. Pictures of crystalline utopias had danced through his head like sugarplums, and he imagined it had been the same for Graham and Selena. It took very little time for reality to sink in and ground them.

Spero Heights was a success. He could say that much. It just didn’t come as clean or as easy as the fairytale they’d dreamed up. They
were
helping people. Though not everyone who came to them for help. And they
were
holding the place together financially and legally. As long as no one looked too closely, Spero Heights was just another tiny town not worthy of a dot on the map. And they intended to keep it that way.

On the outside, the town wasn’t so incredibly unique, though for anyone who stayed more than a few days, the oddities began to raise questions. Most of all, it was the Midnight District they had to worry about.

The town was amicably split for convenience sake. The four blocks that sat just north of town square catered to the vampires and nocturnal crowd, and was appropriately named the Midnight District. The vampires got along well enough with everyone else—there was a strict non-violence policy that granted all residents protection from each other, and warned them against inflicting violence on the human visitors that arrived in droves one weekend a year.

The peace had to be vigilantly maintained if they wanted to protect the community, and that was why Dr. Delph had been commissioned to weed out troublemakers and outsiders before they became a problem. So far, he’d done a pretty good job. But if the Fates didn’t cut him some slack soon, he wouldn’t be able to vouch for anyone. Selena would just
hate
that, he thought with a dry grin.

Dr. Delph cut west around town square and caught sight of the Chase Clan as they crept back up through the woods and toward the Crimson Moon, the abandoned theater Zelda had turned into a pub. The wolves lifted their muzzles in the air at him, and Dr. Delph waved back. A caramel-colored wolf howled, Logan showing off for his pack, before it trotted through the back door of the bar.

He noticed more movement as he neared the Midnight District. Bathory’s Bistro and Amour de Sang were closing their doors. A few of the fanged slipped out under the blue streetlights and quickly headed down the sidewalks. The sun would be rising soon.

Along the north stretch of the square there were a few businesses that kept odd hours. They weren’t officially part of the Midnight District, but they toed the line between the two factions, serving both sun and moon worshippers. Ben Macaulay’s shop was especially rare, his door being open around the clock. Though his windows were dark this particular morning, since he was watching the twins so Selena could run under the full moon.

East of the Midnight District, the cheese factory, along with its gift shop and parking lot, took up four blocks. The gift shop faced the square, where Fromage Road and Monroe Street met. Further down Monroe, the local locksmith, a defunct wizard named Phil, and Edwin, Dr. Delph’s wererat mechanic, were standing outside their respective shops, enjoying coffee and conversation. They paused to wave at the doctor as he ran past.

Dr. Delph nodded at them and ran another six laps around the square. The space in the center was a grassy plane, dotted with fountains and garden nooks. An open-air pavilion was in the very center, strung with white lights. It was often used for community events and gatherings.

When his sides began to ache, Dr. Delph made his way up through a rose garden in the southeast corner of the square and drank from a water fountain fashioned into the corner of a low rock wall. Then he found a nice patch of grass and stretched into a comfortable warrior pose just as the sun broke over the trees surrounding Spero Heights. He closed his eyes and let it warm his face and light up the insides of his eyelids.

A cool wind combed through the square, and a pair of birds chirped from a redbud tree overhead.
Nature
. Maybe this was what he’d been missing. The salt slab in his sauna just wasn’t cutting it anymore. He needed to connect with the Fates on a more personal level. He hummed out a few low
oms
and focused on his breath, trying to calm his mind.

When he opened his eyes, Zelda stood beside him, mirroring his tree pose. A nest of dreadlocks were knotted on top of her head, and a racerback tank top revealed her lean, muscled arms. They’d grown more prominent from her wolfish workouts.

“Good morning, Dr. Delph,” she said with a smile as she repositioned her heel against the inside of her opposite thigh.

He nodded to her. “Doctor Fulmen.”

Zelda didn’t need to recover like the rest of her pack. She wasn’t a werewolf. Her shift was aided by an enchanted amulet that decorated an onyx necklace at her throat. Still, Logan had taken her as his mate, and the rest of the wolves had accepted her as their alpha perhaps even more so than Logan. She’d earned their trust and respect in her human doctor form, long before they ever knew she was a witch.

“My tea leaves were floating this morning,” Zelda said casually as she stretched down into dolphin pose.

Dr. Delph felt a pinch of annoyance, but he bit his tongue. If the Fates wanted to speak to others, that was their business. “How many?” he asked.

Zelda stood up straight and turned to look at him. Her brows knit together with concern as if confused that he didn’t already know. “All of them.”

Dr. Delph was speechless. He wasn’t about to confess his defects to anyone outside of the council. There was too great a chance it would invite rebellion, and with Graham away and Selena rearing infant pups, now was not the time.

He opened his mouth, waiting for something that didn’t taste like a lie to come to him, but was quickly saved by the roar of a delivery truck and the hiss of its breaks as it stopped in the middle of Fanfare Road.

The driver popped open his door and scrambled out, quickly rushing to the other side of the vehicle. He spotted them on the grass and waved his arms over his head.

“Call 911!” he shouted. Then he opened the passenger door and a young, blond woman spilled out. He tried to hold her upright, but she convulsed against him, her eyes rolling back in her head and the whites glowing softly.

