Page 1 of Dark Medicine

CHAPTER ONE

Ireland was everything Adam Thorn thought it would be. Cold, gray, rainy, cloudy, and positively miserable. They arrived only two days before, and already he wanted to go home; home to his lonely house, his lonely practice, and, well, loneliness. The only thing stopping him was that his best friend, Kane Jackson, was marrying the love of his life, Aislinn Carter, and he wouldn’t ruin that for anything. However, the rain just might make him reconsider the sincerity of his friendship.

Dublin could be a dark and dreary place, even with sunshine. The gray stone buildings, cobbled streets, and centuries-old churches stood vigilant, casting creepy shadows on the streets as if daring the rain to mar their beautiful structures. All Adam could see was misery and depression, yet the people seemed happy enough. Maybe that was a combination of Guinness and Jameson.

Today, Aislinn and Kane were visiting the home she inherited from her mother. Aislinn had never visited Ireland before, but when Kane proposed, and tumblers clicked into place, they both knew it was time.

The world seemed to right itself when Kane and Aislinn found one another a few months back. Not just for them, but all of them cursed with the strange gifts. It was as if all the pain and confusion, the loneliness and separation disappeared for Kane. War changes every man, but it especially changes a man with unique gifts. Kane was a changed man.

Adam took a sip of the hot tea and stared out into the dark street, the evening light moving in fast with the rain. He jotted down a few notes that were floating in his head, notes about how their band of misfits found one another. More important, the circumstances surrounding their odd gifts.

The word gift was probably a stretch of the use of the word. It wasn’t exactly the word Adam would give it, but it was the word Aislinn used. She was so positive about life in general, be damned if anyone would disagree with her. His friend was one lucky man. Aislinn was beautiful, intelligent, and gifted.

Since childhood, Aislinn was plagued with violent visions about future crimes. Most of her life she spent seeing only murders, gruesome, grizzly, terrible murders. When she met Kane, the nightmares took a turn and started to include happy things as well. The Brennan sisters helped her with coping skills, but Adam suspected that Kane was a conduit or psychic bridge of some sort for Aislinn. Kane was able to enter Aislinn’s visions and steer her clear of some of the violence. Combine that with Kane’s gifts, his undeniable and remarkable gift for crime solving, and the two were a powerful duo.

Adam didn’t understand it all yet. With his own uniqueness, he knew that when he touched his friends, there were unusual neurons firing in similar parts of the brain. He also noted that the brain activity in the frontal cortex and the amygdala were highly active.

Adam knew that his friend, Kane, possessed gifts long before he met Aislinn. Having served together in the Army, Kane, on more than one occasion, had alerted troops to someone’s potential treachery even within their own ranks. Kane, it seemed, had the ability to ‘feel’ when an individual might be good or evil, lying or telling the truth. He was even able to discern the person’s level of evil.

Adam, blessed or cursed with his own gift, could see the differences in both of their biological functions. As a doctor, his was a good gift to have, but it meant nothing if he couldn’t reveal it to the world or his colleagues. He couldn’t reveal his gift to anyone, or he would be ostracized from the medical community and most likely institutionalized. His abilities, however, had saved the lives of hundreds of men and women.

Adam possessed the ability to see inside the body. In his mind, it was as if everybody he touched was open and visible to him. He could see every artery, vein, organ, muscle, every drop of blood. When a patient lay before him, he could quickly ascertain whether they needed surgery and exactly where the surgical need was located. A desirable skill for a surgeon, but one that couldn’t be spoken of.

Two other members of their little family, Phillip “Flip” Cho and Van “Spook” Rogers, also possessed unusual gifts. So far, the only similarity for all of them was that their fathers had all worked at or were stationed at Sierra Depot, an Army outpost. It was the only commonality, that and the mysterious pink dust they remembered seeing during their childhoods.

Adam refilled his cup from the small teapot. The tiny pink roses covered the dainty pot, the matching cup and saucer feeling a bit small for Adam’s large hands. The older woman behind the counter brought out two hot scones and set them on the table.

“There ‘ya are, luv. My famous lemon scones,” she said, smiling through rosy cheeks. “Here’s a bit of butter and cream for ‘ya as well. Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling up at her.

The weather might be miserable, but the people were proving to be friendly and kind. Tomorrow, they would all be meeting with Angela Brennan and her sister, Caroline. Both were professors in paranormal, parapsychology, and dream study. Adam was a man of science, but science damned sure couldn’t explain what was happening with all of them.

He bit into the warm scone, and an audible moan escaped his lips. He closed his eyes as the lemony zest of the pastry coated his mouth. Opening his eyes, the older woman was smiling at him from behind the counter, visible pride in her work. He nodded at her and gave a quick wink, and he was rewarded with the sweetest giggle he’d ever heard.

Maybe Ireland wouldn’t be so bad after all.

CHAPTER TWO

Fiona Graham slammed the door of her small apartment off Arran Quay and the River Liffey. It was a dismal day, even by Ireland’s standards. Her tight black pencil skirt was soaked, her white sweater drenched as well. She was smart enough to leave the house in her Wellies this morning but forgot the umbrella. Topping it all off, her boss was a complete asshole who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

She could only give a small grin, knowing that his mental torture of her would end soon. Immediately, Fiona crossed herself and begged forgiveness. There was nothing to be done for the man.

Peeling off the wet skirt, she tossed it in the corner with the sweater and moved toward her dresser, where she pulled out a pair of long running tights, matching running top, and water-resistant hoodie. All she needed was a good long run, and she would feel better. It always made her feel better. She pulled the sports bra over her head, her small breasts pressed flat against her chest.

Slipping into her favorite pair of running shoes, she looked in the mirror and gathered her long hair into a tight braid that rested on her back. Grabbing her key and cell phone, she left the apartment once more. At the entrance to the building, she secured her key and placed her phone in the inside pocket of the water-resistant jacket. With her headphones in place and Ed Sheeran blasting in her ears, she was on her way.

Heading east toward the Ha’Penny Bridge, she started slow, letting her muscles warm up, and then picked up her pace and found her rhythm. As ahigh school and collegiate runner, Fiona had outrun nearly all of her competitions, even trying out for the Olympic team once. Her Olympic trial hadn’t ended well. A competitor intentionally bumped her at the curve of the last leg of her ten-kilometer race and sent her tumbling. The referees didn’t call it, and Fiona’s career was done.

Her father, an engineer who contracted with governments all over the world, allowed her to finish her studies in America. Fiona was grateful, as the full-ride athletic scholarship meant no student loans and no student debt. With a finance degree in hand, she left America and headed back to Ireland, where she thought her life would fall into place.

Two years ago, her parents died in a house fire in South Africa, where they were living at the time. It was unexpected and devastating for Fiona. Only her parents knew her secrets, her parents and her deceased brother. They were so close. They were more like siblings than parents. She felt the sting of tears and blinked, forcing them back.

Turning over the bridge, she ran on the opposite side of the River Liffey, dodging rain-soaked pedestrians and workers rushing to get home. This was her time. The time when she was able to clear her head and not worry about anything or anyone. She didn’t think about Mr. Malone, with the fast hands and lude glares. She didn’t think about her ex-boyfriend who cheated on her. She didn’t think about her ex-girlfriend, who cheated with her ex-boyfriend. No sir. This was her time to think of nothing.

Or everything.

Fiona turned on Aston Place and raced past the Hardrock Café, filled with tourists and locals alike. The noise was deafening, and, in her opinion, the food was only fair at best. She preferred traditional Irish cuisine, but then again, it only made her think of her mother.

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