“Never. Your vows included, ‘forsaking all others.’ You plan on giving up all your devoted little witches? Like Leilanie and the hundreds of others you have under your thumb?”
Now Omar was standing right in front of Michelle. “Give it up Michelle. I’m stronger than you.”
She was glad his eyes were back to their normal dark color. Still, Omar was an overpowering presence up close. She felt an overwhelming urge to back up, flee, move away from him because he was so frightening and dangerous. Another intense urge, warring against the danger and urge to run, was for her to move closer to the beautiful man. She knew he was mesmerizing her with his eyes, his amazing charisma, and quickly lowered her gaze.
Michelle shook her head. “No Omar. I’m stronger in all the ways that count. I have friends and a family that I love. I have a man I love, and live in a beautiful place. I’m so much richer than you. All those things arm me, make me stronger and more formidable than you because I’m happy with my life, just as it is.”
As Michelle and Omar spoke, Heather saw Rod move off to the side of the room. He picked up a chair, swinging it around, hefting it in his his hand. Probably checking to see if he could bash Omar with it. That was good. They sure needed someone with a weapon, although she was afraid it might not work against real psychic powers.
Heather had expected that Rod would attack Omar immediately, which would have been very unwise. Omar would surely kill him.
Heather watched Vincent as he went off in the opposite direction and pick up a heavy microscope off of a desk.
Good, she thought, they’d close in on Omar in a pincer, one on each side. Maybe they could take him by surprise. Maybe she could help distract Omar. Heather stood up.
Mike glanced at her and then stood up beside her. They went toward Michelle and Omar.
The three, Michelle, Heather and Mike stood in a line in front of Omar.
“If you value your friends, Michelle, you’ll go quietly back to your hospital room,” Omar said ominously.
“Where they’ll stuff me with hormones and do surgery again? Just let me go home, Omar. Leave my friends alone.”
Omar shook his head. “You can’t fight me on this. You need to see a little demonstration? You think you have power? Just watch me ‘stir the air’.”
Omar waved his arms above his head.
It was like a hurricane hit. Papers from scientific reports, journals and books flew around the place like giant snowflakes, coming so forcefully at the three standing in front of Omar it was like being smacked by something much more substantial than mere paper. Scientists in the lab evidently stored a lot of paper, journals and books. They were all battered, wacked, and pummeled. Trying to fend off the torrent, they bent forward, protecting their faces from the flying objects.
Glass beakers tumbled and broke, a large bookshelf toppled over with a crash. The smell of strong chemicals tainted the air.
Vincent was hit in the head by a heavy flying book and he went down. Rod, too, was battered and he dropped the chair so he could use his arms to protect himself.
Omar raised his hands again and the deluge stopped. All the papers and books fell, littering the floor.
“How about a little lightning?” Omar said. “Or, maybe a fire?”
Mike turned around and walked out the front door, away from them all.
Heather turned, watching him leave. She felt the blood drain out of her face, she was so shocked. In a way she could understand. This was frightening stuff. But Heather truly believed he would stand by her. Her disappointment was so profound she felt her eyes prick with tears. Surprised at her emotional reaction, not wanting anyone see her cry, she blinked hard to keep tears from falling.
Heather didn’t have much time to contemplate the unique sensation: what true heartbreak felt like. Omar was speaking again.
“I know you, Michelle. You love your friends. How about I give them a little hug? Spread the love around. My kind of hug. A tiny squeeze.”
Heather felt herself hurl face forward to the floor, and then it seemed like she was being pressed into the floor by a heavy object. It was suffocating. The breath whooshed out of her lungs. When she tried to breathe, it seemed pulling in air took all her energy, like her lungs had collapsed.
She turned her head and could see Vincent and Rod were also on the floor. Rod was making weak swimming movements with his arms, trying to get up. Vincent was quiet. She hoped he wasn’t badly hurt, because he wasn’t moving at all. He’d already been knocked down by a heavy blow to the head.
Michelle was screaming, over and over, “Stop it, Omar. Let them go, you sadistic bastard.”
“Heather is like a pretty little flower. A fragile doll. So very delicate,” Omar said, softly. “When her ribs crack with my hug, it will sound like the snap of chop-sticks breaking.”
Chapter 29
Michelle could hear Heather wheeze painfully with each slow, excruciating breathe she managed to draw in. She was afraid Heather might pass out, then stop breathing altogether.
She gazed over at Rod. He was able to move a little. Looking straight into Michelle’s eyes, his mouth turned up on the corners in a slight smile and he mouthed, Love You. He probably thought he would die and those would be his last words, his last thought.
Vincent wasn’t moving at all. His eyes were closed.
“Stop it. Let them go,” Michelle screamed at Omar.
He lifted one eyebrow and shook his head indifferently. “No can do, my darling wife. They know too much.”
Michelle knelt down and grabbed hold of Heather’s shoulder, trying to turn her over so her breathing would be easier, but it seemed like Heather was stuck to the floor and weighed a
