Love Beyond Sanity

  That didn't mean she hadn't been a fabulous mother. She had. The best, really. Loving and affectionate.

  She ran her hands through his damp hair. The nurse had been nice enough to allow him to shower before he'd seen his family.

  "You need a haircut."

  Dismissively, he waved his hand in the air. "Doesn't much matter, I imagine."

  "I suppose the ladies will find it romantic." His mother sighed. "You look like one of those models I see on TV, or that actor who has grown so respectable but when he first started out had long blond hair and made girly movies."

  Jason couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. His poor mom, she could never remember the names of famous people.

  "The real question, mother, is what will the jury think of it." There he had said it. He might have just woken up but it was best to start as you intended to continue, and he meant to get the murder out in the open.

  "The jury?" His mother sat down on the edge of his bed touching his arm gently. He didn't mind the affection. She'd only seen him asleep for months. If she needed to reassure herself that he was real and awake, then he was happy to let her. Almost of its own volition, his mind wandered to Charma. What was she doing? Was she thinking of him? Would she like his mother? He shook his head. The woman who'd raised him had asked him a question and he needed to answer it.

  "I killed a man."

  Nodding, his mother's mouth took on a firm line. "I know and the stress of it was so much that it put you in a coma."

  Or he'd been captured and imprisoned in his own mind by a psychotic demon bent on world domination. But whatever worked.

  "I imagine now that I'm awake I'm going to have to face some sort of music."

  "No, darling, you will not." As he watched, she folded her hands in her lap in a gesture that meant what she was about to say was final. Of course, he'd never held to that, not since he'd been a small child. "It was taken care of. The man was a thug." Silently, he wondered when exactly she'd started using that word. Hell, he was surprised she even knew what it meant. Forcing himself to focus, he had a good idea what she was about to say and he wasn't at all happy about it. "Your father spoke to the mayor, to the chief of police, everyone. It was clearly self-defense."

  He wanted to argue, to rail against them handling things for him like they had when he'd been a child, but instead he sat quietly. If he was logical about this, then he would acknowledge this all was taken care of months ago while he was seemingly unconscious. What would it do to raise this problem now?

  It wasn't in his nature to let things go. Stubborn, Charma had called him. He needed to chew on this turn of events for a while and see where it came out. If he needed to, he would go and turn himself in.

  "What was the story? That I got hurt and put in a coma defending myself?"

  Nodding, she rose and crossed to the window. "That was it." He didn't miss that she'd turned her back on him. It meant she wanted to be through with this conversation.

  "How did they explain the massive amounts of electricity that shut down his bodily functions or destroyed him from the inside out?"

  Her shoulders stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about, darling."

  The small gesture at his remark spoke volumes to Jason. If he hadn't just lived through the demon fight or spent months stuck in his own head, he wouldn't have believed it. He was a smart man, he knew that. Smart people knew when to recognize something as truth.

  He stood, immensely glad that he no longer felt wobbly. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he felt her tense at his touch before she relaxed. For a moment, he stood silently with her, looking at the view from the window.

  It was dusk. The setting sun bathed the green grass and the fountains in an orange hue that spoke of peace and serenity, the opposite of how his soul felt at the moment.

  "You did a good job here, you and the other founders." He remembered when she had started the project and he had dismissed it as another one of her endless charitable endeavors. When he'd been asked to sit on the board of directors, he'd agreed, of course, but begrudgingly at best.

  "Thank you, son." She reached behind her and patted him on his arm.

  "It's very peaceful out there. I'm sure the patients that are aware of their surroundings are very grateful for it."

  Shadows seemed to be growing in front of his eyes as he watched the trees sway. Somewhere in the distance, a bell gonged seven times, and Jason's stomach rumbled.

  His mother whirled around. "You're hungry."

  "I will eat at some point." Wow. This was harder than he'd anticipated. "When did you first know I was different?"

  Looking at the floor, Sharon did him the courtesy of not pretending she didn't know what he was talking about. "The circumstances of your arrival were such that your father and I knew very early on that you would be unique." She crossed her hands in front of her and walked to her abandoned chair. Sitting down, she sighed. "How did you know?"

  "I could explain it to you, Mother, but I'm afraid it would scare you to death." Jason's eyes fell back to the shadows outside. There was something about them that made his skin crawl, something unnatural and evil. What was it about this place that drew that kind of creature to it?

  "There's not much that scares me, Jason."

  He nodded. "Okay then, well, I still don't want to tell you. Let's just start with what you know and move on from there. How did you find me?"

  "On my kitchen table." His mother started laughing. First it was a quiet laugh but it increasingly became hysterical as she continued with it.

  "Mom?" It was official, between Charma and his mother Jason had no idea what went on inside the heads of women.

  "I'm sorry." She sputtered. "It's just I've waited so long to say that aloud. I never thought I actually would." Sharon took a deep breath and he watched as she bit down on her lower lip to regain control. He moved to her but she raised her hand to stop him. "I'm okay now. I promise."

