Beeping. The slow, steady rhythm of machines called to Alexandria, but coming to the world where they existed seemed so very hard. She was sure that she could make out her parents talking in hushed tones to other unfamiliar voices, maybe a doctor or a nurse, she just could not be sure. Then, Alex knew she heard Wallace arguing with someone that they were not doing enough to bring her around, while Conner tried to calm him down. How badly she wanted to reach out and tell him she was there and that Ganymede had already healed the worst of her injuries.

  Ganymede. Even in that strange, disconnected state, she could see his face. It was the one image that rang strong and true. Those clear blue eyes, so perfect and so kind. What was happening? Ganymede had called the man Bertrand, but was he a man? There was something unnatural about the way he had lifted them both into a standing position, while still gripping her neck. His movements had been fluid and fast, but not quite right. Oh, she could not hold on to the thought. And Ganymede. How could she explain to her parents, to her brothers, to investigators? Surface, she willed herself. Surface and find the answers! But her mind met her with blackness again.

  The beeping was finally becoming loud enough that she could hang onto it and not lose it. The fog that had kept her unconscious was receding, and Alex slowly lifted her eyelids. They felt heavy and tried to close on her several times before she could make them stay open. The room she found herself in was a little out of focus, so Alex squinted and continued opening and closing her eyes until she could really see her surroundings. She was most definitely in a hospital room, all sterile and white, she told herself.

  A tower containing a monitor stood to the left side of her bed, and another held a bag of liquid, its tubes snaking down into the back side of her left hand. Alex moved her head slowly, looking around, and beheld her parents. They were both asleep and leaning into one another on a couch in the corner of the room by a large window. Soft light filtered in, giving her no indication of what time it might be.

  Gingerly, Alex lifted her right hand to push her hair out of her eyes and was surprised that such a slight motion could make her feel dizzy and winded. She pushed herself up just a little more on the bed, but that movement woke her parents. They were both on their feet then, and her mother was the first to reach her side.

  “Oh sweetheart,” Lady Juliana breathed. “Thank the good Lord!” Tears welled in her eyes as she settled herself beside her daughter.

  “No, Mother, don’t cry. I’m okay. How long have I been asleep?” asked Alexandria, hoping her question would distract her mother from her sadness.

  Her father reached forward and brushed her hair off of her forehead, while her mother placed Alex’s right hand between her two palms and began to stroke her daughter. Alexandria knew that her mother and father needed to touch her to make sure she was still there with them. And the gentle gestures reassured her as well. It was her father who spoke and answered her question.

  “You’ve been asleep since last night. It’s almost four in the afternoon, so not quite twenty-four hours. Alexandria, we want to know what happened, but only when you’re ready to tell us. We want you to know that we’ll not rush you, darling.” The anguish in his voice was her undoing, and tears began to run unchecked down Alex’s cheeks. Her parents cocooned her while she quietly let her grief run its course.

  Alexandria knew that whatever had been within her and a part of her childhood – the strange occurrences, the differences that no one could account for – had finally caught up with her. She had been running away for so long, almost in a desperate flight to ‘be normal,’ but she had always known that eventually, she could not run anymore. And her time had most assuredly run out the previous night, Alex told herself.

  “Shhh, baby,” crooned her mother. “It’s alright. Everything’s going to be alright.” They stayed like that for a long while, the three of them just soaking up the comfort and love that was freely offered and so easily received.

  Finally, her father broke through the quiet, saying, “I suppose I should let the doctors know that you’re awake, Alex. I’ll be right back.” Lord Errol walked slowly from the room, as if reluctant to let the two of them out of his sight.

  As he left, Alex squeezed her mother’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I’ve no idea why this happened, but I’m just so sorry.”

  “No, you will not place the blame for this on yourself. I forbid it,” Lady Juliana said with steel in her voice. “Whoever did this to you is solely responsible, Alex, and no one else. And we’ll make sure the filth is caught and dealt with.”

