M Sellars - Miranda

“Amazing…” I almost whispered as I stared off. Something still wasn’t registering for me, but I couldn’t yet put my finger on it.

Constance nodded. “You aren’t the first person to use that word.”

“I’ve had some pretty crazy nightmares lately,” I said. “You aren’t about to morph into a giant rabbit and tell me that’s what this is, are you?”

“Your nightmares have been about giant rabbits?”

I gave my head a small shake. “No. Just making up an example.”

“Well, you aren’t dreaming this time,” she assured me. “I can pinch you if you’d like.”

“Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Good call. I pinch pretty hard.”

I rolled my head back up and slowly shook some more of the chipped ice into my mouth. I chewed it and once again allowed the melt to run down my throat.

The mind fog was lifting even more, but at the same time, I was already feeling twinges of pain in my gut-the trade off for clarity I suppose. Fortunately though, they were still dull and remote. With luck I’d have plenty of time before they became unbearable enough for me to be willing to endure the nightmare for the umpteenth time.

I started to lift the cup to my lips again but stopped and held it hanging in mid-air as my opiate intoxicated synapses continued to sober up. A series of misfires between neurons finally captured and then generated a shaky connection. As it continued to flicker and arc, a question floated through my brain. Rolling my head to the side once again, I lent a voice to the query.

“So, Constance…”

“Yes?”

“If they just now started the interview, how did they know earlier that he was a victim of the same killer?” I asked.

She frowned and shook her head. “It’s not that important, Rowan. Just trust me. There was some very compelling evidence.”

“Go ahead and pinch me,” I said.

“What?”

“Go ahead and tell me what you’re hiding,” I replied. “That should be as good as any pinch.”

“I can if you really want to know,” she said. “But I don’t see how it will help, and you aren’t going to wake up from this. It’s not that kind of nightmare.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that already,” I told her. “How’d they know, Constance?”

She sighed and shook her head again. “They knew because your name had been carved into his chest…and his back, and his arms, and even his forehead… Honestly, from what I understand, it’s just about anywhere on his body there’s room enough for it to fit.”

“Oh,” I replied.

The word was patently anticlimactic in and of itself, but there really wasn’t much one could say in response to an explanation such as Constance had just given-especially in this line of work and having seen some of the horrors I had witnessed over the years. Once upon a time, such a revelation would have been shocking to me. Absolutely horrifying on levels I couldn’t even imagine, in fact. But, that was then. Now, such a violent reaction was a part of my distant past, and atrocities like these were just a matter of course in my painful world.

However, this isn’t to say I was completely cold-blooded.

I was beyond disgusted by the news-that much was absolutely certain. It made me sick just to think about it. Still, surprise just didn’t fit into the equation at all.

The simple fact of the matter was that carving my name into a victim was exactly the sort of thing Miranda would do, especially if she was working some type of hoodoo against me. She’d gone that route several times before, so there was no reason to believe she wouldn’t do so again. The only question in my mind was exactly what kind of magick it was?

If I had to guess, I would say she was probably trying to kill me. On the surface, that’s definitely how it looked. And, after all, we knew for certain that particular errand was at the top of her agenda, so it made perfect sense. Basic sympathetic magick-name the victim for me and then kill him as me. It was almost as simplistic as my use of salt to ward against her. In fact, it made me wonder if I had revealed too much during that meeting in Texas. Maybe she was taking a page from my own playbook and using my belief in the KISS principle against me. Given my currently weakened state, who knows, it might even have worked.

If those were in fact the circumstances, I guess it was a good thing for both of us that the victim had escaped when he did. I silently admonished myself for having such a self-serving thought, but pretty or not, it was the truth.

I rolled my head up and stared at the ceiling for a minute or two. I didn’t find any comfort there, not that I was really expecting to.

As if the twinges in my gut weren’t enough to deal with, my neck was now starting to ache and the pain was threatening to advance into my skull. As a countermeasure, I slowly worked my shoulders up and down then tried to move myself into a more comfortable position. I’d only been in this bed for a little over a day now, but it was already taking its own toll on my body. Unfortunately, I had a vague recollection of a doctor telling me that I wasn’t likely to be leaving here for several more days yet.

I let out a groan as I settled back against my pillow. Unfortunately, my new physical arrangement didn’t seem to be any better than its predecessor.

“Are you okay?” Constance asked.

“Yeah,” I grumbled. “My neck is bothering me a bit. I guess I’m not used to laying around like this.”

“Do you need another pillow or something like that?”

“Nahh…I don’t think so. But thanks anyway.”

“No problem.”

I waited for a moment then added, “And I mean thanks for everything, Constance. You’re a hell of a friend, and I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done. I know you’ve put up with a lot these past few days.”

“That’s what friends do,” she replied.

“I know, but I just wanted to say it. Ya’know what I mean?”

She chuckled. “Don’t get maudlin on me, Rowan. I’m not sure I’d know what to do.”

I allowed myself a grin. “So I guess this wouldn’t be the time to tell you that you’re like family to Felicity and me and that we put you in our wills?”

“I’d say most definitely not. Unless there’s a huge amount of money involved.”

I snorted. “Don’t worry. I think it’s just the drugs talking anyway.”

“Probably,” she agreed. The melody of another chuckle fell in behind the comment before she added, “But seriously, thanks. And just so you know, the feeling is mutual.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “And thanks.”

Quiet flowed into the room once again, so I tilted my head forward to watch the activity on the other side of the window wall. As expected, it was much the same as earlier, but at least it was something to look at.

The small amount of ice that remained in my cup had melted for the most part, so I took a sip then gave the Styrofoam vessel a tilt and completely drained it. After swallowing I let out a thin sigh and continued to stare through the glass.

“Do you want some more?” Constance asked.

I looked over at her. “Don’t worry about it… You just sat down.”

She pulled herself up from the seat and then shrugged. “Now I just stood up. Would you like some more?”

“I guess since you put it that way, yeah,” I said. “Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem, Rowan.”

She stepped over and took the cup from me then set about refilling it from the container on the tray at the end of the bed. I started working my shoulders in small circles as best I could in an attempt to loosen some of the kinks in my neck. The ache seemed to have blossomed now and was creeping upward into the base of my skull. As I slowly twisted my head side to side, I felt a tingle working its way up my spine. In that same moment, I noticed a mild burning sensation on my arms. I tilted my head forward as I raised the appendages and immediately saw small patches of gooseflesh erupting here and there across my skin. The tingle along my spine settled into my neck, and I felt myself shiver involuntarily.