“Sorry, Rowan,” Constance added. “We did it after he called the Harper residence. SOP. We didn’t really expect him to call here, but we couldn’t take the chance that he wouldn’t. I was going to tell you, but we got sidetracked.”
“Okay,” I returned. “I guess I shouldn’t be overly surprised by that. So exactly what is your problem, Lieutenant?”
“And I quote,” she said. “‘Then what exactly makes you think that I am going to give a damn about some insignificant woman’s life,’ end quote.”
I stared back at her. “You’re just as bad as Porter when it comes to taking things out of context, aren’t you?”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that sick individual, Gant,” she ordered.
“Listen to me, Lieutenant,” I took on my own hard edge. “When this SOB starts calling you and threatening your life, and more importantly the life of your spouse…” I paused to suck in a breath and try to temper my composure somewhat. “…Eviscerates and kills one of your friends, then kidnaps someone else you know and threatens to do the same to them, THEN you can say whatever you want to him. Until that happens, what you can do is get off my ass.”
“You are pushing it, Mister,” she threatened.
“Lady, the only one pushing it here is you,” I barked. “Now get out.”
Ben cleared his throat in a loud burst and then mumbled, “Calm down, Row.”
Albright raised her voice. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Get out of here before I throw you out.”
Ben cleared his throat again and shot me a warning glance. “Shut. Up. Rowan.” He quietly voiced the instruction in a purposeful cadence, but it was too late. I was already well on my way over the line.
Albright cocked one eyebrow into a shallow arch, and from where I stood it appeared as though a thin smile passed briefly across her lips.
She held her voice even as she spoke. “Did you just threaten me, Mister Gant?”
“Threat, promise, whatever,” I responded. “Take it how ever you want. What I can tell you for a fact is that if you were a man I’d be escorting you out, if you get my meaning.”
Albright reached inside the open front of her trench coat and slipped her hand toward her back. When she withdrew it, there was a bright clink of metal against metal, and a pair of handcuffs rested in her tight grip.
“Lieutenant,” Ben spoke up. “Don’t do this.”
She glanced at him with a look of contempt but didn’t respond to the plea. Instead, she snarled, “Get out of the way, Storm.”
With that, she fixed her stare on me and started across the room. She didn’t have much distance to cover, and before I could blink, she was standing in front of me. In a quick motion, she took hold of my wrist and twisted. A searing lance of pain drove inward through my left shoulder as she wrenched my arm behind my back in a rough motion. I grunted at the discomfort as she continued to lever my forearm up until my wrist rested between my shoulder blades. I quickly turned my head in defense of my nose as she shoved me forward, and my face slammed against the wall.
Felicity had been elbowed out of the way, and my gaze met hers as my head turned. I could see that another bout of fear and anger was welling behind her tired eyes.
My wife quickly darted her head away and yelped, “Ben, do something!”
I could hear my friend behind me trying to soothe her. “Calm down, Felicity. We’re gonna fix this.”
She turned back to me, her eyes wild and then panned her glare on to the lieutenant as she launched into a violent-sounding string of Gaelic. “ Fek tu S aigh! Loscadh is do ort! Damnu ort! Tu tuaireapach! An-duine! Tu striopach! Go n-ithe an cat thu, is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat! Tu fead pog mo thoin saigh! ”
I only picked up a few of the words; considering what I actually did understand, it was for the best that she had chosen Gaelic for the diatribe.
“Felicity! Honey! It will be okay.” I tried to reassure her as she spat the curses. “Call Jackie and tell her…”
Before I could get the instructions for our attorney out of my mouth, Albright barked, “Shut up, Gant!”
Felicity drew closer and launched another expletive-ridden sentence at her, “ An cac capaill, saigh! Go hifreann leat! ”
Thankfully, Ben took hold of my wife’s arm and pulled her away, interposing himself between her Irish temper and the lieutenant before this could escalate to a physical level. I wasn’t so certain that I would trade places with him at the moment.
That was, of course, until the real pain started.
Agony shunted into the center of my brain as my ears began to fill with the sound of rushing blood. My teeth clenched hard, and the horrid metallic tang from earlier in the day returned in force. I bucked against my body’s sudden desire to posture and fall to the floor.
Sharp pain bit into my wrist as Albright slapped the edge of the handcuff against it. I focused on that sensation, using it to divert the inexplicable seizure I felt approaching. The sound of the metal teeth ratcheting grated in my ears as she snapped the circlet shut and continued to tighten the restraint until it pinched my flesh. Still holding me pinned against the wall, she grasped my free arm and yanked it behind my back as well.
Her hand pressed deep into my back, and her touch felt cold. I involuntarily seized on the sensation and immediately felt intense alarm. I gasped a startled breath and closed my eyes.
Distorted, three-dimensional shapes ricocheted through my brain, layering atop one another in jerky, freeze-frame motions. As they joined, I could begin to make out a defined image. In a sudden burst of light, I found myself staring at a contrasty countenance, inverted though it was. Hanging before me in the void was a woman seated upon an ornate throne. A crown rested atop her head, and her vestments were regal, those of royalty. Even though the image is inverted, her dark eyes seem to be looking down upon me imperiously. In her right hand, she is holding forth a shining sword.
I knew immediately that I had seen this image before. It was the face of a tarot card-specifically, the Queen of Swords.
My eyes snapped open and locked on the wall. Still, the afterimage floated in the empty space before me, in crisp focus, as clear as a framed photograph. All sound around me began to echo languidly in my ears as the light in the room flared then dimmed.
“You are under arrest, Mister Gant,” Lieutenant Albright announced. Everything became surreal as I struggled to keep myself in this reality. Voices began to slur, and all sound took on the quality of mud. When she continued, her voice came thick and slow-the words blending into one another as they thudded against my eardrums. “Yooouuu haaaaavvve ttthheee rrriiiigggghhhtttt tttoooo rrrreeemmmaaaiiinnn ssiiilleennntt. Ifff yooouuu gggiiivvvee uuuupp…”
CHAPTER 26:
I wasn’t willing to let this happen again.
Not now. And, definitely not with Albright here.
I sucked a deep breath in through my nose and struggled to ignore the pains that seemed to be checking in from every inch of my body. I held the breath for a few seconds and then began allowing the air to flow out between my lips in a slow stream. Inside my head, I began my bid for control.
My snap decision was to counter whatever was happening to me with the simplest defense I could imagine. Mutely, but with great concentration I began to recite the alphabet, backwards.
I closed my eyes and focused a small part of myself on maintaining a steady cadence with my breathing. In through my nose, out through my mouth, repeat. Z, Y, X, W… In nose, out mouth, repeat… V, U, T, S… Breathe in, breathe out, repeat… R, Q, P, O…
What I was doing was simple. It was textbook, obvious. It was also something that in my off-kilter state, I had been forgetting to do. I was grounding and centering-this was Psychic Self-Defense 101.
The rush in my ears began to fade, and the Doppler distortion of sound accordioned in upon itself, collapsing everyone’s words into tonal reality. For what had to be the first time today, I felt almost relaxed. Pains were still assaulting me from every corner of my being, but they were tangible pains and real aches-discomforts born of the physical realm instead of the ethereal. In a bizarre sense, I welcomed them.