  Alexandria had not seen Bertrand’s demise, but from the fury in Ganymede’s eyes and the sounds she heard in Lord Lenley’s office, she was sure he had not only been killed but wiped from existence. Alex doubted that anyone would ever see any piece of him again. But that was not something she ever intended to share with her mother. No matter how strong and supportive her parents were, Alex just did not know how to tell them about Ganymede. She really did not understand it all herself.

  “Where are Wallace and Conner?” asked Alex, realizing that neither was present.

  “Oh, we sent them home a few hours ago to rest. Wallace was constantly creating a commotion with the doctors here, so we thought it best to make them leave for a bit. Hopefully, we’ll be heading home soon, and you’ll see them there,” her mother answered, still gently stroking Alex’s hand between hers.

  The door to Alex’s room opened and her father re-entered followed by two doctors, one much older than the second. Alex drew in a deep breath. She knew the older doctor’s face. She could not place where or when she had met him, but she knew him. Her mother mistook the breath for pain and worryingly looked at Alex.

  “Well, well, she is indeed awake,” said the senior doctor, looking intently at Alexandria.

  Alex wondered if he was searching for any sign of recognition.

  “Alexandria, I am Dr. Holbrook, and this is Dr. McLaren. We are in charge of your care while you’re here. Your parents have been quite anxious for you to wake. Let’s take a look, shall we?” he said in a friendly enough tone, but one that reeked of authority and brokered no argument.

  Alexandria’s parents moved back to make way for the two doctors. Dr. Holbrook led the examination, which was brief but thorough. He asked her to touch her fingers to her nose and follow his finger back and forth. He asked questions that showed Alex could recall long-term information. He then reached forward and felt along the back of her skull and pressed on her ribs gently.

  Alexandria’s eyes never left him, and once Dr. Holbrook was finished, he looked directly into her eyes. Why could she not remember how she knew this man, she asked herself. He smiled and stepped back to allow Dr. McLaren access to her leg, the one which Ganymede had set back in the office. Dr. Holbrook turned and began talking with her parents. He told them that if she continued to improve throughout the night, he would release her in the morning, but he wanted Alexandria to rest one more evening under their observation.

  “A sound knock on the head is nothing to play with. Lord Errol and Lady Juliana, would you please follow Dr. McLaren to his office? I would like for him to go over some possible complications of a head injury, which we would like you to help us watch for once she’s released into your care. I don’t foresee any problems, but I want to be prepared,” Dr. Holbrook advised them.

  He looked over the rim of his glasses at her parents when he said this, and they reluctantly agreed to leave her. “Don’t worry, I’ll wait here with Alexandria until you return. She won’t be alone.” This final reassurance settled the matter.

  “We’ll be right back, dear,” said her mother, and they followed the young doctor out of the room.

  Dr. Holbrook turned his eyes towards Alex and smiled again. He walked back over and sat down on the side of her bed, sighing.

  “Well, well, Alex. What a pickle we’re in now, huh, sweetie?”
he chuckled.

  Alexandria’s mouth dropped open and then she snapped it closed, unsure what response to give. Was he talking about the obvious, or did he know what really happened in that room, she wondered to herself. How could he, she asked?

  As if in answer to her silent question, he patted her leg. “It’s alright, dear. I know all about it,” he sighed again and shook his head. “I know about Ganymede, and I know about Bertrand. This was never supposed to happen, but now that it has, I think it’s safe to say we have a lot to discuss.” He angled his head at her silence and waited for her to say something to him.

  “Who are you? You’re not really a doctor are you?” Alexandria grabbed the bed’s control and used it to move into a sitting position. She did not know if she would need to be ready to make a run for it, but lying down did not seem like the best way to protect herself.

  “Stop for just a moment, Alexandria, and feel. You know what I’m talking about. You can sense who is a friend and who is a foe. I mean you no harm.” He now looked at her over the rim of his glasses, his bushy gray hair falling forward as he tilted his head towards her.

