Stories by Claudia

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

Sunday — 11:16 A.M.

“Heather!”

Blane yelled as he ran in the house. Slamming the door, he ran toward where he could hear her voice.

“Heather?”

“We’re in here,” she said.

He jogged toward the den off the kitchen. Heather was sitting in a rocking chair with Mack on her shoulder.

“Hi,” she said. “How are you?”

“Missed you guys,” Blane said. “Can I?”

“Sure.”

Standing, Heather held Mack out to him. Impulsively, Blane hugged them both. Heather laughed. He kissed her cheek then took Mack from her. Mack made a happy sound in recognition of Blane. He kissed Mack’s face then settled him on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’ve been at the hospital with Sam and…. I’m just happy to have you guys.” He smiled at her. “That’s all.”

She hugged him.

“Sorry you missed church,” Blane said.

“Mack and I went with the girls. We just got back,” Heather said. “He was an angel.”

“You fed him before you went?”

“In the car. Like his Mama, he’s happy with a full belly,” Heather laughed. “Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m just home for a shower. I have to help Jake today. Does that work for you?”

“Of course,” Heather said.

“Jake’s has a big mess today. The sites were closed yesterday and the Castle’s falling down and… Oh it doesn’t matter.”

[Read more →]

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FIVE

“Why is the resolution of every B horror movie so anti-climatic?” Raz asked.

He stood between Matthew and Troy watching Alex work. Standing on a chair, Alex played eeny, meeny, miny, moe with the square at the top of the north wall.

“Because it’s a resolution?” Troy replied. “Alex, have you found a…”

Alex hit the last square and there was a soft click. A door sized one-inch depression appeared in the wall. Alex cursed.

“Our exit is covered…” She started.

Troy punctured the depression with the knife from his mini-tool. The small blade stuck in the dry wall. Pulling a nine inch bowie knife from its sleeve on his leg, Matthew held the larger knife up to Troy.

“Now, this is a knife.” Matthew gave his best Crocodile Dundee.

“Don’t start dissing my mini-tool or…”

“OLIVAS. MAC CLENAGHAN.” Alex jumped down from her chair. “Knock it off.”

Mumbling, ‘He started it,’ the men cut the dry wall around the door. Raz grabbed pieces and threw them off to the side. They revealed a metal sliding door.

“Hutchins? Tell the Jakker we’ll be five minutes,” Alex said.

Vince relayed the message to Alex’s Sergeant then disconnected her pocket computer.

“Gas masks. Check to make sure your oxygen is working. Check the person next to you.”

The men put on their gas masks then checked each other.

“Special Forces first,” Alex commanded. “Prisoner in the middle. Agent Rasmussen and Captain Hutchins and I will take the back.”

Sliding open the metal door, Troy revealed another concrete door. He groaned. Alex swatted him out of the way. There was a combination lock on the door. She opened the padlock then stepped aside. Matthew and Troy pulled open the door.

“Everyone. Guns out. We do not know what we’ll encounter. Let’s make certain we are on guard.” Seeing Jessie ahead, she said, “Ok. Go.”

Alex put on her mask when Matthew and Troy ran down the tunnel. Raz checked her oxygen. Reaching a turn, Troy ran ahead. Matthew signaled for the Weasel and his guards to enter the tunnel. Alex watched their backs as they moved down the tunnel. Raz nudged Alex into the tunnel.

They heard the sharp report of machine gunfire.

“Go,” Alex yelled.

Raz and Vince ran down the tunnel. Using all her strength, Alex yanked the cement door closed then reset the lock. Running down the tunnel, she found Raz waiting for her. They ran together down the rest of the tunnel.

“They were shooting so Zack would notice them.” Raz shouted through the mask. “They are going up on wires.”

“Can you make a wire?” Alex asked.

“No other option,” Raz said.

Alex shook her head at his usual response to his back pain. She opened her mouth to ask again about his option to have surgery then realized it was pointless. He was going to do what he was going to do.

They slowed at the entrance. Troy and Matthew had hacked enough space to step around the enormous Cottonwood tree trunk that grew over the tunnel’s entrance. On fire, the tree dropped flame and ember in the opening. Raz stepped a leg through the opening. Pressing his chest against the smoldering tree trunk, he shifted to pull his other leg through.

His back seized. With Alex pushing on one side, and Vince pulling on the other, they managed to get him through opening.

When Alex stepped, her left hip cramped. Vince pulled her through the opening. They stood in a small clearing surrounded by burning timber. She pointed to the wire. Vince clipped himself to the wire and went up with Raz.

