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disembodied voice of the other
officer audibly sighed before continuing. “Shelton, here’s a direct
quote, ‘tell Storm to leave his devil worshipper downstairs where
he belongs.’”
    Ben’s own words came in a slow drone directly
behind the echo of the radio. “Fuuuuck me. Just fuuuuck me.”
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 3:
     
     
    I protested, but it didn’t do any good. This
time it was out of Ben’s control, and no amount of complaining from
me was going to accomplish anything positive. Besides, he was on my
side, or at least that is what I thought. In the end, he continued
up the stairs, and we were escorted back out onto the street.
    The wind had picked up as a storm front
rolled in, so we were waiting in my friend’s van with the engine
running and the heater on. He had been somewhat reluctant to
relinquish the keys, and I guess I could understand why, since he
had just gotten it back from the shop a week ago. I’m sure the fact
that I was the one responsible for putting it in there to begin
with was a big stumbling block for him as well—but that was another
story.
    I suppose that is probably why when he
finally gave up the keys it was to Felicity instead of me, which
also was why she was sitting in the driver’s seat.
    “You’ve been pretty quiet.” I leaned back in
the passenger seat and let my head roll to face her as I spoke. The
vehicle’s heater had not yet defeated the chill, and my words
vented outward on an opaque cloud of frost. “Are you doing all
right?”
    Felicity looked back at me with a flat
expression. It was apparent that she was tired, but more than that,
it was plain to see that she was overwhelmed. “Aye, that would
depend on your definition of all right, wouldn’t it, then?”
    “Pick one,” I offered.
    She took a deep breath and exhaled heavily,
then reached to the dash and clicked the controls to dual-duty—vent
and defrost. The warm air slowly started clearing the fog that had
formed on the inside of the windshield. “I’m not going to throw up
if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “That’s a start.”
    “What about you?” she asked.
    “I’m fine.” I shrugged, rolling my head back
to face out the window. I watched as the arc of clarity inched its
way up the glass from the bottom. “Still have the headache, but I
expect that will be with me for a while.”
    “Any worse yet?”
    “Yeah. Still tolerable, but it’s ramping
up.”
    She reached out and laid the palm of her hand
across the back of mine. After a moment she spoke, “Aye, you’re
well-grounded for a change. And without my help.”
    My ability, or lack thereof I should say, to
center my energies and maintain a solid connection with the Earth
had been a concern as of late. In the psychic realm, grounding was
your first line of defense and one of the most basic of all
abilities. During the past year, Eldon Porter’s attempt on my life
had taken its toll, leaving me just about as grounded as a runaway
helium balloon. It was only recently that I had recaptured the
simple ability.
    “Can’t stay dependent on you forever, can I?”
I shot her a tired grin.
    Our impending moment was interrupted by a
sharp rap on the passenger-side window. I turned to see my friend’s
face staring back at me. Even though the frost had all but
completely cleared from the windshield, I hadn’t noticed his
approach. His brow was entrenched in a deep furrow and his jaw
clenched so tight it made my headache worse just to look at
him.
    I quickly rolled down the window. “What’s the
story?”
    “Don’t ask,” he returned with a curt shake of
his head. “You don’t wanna know. So, listen, you think you can come
up with somethin’ off this scene?”
    “That’s why I’m here,” I replied, somewhat
puzzled by the question.
    “You’re sure?”
    I shook my head and stammered for a second,
searching for the words to form an answer. “Well… Ben… You know I
can’t say that. You know as well as I do, that’s not how