Hear No (Hidden Evil, #1) Page 4

  Kaylee’s own clothing was conservative, as required by the law firm’s dress code. Black suit dress and pumps. Her only flash of color was the fuchsia scarf and her rings, one amethyst one golden topaz and the third aquamarine.

  A form emerged from a side door, a slender young man in a suit.

  “Mr. Harrison.” He flashed a smile at Kaylee then Mike.

  “I’m Kaylee. This is Michael Harrison the Third, one of the firm’s partners,” Kaylee said, aware of her routine duties to announce Mike like he was royalty.

  “Pleasure. I’m Evan,” the assistant said, shaking her hand. “Dr. Rosewood is expecting you, Mr. Harrison.” He shook Mike’s hand then motioned for them to follow.

  Evan led them through a hallway of offices to an elevator. He tried to make small talk with Mike, but it didn’t work. Kaylee stepped in, knowing Mike didn’t rate assistants the time of day.

  A few minutes later, they emerged onto the third floor in an open area lined on one side by a glass wall. A second receptionist sat at a smaller desk. She smiled when they entered.

  Evan led them past her into an open office, where a thin, elderly man in slacks and a sweater sat behind a large desk. He rose but didn’t smile.

  “Dr. Rosewood,” Mike said, thawing at last. “I’m Michael Harrison. I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to see us.”

  “Call me Clint, Michael.” His features naturally grave, Clint Rosewood’s eyes warmed some. “Evan, coffee.”

  “Of course. Kaylee, Mr. Harrison, what can I get you?” Evan asked instantly.

  “Cappuccino,” Mike answered. “Water for Kaylee.”

  Another thing she hated about Mike: he assumed she didn’t like coffee. Or maybe, he thought the help shouldn’t have coffee. She didn’t know.

  She smiled when Evan’s eyes slid to her. There was something about him she liked. He seemed friendly, nice.

  “Spring, filtered or bubbling?” he asked.

  “Filtered,” Mike replied for her.

  “Spring,” she said simultaneously.

  Mike glanced at her in disapproval. Evan slid away, and Mike’s attention shifted to the only person that really mattered to him at that moment.

  “I hope not to take up too much of your time,” Mike said.

  “Please, sit with me.”

  The chairman and head doctor of a private medical empire spanning the DC area motioned to a small conference room table in the corner. He and Mike sat. Kaylee opened Mike’s briefcase and spun it to face him so he could pull out whatever he needed. When he was finished, she closed it and cleared the table, seating herself. She slid Mike’s pen to him.

  “You are an effective team,” Dr. Rosewood commented, the corner of his mouth lifting.

  Kaylee found herself smiling back. Like his son, something about the good doctor made her feel more comfortable than she had at any other routine office visit.

  “We’ve been training her,” Mike replied.

  Like a dog. Kaylee didn’t react when Mike glanced at her, knowing she had to play the cheerful assistant role in public. In private, they argued regularly. Knowing who her father was, even Mike wouldn’t dare fire her, which gave her some leeway in dealing with him.

  Right now, she was considering taking the keys and leaving him. He’d call her dad, who would call and yell at her, but for the time between ditching Mike and dealing with her father, she’d be happy for once. No other junior put up with Mike’s obnoxious, pretentious behavior.

  I really need to take time off.

  The two men began talking. Another thought entered her mind, and she tilted her head, gazing at Mike.

  Maybe stress wasn’t the issue. Maybe working for him was the heaviness she felt around her shoulders. It was back, the Shadowman’s presence. It made the room feel too confined and the sense of being watched returned. The hair at the back of her neck was soon standing at attention. If she looked over her shoulder, she thought she might see it this time.

  The sensations were getting stronger. A glimpse at the shaded window made her think it was night outside. She looked again and saw the trees outside Dr. Rosewood’s office.

  She was starting to doubt her eyes.

  Evan returned, placing a chilled bottle of water before her and cappuccino in front of Mike.

  “Young lady, why don’t you accompany Evan for a tour?” Mr. Rosewood asked. “Michael and I need to talk in private for a few minutes.”