Dr. Delph was incapacitated by the sight of her, until Zelda squeezed his arm.

“Come on.” She pulled him toward the truck. “We’re doctors,” she told the man. “We can help.”

Chapter Nine

Lia hadn’t expected to escape her morning
condition
. That was inevitable, she knew. But as the truck had climbed the hilly road up to Spero Heights, she began to panic. The sun was seconds away from rising before she’d worked up the nerve to say something to the truck driver, and by then, it was too late.

Her vision should have been a light one. They were far from any big city, but even a light vision was disturbing for most to witness. She remembered the look on her mother’s face after she’d had her first at the tender age of nine. They’d taken her to doctor after doctor, strange men who ran tests upon tests and prescribed every drug in their arsenals. All to no effect.

Her mother finally accused her of faking seizures for attention. After that, Lia began locking herself in the bathroom every morning and praying that she didn’t wake her parents.

When Spero Heights came into view, the streetlamps were already clicking off, signaled by the sun working its way up to the horizon. Lia looked at the truck driver and opened her mouth.
Don’t be alarmed. It’s perfectly fine. I’m not dying. This will pass soon.
She wanted so badly to get the words out, but they froze in her throat. Then the sun arrived, its bewitching rays finding her an instant later.

“Miss? Miss!” The truck driver slammed on the breaks, throwing her forward. Her seatbelt locked up just shy of her face meeting the dash. A moment later, she was being pulled out of the truck.

“We’re doctors,” someone said.
No! No doctors.
Lia shook harder as she struggled against the dawn’s spell. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. She had to snap out of it and get away from them. But her vision was determined to have its way with her first.

She felt several people lift her and begin moving her across the street. “My clinic is just around the corner,” a man said.

Lia wanted to scream. The face marring up her mind was more vivid than she’d anticipated, but she had a hard time focusing on it with her attention so divided. It didn’t matter, she thought. Saunders wouldn’t be quizzing her anytime soon. That fact would have been more comforting if not for her current situation.

“Let’s lay her down in here.” Her head sank into a pillow and she smelled citrus and tea tree oil. It reminded her of the health food stores her father had taken her to as a child, when he was fighting his own battle with cancer and trying every fad supplement on the market. Lia had tried those too. There was no vitamin cure for her affliction.

Once the vision dissipated, Lia sat up straight with a gasp. Her head pounded and she rolled off the bed and lost her footing. A pair of arms caught her before her knees could hit the tile floor.

“Whoa there. Take it easy.”

Lia looked up at the man, shock startling her into silence as he sat her back down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t look like much of a doctor in his gym shorts and sweaty tee shirt. A man bun was tied at the back of his head, and though his hair was silver, his face had a youthful glow about it. Light stubble lined his jaw, and dark, gray eyes took her in with curious concern.

“You had quite an episode. Are you on any medications?” he asked.

Lia thought of the new drugs Saunders had given her, and then of the safes lining the closet shelf in the rundown apartment she’d fled. The man’s eyes blinked in surprise, and she quickly looked away from him.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re safe here, and you can tell me anything. Doctor-patient confidentiality.” He placed a hand over his heart as if making a solemn vow to her.

“I should go,” Lia said, trying to stand again. Her head throbbed and she sat back down just as quickly.

“I really shouldn’t release you until I’ve done a proper evaluation.”

Lia’s heart raced, her childhood memories feuding with the remnants of her vision. “I don’t have insurance,” she rasped in between several deep breaths.

“You’re going to hyperventilate. You need to relax. Also, Orpheus House is a community-funded facility. No insurance or copay required,” he said with a tender smile. “Why don’t you rest a bit first? I’ll go shower before we begin.”

Lia’s heart sank. He was going to lock her in there, probably until his shift was over and he could pawn her off on the next doctor. As if he’d read her mind, the man touched her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“I’ll be back in half an hour. Cross my heart,” he said.

A pink flush filled his cheeks as he left the room. He paused at the doorway and turned back to her. “I’m Christian, by the way. Christian Delph. Welcome to Spero Heights, Lia.” He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

Lia considered checking to see if it was locked, but even if she wasn’t trapped there, she had no idea where she would go. All she knew about the little town was its name—and that it had its very own little prison for all the crazies like her.

This new doctor seemed harmless enough. He wouldn’t be able to fix her, but maybe she could humor him until he gave her a clean bill of health and let her out of there. Then maybe she could find someplace to lay low that wasn’t a hospital. It didn’t seem like such an unreasonable goal.

She looked down at the bed she was sitting on. The sheets smelled fresh. And the mattress was soft and even. When had she last slept? When Saunders transported her across the state in the trunk of his new cruiser?

The silence in the small room tickled her ears. Mixed with the pounding in her head and the hollow ache in her stomach, she could hardly focus on anything, let alone a realistic escape plan. What she needed was food and rest. The former would have to wait, but she decided she could at least manage the latter.

She peeled off her grimy hoodie and dropped it to the floor before curling up under the soft bedsheets and closing her eyes. As sleep claimed her, her mind vaguely wrapped around the fact that she hadn’t told the doctor her name.
How had he known?
She didn’t contemplate it long. She just wanted to get out of there before his death. Witnessing it once had been enough.

Soon her breath slowed and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.