“Yes, damn you, now let me go.”
My friend slowly released his grip on her upper arm, a tentative look filling his face. She jerked it away and began rubbing the spot where he had been clamped on. I could tell by the way Ben had positioned himself that he was expecting her to bolt, but to his surprise, she stayed put and simply glared back at him.
“Sorry if I hurt ya’,” he apologized.
She answered him in a flat tone. “Aye, you did.”
“Yeah, well that fuckin’ kick wasn’t exactly pleasant either,” he offered in reply.
“Be glad I actually like you then,” she returned flatly. “With someone else, I would have aimed differently.”
Ben shook his head, then said, “Listen, just stay here and calm down. I’m gonna see what I can do, but I’m not makin’ any promises.”
“Thank you,” Felicity said.
“Yeah, well don’t thank me yet, I’m prob’ly not gonna get anywhere.”
“For trying, Ben,” she returned. “Thank you for at least trying.”
“What are we going to do, Rowan?” Felicity asked.
She was parked in her seat, and she had reclined it even farther than it had been earlier. The light of the streetlamp above was filtering in through the tinted windows, bringing a dim glow to the interior that made her pale complexion look just that much more ghostly. She had her eyes closed, and she was slowly massaging her temples.
“Wait, I guess,” I replied. “It’s all we can do.”
“I’m having a hard time with that,” she said.
“I know, me too,” I agreed.
Ben had been gone for almost half an hour now. We had watched the goings on for a while but finally lost sight of him after he followed one of the detectives into the convenience store. Apparently Constance was already in there, because she had disappeared long before he did.
We waited expectantly, milling around in front of the van and watching for any sign of his return. However, when he didn’t come back out of the building for several minutes, it became obvious that his earlier assessment had been the correct one. We weren’t going anywhere for a while.
We eventually gave up the anxious vigil and climbed into the van to escape the chill of the night air. We were both pushing the limits of exhaustion, and it felt good to have someplace reasonably comfortable to sit. Had it not been for the emotional fuel we were both burning, I suspect we would have fallen asleep where we sat.
I yawned and then asked, “So how’s your head doing?”
“Killing me.”
“Yeah…” I murmured. “I know the feeling.”
“What about you?”
“Dull ache,” I answered. “But you seem to be taking the brunt of it.”
“Yes I am,” she muttered.
We fell quiet for a few moments, and I rested my eyes as I listened to her breathing. Her respirations seemed to cycle, coming shallow for a measure, then deepening, and even holding on occasion. She was obviously fighting with some pain, and she reminded me of myself when I was dealing with the lingering effects of channeling.
She suddenly drew in a deep breath, but instead of simply exhaling she spoke. Her words were offered as a matter-of-fact statement, devoid of emotion. “Kimberly is going to die.”
“You don’t know that,” I told her.
“Aye, I do. I can feel it. She can’t take much more.”
“She might have a better constitution than you give her credit for,” I offered. “You never know.”
My wife remained silent with the exception of repeating the series of panting breaths. I continued watching her as she worked through the pain and began to wonder about what she was experiencing. There was a very guarded feeling about her, but I’d paid little attention until now.
“Felicity, you aren’t still connected with her are you?” I finally asked, trying to keep the concern out of my voice.
She gave a slight nod of her head. “Yes.”
“Exactly how connected are you?”
“Enough to know. To feel.”
“So, what are you feeling?” I pressed.
“Pain” was her single word answer.
“You’re sure it’s not residual?” I mused. “From earlier?”
“No, it’s definitely new,” she replied, still not opening her eyes, then murmured in a disgusted tone, “He’s hurting her again, the braidean.”
I continued watching her, and for the first time noticed that she would occasionally twitch. “Have you stayed connected the entire time? I mean ever since the seizure earlier?”
“On and off,” she said. “More on than off, lately.”
“Are you having trouble grounding?”
“No.”
“Then why are you…” I let my voice trail off, falling silent for a moment, and then proceeded forward with a new question. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Aye.”
“Felicity, that’s dangerous.” This time I couldn’t hide the thick rush of anxiety that spread its cold fingers through my chest.
“You should know,” she chided.
“This isn’t the time for that,” I told her.
“She needs me, Row.”
I stared at her for a moment, furrowed my brow as what she said sank in, and then half-asked, half-stated in earnest, “Honey, tell me that you’re not trying to ground out her pain.”
She didn’t answer.
“Felicity, talk to me,” I insisted
She swallowed hard, then let out an involuntary whimper before sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly. Still, she refused to answer.
“You are, aren’t you?” I demanded.
“Aye,” she finally said.
“How bad is it?”
She winced, then rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. They were moist with the tears she was barely holding at bay. “It’s not good.”
“Then you’re going to have to stop it,” I urged.
“I don’t know if I can anymore.”
“Gods, Felicity…” I muttered.
“I know…” she replied softly. She took another deep breath and then shuddered for a moment. “At least it’s not as bad as at the mall.”
“Maybe I did some decent magick for a change,” I offered.
“Aye, maybe so…” she said and then paused to swallow hard once again before adding, “I think maybe it helps being away from where it happened too.”
Her words rang like a bell inside my skull, awakening my grey matter from its tired slumber. Muddy thoughts parted, allowing a clear and frightening idea to advance forward. I dwelled on the sudden revelation for several minutes as we sat in near silence, the only sounds being those of Felicity’s labored breathing.
I finally interrupted the quiet atmosphere with the calm statement of two simple words, “Stay here.”
I turned in my seat and jerked the side door of the van open, then climbed out onto the lot.
