Interlude E-Book

Lorelei Bell

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

After an ordeal with the demon Naamah, Sabrina's memory loss leaves her struggling to find herself and wishing to return to her home in the countryside.

When a former adversary resurfaces and threatens her life, Sabrina's allies rally to her protection. While attempting to remember her past, Sabrina has to deal with the perils of the present. 

Can Sabrina come out unscathed and reclaim herself?

Leseprobe

Interlude

Sabrina Strong Book 7

Lorelei Bell

Copyright (C) 2019 Lorelei Bell

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2019 by Next Chapter

Published 2019 by Next Chapter

Cover Design by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Raving Reviews for Sabrina Strong Series

★★★★★ - “Lorelei Bell has created an interesting world with a new type of vampire, not to mention a mixture of magical and supernatural creatures. She has colorful characters, sharp dialogue and an adventurous plot that makes it hard to put down the novel. Highly recommended.”

★★★★★ - “Exciting story line with a lot of drama and adventure.”

★★★★★ - “Unique and believable characters… An enjoyable vampire read.”

★★★★★ - “Sabrina's world just gets more and more exciting… A wonderful follow-up.”

★★★★★ - “Lorelei Bell creates a unique supernatural world… I highly recommend this novel.”

★★★★★ - “Lorelei Bell has a great style for storytelling, and builds a believable world for her complex and colorful characters.”

★★★★★ - “A flipped world with missing persons and vampires galore. Excellent series with interesting characters and great storyline. There's so much to take in while reading through this book. Very satisfying.”

★★★★★ - “If you want a book or series to read that will keep your interest up, this is the one.”

★★★★★ - “Great story and characters that steal the reader's attention. Love this series.

For my husbandWho is always there for me…Hand in handWe standIn the Landof Misfits

Acknowledgments

~to my publisher, Next Chapter, for helping me get my work out there.

~to my fans, who ever you are, where ever you are,

I love meeting every one of you!

DECEMBER 14

The Ethereal World

“Fritz? Fritz!” I called out.

“Whatssup? Who iz dat?” Fritz said, his voice a bit lethargic.

“It's me, Sabrina.”

“Oh, hi, Sabrina. This is weird. We don't have any bodies.”

It was true, and that puzzled me for the moment, but wasn't my biggest concern. Yes. I was floating around near the ceiling, feeling weirdly detached from my physical body. But I figured out quickly what was going on. At least, I hope I had figured it correctly.

“Look down,” I said.

“Whoa! Is that me in the hospital bed?” Fritz said.

“Yes. I'm pretty sure that's you.”

We both looked down at a hospital bed where Fritz was hooked up to several tubes and wires. A constant beeping came from down there. I was pretty sure that was a heart monitor on him.

“Why 'm I up here, above my body?” Fritz asked.

“My best guess is we're unconscious. In a coma,” I said.

“Wait. You too?” he said.

“Yes. I'm pretty certain that I'm somewhere in a hospital, too. I left it to find someone I know. And, here you are. I found you! I guess I was thinking about you, suddenly.”

“But… how? I mean are we dead?” his voice sounded panicked.

“No. See? You're hooked up to things, and I'm pretty sure that beeping is your heart monitor.” I added, “Our auras have left our bodies. I think we're—like—floating around aimlessly.”

“That sounds strange, but I believe you. Hmmm. Never done that before.”

I tried to shrug, but couldn't feel myself shrugging—weird.

“Why are we doing this?” he wondered.

“We were both hurt. Remember? You and Quist got ambushed by vampires.”

“Oh, yeah. I sort of forgot. What about you?”

“I'm trying to remember it. Can't quite remember things. I think I bumped my head or something.”

“Bummer. But it's totally nice here. Isn't it?”

“Well, sure, it's nice. But I want to go back,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because, I'm not ready to check out of here, yet. And you aren't either.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. I got pretty badly beat up back there. Those vampires—yikes!”

“The vampires are gone, now. You don't have to worry about them. You're safe.”

“But it's painful.”

“What?”

“My body. Life. The whole deal. I just like it here better.”

“You can't stay here forever, you know,” I said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because, you're in a coma. You and I both are, and we have to return to our bodies at some point.”

“Maybe you do, but I don't have to,” Fritz said sounding defiant, which seemed so unlike him.

“Well, I can't make you do anything, but I want to go back. Besides, I still have things to take care of, and do. I'm trying to figure things out. I remember some things but not all of it.”

“I remember pain. No love life to speak of…” Fritz sighed.

“Oh, come on, Fritz. You've got a whole life ahead of you. Weren't you going to school for something?”

“Engineering.”

“Right. You said you wanted to build cars.”

“Not build them. I want to design them.”

“Right. See? That's your goal. You really seemed excited about doing that when we talked once about it.”

“Yeah. I guess. I need to get into ITT, but it's really hard. And, I don't have the money.”

“Maybe you'll get a scholarship. You have to go back, Fritz.”

“Why? Give me a good reason.”

“Well, because you have people who love and care about you and will miss you if you die. And, because if you don't go back to your body soon, you'll die eventually. They can't keep you hooked up forever to the machines. It's costly.”

“Well, there's that, I suppose. What else?”

“Christmas! Presents!”

“Hmm. Yeah. I guess. I did ask for a new iPhone from my parents. I think they were going to get it for me.”

“There you go. But if you don't go back soon, they won't be able to afford that phone or give it to you, for that matter. Doctor and hospital bills pile up. You don't want that, do you?”

“I won't have to worry about it, if I'm dead.”