Her forgotten ear bud squealed then began working.

“Heya Alex,” Zack said. “I’ve got everyone. You gonna hike out?”

Alex waved up to him. She saw movement in the passenger compartment and Troy slid down with a wire. Hooking her to the wire, he wrapped himself around her.

“To what do I owe this pleasure,” Alex yelled through her mask.

“Lost a bet,” he laughed. “Your hip’s off. I didn’t think you could make the wire.”

She smiled her thanks. At the passenger compartment, the men pulled Alex and Troy into the compartment. They piled their gear and masks into a cargo container then took their seats.

“Where to?” Zack asked through the intercom.

“Super Max,” Alex replied. “We’re taking this one home.”

“WAIT!” The Weasel screamed.

Troy pulled the helicopter door closed and the men clicked into their seats. Following Alex’s lead, they ignored the Weasel protests. The helicopter flew across Southern Colorado then slowed as they approached the United States Penitentiary Administration Maximum Facility.

“Last chance,” Alex said. “Talk now or forget it.”

The Weasel motioned her to sit next to him on the helicopter. She responded by forcing him to sit next to her. Untaped and undocumented, for the remainder of the trip, the Weasel told Alex everything he knew about the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team. When the helicopter landed, the Weasel’s mouth closed. Without saying another word, he and his guards left the helicopter.

“What was that?” Raz asked.

Alex shook her head. Buckling into her seat, she stared out the window at the dark clouds of the snowstorm.

What was that indeed?

FFFFF

Two hours later
Tuesday Night
March 25 – 7:30 P.M. MDT
Military Intelligence, Buckley Air Force Base

Alex waited until the last of the men checked through medical before returning to her office. She sent her Sergeant home, shut off the phones then began filing out the stack of paperwork on her desk. Every assignment came with at least one stack of papers. This year, she and the men had completed one stupid assignment after another until the paperwork towered on Alex’s desk. Flipping on her coffee maker, she settled in for a long night.

The coffee maker had finished its last burble when a coffee mug entered her line of site. She looked up to see her boss, Colonel Howard Gordon. He was wearing a dark cap and his overcoat as if he stopped by on his way home.

“I was surprised you didn’t look up when I came in,” he said. “Fascinating paper work?”

“Oh…” She sighed. “I fill in the boxes while I think about something else. I was miles away.”

He sat down across from her.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

“Which part?”

He laughed.

“You might have missed the reports, but there was an incident while attempting to interview the Weasel.” Alex shrugged. “I know you’re busy.”

“Yes, Major. I missed entirely the destruction of a national wilderness area.”

“I guess that’s not funny,” she said. Holding up a stack of pages, she added, “But it does provide for some excellent paperwork opportunities!”

“You have a Sergeant to do your paperwork,” he said. “You have a second in command. Hell, you have an intelligence officer in training who has nothing to do.”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot about him,” Alex said. “Is he still locked away at Fort Carson?”

“He was released by Captain Mac Clenaghan. While you were with Agent Rasmussen at the hospital, Captain Mac Clenaghan drove to Fort Carson for Sergeant Flagg. They are on their way to Denver right now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex said. She took a long drink of her coffee. “See, my second in command can’t do the paperwork. He’s busy with Flagg.”

“Major Drayson.”

“Yes sir,” Alex said.

“How did it go with your team?”

“What team?” Alex asked. “They fought with each other. They thought I was crazy. I had to yell at them to knock it off more than once. They were like competent tornados each working toward their own end. I… “

She shook her head.

“I suck,” she said. “I can’t do this ‘command a team’ thing.”

“Every leader feels that way sometimes,” Colonel Gordon said. “You need to get your feet under you.”

“I was wondering, sir, if I might join a team?”

Colonel Gordon’s scowled. This was not the first time he had heard this request.

“I’d happily take a lower rank and…”

He opened his mouth to say something then changed his mind. Shaking his head, he looked away from her.

“There are two wars going on, sir,” she said. “I’m an okay intelligence officer. And as you know, there’s more than a hundred people held hostage in the world at any given time. I could join the team that replaced us and…”

“Alexandra Hargreaves!”

“Sir?”

She scanned his face. His bushy eyebrows betrayed his worry over his obvious anger. She smiled as if he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. He sighed.

“Maybe I could go back to drawing maps?” She gave him a big smile.

“Alex.” Pulling his cap off, he ran a hand through is bushy gray hair. “Every leader goes through exactly what you’re feeling. Hell, I’ve had many sleepless nights over this very same issue. The key is to find what works for you.”

