Page 41 of Heal Me

“It takes a tremendous amount of energy for me to tap into the power,” he says, giving his temples a quick rub.

“I have a feeling there’s more to the story,” I tell him.

“You’re right, but it’s a long story.”

“I’ve got the time.”

“Another time.” His usual easygoing demeanor is guarded by a huge wall. In fact, I can energetically feel a barrier he’s surrounded himself with. He laces his fingers through mine. “I’m not sure I could use my trick on you even if I wanted to. I would not call your mind weak.”

“Now I’m curious. Try and see if you can.”

His eyes flicker with light as he says, “Charlotte, let’s take a shower together. There’s a bench seat that will work nicely for what I have in mind.”

Stripping as I walk to my bathroom and turn on the shower, I smile triumphantly. “Nope, it didn’t work. But lucky for you, I agree with your plan.”

Chapter 18

Gabe

Teleporting to Memphis Magic, I’m greeted by Vivian Brooks. “Gabe, there you are. Sit down and tell me all about this Archangel business,” she says.

“Vivian, so nice to see you. I’m sorry, I don’t have time to discuss angelology.” I don’t know what she’s talking about, but if I sit down, I’ll hear all about it—and that would likely take all day. “Might I borrow your car? I have an urgent matter that needs tending, and I can’t use my teleportation trick.”

She reaches behind the counter and tosses me her keys. “If you’re wanting to take a certain someone out on a date, you should probably stop at a car wash and spray a little air freshener. I just got back from Tunica.”

“Thank you, Vivian,” I call. “I’ll return your car later this afternoon.”

There’s no time to ponder if she knows about me and Charlotte, or what Tunica has to do with air freshener, as I’m itching to take care of business.

Opening her car door, I’m assaulted by the overwhelming smell of cigarettes. Now I understand the need for air freshener. No matter. I’m not going to let a little secondhand smoke deter me from my mission.

Arriving at my destination—Wolf River Bend Mental Health Institute—I pass through security. My private investigator and fixer, Reginald, gave me the intel on my target and the basic layout of the facility. Even so, I couldn’t risk teleporting. Reginald has turned off the security cameras for my visit, but I’m still not going to risk it. There is quite a bit of Rumel in me, even if I don’t like to admit it.

Entering the facility, I go through more security and check in with a woman behind plexiglass at the front desk. I’m here before visitor’s hours, so I take a seat in a depressing waiting room.

A flustered woman’s trying to console a little boy pitching a tantrum, but he’s not having it. He takes his toy dinosaur and throws it across the waiting room and it lands by my feet. I pick it up and walk over and bend down. He’s still screaming but he eventually looks at me. “It’s alright, little man,” I tell him, handing him back his toy. Wanting to use my mind-bending power to calm him, I stop myself. I still can’t believe I used it—in front of Charlotte no less! Cracking open the door, my power wants to come out and play, whether I like it or not. And I don’t like it.

Returning to my seat, the child starts round two of wailing, but luckily, the woman takes the little boy outside. “Jake Summers,” an orderly calls. Jake Summers is the alias I’ve gone with for today’s little visit. The front desk attendant pays me no mind as I follow the middle-aged man in scrubs down a cold and clinical hallway that smells of bleach.

We stop at Room 203 and the orderly knocks. “Brad, you have a visitor,” he says as we enter the small room tinged yellow by the overhead fluorescent light.

“Thank you, Greg,” I say, taking a look at his name tag.

“You’re welcome. You have thirty minutes.”

“Oh, it won’t take me that long.” Stopping Greg, I quietly wipe his memory of me. I’ll get the front desk attendant on the way out.

I take a seat on a drab couch across from the energy vampire who kidnapped and raped Charlotte. No sir, this won’t take long at all. Brad’s sitting up in bed, mesmerized by the television, except it’s not turned on. I hope Damion hasn’t completely fucked with Brad’s mind, as I want the little energy vamp to appreciate exactly what is happening and why. “Hello, Brad Cunningham.”

“Who the hell are you?” Brad snaps his eyes to me. He was likely a decent-looking guy once upon a time, but today he’s looking rather haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and a gaunt face. His ghostly appearance isn’t helped by his white institution scrubs.

“A friend of Charlotte Patel’s,” I say easily, crossing one leg at the ankle.

“Charlotte,” he says as if savoring her name. “A little too thick for my liking, but she had good energy, and as it turned out, a tight cunt.”

And that’s all I need to hear as I shift into my angelic form. His eyes go wide and he tries to shirk away, but there’s no escaping me. “You think this little insane act will get you out of paying for your crime.” I shake my head and give him a smile, yanking him off the bed by his neck, his toes dancing, trying desperately to reach the floor. “Brad, my friend, you are gravely mistaken.”

“Who are you?” he wheezes.

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