“Fritz! Come on!” I felt a tug. “Oh, darn. I wish I could stay and talk with you some more, Fritz. But I'm being called back. Sorry.”

“No big. You go on ahead. I'll be here thinking about what you said.”

“Think real hard on it, Fritz. Remember, I'll miss you lots, and so will everyone else. Quist is feeling guilty as hell, too.”

He chuckled. “Well, he should!”

“Sorry. Gotta go.”

With a sudden jerk, I returned to my own body. I barely noticed it, except for a sensation of falling. I might have made a sound, like a grunt. But I was back, and glad of it.

December 15

6:05 pm, Chicago Ill.(in route)

“Sabrina is in the hospital,” Stefan Capella said into his cell phone. He twisted around to gaze out the back window of the limo, watching the headlights and tail lights of traffic move slowly around him.

“Why? What happened?” The baritone voice in his ear became frighteningly stern.

He turned back around in his seat. “I'm on my way to the hospital now, sire, to learn exactly that. I only know she's in a coma,” Stefan said, bracing for his father's rebuke.

“Oh, Christ,” Bjorn Tremayne said softly. Stefan flinched at the word. Not that the invocation had rattled him (he had been a devout Roman Catholic while a human), but more that his father, who was a Viking and pagan in his lifetime, had never before uttered His name in his presence before. This wasn't like him at all. It struck Stefan as odd how his father had breathed the word, almost like a prayer. But then, given the circumstances of his relationship with the sibyl, he shouldn't really be surprised.

“Who notified you?” Tremayne asked, bringing Stefan back to the problem at hand.

“Someone named Bill Gannon. You ever hear of him?” Stefan fidgeted with his tie and flicked his wrist to glance at his watch out of habit.

“Did you say Bill Gannon?” The question hung between them.

“Yes. That's the name he gave. I don't know him, but—”

“I know who he is.” Tremayne sounded slightly exasperated. There came a pause of ten seconds. “What does he have to do with it?”

“Again, I'm not sure how deeply he was involved. He called me. Also I'm told Andrew Morkel and, I believe, another person I've never heard of, was present when she disappeared—”

“Disappeared? What do you mean? I thought you said she was in the hospital!”

“She is—”

“Disappeared how? Where to?”

“Actually, Gannon said she'd been abducted,” Stefan said, bracing again for the voice in his ear to boom. Vampire hearing is super sensitive. He decided to put it on speaker, to help lessen the chance of going deaf.

“Abducted! By whom?” Tremayne's words filled the back of the limo, and Stefan had to pull the cell phone an arm's length away, but it was like a sonic boom.

“I've been trying to piece this together, sire. Andrew Morkel filled me in that they were all on the fifth floor trying to speak to a witch who they had realized was summoning these demons. She's apparently the one who broke across our strong wards. Anyway, somehow Sabrina was attacked, and abducted.”

“Fuck!” There was a pause and Stefan waited. “Go on.”

“When they finally got to the witch's room, something happened there. While Sabrina, and three of the others were trying to capture the witch, some other demon must have taken Sabrina away.”

“Where to?”

“I'm not certain.” Stefan looked out the smoky window of the limo. His driver, Ian, turned onto an off-ramp heading out of the city. “I'm on my way to the hospital where she is. I'm meeting with this Gannon. Morkel is driving himself. I'll know more within the hour, and will call you back.”

“How bad is she, if she's in a coma?”

“I only know that she has a bad concussion, head trauma. Everything is stable, the coma is because of the fall when she hit her head, I think he said she hit it on a rock.”

“Rock?”

“A cliff—wherever she was—that's all I know. This Gannon said he'd rather meet with all of us and give the whole story at once, instead of calling us individually. Which makes sense. In any case, I would have gone to the hospital, no matter what.”

“Which hospital?”

“Kinship Memorial in St. Charles.”

“I see. Stefan?”

“Yes, sire?”

“You'll call me as soon as you know anything. I want to know her condition. What's security like at the Towers, now?”

“Everything is good to excellent. The witch has been locked up in a warded cell so that she can't call any more demons, and guarded by a small army of alpha elves.”

“Good job. Call me when you have the full story on Sabrina.”

“I will, sire.” The connection was cut and Stefan slipped his cell phone into his jacket pocket. He reached for the bottle of Real Read, took a sip and found it inferior as usual. He preferred to have his own live donor, but there simply was no time. Not after he received that disturbing phone call from Gannon.

He pressed the intercom button. “Ian, how far is the hospital?”

“About ten or fifteen miles,” came Ian's deep voice.

“How's traffic?” Stefan had noticed the car slowing down repeatedly.

“Horrible.” They were moving at a snail's pace.

“Is there another way? A short cut so we can get off this fucking road?” Stefan asked.

“Let me see, sir. I'm bringing up the GPS now. Ah. Yes. I can turn off up ahead, and take some blacktop roads.”

“That would be great.”

“It might be further in miles.”

“I don't care. This Christmas shopping traffic is insane.” Stefan huffed his frustration. “Oh, for the good old days,” he added in a withering tone and rubbed his forehead.

“Right. We've got about two miles before I can turn off,” Ian said.

“Fine. Get us the hell to the hospital within the hour and I'll throw in a small Christmas bonus on top of your usual.”

“Thank you sir. I'll see what I can do.”

“I knew I should have just flown,” Stefan said to himself.

Stefan drew his hand away from the intercom and took another sip of the slightly warmed bottled blood. Ian was a good driver, knew his way around Chicago, as well as New York (and everyone knew New York was a bitch to learn, and then maneuver around in). Ian, who was human, had a good attitude; knowing his boss was a vampire hadn't bothered him one bit, and Stefan had not had to bite him to make him accept and work for him.