“Charlie was so…”

“Charles O’Brien is dead, Alex,” Colonel Gordon said. “He was an exceptional man, a natural leader, and my friend. But he is gone. You have to learn to carry on without him.”

Nodding, Alex pursed her lips to keep from displaying her desperate grief at the words: ‘Charles O’Brien is dead.’

“Listen,” Colonel Gordon said. “I’m sorry. I see so much potential in you and wish you could see it yourself. You collected these men from assignments around the world. They came to here to work with you. Each man is the best soldier in his class. Period. And they aren’t easy. You didn’t pick them because they were easy. You picked them because they were your friends. And they left great assignments to work here with you.”

“But sir…”

“They’re pains in the ass. Every single one of them. Did you hear the feed from the Jakker while he waited for you? He disobeyed a direct order to return to base. A big fat ‘fuck you’ from the Jakker.”

“Are their repercussions to his defiance?”

“Christ, Alex. That’s my point. Everything the Jakker does is defiant.”

Alex shrugged.

“It might help if you filled the other slots in your team with neutral players,” Colonel Gordon said. “You still need…”

“No Marines,” she said. “I’ve never had good luck with Marines, sir.”

“You need at least one more Navy and two Marines. That’s not to mention your glaring lack of medics.”

“See, I suck as a leader.”

Alex tried her ‘please-sir-can-I-stop-doing-the-job-I-suck-at’ smile. Colonel Gordon glared in response. Her smile faded.

“The Fey Special Forces Team’s first year was not easy, you know.”

“But we had…”

“Charlie,” they said together.

“Yes,” he said. He softened. “Listen, I’ve never known anyone who has continued working after what you have been through. Most people retire.”

“I could retire,” she said. “Ben said he’s retiring this year. I could…”

“You know you cannot retire,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I could draw maps.”

Her eyes lit up with glee at the idea of retreating into the solitary joy of cartography.

“The Admiral would like you to return to extracting hostages. You’re supposed to be…”

“Creating a team that will extract hostages around the world,” Alex finished his sentence. “Problem is? I suck.”

“Alexandra.”

“Ok, you know what I’m really good at?” She pointed to the paperwork on her desk. “Paperwork is my specialty.”

Colonel Gordon raised his hands in submission to her sarcasm.

“What do you need to make this work?” he asked. “I’m authorized to give you any resource, training…”

“I need Joseph Walter,” she said. “He would know how to pull this team together. You’re right. We need to a few neutral members. He’d know how to choose the right people.”

While Colonel Gordon nodded his head, he eyes spoke his remorse.

“But?” she asked.

“It’s complicated. Fort Carson had dibs on him for their training staff. He can’t come here and be there. You know that.”

Alex nodded. She did know that. She just hoped for the help she needed. Sometimes she felt as if she was set up to fail. She sighed at her no-win situation.

“Don’t give up, Alex,” he said. “That’s really what I came in here to say. Everyone struggles, especially their first year. Just don’t give up.”

Picking up his cap, he stood to leave. He stopped in front of a photograph of the Fey Special Forces Team goofing for the camera. The photo was taken after they had rescued their first hostages – five journalists from the jungles of Central America. Colonel Gordon leaned closer to look at their faces. They seemed so young and happy. He stepped back from the photo.

“What did the Weasel have to say?”

“Nothing. Everything. Who knows?” Alex replied. “There are so many little itsy bitsy pieces to this puzzle. Somehow they fit together, but how? I have no idea how to connect the dots.”

“Perses was there? I always thought he was a myth or legend.”

“Perses accepted a contract to assess the viability of a hit on the Fey and the Weasel. He led us to Shelter 17. I probably could have found it but not in time. Plus he had the key.”

“Odd behavior for an assassin.”

“He owes me a favor or six. And, yes sir, he’s odd.”

“Well good night,” Colonel Gordon said. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Alex, go home. You’ve done enough today,” he said. “Let Sergeant Flagg become an expert in paperwork.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

He raised a hand in ‘good-bye’ then walked out of her office. Looking from stack to stack, she finished her mug of coffee then poured another. She wandered to the place where Colonel Gordon stood. Her finger touched each face.

“Go home, Alex,” Jesse said appearing beside her. “There are no answers here.”

Nodding to Jesse, Alex dressed in her winter gear. Limping on her injured hip, she pulled her office door closed.

“Walk you to your car?” Jesse asked.

She nodded.

“Did I ever tell…?”

FFFFFF

Tuesday night
March 25 — 9:40 P.M. MDT.
Fillmore Auditorium
Denver, CO

John and Max were watching the roadies finish setting up for DeVotchka.

