Page 2 of The Healer and the Vampire
He let everyone except the woman before him disappear from his vision and his awareness. It was just the two of them, focused and connecting. He could clear her mind, diminish her fear, and plant a thought that would push her to get out and to seek more from life. It didn't interfere with her free will but eliminated the blocks that she had constructed over the years that were keeping her tied down.
Patrick thought it was mind games and dime store magics, but as long as they paid, he wasn't going to stop. He gave Conrad no respect and very little freedom. Conrad was now nineteen, and for the past four years, they've taken on hundredsof clients from the area, always the ones with enough money to pay for what they wanted.
Patrick and Aunt Lydia were discussing branching out to one of the larger cities, but Conrad was at his limit physically and emotionally. He'd been on the back porch contemplating how hard it would be to disappear. They wouldn't willingly let him leave, and if he did try, they would retaliate. They would search and follow, so he had to make a good plan before making his move.
When Conrad finished, he let go of the lady's hand and leaned back on the stool. "How do you feel?" He asked, knowing that he had helped her. His handlers thought he was a fake, but it didn't matter. It was better that no one knew the truth because he was banking on them not chasing a fake forever, and at some point, just letting him disappear.
She smiled and reached out again for Conrad's hand. "Thank you." She said, took a deep breath, and smiled. "Thank you." She repeated, and it was a response he was used to. Most people don't know how to describe what they're feeling, so they simply say thank you, and that was enough, and that was okay.
“You’re welcome, ma'am."
CHAPTER TWO
“Go get your car and meet me at the corner of Gardenville and 5th in that large parking lot," Patrick spoke softly but gruff, making sure no one else heard him. Conrad glanced up at him speculatively but did not comment; he just gave a curt nod.
"It's time I cut contact with the relatives. I can do this without their help. You've gotten a half assed reputation now, and people are starting to come to me seeking your help. Lydia and the boys were useful in the beginning with her contacts, but they're becoming a drain on my income." He stated and started walking over to their car.
Conrad didn’t linger; he had a plan forming in his head, and it was important that he got out of there as soon as possible. He controlled himself and didn't run to his car for fear he would look suspicious. He walked and looked back over his shoulder a couple of times. Patrick was talking with Aunt Lydia, with her sons standing behind her, and nobody looked happy.
By the time Conrad got to his car, he could hear that voices were being raised, so he jumped in and took off. The little freedom he felt being in his car driving away from that mess ofa family planted an idea that he immediately embraced, and he stepped on the gas. It was time to go far, far away.
His thoughts went to his brother Patrick and just how mad he would be. Regardless, Conrad kept driving north, and he had no destination in mind. He figured he would know where to stop when it felt right. His phone started ringing after about half an hour of driving. It was Patrick, and each message got angrier than the last. Conrad rolled down his window and felt the cool wind on his face as he connected to the interstate.
He'd driven for over four hours before pulling into a roadside motel and getting a room. After he checked in and settled into one of the less-than-spectacular rooms, he pulled out his phone and went through all the messages and voice mails. He'd shut his phone off after about an hour of driving and didn't realize that Patrick had left nearly fifty messages, maybe more.
Patrick had been gone for most of his childhood and only came back into his life after their mother left. He was fifteen, and Patrick was twenty and on his own. He wasn't doing well, but he was surviving as a short-order cook in a town twenty miles over from Conrad's home in Baton Rouge.
Patrick moved in and took over his care, receiving a stipend from the state for his trouble. Patrick was there, but he was never really present, and that was all Conrad could say about the guy. He wasn't a caregiver; he was just there and never involved himself in Conrad's life.
To the social workers, he put on a good show, and so did Conrad, because a disconnected brother was better than foster care any day of the week. Patrick ran a few side gigs that Conrad soon learned were scams and cons, but nothing that got him into too much trouble. They lived their own lives and resided in thesame home, and that was the extent of their relationship until the day Patrick discovered that Conrad appeared to have a gift that he could exploit.
That day, everything changed, and suddenly Conrad was a tool and Patrick was running his life. Four years later, life was miserable and draining. Patrick had enlisted the help of Aunt Lydia, who brought her boys along, and the con just kept getting bigger. Conrad had never known of an Aunt Lydia until the day she showed up with Patrick.
She introduced them to clients of means, and Patrick was hooked. Her connections brought in real money, according to Patrick, and that was about a year and a half ago. The relationship started to sour a few months ago when she started to fight Patrick for control of the con. She wanted a bigger cut, and she wanted to train Lonny to be back up for Conrad. She didn't like having Conrad as the only star.
It was all getting to be too much, and in his heart, Conrad knew that he should have left the second he turned eighteen, but he didn't. He was sorry to say that the money was attractive, and he knew he was actually helping people most of the time.
Now it was time to live his own life and leave the scams and the cheats behind him. It was nearly midnight when he finally relaxed enough to close his eyes and sleep. In the morning, he planned to get back on the road and continue north. Something in his heart was telling him to go north, and he always followed his heart.
Remi found that he remained on edge throughout the evening. His dinner with Javier and Sasha was pleasant and informative. They even discussed the possibility of setting up physical protections at the Hotel, like the border protectionsutilized to secure the Pack lands. It was interesting, but something that would require permission from a higher office, and Javier said he would bring it up with the Alpha.
On his way back to his room, he noticed the same stillness, but this time he recognized the feeling as a sign that something was on the horizon. Remi had an astute sense for danger or change, and he was rarely wrong. It was either for him personally or there was something coming concerning the Hotel and his current assignment.
He couldn't ascertain whether it was positive or negative; his ability was limited. Although such portents in the past were usually warnings, he assumed this one was as well. When he got to his room, he put in a call to his friend Victor, a guard at the Chateau. They had come up through the ranks together, although Remi found his specialty in tech and surveillance, whereas Victor preferred to be a hands-on protection specialist.
Victor had a sharp intellect and varied interests. The man knew a little about a lot, and Remi valued him as a good friend and an important sounding board. Victor's advice and direction were usually spot on. This situation was touchy considering he was working within wolf territory and all his actions would be closely scrutinized.
“When did you first get the inkling that something was up?” Victor asked.
"I thought it was when I was on the fourth floor heading to my assigned room, but actually, I sensed a shift in the air the minute I entered the Indigo Hotel. I wrote it off as being in an unfamiliar area, but now I think it was the beginning." Remi tried to explain what he was feeling. Victor had talked him through these episodes before.
“The beginning?” He prompted.
"Each time I sense it, the feelings are stronger and more pointed. It's been three times now that I felt a stillness and the impression of something coming." Remi walked over and poured himself a whiskey from the bottle on the counter, taking a long swig before continuing. "I can't say that it feels bad or upsetting, but there is a restlessness involved. I definitely feel off is the only word that really seems to fit.”
"All I can say is to be watchful and aware of those around you. Is there anyone that you've met who has caused you concern? Sometimes the issue can be a bad vibe from a local." He suggested, and Remi conceded that vibes had gotten in the way before.
"There's an assistant front desk manager who gives me pause. He's too interested and too quiet, and his expressions signal deceit. But he's not my problem, so why am I trying to make him my problem?" Remi gave a short laugh.