The hand holding the bottle lowered and he settled it into a holder by his seat. Sabrina had better make a full recovery, or this Bill Gannon would suffer greatly.

* * *

6:25pm

Kinship Memorial Hospital, St. Charles

Bill Gannon paced in the waiting room, his nerves were on a razor's edge. Looking at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time. Six twenty-four. He hoped they would be here soon. He had told all three men to meet him here at Kinship Memorial Hospital at 6:30. After explaining about Sabrina Strong's condition, he had given them directions to this hospital. All three men were in Sabrina's life, and two of the three had been there, in that hotel room, when Sabrina was abducted by the demon.

Senses tingling, he turned expectantly. The Were who had been with them that day to find the witch, now walked into the waiting room. Black leather, bluejeans, tattoos, unshaven; he looked typical of his ilk.

“Hobart,” Bill said, recalling that was all the man went by. He didn't know if this was his last name or first. He extended a hand to him. The man's hand was rough, like a person who worked with them, such as a carpenter, or laborer of some sort. “Glad you could make it.”

“We were worried when she disappeared, and then you after. Your call was a big relief, actually. How is she now?” Hobart's eyes looked red, like he hadn't had much sleep.

“The doctor is with her, now. We're hopeful she comes out of the coma soon,” Bill said.

“Oh, hi,” a woman with dark hair and similar features as Sabrina, flounced into the room breathless. “I had to stop in the lady's room. What did I miss?” She stopped and looked at Bill who dropped his gaze to her. Her mouth went open and no sound came out.

“Hi, I'm Bill Gannon,” Bill said, extending his hand to her.

“This is Lindee Strong, Sabrina's cousin. I called her, since I knew she'd be worried,” Hobart said, taking in her quiet gape. “She usually isn't at a loss for words.”

When Lindee recovered, she said, “Damn, it figures that Sabrina would know someone so gorgeous.”

Both Bill and Hobart chuckled. “I'm just a friend.”

“Will we be able to see her? Speak to her?” Hobart asked, going back to the subject.

“That will be up to the doctor. Even I haven't been allowed in as I'm not a relative.”

“They'd let me in, I bet,” Lindee said, cracking her knuckles.

“I would say that they would,” Bill agreed.

“What happened to her?” Lindee asked.

“It's a long story and I'd rather not have to repeat it, if you'll indulge me just a few more minutes. The other two should be here any minute,” Bill said.

“Who else?” Hobart asked.

“Andrew, for one. I also thought I should tell the vampire mogul in charge, since it happened in his hotel. I was a little surprised that Tremayne is gone and someone else in his place.”

“You called Tremayne about this?” Hobart said.

“Well, yes. Or at least I tried. But he wasn't there,” Bill said. “It was someone named Stefan.”

Hobart dropped his head, hands on slim hips. He seemed disappointed about that.

A ping of anger jumped through Bill, and the unusually strong emotion seemed displaced. He really didn't know where the anger had come from. He stood for a moment trying first to gain control of his emotions—because he suddenly just wanted to beat the guys brains in—and then to understand why. The why part wasn't coming through. He glanced up at Hobart, noticing a tattoo snaking up around his neck.

He'd had sex with her… in their animal state.

Wait. How did I know that? Where had that come from? Bill stepped away, looking at his watch, or pretending to. He knew Nemesis could sometimes tell him things with telepathy. This is just like her, giving me information that she feels I need. I really don't want that much information, okay?

Sorry, my sweet. I thought I'd better give you the inside scoop on that, Nemesis' voice said in his head.

Not now, Bill said to Nemesis through their telepathic connection.

Bill ascertained that there was no romance between the Were and Sabrina at all. Friendship, yes. And like that, his anger lifted. Just a little. The man had been indignant and slightly disrespectful. Disrespectful of him? Maybe. Yes, he was showing signs of impatience. But the man had no real reason to respect him. Not yet. Not until he heard what had happened and how he had gotten Sabrina away from the demon.

“I'm sorry I'm a bit late, but the traffic was horrible!” The new man's voice made Bill turn to the doorway. The man who rushed in was a trim six foot, handsome with sandy hair with some gray at the temples with bright blue eyes. One wouldn't be able to guess the man was elf.

“Andrew, thank you for coming.” Bill stepped toward him and shook his hand.

“Nothing, not even the worst Christmas shopping mania, could keep me away,” he said with a smile, running fingers through his sandy hair. “How is she?”

“We're waiting to hear from her doctor,” Bill said. Someone else walked in and they all turned.

A man strode in with steely eyes, and a frown etched on his face. Broad shoulders filled out his expensive black suit. Black silk tie and shirt made him look mobster-like. Although he stood around five ten, his carriage shouted power and danger in the same breath. Olive complexion, black hair, Bill guessed his heritage as possibly Italian. He aimed a deadly look toward Bill, as if daring him to give him bad news. Vampire, obviously.

“Mr. Capella?” Bill said, and almost put out his hand. But this was a vampire. With no desire to touch him, Bill let his hand drop to his side. But he dared to stare right back into those violet eyes of his.

“I want you to know I hold you completely responsible for Sabrina's condition,” Capella growled.

“As well you should,” Bill countered. “And then you should thank me for rescuing her from a very powerful demon.”

That got everyone's attention. Sabrina's cousin made a sudden gasp.