  She glanced at Mike, who nodded. Kaylee rose and went to the door, where Evan awaited her. Uncomfortable at the thought of touring an insane asylum, she nonetheless was eager to get away from Mike. He was driving her crazy after the three hour drive trapped in the car with him.

  The door closed behind Evan. His laid back air helped her relax.

  “I’ll have to admit that I’m not too excited about a tour,” she told him.

  “Few are,” he replied. “It’s not that bad. My father has done a great deal to try to lift the stereotypes surrounding mental health care.”

  “Your father?”

  “Dr. Rosewood. I’m learning the ins and outs of his business,” Evan said and led her down the hall. “Psychiatry isn’t my thing, but administration is. I’m a medical doctor by trade. He’s getting too old to handle both and his first love is helping people.”

  “That’s commendable,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so nice. Your father must care a great deal about his patients.”

  “He does. He follows a more European method of treatment. Addressing the illness holistically – diet, counseling and limited meds – instead of drugging someone up and tossing them in a cell.”

  She listened, glancing around. Evan swiped a badge to lead her into what looked like a dorm area. The wood flooring and modern décor gave the hallway a homey feel. Bedrooms lined the hall and each one was neat, welcoming and warm.

  Definitely not the sterile white walls and cement flooring she expected. A few of the patients were in their rooms while others gathered around in a common area with game tables, a television and an arts and crafts corner.

  “Our Tier One patients stay on this floor. They are here voluntarily. Some for drug and alcohol treatment, some for milder illnesses and others who are trying to deal with complicated life issues,” Evan explained quietly. “We let them keep their own clothing and assign each a room, with or without a roommate, depending on their comfort zone.”

  “This is nicer than my apartment building,” she murmured.

  “Not every floor is. We have some who require special, round the clock attention and a few criminally insane who were deemed appropriate for rehab. But I like to start off the tour stressing that people who suffer from a mental illness are just like everyone else. Environmental factors and lifestyle play a big part in one’s soundness of mind.”

  Maybe I need to check myself in. Kaylee sneaked a peek behind her, expecting to see the Shadowman the way she did in a dream.

  He wasn’t visible, but she felt it there, like a person following too closely behind her. Evan led her to an elevator at the end of the floor and punched a button.

  “You said lifestyle,” she said. “You mean like stress?”

  “Yeah. Stress, divorce, loss of a loved one, foreclosure. Any kind of life trauma.”

  “Stress seems to be the least of those issues,” she said, frowning.

  The elevator dinged, and they stepped into it.

  “Not so. Stress builds up its bad effects over time,” he replied. “It gradually wears you down. Those other events can hit relatively suddenly.”

  The elevator was crowded with her, Evan and the Shadowman. Kaylee began sweating.

  “That makes sense,” she said. “Stress wins by attrition.” Like my father. He wore her down over time and guilted her into going into law.

  Evan chuckled.

  The doors opened, and he stepped into a hallway with hard flooring and tea-colored walls. The doors along this corridor were sealed closed with small windo
ws in them.

  “This is the other end of the spectrum,” Evan said. “What’s important is to remember that these people will one day be on the top floor.”

  “You really think so?” She peered into one window and saw an unconscious patient strapped to a bed.

  “I do. I’ve seen it happen. I’ve seen my father turn someone who was viewed a lost cause into a functioning member of society. Degree, family, library card – everything,” Evan said proudly. “It takes a lot of work and time, but he’s done it.”

  They entered a second common area. The three patients were dressed in uniform white and under the close watch of three orderlies that resembled bouncers. One of the patients was a beautiful girl no older than nineteen while the other two were middle-aged men. The girl sat in a cozy chair, knitting, while the men were watching television.

  As Kaylee stepped into the area, the girl in the corner lazy boy chair looked up. Her eyes were deep blue, a shade that riveted Kaylee’s attention.

  The girl wasn’t looking at her, she realized. She was looking past her.

  Kaylee glanced back.