  She breathed in slowly, staring directly into his eyes. Alex allowed the long hidden ribbon to slowly unfurl from her mind, and she felt it inching towards the doctor who was sitting still and patiently waiting for her. He seemed to anticipate what was coming and he exhaled just as her mind connected with his.

  Alex saw scenes from his past, before his hair turned gray, laughing and running with another young man, as if in a race. She saw him tending to wounded soldiers on a battlefield that looked like World War I trenches, and then her vision skipped to him helping emaciated Jews leave a concentration camp. “Thank you, John,” the man wheezed out between labored breaths. This man was good to his core. She had nothing to fear, and Alex withdrew her connection to him and once again looked up into his eyes.

  She raised a shaky hand to her forehead and noticed that it was damp with sweat. “Good Lord, what is happening? I want answers, and I want them now. You will start talking, and you will explain why I almost died last night!” Alex realized she had all but roared her last words as a command. “Please,” she added a bit less loudly, deciding that being rude to the one person before her with answers probably was not the best approach to take.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he laughed as his eyebrows darted up. “First, I want you to know that I have nothing to hide from you, and I will make sure that you get all of the answers you are looking for, whether you know the questions to ask right now or not. In time, you will have all the information you seek. I’m not going anywhere, and I have every intention of making sure you are safe. In fact, your safety is our primary objective now.”

  Alexandria held up her hand. “Wait. You said, ‘our’ not ‘my.’ Who else is with you?”

  “Oh, there are many who have a vested interest in your safety. Not one of them expected Bertrand to find you and come after you the way he did, but we cannot change what has happened,” he said heavily.

  “And now, whether for better or worse, you are on the edge of a great precipice, Alexandria. You say you want answers, and answers you shall have. But understand that by calling Ganymede and asking for these answers, you cannot go back to ignorant bliss.”

  “You will know who and what you are, but knowledge comes at a price. Not a price you cannot pay, but a price that may make demands on you. You may have to rise to the challenge of those demands. I cannot ask you if you are prepared for what lies ahead, because you have no frame of reference right now, but are you willing to concede that this knowledge may change the course your life has been on up until now?” he asked her gently.

  Alexandria drew in a long, deep breath. All of her past questions, feelings of insecurity and bewilderment, and the sheer terror she felt at Bertrand’s hands culminated in one clear thought – the only decision she thought she could make at the crossroads where she now stood.

  “I understand things are about to change, John, but I don’t think I can live like this anymore. I want to know who I am and what is happening.” Alexandria was proud that her voice did not betray the fear that she really felt deep down inside. Yes, she admitted to herself, she was out of time and out of options. If information could help her protect herself and those she loved in the future, then it was answers she wanted.

  “My brave, sweet girl,” John praised. “I am so proud of you. I know that you’re scared to death, but bravery in the face of insurmountable odds is the mark of a truly courageous soul. And you will find that deep within you beats a heart that’s true and gallant. All those faced with such choices as yours either decide to run and cower, or face it head on; and face it we shall together. You’ll not be in this alone, Alexandria, that I swear to you,” he promised, and Alexandria gave herself over to the trust that he was extending to her. Holding on to it as if it were her new lifeline.

  “What can you tell me right now? I have a feeling there is more for you to share than what one conversation can hold.”

  “Indeed, Alexandria. I can share some bits of information with you now, and the rest will come as you indicate you’re ready to hear more,” he said.

  Alex began to shake her head. “No, don’t patronize me, please. I don’t want to be spoon-fed information; I want to understand, and I want to know everything. Don’t treat me like I’m a child who cannot handle what you have to tell me. If I could live through last night and all that happened to me when I was a child, then I can hear the truth now. I’m twenty-one years old; I am an adult.” The last thing Alex wanted now was to be patted on the head as though she were five.

  Dr. Holbrook chuckled. “No, I don’t suppose you want to be treated like a child. I’m not denying you what you need, Alexandria. But trust me, too much information will overwhelm you, possibly even frighten you, and that is what we don’t want to do.” He looked out of the window for a long moment, then turned back to her and gave Alex a quick nod as if he had just made a decision about something.