Bill looked to Hobart and Andrew. “These two gentlemen were present when Sabrina was abducted from the fifth floor of Tremayne Towers.”

“That's true,” Andrew said, turning to Capella. “We were trying to apprehend the witch, as I'm sure you recall, who was sending all those demons at Sabrina. We did finally capture her, but because of the confusion—” his blue eyes darted toward the others “—we didn't see the demon who took Sabrina. Bill, here, was somehow able to follow her and bring her back.”

“So I've been told,” Capella said, folding his arms across his heavy chest. “Now, tell us what happened and where you had to go to get her back.”

Bill took a breath before he began his story. “As Mr. Morkel has just indicated, I followed her to somewhere that was all red sandstone, and the sky very dark. When I arrived, Sabrina was climbing a cliff, and a very large demon, the likes of which I've never seen nor heard of, was pursuing her—eh, believe it or not—with his two tails.”

“Tails?” The question came from all four of them.

“Two?” Capella said, eyes squeezed as though he knew exactly which demon he described.

“Yes. Two very large serpent tails, and large bat-like wings. With one tail he reached for Sabrina,” Bill explained. “She tried to escape, but we were in a canyon of some sort. When I tried to help her, he grabbed me with his other tail and began to crush me. Meanwhile, he grabbed Sabrina and pulled her down, whereby she fell, and I'm pretty certain she hit her head on the rocks.”

“Oh, no!” Lindee said, hands to her mouth.

“How did you get her away from him?” Hobart asked.

“First of all, Sabrina made an effort to kill him with the dagger. The dagger melted before it came into contact with him.” Bill paused. How did he know this? He was pretty certain he hadn't seen it. Or had he?

“The dagger is no more?” Andrew asked, looking utterly horrified by this aspect, and Bill wasn't sure why.

“It's gone,” Bill said and shrugged.

“How did you get her away from that demon?” Capella demanded. “Not that I'm buying any of this crap.”

“Yes. Especially since the one you described is the most powerful demon on Dark World, his name is Naamah,” Andrew said.

“Was. Past tense. I annihilated him,” Bill said, and crossed his arms in front of himself daring any of them to contradict him. He sent Andrew Morkel a bold glare, and then turned to Capella with the same glare.

Andrew and Hobart exchanged glances of astonishment.

“How would you be able to do that, Mr. Gannon? Are you some sort of magical creature? If so, what are you? A genie?” Capella shook his head, chuckled to himself. “No one could go up against Naamah, not even my father could, and he has been in Dark World a number of times.”

“Apparently I've been imbued with powers that are inarguably greater than even the most powerful demon in Dark World. Otherwise I couldn't have destroyed him, could I? Perhaps you should consider this before you go off on me, Mr. Capella.”

“A threat?” Capella laughed huskily and looked around to the others, as if to mock Bill. “So, what sort of magical being are you?” Capella asked, challenge still in his voice. “Not an elf, surely.”

“Excuse me,” Andrew interrupted, giving Bill a long, steady look. “Since I'm the only magical creature in the room—” He broke off and looked around to see that they were indeed alone in the waiting room. “I can tell you that he is not a magical creature. No. He is something more than all the components gathered here and then some.”

Bill had a new regard for the elf. He smiled and nodded to him. “Thank you, Andrew.”

“In order for you to have slain Naamah, you would have to have the powers of—dare I say it?” Once again Morkel looked around and his voice went down in decibels to a near stage whisper. “A god?”

Bill's eyes flicked over Andrew. My goddess! Is that it? Is that what I've become? Nemesis has turned me into a god? A chill went through him, and it was akin to the realization of something monumental. Of course. How else could he have killed—utterly destroyed—that ugly beast in Dark World? He did his level best to hold a poker face, and not stumble back with the weight of the news.

“When will we be able to see Sabrina?” Capella asked. Clearly, he was a most impatient man.

“First of all,” Bill said, hands palms out to him, “you have to understand, Sabrina has lost her memory. All of it. She didn't know me, and she didn't even know her own name when she came to before I got her to the hospital. I'm certain she will not recognize any of you.”

The room as a whole gasped.

“That's true, what he said.” Everyone turned to the new male voice that entered the waiting room. Hands stuffed in the large pockets of his white coat, a stethoscope sticking out of one, the doctor strode in from a different hallway.

“Everyone, this is Doctor Phillips,” Bill introduced. “He has been taking care of our Sabrina.”

“I'm happy to announce Sabrina is awake. She is out of her coma,” the doctor said with a warm smile.

A sigh of relief went through the crowd.

“Oh, thank God!” Lindee said. “When can we see her?”

The doctor held up his hand to halt the questions. “Aside from all the contusions on her body, her head is what concerns us the most at this point. Yes. She has lost her memory, and has trouble with her balance. I'm keeping her here for a little while longer for observation and rest. She had a cut in the back of the head which required six staples. Just so you know, we've bandaged her head, and it looks much worse than it is.” Dr. Phillips looked at each of the people gathered in the waiting room. “Now, as to her memory. Her memory is still lost. I answered her questions—the ones I could—and told her where she was, why she was here—uh, to a point, of course.” He looked at Bill. “Eh, I understand that one of you is a werewolf?” he looked at Hobart—“a vampire”—he looked at Capella—“and I see we have a member of the fae.” He turned and smiled at Andrew. “In any case Sabrina's memory is gone. It is as though she was in a coma all her life and only now came to. I must warn you as sternly as I possibly can, to not tell her what any of you are. At least right now. It may shock her so deeply she may go back into a coma again.”

