20

Winter suddenly felt her knees buckle and braced herself on the backrest of the armchair she’d sought shelter behind when Manus had appeared in the apartment.

“Are you alright?” Logan asked and hurried toward her, but she lifted her hand to stop him.

“Don’t.”

She didn’t want to feel his arms around her now, not even to support her. He’d lied to her from the very start. He’d been there to kill her. It wasn’t something a girl could easily forgive and forget.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes shone with regret. “I was afraid you’d run from me. And I couldn’t risk that. It would have put you in danger. But after what I saw today, what happened with Gabriel, I felt you were ready to hear the truth.” He shrugged. “But then Manus beat me to it…”

She shook her head. “I’m not some brainless damsel from a 1950s movie who’s too stupid to know who keeps her safe. I wouldn’t have run. You could have told me earlier.”

The answer seemed to surprise him. “I should have known that.”

“You should have,” she murmured under her breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, at least he said all the right things. It was a start. But it didn’t change anything about the facts: Logan had been there to kill her.

“Your plan was to poison me. Why poison?”

He didn’t lift his lids when he answered, “Because it’s painless. We don’t let innocents suffer needlessly.”

She didn’t know whether she should consider it a mercy or not. Was it merciful to not even know that death was coming?

“Why didn’t you do it?”

This time Logan did meet her eyes. “I witnessed one of your visions and realized what you were going through. You seemed so vulnerable. At first I thought maybe it would be a relief to end it for you, to end what you were going through.” She saw his Adam’s apple move. “So I handed you the glass of water.”

“The water,” Winter murmured, realizing now how close she’d been to drinking it. “But you spilled it. It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

He shook his head. “When we talked about your drawings, when I saw the things you’d seen in your visions, I couldn’t go through with it. I knew that if you were dead, it would be a loss to all of us, humans and Stealth Guardians alike. I knew you could help us.” He blinked his eyes shut for a short moment. “But there was also a selfish reason why I couldn’t let you drink the poison.”

Winter didn’t say anything, didn’t ask a question, just let him take the time he needed.

“When I first saw you, I imagined what it would have been like had we met in a bar or run into each other in a supermarket. I wondered whether…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. We met the way we did. And I’m glad I defied the council’s order. You deserve to live.”

“You committed treason.”

He shrugged. “Manus can be very dramatic.”

“Dramatic, sure, but I don’t think he lied. By not killing me you’re risking your own life.”

“Maybe they’ll be lenient.”

“You don’t believe that.”

The look on his face confirmed her assumption.

“Well, I guess we have no choice now, do we?” she asked. “Either we prove to your council that my visions can help your race in the battle against the demons, or we both die.”

It didn’t help anybody to lament the fact that Logan had lied to her, had hidden his true purpose. She would deal with all that later. What mattered now was that Logan hadn’t executed his orders. He hadn’t executed her. She was still alive, and she wanted to stay alive.

“Gabriel mentioned a psychiatrist,” Winter said. “I think we should see him sooner rather than later.”

~ ~ ~

One phone call to Gabriel and an hour later the meeting with Dr. Drake was set up. His office was located in the basement of a stately Edwardian mansion not far from Gabriel’s house, which meant it was also within walking distance of the twins’ flat.

During the walk there, Logan and Winter didn’t talk. He didn’t attempt to start a conversation, sensing that Winter had said what she wanted to say for now. He didn’t blame her for her silence. In fact, he was surprised that she hadn’t hurled any heavy objects at him. Maybe she carried her anger toward him inside her like women did often.

After her initial outburst when Manus had still been in the apartment, she hadn’t mentioned their sexual encounter again. He could guess what that meant: she wanted to forget as quickly as possible what they’d done in that motel in Trenton. As much as it pained him to know that she regretted their lovemaking, he knew that by telling her that he’d initially come to kill her, she would reject any further intimacies. Well, he’d have to live with that now. At least Winter wasn’t doing anything rash that would expose her to the demons. He was grateful for that.

She was a smart woman. And he should have been smart enough to realize that earlier. Maybe then he could have saved their relationship. Relationship? He had to shake his head. They had no relationship, none that extended beyond protector and charge. And even that was a tenuous one.

If—no, when—he had convinced the council to let her live, Winter would insist on a different guardian as her protector. But he didn’t want to look that far into the future. He had to concentrate on the task at hand.

Logan looked at the number on the gate. “This is the place.”

Winter stopped next to him, and he pushed the iron gate open to let her enter ahead of him. He didn’t attempt to take her hand, needing no confirmation that his touch wasn’t welcome. “The door at the end of the tradesmen entrance. Gabriel said it’s unlocked.”

He closed the gate behind him and followed Winter down the narrow walkway along the imposing building. The door at the end was unassuming. There was no sign indicating that a psychiatrist practiced at these premises. Apparently vampires didn’t have to or want to advertise their business. Word got around.

Inside, Logan was greeted by a Barbie-doll receptionist with a too-tight top and an aura that identified her as a vampire. No surprise about the latter.

“How may I help you?” she purred in a way that had nothing to do with kittens. Her gaze only briefly drifted to Winter as if she wasn’t important at all, yet clung to Logan like static to packing material.

“Miss Collins and I are here to see Dr. Drake. Gabriel Giles made the appointment for us,” Logan replied.

“Oh yes, the last-minute change to our schedule.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “The doctor is expecting you.” She motioned to a door. “Go right in.”