  “Now, what I can tell you is this: Ganymede is indeed real. He has been by your side from the day you were born, and he will be with you until your last day on this earth. He loves you and has only your best interests at heart. He will come to your aid whenever you call for him, but our goal is to get you to a point where you can take care of yourself, defend yourself and protect those you love so that you won’t have to rely on Ganymede to do that for you.” John was looking at her face closely as if gauging her reaction to what he was saying thus far.

  “Is Ganymede an angel?” Alex asked. She was pretty sure she had worked that much out. Unless, of course, he was some sort of alien. If that were true, Alex decided she might not want to know any more after all.

  “Yes,” John smiled warmly, “and he is a very powerful angel at that. Ganymede was one of the first, and he has been our Lord’s companion and emissary for longer than either of us can imagine.”

  “Go on, please,” encouraged Alex.

  John cleared his throat for a moment before he spoke again. “Bertrand is, or shall I say, was, the antithesis of Ganymede. He and his kind abhor all that is good about this world and the next. They do not want to see any of us dedicated to the side of right succeed in the work that we do. They’re a constant hindrance and a constant danger,” he said, his lips twisting sourly. “That’s why we have to make sure you are prepared for his kind.”

  “Why single me out? What makes me different enough that they would even be aware of me?” asked Alex. This was what she had wanted to know for so long – why was she different than everyone else she knew.

  “Yes, that gets to the heart of things, doesn’t it? And that, my dear, is an answer that I hesitate to give you today,” he said, holding up his hands to stop Alex as she was already opening her mouth to interrupt him.

  “You are different, Alexandria, more so than you can even imagine. You are a
very unique young lady, even in our world. I want you to know that I am not trying to hedge your question, but that is the one question I cannot, or rather, should not answer, as it is not my story to tell, but yours and Ganymede’s. He should be the one to explain.”

  “So I should summon him again, is that the way of it?” Alex knew she sounded exasperated, but honestly her nerves were stretched to the breaking point, and once she had made the decision to know the truth, by goodness, she wanted all of it and quickly. Enough with the constant skirting of the truth.

  “No, Alexandria, you should not call on Ganymede right now because your parents and someone called Jameason are on their way back to us. There is an investigator coming in about thirty minutes to question you and, unfortunately, your parents have also employed security who will be arriving shortly, and we’ll have to deal with that.”

  “How do you know all of this? Are you sensing it somehow?” asked Alexandria, astounded that he had rattled off such a detailed list of who was coming and when.

  “No, dear.” John laughed. “I have been in and out of this room since last night, and I have overheard your parents’ plans. I also happen to know how long it takes to walk to Dr. McLaren’s office from your room and I think that they should be returning shortly. So as I said, more information is coming, but first, we need to get you out of here and deal with the investigator’s questions which may be a little tricky to get around.”

  Alexandria looked over at the window for just a moment. “Okay, Ganymede, I know you can hear me,” she thought. “I’ll wait a little longer because I don’t think my parents can handle this right now, but please stay with me and promise me I’ll understand soon.”

  She looked back over at Dr. Holbrook. “I’m not angry with you. I just want to know,” she sighed. “So how then do we talk to an investigator? I don’t think you want me telling him an angel came in and saved me from an attacker with supernatural powers, do you?”

  “Alexandria,” John admonished. “This is nothing to joke about. Indeed, you will omit any reference to Ganymede or Bertrand. You will tell them that you received word that you had a call, entered Lord Lenley’s office and heard an assailant lock you in. You fought, but his face was masked and you never actually saw him. Tell them that he called you Rebecca, and when he heard your brothers approaching, he threw you down onto the table and broke through the office’s window so he could escape.”

  As John was giving her an acceptable accounting for the assault, Alexandria saw the attack flash before her eyes and she closed them tightly, hoping it would help her block out the graphic images. She could see Bertrand’s face inching closer to hers as he whispered menacingly, “We don’t have to go anywhere just yet, we could have a bit of fun.”