“Well, I'm just a plain old human, and I'm related. Do I get to go and see her?” Lindee asked, fists to hips, looking ready to barge right through the doctor.

Dr. Phillips beamed and chuckled his answer. “Yes. Yes, of course. You all may go in for a short while. Let me take you all back to her room.” He reached out to Lindee. “What is your name, my dear?”

“Lindee,” she said, stepping over to him. “Lindee Strong. I'm her cousin.”

“Well, then, you will go in first. I'd like Sabrina to see you first, without the others, just for a minute or two. I want to see if her memory might be jarred a little bit at the sight of you.”

“Well, if it is, she might be mad at me since I've borrowed her jeans.” She pointed down at herself, one foot out indicating the dark denims she wore. The men all laughed.

“That might be a very good jarring,” the doctor agreed with a chuckle.

Kinship Memorial Hospital ~same night

Room #213

The dark-haired woman stepped into the room. Our eyes met. I knew who she was right away, but I wasn't sure how I knew. Her name came to me within ten seconds. Lindee Strong. My cousin.

“Hi,” Lindee said, stepping closer. “How you feeling, hon?” Her mellow voice and concern made me relax. She wasn't a threat to me. Some how my body had tensed up as soon as the young woman, Lindee, entered the room. It was as though I had to put everyone through some sort of mental test to know if they were a threat, and I didn't know why that was.

“I'm okay. My head hurts a little, but they're giving me pain medication. You're Lindee, aren't you? My cousin?”

Her eyes went wide and a hand went to her chest. “You remember me?”

“No,” I said. “I'm just getting your name and who you are… don't ask me how.” I frowned and said, “This is really weird. I seem to know the names of everyone who comes into my room.”

“Oh. Well that's because you're a clairvoyant.”

“I am?”

“Yep. And a damned good one too,” Lindee said, sounding boastful. She looked back at the door as if expecting someone to come through it.

“I'll bet there's like four men waiting to come in and see me,” I said. This clairvoyant thing explained how I knew a bunch of things, yet didn't remember anyone as yet who stepped into my room.

“Yep. You have no lack of male admirers,” she said. “You ready to see them?”

“I suppose.”

Lindee moved back to the open door and motioned to the men waiting outside.

Four men, as different as four men could be, stepped into my room quietly, all of them smiling. One was very upset—I wasn't sure at who, but it was the shorter man with raven black hair and striking blue eyes dressed entirely in black. His emotions overwhelmed me—I didn't know how I caught the emotions, too. Something about him was scary—something I couldn't quite fathom from the depths of my sore brain. I wasn't certain how long I might have known him, but his smile and eyes, which never blinked once, seemed to have a strange longing, or hunger in them directed at me.

I darted my glance off him and slid it over to the very tall and extremely gorgeous man with the beard and the greenest eyes I think I'd ever seen—well, since I couldn't remember anything, I suppose they were. I somehow knew his name was Bill. What a common name for such an unusually handsome man. Oh. That's right. I remembered seeing him somewhere before. Before I came here to the hospital. I remembered his face hovering over me while I was prone and in agony. I had the strongest notion that he was the one who'd gotten me to this hospital. Oh, yes. Now I remembered a car ride and his face looking back at me from the front seat. Everything was coming to me in bits and pieces and it was frustrating the hell out of me.

The next man was different too. Thin, and lean and hard-muscled, like he worked hard for a living. He looked wild, unshaven, hair untrimmed. But I found his smile and brown eyes genuinely soft for a man who seemed rough and tumble. He harbored a small secret that wanted to come to me, but I simply couldn't pull it out. All of them had secrets and I knew that they would not reveal them to me. At least, not right now.

The next man was about six foot, sandy hair, handsome, an impeccable dresser, and I had no idea what his name was. This was odd. I knew the other men's names right away… Hobart, Bill, and Stefan. His blue eyes glittered as he looked at me from the other side of my bed.

“I think I can safely speak for all of us, here,” the man whose name I couldn't get said. “We've been worried sick.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I'm sorry, I don't know your name.”

“My name is Andrew. Andrew Morkel.” He turned to the swarthy man next to him. The angry one, although he wasn't angry at me. I could tell because now he had a smile on his face as he gazed at me without blinking. “This is Stefan Capella. That's Hobart, and that's Bill Gannon.” He introduced, hand out to each man as he did.

“Hi,” I said and turned my eyes to the man named Stefan. “Who are you angry at?”

Stefan blinked, finally. “What? Why would I be angry?” He chuckled a little, trying to defuse whatever emotions he had thrown out there.

“That's what I'm asking you,” I said. “Who among these others are you angry at?”

The men all shifted on their feet, Hobart and Bill looked at one another, Andrew and Bill chuckled, as though I'd made a little joke. I was dead serious.

“Really. I'd like to know,” I said.

“He's probably angry at me,” the tall, drop-dead, green-eyed handsome one said.

“You, Bill? Why? What did you do to make him angry?”

Bill slid his green gaze toward Stefan. Stefan wouldn't look back at him.

“I'm the one who was there to help you in your time of need,” Bill said. “Possibly, he's jealous of this fact.”

Lindee snickered and I impaled her with a look. “You know something,” I said, and couldn't help but pick it up. My own emotions rippling from suspicions to annoyed. They were all hiding something from me. “Something about vampires, demons and werewolves?”

“Damn it,” Lindee said, shuffling forward with something in her hands. “I forgot.” She placed a pair of white gloves at my side. “You'd better put these on, or you'll be reading every damn person who comes into this room. It all might make you go into a dead faint.”

“Really?” I said.