  "Why don't you tell me what happened and then I'll try to explain what I know as best I can."

  His mother got up. She walked briskly to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Are you an alien?"

  He shook his head. Any other circumstance he might have thought she joked. "No." Of course he didn't know if what he actually was would sit much better with her, but he wasn't going to get into that at the current moment.

  "Your father and I had been out. It was very late." She chewed on her lower lip. "I had been trying to get pregnant for two years. Your father used to joke he'd finally found a problem he couldn't pay to fix. His first two wives hadn't gotten pregnant either but the doctor's had said there were factors from both of us to blame for our infertility."

  "That must have been tough." He could picture them, both of them young, rich and terribly frustrated.

  "We had started looking into adoption."

  He'd heard this part of the story. "You always told me, since I suddenly appeared, that you never pursued that option."

  Nodding, her eyes were distant, and he wondered how real her memories were of that time, if she could still live in them. "So we came home. The staff that lived in our house was asleep. The ones who didn't live there had long since gone home. Your father shut the door behind him. I'd just hung up my coat when I heard the strangest noise. It sounded like a baby crying."

  "Ha." Jason couldn't help the laughter. "Dad must have flipped out when he saw a baby on the table."

  His mother's eyes were huge. "No, darling, he didn't. We both stood there in silence. I wanted to pick you up but I was afraid you'd vanish—poof—into the air. For a moment we both just stood still. Then your father turned to me and in the oddest voice he said, "Sharon, he's been given to us. We have to take care of him now." He picked you up, handed you to me. I checked into a hotel with you that night. Your father dismissed the entire staff the next morning, and we moved across country where no one would know you weren't mine."

  "That was smart planning."

  "I've
always wondered if we kidnapped you. Did we take you from your family?"

  Jason shook his head. "No, my family was already gone. Dad was right. I was given to you. You saved me." And he needed to find Charma and help her stop whatever was happening now.

  A noise outside caught his attention. It sounded like a small explosion but his mother didn't seem to notice. One lone tear streamed down her face. "You're going aren't you? Whatever happened when you killed that man has changed something, and you have to go."

  "The man coming after me was what changed things. I didn't even know what I was. You did a good job of hiding it." She was in danger. He knew that. The thing that had held him hostage and attacked them would not be satisfied with the way things had turned out. He pulled the necklace Charma had told Marina to give him from around his neck. "Here Mom, put this on. It was given to me by the woman who rescued me. Her name is Charma. I think she and I have a destiny together."

  His mother took the necklace and raised an eyebrow. "A girl? You met a girl while you were in here? How is that possible?"

  "It's complicated to say the very least. Wear it. Take Dad and go somewhere far away." He stalked to the window, looking out at the night sky. He could still see the shadows. That was wrong and he was no longer going to write off the oddities of life as having logical explanations. Magic was real. "Go to the Caribbean. Stay with your sister and her husband. Don't leave there for a while."

  When would it be safe for them? He had no idea. Walking back to his mother, he put an arm around her shoulders. "Go now. Do this for me."

  "I want to stay and help you."

  He leaned down and kissed her cheeks. "You already have. Someone had to keep me safe so I could reach this moment. You and Dad did that, and moreover, you loved me too. Fate picked you two out for me. It couldn't have done a better job. Let me do this for you now."

  If he was honest, it was also for him. He couldn't focus on finding Charma if he was protecting them. The best he could do would be to send them as far away from him as possible. His mother got up on her tiptoes and kissed him on his cheek. "We love you."

  "I love you too."

  She turned, and he watched her walk away, hoping it wouldn't be the last time he ever saw her. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it away. He wished he could have seen his father too. There was no time.

  Moving to the closet, he opened it and examined the clothes his parents had brought with them. He pulled out the jeans and t-shirt; aware for the first time that although he knew it wasn't raining he otherwise had no idea of what the current weather conditions were. In his life, he'd never been so ill prepared for anything.

  It wasn't like he even knew where he was going or had a means of transportation to get there. He just knew he had to find Charma, had to explain, and had to make her understand.

  First he had to find out what those shadows were outside and see if he could do anything about them.

  Walking out of the door, two nurses stood up. He raised a hand at their approach. "I'm checking myself out. Work out the details with my father."

  "Dr. Randall…" He couldn't blame the woman for objecting. He should basically be useless with his muscles going through atrophy in the bed like they'd been for the first few minutes when he'd woke up. Instead he was in perfect shape as if he'd never taken a day off from the gym. As if he'd ever gone to the gym to begin with.

  He walked quickly down the hall to the elevators. Pushing the button, he looked down to where his watch should have been but wasn't. Rubbing his wrist as if a phantom watch would appear, he waited for the doors to open.

  A loud ping alerted him that the elevator on the left was ready. He walked inside, nearly running over the man who stood there. Muttering his apologies, he pushed the lobby button and tried to figure out the best way to find Charma. Maybe he'd need to hire a private investigator. Damn. That was going to take too long.

  "She's coming back."