  “Alexandria, look at me,” implored John. “You are safe now. I know these images are going to resurface for a while, but no one else is going to lay a finger on you. We have many in place now protecting you and your family. Try to concentrate on that feeling of safety, and perhaps it will help just a bit.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, nodding her head slowly to reassure him that she would try. At that last comment, the door to her room opened, and Jameason walked in carrying a small, soft cooler. He smiled warmly at his young charge and came over to the side of her bed.

  “Well, what’s all this?” asked Dr. Holbrook, gesturing to the bag.

  “Good evening, doctor,” replied Jameason crisply. “This is a bit of soup and fresh baked bread for Alexandria. Would that be an acceptable dinner?”

  Always proper, mused Alex. She smiled up at Jameason. Lord, how she loved this man, she thought to herself. He was like a grandparent to her, and she was so happy to see him, safe and dapper.

  “Oh, I would think soup would be just fine.” John stood and looked down at Alex, back in charge of the room. “Start with the broth, and if that stays down, you can try a bit of the bread, alright? I’ll be back in a few hours to check on you for the night, Alexandria.” He smiled at them both and then took his leave.

  Jameason began setting the small hospital table for her dinner, and when he was finished, he helped Alex sit up a little more and placed a napkin in her lap. She ate while he distracted her with small talk about Dudley and the preparations for New Years’ Day. About halfway through the meal her parents joined them, and they all avoided the elephant in the room so Alexandria could enjoy the food.

  After dinner, just as Dr. Holbrook had predicted, two investigators came to ask Alexandria for her account of the previous night’s attack. Harris Wilborough and Nigel Hughes, both of MI-5, had been called upon to handle the investigation in hopes that their expertise and discretion would help to solve the case quickly and quietly. Alex’s family had already worked with a few close and powerful friends to make sure nothing about the story made it to the papers or the Internet.

  Her parents and Jameason remained in the room during the interview, and Alex hated that they had to hear a description of someone hurting her, but she repeated the story that John had asked her to tell. It was really the only one she could tell. She focused on a small spot on the bed’s blanket and told the story to that spot so that she would not have to see the pain in their eyes. When the two men were finished recording her statement, they asked Alex several questions, and she could easily tell they were trying to verify her story and look for holes. She held fast to her version and did not waver.

  “Well, I can tell you that his prints are known to us,” Agent Wilborough told her parents. “He has quite an extensive file with Interpol and our agency, as well. We can’t give you false hope that he’s still in the area. This one’s quite good at slipping away quickly, but we hope that knowing he’s looking for a Rebecca in this area, who most likely matches your daughter’s description, will help us catch him when he resurfaces.”

  “If you will agree, we would like to place agents with you here and at your home until he’s apprehended,” asked Agent Hughes. “Knowing his history for violence, we want to make sure that he doesn’t come back to finish what he started, even though your daughter didn’t see his face.”

  Alex thought that this was probably something they would normally just do, but out of deference to her parents, they were asking for permission. She silently prayed they would refuse. She did not know how she would meet with John and the others he spoke of if she were being watched.

  “No, thank you, gentlemen,” her father said, shaking his head. “We’ve already employed security both at our home and here. If you like, you can come by the Manor to make sure they’re properly set up, but I have hired a top firm’s best men, and I think we’ll be well protected. What I would like, however, are frequent updates.”

  Alexandria could tell the two agents were not happy with her father’s decision, but they agreed to stay in contact with him. They also pushed to come to the Manor that same night to inspect the net which the security detail had established for the family.

  Her father agreed, and as they took their leave, Agent Wilborough paused in the doorway of the room and told Alex how sorry they were that she had met up with her assailant. He vowed they would do everything in their power to find him. Alexandria thanked him, but also silently thanked Ganymede for obliterating such a venomous creature. He would never hurt anyone else again, and that was the only thought that allowed her to get some sleep that night.

  Chapter 6