“Yes. The clairvoyant thing. You're a touch clairvoyant, but you don't usually have to touch anything to know stuff. Trust me. You'll feel better if you put those on,” she said, nodding to the black gloves.

I picked up the gloves and eyed them. I then eyed my visitors and wondered why this was so important. The IV needle was taped to the top of my right hand, so I couldn't really put that glove on, but I pulled the other glove on my left hand. It fit snuggly, and it felt familiar. I lifted the other glove. “I can't wear this one, though.”

“Here,” Hobart said and took the glove out of my hand. He turned away from everyone and was doing something to it.

I resumed my questioning of the man named Stefan. “Are you my husband?” I asked.

“What?” He seemed too genuinely shocked at the question to be my husband. “No. I'm sorry.”

“Then, is it Bill?” I asked.

“No. I'm afraid not,” Bill said, looking a bit wistful. Interesting.

“Why are you asking us this?” Andrew asked.

“Because I've got a wedding band and a huge diamond ring on my left hand.” I lifted my left hand—but it was covered up now. “Has something happened to my husband? Why isn't he here?”

Stefan stepped closer. “It's hard to explain, carrisima, but your husband, Vasyl, is unable to be here with you at this time.”

“Why? What has happened to him?” Vasyl? What a strange name.

Stefan shot looks back at Andrew Morkel, silently asking for help in answering this.

“Your husband has… been called away. We have not been able to reach him,” Morkel said, his ears turning red. A lie, or a white lie, at least.

If any of the others had said this, I might have been able to know the truth. I don't know how. Was my power of second sight that good?

“Okay,” I said. “I'll accept that for the time being.”

“Here you go, Alfa Girl.” Hobart stepped up and held out the glove to me. He had made a slit in the glove along the top so that I could slip it over my fingers and not cover up the IV needle where it went into the vein on the top of my hand. I found the effect of the gloves soothing right away. I barely had any other knowledge of my visitors once the gloves were in place. But I still could feel emotions swirling around the room. Jealousy. The men all are jealous of one another. Why? Had they all dated me once? But not Andrew Morkel.

I looked up at Hobart. His light brown eyes met mine. I smiled at him. “What was that you called me? An endearment?” I asked him.

“What?” he asked, looking startled.

“You called me 'Alfa Girl',” I said.

He tried to veil his embarrassment by looking away from me, and shuffling back to where the others were. “That's what I call you. Alfa Girl.” Hands in pockets, he shrugged.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Phillips stepped into the room, bringing our little conversation to an abrupt close. “I hate to bring this up at this time, but I do need to have some insurance information on Ms. Strong. The office is bugging the hell out of me. Do any of you have any idea if she does have insurance?”

“She does. Through Tremayne Inc.,” Stefan said at once, and turned to him. “I'll be happy to fill out any forms, to the best of my abilities.”

Bill turned to Stefan. “She still works for Tremayne?”

Stefan's head jerked to look at him. “Is that any of your concern?”

“Possibly not. However, you don't know her personal information,” Bill said smoothly. He turned to Lindee. “Do you know where Sabrina would have left her purse? They'll need date of birth and other things.”

“Uh, I may be able to be of some assistant,” Morkel said.

“I can look it up in her files,” Stefan said, his anger bubbling up. Perhaps slightly angrier than he was a moment ago.

“She might have left her purse at the penthouse,” Lindee offered quietly, and went back to chewing on her thumb.

“I have all of her personal information,” Morkel insisted. “After all, I also work for Tremayne Inc.”

“Can you get it here?” Stefan said, glaring at Morkel.

Morkel held up a black flat thing in his hand. “I have it all here.”

“Very well,” Stefan said. “Bring us any paperwork you might have for her.”

“I will take you gentlemen to the front desk,” the doctor said.

“Probably best we all leave. She's been through hell,” Bill said.

They all began filing out and Lindee said something to me, so I wasn't watching when something happened before the men slipped out the door.

“Okay. I've had it up to here with you—” Stefan's voice rose. Lindee turned, giving me a view of Stefan's hands going for Bill's throat. Although Bill stood more than a foot taller than him, he was like a pit bull on a mailman's leg. Both hands gripped Bill's throat in a choke hold. Bill easily knocked him away, sending Stefan crashing into the wall, which put a hairline crack into it. Well, Crap!

“Gentlemen. Please!” Dr. Phillips said, shocked at such a display of violence in his hospital.

Lindee, who had been yipping little streams of swearwords, trying to jump out of the way of the two men, now let out a sharp guffaw in the quiet aftermath. Quickly she put her hands over her mouth to silence herself. Hobart had pulled her away from the fray the split second it had all started. Morkel now stood along side my bed as if to shield me from the fray. Now, Hobart stepped around Morkel in front of my bed, putting me and Lindee behind himself, also shielding. Protectors. It gave me a secure sense for the time being.

Bill and Stefan stared warily at one another, like two alley cats measuring each other up. If they had been cats their fur would be bristled out, backs arched, and their ears back hissing and spitting at one another. Jeeze. Men.

“Outside,” Bill said, and stepped out of the room. Stefan followed him. I was certain they were not going to fight. They were in a hospital, after all. But I followed them with my eyes. Dr. Phillips let the door partially close, and leaned through the opening to give them a warning. If they took it, I didn't know, but doubted it.

* * *

“I promise not to kill you, Stefan, as long as you don't try anything like that again,” Bill said between clenched teeth. “Can we simply agree to disagree?”

