Grim Echoes

Chapter 11 - Maeve

Maeve washed her hands and stared into the mirror. Where was she? What time was it? Where was her purse? Her cell was in her purse and without it, she couldn't answer any of those questions. She glanced at the window again. That was the easy way out, well unless there were more demons. She leaned down and splashed cold water on her face. No, this was not some dream - this was happening. Demons were real, not just some vision she had experienced with her ability. The two dangerous and violent men she had been thinking about all day and re-living their memories were just outside the door. How did this happen? Everything in her body told her to run and get away from here, but where would she go? No one was going to believe her if she started talking about demons. Hell, she had admitted someone two weeks ago for talking about demons. She turned off the water.

She had wanted to help them, but at the same time she didn't want to do this anymore. Frustrated, she sat on the edge of the tub. Part of her was terrified of them. She knew what they were capable or at least what she thought they'd done. Unfortunately, her ability didn't clarify everything for her. Sometimes things she experienced weren't exactly what they seemed. Violence rolled off of the muscular one in waves that threatened her every time he spoke. How could someone who was supposed to protect people be so menacing? The other with the brilliant green eyes seemed detached and clinical, but something stirred just beneath the surface and made her uncomfortable. Maeve was positive she was safer here with them, at least from the demons.

Maeve stood slowly, needed to trust her gut. There was more to them than what they'd showed her. She'd seen their souls, and they weren't evil, they wouldn't hurt her, but the events of the night had shaken her. Just had to calm down and get her things back, then find out what the next step was. Focus on the next step for now, she reminded herself as she opened the bathroom door.

They were still outside. She scanned the room. At a motel, not a gross one but not an expensive one from the outdated looks. Were they still in Richmond? Maeve had never fainted or blacked out in her life, so she had nothing to compare it to. No familiar clues to help her resolve anything. She checked the nightstand between the beds for a clock. There was always a clock. Crap, except for there, of course. She looked at the windows, even with the curtains closed, a sliver of window peeked through, enough to know it was night. Maybe she hadn't been out that long, or it could be the next day. She frowned. She was supposed to work tomorrow night. Or maybe it was tonight. She padded around the small standard room and searched for her purse. Could she return to work?

Demons. She shuddered. The only time she'd ever glimpsed at what a demon might be was during a soul touch with a patient at the behavioral center. When it had happened she'd experienced nightmares for weeks, waking up in cold sweats, uncertain if she was in hell or not. Clutching her stomach, she moved to their bags. Couldn't think about that right now.

Her fingers slid the zipper open. Just as she was about to put her hand inside, she paused. He'd told her not to go into the bags. She thought back to the images she'd seen with them. It would only be weapons. Shouldn't have thought about what she'd experienced with them. Her knees buckled and forced her to the floor. The steely eyed solder's memory pushed to the front of her thoughts.

"You have a knack for this, soldier. You're getting promoted, chief interrogator. Course with this fucking heat could've just left him in the sun for a few hours, but this was better, more entertaining," General Stein said.

Humans were nothing compared to the monsters she'd fought before, much easier to break. Shit, she knew that look. He got off on hurting people. It didn't matter as long as they only hurt the enemy, right?

The gore and pain fresh again. She tried to slow her labored breaths and reminded herself it wasn't real. Not exactly real for her, anyway. Whenever she shared a soul touch with someone, it echoed. The first few days were the hardest. Visceral, it overwhelmed everything else. Often she'd struggled to distinguish reality from her experience with those she'd connected with. It was difficult not to get lost in someone else. Her head drooped as her eyes closed.