  Jason nearly jumped at the sound of the man's voice. Six foot two inches tall, the dark-haired, dark-eyed man wore a black on black outfit that would put most spies to shame.

  "Well maybe I should say she's on her way back. If she wasn't, I'd be following them and not saving your ass."

  "Excuse me?" Jason wanted to punch the guy in the face, but he seemed to have information so he opted to wait to see what happened first.

  "Charma and Marina are on their way back here with the other Outsider they found."

  "You know about the Outsiders?"

  The man sighed. "Quick run-down. My name is Drew. As far as you go, I don't have a last name. I can't seem to quit following Marina around even though if I were smart, I'd be thousands of miles away from here in Fiji." Jason opened his mouth to speak, but Drew held up his hand. "When this door opens, there will be a man standing in the lobby dressed to the nines. He's a really bad dude. He's the brother of the woman who held you hostage. He's come here to look for you, and unlike his sister who just arrived here on earth; he's been here a long time. If you face him, you will die."

  "How do you know all of this?" Jason's head whirled.

  "Always the doubter. Let's say I have a curse. I just know a lot of shit."

  "So what are we going to do?"

  "We're going to hold down this fort until Marina, Charma, and whoever they found return. Then all of us are going to wait for the rest of the crew to land from Europe. They don't know it yet but their plane is about to be diverted from Portland to Newark. When they get off the plane, Leonardo will just know where they have to be and they'll come. Hopefully we'll all be alive then."

  "I just sent my parents away."

  Drew nodded. "Good." His companion looked up at the ceiling. "Stand against that railing, Dr. Randall. I don't want you to get blasted."

  Jason barely had time to react before the ceiling of the elevator exploded above them.

  "You can climb, right?"

  Jason, openmouthed, nodded.

  "Good, because we have to get to another floor and set ourselves up to buckle down for a few hours. In a matter of moments, this place will be filled with two demons, all of their minions, and every living person here will be a potential enemy."

  Jason put his foot on the railing and hoisted himself up. "Why are you smiling about this?"

  "I love a good fight, and I can't think of a more appropriate place to fight down two psychotic otherworldly demons than a mental health institute, can you?"

  Chapter Nine

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the explosion. What the hell was that? He sniffed the air. Jason Randall, the Outsider with the ability to stop the hearts of would-be attackers, was on the move. How had the man known he needed to run?

  Hissing through his teeth, he turned around to face the ten minions he'd brought with him. If he needed to, he could come up with each of their names, but in these circumstances where there were a large number of them, he was just as happy to think of them as a unit.

  "We'll take the stairs." Without bothering to turn around, Sebastian walked to the doorway marked 'stairwell' and began his ascent. How had Jason made the elevator explode? That shouldn't have been his power, unless it was latent, and even then that would be odd for a body controller to also be able to blow things up. Not that he was an expert on all the petty little powers Outsiders did or did not display.

  He was ending this here whether the Outsiders liked it or not. Using his nose, he chased the pungent smell of humanity that even the Outsiders carried to the eighth floor of the building. He paused and considered his options. What on earth would drive a cardiologist who had just come out of a coma to hide on the floor that contained the cafeteria, the family waiting room, and the offices the administrative staff used?

  Shrugging, he moved forward. It didn't matter. Jason would soon belong to him, and he could force him to give up all the answers he wanted.

  * * * *

  Gabriel nailed the last board onto the outside of the lingerie shop and hummed to himself as if he was per
fectly content. An old woman walking a black and white border collie passed him. He smiled and nodded his head. She held eye contact a moment longer than he liked, and he wondered if she recognized him. Not someone to forget a face, he didn't know her but that didn't mean she wasn't one of the people who'd come to 'meet' Alexa and him when they'd first been adopted by Sebastian's parents.

  It had been a great publicity stunt for his father, taking in the poor, parentless misfits and 'loving' them. The grey-haired, small woman continued walking. Gabriel exhaled. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to be remembered except if Trent heard the conversation then put two and two together connecting Gabriel to Sebastian. That would be unfortunate.

  Stopping midway down the street, the old woman turned around again.

  "How much longer are you going to let this go on?" The woman, her voice shaking, unhooked the leash and Gabriel raised an eyebrow as the dog bounded unrestrained down one of New Orleans' busiest streets. None of the pedestrians seemed to notice as they continued on their way.

  Gabriel's internal paranormal alert system blasted on full. It wasn't that he encountered that much weird stuff that didn't belong to him, Sebastian, or Alexa but he was pleased to see that his sixth sense about it still signaled him.

  Best to pretend he was confused to her meaning and see what happened. "Ma'am? Do you need help with that dog?"

  "That dog, as you called him, has lived three times as long as me. I assure you can handle himself quite nicely. He has probably gone to chase down a stray cat. I don't know. He didn't tell me."

  Gabriel set his hammer into his red toolbox. "I've heard border collies are the smartest breed of dog; however I didn't know they communicated that thoroughly with their owners." He knew he sounded rude but he didn't like this woman—or whatever she was—bothering him on the street about something he obviously wouldn't want most people to know.