Stefan squeezed his eyes at Bill. The nerve of the man. Who the hell did he think he was? But caution overrode his need to pummel the guy. If it's true, and he really did kill Naamah, then, he is quite possibly stronger than any demon or vampire anywhere. He reconsidered teaching him a lesson. At least for the time being.

Bill folded his arms and looked down at him. “Where is Vasyl? Or do you even know?”

“I actually do not know where Vasyl is,” Stefan said. That was the truth.

“Why isn't he here, with her?” Then he added, “I warn you, I'll know if you lie.”

Stefan let go an exasperated sigh. “He had to leave Sabrina because of a blood issue.”

Bill's brow arched. “Her blood? He became attracted to her blood?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“About three, or four nights ago. After he became magnate. At any rate, he had to abdicate in the light of… things.”

“He did? And so he left because of her blood?”

“It's complicated.” Stefan shook his head and brought his hands up in a calming gesture. “Look, it happens. Vasyl was with Sabrina when she started her menses, and that was it. He had to get the hell away from her. Sibyl's blood is too much for a vampire to resist. He did the only thing he could do. He left. I'm sure he is as far away from her as he could get.” Stefan paused and said, “I think you should know I was dating her. Before this accident, I mean.”

“Dating her?” Bill said, surprise in his voice. “You certainly don't waste time, do you?”

Stefan squeezed his eyes at him again. “She's still the sibyl. Right? I mean that can't have changed. Right?”

Bill inclined his head. “Yes. There would be no reason that would change. She simply can't recall things. She knew our names only because she is the sibyl—she got that from her talents.”

“That makes sense.”

“Where will she be taken, once she is released from the hospital?” Bill asked. “Her house was swarming with demons, last I checked.”

“Back to the Towers. She has a penthouse.”

“Penthouse? On which side? Vampire, or human?”

“I put her in the human side, of course.”

“She'll need someone to watch over her.”

“She has servants.”

“You've hired servants too?” Stefan nodded. “So, she's a kept woman.”

“She's married, until someone says otherwise. But she is the sibyl and must become pregnant.”

“Oh. That's right. That silly prophesy.” Stefan gave him a warning glare, but Bill's eyes slid away in thought, then nodded. “So, Vasyl is gone. How has this dubious task go to you?”

He was a comedian, this one was. And how the hell did he know about the prophesy.?He couldn't wait to speak to father about this one. “I was next in line. Once Vasyl abdicated, I was put into the magnate position. I am a master, in case you wondered.”

“No. I wasn't wondering that at all,” Bill said smugly. “But remember, as we've been told, she doesn't remember anything about her life. She doesn't know she is the sibyl. To tell her, even that much, might bring back too much too soon. What she endured in Dark World was horrifying. Also, you had better be more careful about that temper of yours. She is probably wondering how the two of us didn't get a bloody nose or broken neck from our scuffle in there.” Bill inclined his head toward the room.

“No problem, as long as you stay out of my way and out of my business. The sibyl is mine. By all rights I've won her fair and square.”

Bill snickered, refolding his arms. “I won't challenge that. I just hope Ms. Strong has no objections.”

Stefan smiled. “There should be no problem there, Gannon.” He turned and strode out the waiting room and got into the elevator.

* * *

Dr. Phillips stepped out of the hallway into the waiting room where Bill was. “Quite a discussion. Everything okay?” The doctor's thick brows went up to Bill.

“Yeah. I didn't count on him, that's all.”

“A suitor to our young sibyl?” the doctor said.

“Apparently.” Bill still stared at the elevator.

“I detect your disappointment. You were hoping to have a relationship with her?”

“Seems like someone is always in line in front of me,” Bill said.

The doctor patted his shoulder. “Well, you never know, since she doesn't know him, or anyone for that matter, any more, everything is like a clean slate. You may still have a chance to impress her.”

Bill hiked his shoulder. “Maybe.”

Dr. Phillip chuckled, and stepped away.

“Oh, doctor?”

“Yes, my boy?”

“I was wondering, could I make an appointment for an examination?”

“Examination?”

“I—” Bill looked down at the pebbled gray carpet. “I just need to verify a few things. My wings, especially.” He said the last in a low voice.

“Were they injured?”

Bill caught someone's shadow become long in the hall. “We'll talk.”

“Call my office in the morning. I'll try to move a few things around.”

“Great.” Bill watched the doctor exit the room. He looked to find it was Hobart who had entered from the hallway creating that shadow.

“Everything okay?” Bill asked.

“Yeah. The nurses came in. She needs to have some privacy. I thought—”

“Yes?”

“I thought it would be good if someone stays and watches over her.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Just in case. You don't know her as well as I do.”

“No. I'm sure I don't.”

“She's been under attack by demons.”

“I knew that part.”

“And that witch,” Bill added.

“Right.”

“So, I thought I'd take the night watch.” Hobart bent and sat on the couch.

“Okay. Who will watch her tomorrow?”

“Well, I thought maybe I'd ask around. I don't have a job right now. Actually my job is watching over Sabrina.” He chuckled. “That's like a full-time job in itself.” Bill chuckled with him.

“What's this about Sabrina?” Morkel and Lindee stepped into the room.

“We were discussing having watches put on Sabrina,” Hobart said. “I volunteered for the night shift.”

“Very well,” Morkel said. “I think I might be able to get away for a few hours tomorrow. I'll see if a few others might be able to come out. Like Rick, perhaps.” He looked at his watch.

“Rick? Does he even know?” Hobart asked.

“I hadn't thought of it, actually. Thanks for reminding me. Oh, he's going to be ticked at us for leaving him out of the loop.” Morkel's brow crinkled.

