“TELL ME ABOUT the voices, Aden.”
“I don’t hear voices anymore, Dr. Hennessy.”
“You’re lying to me, Aden, and I don’t like liars. Tell me. About the. Voices.”
“I don’t hear voices anymore, Dr. Hennessy.”
The same conversation had been replaying between them for over an hour. Aden was tired and fighting sleep, lying in the doctor’s plush recliner, the lights dimmed, and peering up at a plain white ceiling. His lids were heavy, keeping them open a difficult chore. Didn’t help that soft music played in the background. Dr. Hennessy sat behind him, papers rattling every so often, but even that had a lulling effect.
Bor-ing, Caleb said with a yawn.
Lame, Julian agreed.
Remain on guard, please, Elijah said, but even he sounded fatigued. I don’t trust this man.
I’m always on guard, Caleb retorted.
This time, Julian yawned. You’re a liar, and Dr. Hen is pushy. Not a good combo.
Aden agreed.
“—and as you know, I’ve read reports from your other doctors.”
Great. He’d lost track of the conversation. “So?”
“So, when you were younger, you told several of them that these voices are souls and those souls possess special powers.”
“I lied.” No way would he trust Dr. Hennessy with the truth. That would only score him more medication, more sessions like this one. “No one has special powers.”
“So you admit there are souls, then? They just don’t have any otherworldly abilities?”
He ground his teeth. “No. I didn’t say that.”
“Are you telling me that one of the souls can no longer time-travel?”
Aden stiffened. Eve had been the time-traveler, sometimes sending him back into younger versions of himself. One wrong word, and he would change the future, sometimes returning to a different reality than he’d left.
He didn’t think he could time-travel now that Eve had passed on, and anyway, he was too afraid to try. The consequences were too vast, and he was too happy with his life. Well, most of it.
“Aden,” the doctor prompted.
“Time-travel is a myth,” was all he said.
“As mythical as predicting when other people are going to die?”
“Yes,” he croaked. “Where are you going with this, Dr. Hennessy?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must have given you the impression that it’s all right to question me. It’s not. I ask. You answer.”
Aden’s hands fisted. He’d had a lot of doctors over the years, but this one was by far the worst. As condescending as he was, Aden had to wonder if the man even had a degree. “Better yet, how about if I just don’t talk at all?”
“That’s all right, too,” Dr. Hennessy replied easily, as if that’s what he’d wanted all along, surprising the hell out of Aden. “Silence is better than lies.”
They would see about that.
One minute ticked by after another, not a word spoken. Soon Aden’s eyelids grew even heavier. The ceiling began to blur, becoming one giant white blob. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay alert, but on and on the soft music played in the background. He thought he recognized the melody. “Hush Little Baby.” What an odd song to pick for grown patients. But even the voices quieted, listening, falling…
“You’re exhausted, Aden.”
“Yes,” he found himself replying from a sea of black. Black? Yes, he thought. He was floating, the white gone, darkness all around him. His eyelids must have closed for good, then. He tried to open them, but they were glued together.
“You’re relaxed.”
“Yes.” And he was. Lost, still floating. No cares. No secrets or problems. Just…freedom.
Dr. Hennessy asked him another question, but he couldn’t make out the words. They were too jumbled. Odd, then, that he responded anyway. What he said, though, he couldn’t be sure. Again, odd. And yet, he didn’t care. Such peace.
This was heaven, he thought. All that black. So tranquil. So quiet. He wanted to set up shop and stay forever. Perhaps Victoria could even join him. Yes. How kickass would that be? Just the two of them, floating and drifting and relaxing.
Victoria.
He frowned. Here was a care. A care he liked. The thought of her caused the sea to part in a thin line, a little light seeping into his awareness. Where was she? What was she doing? When would he see her again? Tonight, he hoped. They were supposed to meet up, weren’t they? Except, what if she stayed away, like she’d done at school?
He was talking again, he realized, but again, the words were unclear to him.
He should leave the black. Victoria couldn’t come here. There were no doors, only that tiny line of space. Wait. If there were no doors, how had he gotten here? And how was he supposed to leave?
A tiny spark of panic caused the line to widen, and more white flooded that endless sea of black. Another care. This one, he hated, but still he didn’t want to shake it. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong.
Aden.
The voice called to him, echoing. He should recognize it, he thought, panic rising. Who was here? He couldn’t bridge the gap between question and answer.
Aden.
His name had been more insistent that time. Maybe…Elijah?
Aden!
Yes, yes. That was Elijah. What was Elijah doing here? How had Elijah joined him?
ADEN!
“What?” he found himself muttering, and this time he heard himself. His voice rattled inside his skull, and it was like being thumped in the brain, jolting him.
Aden, you have to wake up. I think he hypnotized you.
“What!” His eyelids popped open, practically ripping at the seams. His gaze roved, wild. Dr. Hennessy sat on the end of the recliner, one hand braced beside Aden’s knees, the other clutching a voice recorder. He was leaning forward, that recorder outstretched, mere inches from Aden’s mouth.
There was something…off about him just then. Underneath his plain, human exterior, Aden saw something soft, almost glittery. Something…pretty. As if he had longer, thicker hair. Pale, like snowflakes. As if he had eyes of sparkling brown rather than dull and lifeless ones, and full, pouty lips.
His stomach rolled. He was not attracted to his doctor.
Instinctively, Aden shoved him and the doctor fell off the chair, thudding onto the floor with a gasp. What. The. Hell? “What do you think you were doing?” he demanded.
Dr. Hennessy pushed to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. He still clutched that recorder, but he quickly stuffed the little black device into his pocket, slid his glasses up his nose and smoothed the lint from his shirt and pants.
“I think that’s enough for one session. Mr. Reeves is waiting in the lobby for you.”
Bile rose in Aden’s throat, burning like acid. What did I say? What did I tell him? He had to get that voice recorder. And wasn’t that just perfect? His to-do list lengthened every day.
Dr. Hennessy must have sensed the direction of his thoughts because he strode to his desk and punched a button on his phone.
“Yes?” a female voice asked from the speaker.
“Please let Mr. Reeves know Aden and I are finished. He can now collect the boy.”
Well played. Aden’s eyes narrowed as he sat up. There was nothing he could do now. Not without causing a scene. He would be back, though. And he would get that recorder. No matter what he had to do.
TWELVE
AT THE RANCH, Aden ate a sandwich. Or five. Afterward, he showered while Mr. Thomas stood in the back of the stall and yelled at him. He had his arms braced beside the nozzle, the hot spray hitting him directly in the face. He tried not to care that his first couples shower was with another guy.
“You smell like my sister,” the fairy ghost snarled. “Where have you been?”