  “Her name is Amira. She’s deaf and suffers hallucinations,” Evan whispered. “She’s supposed to be in Tier One but refuses to leave this floor. I guess she’s comfortable. We haven’t been able to diagnose her yet, partially because she rarely speaks. Brain MRIs only tell us so much, and she won’t tell us the rest.”

  Shadowman was crowding her. Kaylee shrugged and took a step forward to see if the strange sense eased. It didn’t.

  “Stay right here. I’m going to check in with Father. Sometimes he sends me on tours then realizes he can’t work the cappuccino machine,” Evan said. He moved away, towards a nurse’s desk.

  Kaylee shivered. She didn’t move, afraid of distracting any of the patients.

  Amira was staring in the direction where Kaylee felt the presence.

  She turned around. Nothing out of the ordinary was there. Her eyes lingered on the nearest orderly then on Evan, who leaned over the nurse’s desk in the far corner to reach the phone.

  “You see him.” The voice was awkwardly loud, as if the speaker wasn’t able to gauge the volume at which she spoke.

  Kaylee jerked and faced Amira, who had left the corner and stood a few feet away. She clutched her knitting project, her eyes wide. Her features and height gave her the appearance of a model.

  “I, um …” Kaylee stopped, recalling that the girl couldn’t hear.

  Amira’s gaze dropped to her lips.

  “Can you read lips?” Kaylee asked. Her face grew warm, and she hoped she wasn’t offending the woman.

  Amira nodded.

  “Can you see … him?” Kaylee mouthed the words.

  Another nod. “I hear him. You’re keeping him here.” The loud voice drew the attention of the bouncer and patients.

  Kaylee shifted uncomfortably. She placed a finger to her mouth to shush the girl, not wanting to end up locked in the basement with the rest of the crazies if overheard.

  “What is it?” she mouthed again.

  Amira’s gaze was past her. She followed the movement of something invisible, something Kaylee felt shift from behind her to beside her to in front of her. Shadowman was between them, only Kaylee couldn’t see it.

  “No!” Amira said. She was staring into the space between them, oblivious of Kaylee.

  “No what?” Kaylee asked uneasily.

  The woman tilted her head, as if listening.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

  Kaylee inched back, not understanding what was going on.

  “No!” Amira’s face flushed. She shook her head.

  Shadowman shoved her back a few steps. Amira slapped at him, and Kaylee backpedaled.

  Suddenly, Amira’s gaze sharpened and settled on Kaylee. She gripped her knitting needles.

  From the corner of her eye, Kaylee saw an orderly headed their way.

  “You have to go,” Amira said, a mix of anger and sorrow in her voice. “I’m sorry. It’s the only way.”

  “Evan –” Kaylee started to turn.

  The orderly reached for Amira and suddenly was flying across the room, flung by the invisible Shadowman. He slammed into a wall.

  Kaylee stared, shocked.

  “I’m sorry,” Amira said.

  Kaylee whirled and saw the woman had the knitting needles raised. They plunged downward, and Kaylee stifled a scream. Hot pain tore through her shoulder.

  Stumbling away, Kaylee looked around wildly for somewhere to hide from the needle-wielding maniac. Amira chased after her, needles raised and tears on her face.

  Suddenly, she stopped and spun. Seconds later, she flew upward and smashed into the ceiling.

  Flailing, she stayed there, pinned in place by something invisible.

  Warmth flowed down Kaylee’s arm. She looked from the inhuman sight of Amira stuck to the ceiling to her arm. Her white shirt was soaked.

  Someone tried to kill her. Someone invisible had flung a football player sized man across the room and pinned a deaf girl to the ceiling.

  Kaylee touched the blood, her ears roaring. She was bleeding.

  What the hell just happened? Had she not woken up this morning after all?

  “Place your hand over the wound to stop the blood.”

  Disoriented, she realized someone dressed all in black stood before her. He was tall and wide with a voice that didn’t sound quite right. She looked up.

  Shadowman had no face.

  She slid into a faint.