Logan nodded, then walked to the door. After a perfunctory knock, he opened the door and let Winter enter ahead of him, then followed her into the room and closed the door.

He didn’t really know what he’d expected to find in a vampire psychiatrist’s office. But it wasn’t this. He shot a look at Winter, wondering about her reaction, and saw that she too was taken aback by the rather unorthodox décor.

A black coffin-couch with faded red velvet cushions was the centerpiece of the room. Two armchairs in a plain style and a coffee table that looked suspiciously like a tombstone completed the seating arrangement. Gothic murals graced the walls, making the room look like a crypt. File cabinets with handles shaped like mini-stakes lined one wall.

“Welcome,” Dr. Drake said.

Logan was grateful that the tall, skinny man wasn’t wearing a black cape, but a white doctor’s coat over his business suit.

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice,” Logan said and shook his hand, then stepped aside and motioned to Winter. “This is Winter Collins.”

“The psychic,” Drake said with appreciation, offering his hand to Winter. “It’s a pleasure, Miss Collins.”

Hesitantly, she shook his hand, then pulled back.

“Please, take a seat.”

Drake motioned to the coffin-couch, but Logan walked to the normal-looking armchairs instead, pulled one out a little and made eye contact with Winter. She took the seat, and Logan slunk into the chair next to her. Drake, his eyebrows raised a bit, had no choice but to sit on the god-awful couch.

Drake cleared his throat. “Mr. Giles filled me in to save time. I took the liberty of reviewing some lore about psychics to understand how best I can assist.”

“I appreciate that, Dr. Drake,” Winter said, speaking for the first time.

“But of course. May I just say I’m honored to finally meet a psychic face-to-face. There aren’t many of you to start with, and then of course there was a purge a few centuries ago that diminished your numbers even more…”

“A purge? You mean psychics were exterminated?” Winter’s gaze flitted to Logan. He knew what she must be thinking. That his race was responsible for it.

“It was a war between the witches and the psychics,” Logan explained quickly. “The witches felt threatened by the psychics’ powers.”

Winter stared at him. “Then why is Wesley helping us?”

“The remaining psychics negotiated a peace agreement with the witches. Besides, Wesley is of a different generation. The old wars, the old disagreements, mean nothing to him,” Logan assured her. Then he looked at Drake. “Therefore, there’s really no need to speak of it.”

“Well,” Drake said with a tight smile, “it’s always good to know one’s history.” He turned to look at Winter. “Anyway, my understanding is that you need help in guiding your visions. In controlling them.”

“Yes. They hit me out of nowhere. And I feel powerless when they come.”

“Powerless? It doesn’t have to be that way.” He nodded as if nodding to himself, then continued, “Your visions are a powerful thing. Look at them like you look at emotions. Either you exert control over them, or they will control you. It’s always a matter of what you allow them to do. Take love and hate for example. Two very powerful emotions. Which one do you believe is more powerful?”

The doctor looked at Winter expectantly. When she didn’t say anything, he prompted, “Miss Collins?”

“Oh, you’re asking me.”

He nodded. “Yes. Which emotion is more powerful, love or hate?”

She hesitated. “Hate?”

Smiling, Drake shook his head. “Love. You know why?”

She shook her head, while Logan wondered where the shrink was going with this.

“It’s the strongest emotion, because it comes straight from the heart, from the very essence of your being. You see, you can move mountains with love. There is infinite energy in it. It’s up to you, how to use this energy.” He cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to explain to you is that you have to start to love your visions if you want to have any power over them. If you want to start to control them.”

Winter sighed. “It’s a little hard to love something that causes me so much pain.”

“Well, it will come, with time. In the meantime, there are several other things we can do: guided meditation, an in-depth psychoanalysis, and relaxation exercises.” He pulled a small notebook from his coat pocket. “The guided meditation we can start right away, then you’ll need to repeat it daily. I could fit your first psychoanalysis session in tomorrow night. But you’ll need to come alone. And the relaxation exercises, for that I actually have a Tuesday night group.”

Logan had heard enough. “Dr. Drake, I don’t think you understand the time constraint we’re under. We have twenty-four hours to get a handle on Winter’s visions.”

Drake gave him an undignified look. “And you don’t seem to grasp that the mind of a psychic is a fragile thing.”

“I disagree.” What he’d seen of Winter’s mind wasn’t fragile at all.

“There’s no way she’ll learn to control her visions in twenty-four hours, when it’s taken other psychics years to handle them. This takes practice and careful nurturing.”

Winter shot up from her chair. “Then what are we doing here?”

Logan heard the desperate tone in Winter’s voice and rose. “We’re leaving.” He nodded at the shrink. “Sorry to waste your time and ours.”

He ignored Drake’s protests, and took Winter’s arm to lead her outside.

In the darkness of the alley, he stopped. “I’m sorry. If we had more time, maybe some of the things he mentioned would work…”

“What are we gonna do now?” She looked at him then, fear and desperation colliding in her beautiful eyes.

He hated seeing her like this, without hope for a future. He wouldn’t let her cry, not under his watch.

“I’ll call Wesley, see what he’s got so far. I’m not giving up this quickly.”

He pulled the burner phone Wesley had given him from his jacket pocket and selected the only pre-programmed number. It rang once, twice, three times.

Suddenly, there was a click on the line.

“Logan?”

“Yes.”

“I was about to call you. I’m here with another witch. I think you and Winter need to join us.”

His heart began to beat excitedly. “Tell me where.”

Logan memorized the address Wesley recited, then said, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”