“No doubt.”

“But, when I heard that she didn't remember anyone, the sight of Rick…”

“Yeah. Might be a bit of a shock.”

“Who's Rick?” Bill asked.

“Oh, he's a leprechaun,” Lindee piped up.

“And that's bad because?” Bill asked.

“Because he hasn't any arms.” Morkel said. “His hands are attached to his shoulders. Ah, it's a birth defect.”

“Ah, I see.” Bill turned to Hobart. “I've a few things to do tomorrow, but when I can, I'll come and take over for whoever is here, if they need a break.”

11:45pm ~ same night

Hobart's fourth cup of coffee sat half-full on the coffee table. He had found an old novel and picked it up to read. It wasn't bad, but not his usual reading material. It was nearly midnight, last time he looked.

The scream from the hallway alarmed him. He threw down the novel, jumped over the coffee table, and was in Sabrina's room within ten seconds. Sabrina's screams were loud, and didn't stop. It were as though someone was torturing her. Why aren't the nurses coming? his mind screamed.

When he entered her room, she was flailing around in her bed. Her screams were torn from her. There was no one in the room with her—unless they were invisible. Without thinking, Hobart went to her and grasped her shoulders and yelled, “Sabrina! Sabrina! It's just a dream! You're okay! You're okay, babe. You're safe.”

Tear stained eyes looked up at him. Two seconds passed between them, and he pulled her into the comforting folds of his arms. She looked relieved to realize she had only been dreaming. He'd known people who had been in a war, and had dealt with PTSD. Nightmares were just part of the post war symptoms where they went back to that painful, horrifying moment that made them slightly unstable, unable to deal, the memories burned into their minds forever.

Sabrina stopped shivering. She sniffled once and said, “Wow. You're really warm.”

With realization, Hobart let her go and stepped away from her. “Sorry. I didn't know what to do.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

That was when someone stepped right through the wall and scared the bejezus out of Hobart and he twirled to face them head on, pulling out both the metal claws from his belt, ready to hack whoever to pieces.

He recognized Bjorn Tremayne and stopped dead in his tracks. It took another two seconds for him to relax and drop his hands holding the weapons. Then he sheathed the silver-coated three-pronged three inch claws. The only part he could touch were where his fingers fit into the loops to hold them. He'd had this belt buckle special made so that the claws fit into the buckle in such a way that it hid them, they appeared to be nothing more than part of the intertwining decoration on the buckle.

Tremayne glared at him. “Out of my way, Were.”

“God damn you to hell!” Hobart spat. No one could sneak up on him—not a vampire, and not a Were. But this one had, and it had startled him.

“He already has,” Tremayne quipped, stepping over to Sabrina's bed. “What's happening? Why are you here?”

“I heard her scream.” Hobart looked back at the door. “I don't know why the nurse hasn't come in, yet.” He turned to Sabrina. She was jerking her head back and forth. “What the hell? She was fine just now. I swear!”

“Out of the way, wolfman.” Tremayne practically shoved Hobart out of the way with the hulk of his own body. Automatically, he placed his finders to Sabrina's temples. “Just as I thought. She's having a vision.”

“A vision? Now?” Hobart said.

Someone rushed into the room. Now a nurse comes?

“What are you two doing!” the nurse asked, looking both terrified and ready to kick them out. “Get out of here! She's having a seizure!” She rushed up to the bedside.

“Take it easy, Nurse Ratchet,” Tremayne said glaring her down.

“I'll call security if you don't step away from her at once!” she threatened.

“Oh, crap,” Hobart said, looking at the master vampire. Now what do we do?

Tremayne turned his teal gaze on her. His eyes went from sea green to blood red. “You need to relax.”

The nurse blinked and then swooned.

“Shit!” Hobart, who was closest to the nurse, caught her. “What do I do with her?” He asked desperately, holding the limp nurse by the armpits. If anyone comes in here seeing this…

“Put her over in that chair. I'll be done in a minute,” Tremayne said, nodding to the chair in the corner.

Hobart dragged the unconscious nurse to a chair and arranged her in it the best he could. She slid, nearly going to the floor, and he had to pull her back up, and had to re-arrange her skirt as it had slid up to her hips. When he got her situated he stepped over to the bed.

“What are you doing?” He looked at Sabrina. “She seems calmer, now.”

“It's called a mind touch,” Tremayne said. “Only a vampire can reach her in this state and bring her out of the vision. Otherwise she might go into a semi-automatic state for hours, maybe days if the vision is so strong.”

Hobart nodded. “Why did you come? I thought you were all the way in California.”

“I was—am.” He made an exasperated sound and looked up at Hobart briefly. “I slipped back here. We share a blood bond, Sabrina and I. A very strong one, by the way.”

“Oh. Yeah. Forgot.” He didn't like that part about Sabrina's relationship with the big bad Viking vampire. It made her vulnerable. Especially now. But he was certain he wouldn't harm her. It was just him feeling he needed to defend Sabrina against all things, including the damned vampires whom she knew.

“Why are you here?” Tremayne folded his huge arms across this chest, biceps putting a strain on his shirtsleeves, and glared down at him. The guy stood around seven feet tall. The biggest damned vampire Hobart had ever seen in his life.

“I'm guarding her,” he said in his most gravely voice.

“Good. Someone should. Who will be on duty during the day?” Sabrina made a whimpering sound. He replaced his fingers to Sabrina's temples.

“Bill Gannon. Maybe Morkel, and possibly Rick. Oh, and her cousin, Lindee.”