  Chapter Six

  Shocked when Shadowman dropped her instead of killing her, Amira sprinted back to her room. Her heart was racing, the only sound after the chaos in the common area. She slammed her door closed and grabbed a handful of moonstones. She sank against the door, waiting for the Shadowman to come for her.

  With tears on her face, she huddled in the corner of her room.

  What horrified her more? That Shadowman had found her, or that she’d done the unthinkable and possibly killed someone? She now understood the duality of his stone. He was a fallen guardian, not just a fallen angel. It meant his life was connected to that of the human to which he was assigned, hence the two energies possessed by the stone.

  His human was innocent, adorable even, with ears that stuck out from silky blond hair, delicate facial features and large, wise blue eyes.

  And Amira had tried to take her life.

  She sobbed into her hands. Human life was the most sacred of the sacred for an angel. As a first gen, she wasn’t far removed from the Other Side. She stood in awe of the humans in general, more so knowing how much adversity they faced. She was facing her own, and there were times when she didn’t think she was going to survive.

  After a few minutes, she realized Shadowman wasn’t coming. Had she succeeded in murdering his host?

  What did that mean for her own soul? Killing was forbidden.

  She pulled out the two-toned stone from her velvet pouch and held it. Her heart prayed the girl she hurt was okay, while logically, she knew that Shadowman’s host was going to have to die in order to banish him to Hell, where he couldn’t hurt anyone and most importantly, couldn’t start the chain of events that would unleash the Apocalypse on the planet.

  Was destroying one life worth saving so many others?

  She squeezed the stone.

  Both were alive – Shadowman and the woman. The woman was unconscious, while Shadowman hovered over her. Amira sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued about the link between the two. She knew if the host died, Shadowman went to Hell.

  It wasn’t possible for a demon to be concerned for a human, but where demons operated much like angels – out of instinct - Shadowman was cognizant of how his existence was dependent on the woman’s.

  As she watched, she calmed, seeing something else.

  Angels only saw good. Demons only saw evil. Humans were blessed with the ability to see both and the free will to choose between them.

 
Shadowman saw both. He stepped away from the woman when Evan reappeared, knowing the fifth gen meant to help. He was sentient, which meant he understood his life depended on that of his host. He took a form when necessary and understood who posed a threat to his anchor and who could help. How far would he go to protect his host?

  The two-toned stone was one of balance. It was half his, half the woman’s.

  She sensed the vibrations of footsteps then the sensation of someone inserting a key into the lock above her head.

  Amira’s eyes snapped open, and the thought fled.

  She shoved the stones into the velvet pouch and tossed it under the bed then rose and waited.

  The orderly that entered appeared stressed and held a syringe. He pointed to his mouth.

  “This will calm you down,” he mouthed.

  Amira nodded and swallowed hard. She understood that actions had consequences and right now, they thought she really was crazy after stabbing someone. While scared, she’d never in her life hurt or tried to hurt anyone.

  She held out her arm, trembling. The orderly was kind and quick. He was her favorite of them all, the one who helped her set out her moonstones originally and who checked up on her once a day.

  “Thank you,” she said the words.

  At his nod, she knew he understood. He took her arm and led her to the bed.

  Already, the drugs were taking hold. Amira sank onto the bed and soon, darkness floated across her mind. Her last thought was of Shadowman’s host again.

  What if the stone led me to her for a reason?

  Chapter Seven

  Kaylee awoke with a jolt, grateful it was another nightmare.

  Except that she didn’t have fluorescent lighting or tan walls at her apartment. She twisted her head to see a small tray of medical items on a low counter nearby. She sat and groaned, pain radiating down her arm.

  Her left arm was in a sling.

  “You okay?” Evan asked, poking his head in at the sound of her pain.

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “My head feels … heavy and my arm hurts.”

  “No surprise there.” He slid on gloves and crossed to her. His expert gaze took in the bandage around her shoulder before he peered into her eyes. “We gave you a shot of painkillers and antibiotics. You’ll be groggy for a day or two. The good news is that she missed anything important.”