“Remind me. Why are we here?” John yelled to Max over the background music.

Max raised his eyebrows. He nodded his head toward the Slavic Sisters. The women trapeze artists were testing their aerial silk cloth.

“Yes, very interesting,” John nodded. “But…”

John felt a hand on his shoulder. He grimaced to Max then turned to see who touched him.

“Hi John,” the woman said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

John tried to remember the woman’s name. She worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital or at least he thought she worked at the hospital. She spent so much time pushing her inflated chest and lips in John’s direction that conversation was nearly impossible. Too polite to actually dismiss her, he avoided her as much as possible.

“I heard your wife is out of town.” Her tiny hand caressed his arm. “When I saw you here, I figured you were looking for some company.”

John stepped away from the woman. She bat her long eyelashes at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max laughing at him.

“Listen,” John started but his words were lost over the trumpet playing announcing the start of the concert. His attention jerked to the stage. Maybe if he ignored this woman…

While the band played their first song, the Slavic Sisters vibrated the aerial silk to the music. The silk tapestry billowed down from the stage hitting John’s face. He stepped back to stay out of the way. The trapeze artist winked at John then flipped the fabric from his face.

Smiling her crooked smile, Alex stood in its place.

In a breath, she was in his arms. She giggled when he lifted her from the ground. She wrapped her legs around his middle, their lips fused in passionate consumption.

When John pulled back to look at her, DeVotchka’s lead singer, Nick, yelled, “Drayson, get a room!” The crowd cheered in agreement.

With a nod to Max, John carried his laughing Alex through the crowded venue to Colfax Boulevard. He set her down for a moment then instantly regretted the decision.

“The cab’s waiting for us,” Alex started.

He lifted her back into his arms and carried her to the cab. Nestled in the back of the cab, they took the short ride to their new home. John scooped her off the sidewalk and carried her into the house. They kissed and stroked their way up the stairs until, unable to wait any longer, they made fast love on the third floor landing.

“Wanna try out the bath?” Alex asked.

“Very much so. But the water’s not hooked up to it yet.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Shower?”

“Bed?”

“You’re so traditional,” he said.

Opening the door to their bedroom, they were hit with a blast of cold air.

“NO HEAT?!?”

Alex ran to jump under the covers.

“You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

“Lemme guess, long story?”

“I know how to warm you.”

Slipping under the covers, he did just that.

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

How to look like you’re a member of the Fey Team

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY
Saturday morning — 1:20 A.M.

Sandy opened the door to her condo apartment and took a deep breath. She’d always loved the smell of her very own home. Even after being closed up for so many weeks, her home still smelled safe. That’s how she had felt first time she’d stepped into the condo – safe and at peace. She sighed. She needed safety and peace this morning.

Tomorrow, her Godfather’s daughter would move into the condo for the summer. Seth hadn’t asked. Instead, his daughter Elizabethe (not Lizzie like she used to be called) had telephoned and begged her for a room in her condo. Now eighteen years old, Seth’s second daughter from his second marriage wanted to see if she could forge a relationship with her father the summer before she started college. Sandy had agreed to let her stay for three hundred dollars a month. Of course, Sandy had set the terms when she thought she had access to Aden’s money to help cover their expenses.

Luckily she liked to work. But not today. At the hospital last night, she’d called all her scheduled clients to cancel their appointments. Today, she would sleep until two, maybe three.

Sandy checked the guest bedroom where Lizzie, no Elizabethe, would stay. She put fresh sheets on the bed and made sure all of the kids’ stuff was out of the closets and cabinets.

Delphie had been to the condo when Sandy was in the hospital after getting shot by her father. Delphie had packed up Sandy’s clothing, cleared out the refrigerator, and got the flat ready for Sandy’s stay at the Castle. She’d even arranged for Rosa and her team to clean the condo top to bottom. Looking around her home, Sandy saw tokens of Delphie’s usual love and care.

Delphie. Beloved Delphie.

[Read more →]

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FOUR

Raz threw himself on top of Alex. They fell backwards in her chair just before a particularly violent explosion. The lights in the room flickered, sparked then went out. The room shook. Every chair fell over. The mortar made a tinkling sound as it fell onto the concrete floor. A portion of the ceiling tiles crashed onto the table. The hot air filled with cement dust and mortar.

And somehow, the room remained intact.

“Was that for me?” the Weasel yelled over the explosions. He belly crawled until his face right next to Alex’s. “They want me dead.”

“Yes,” she said.

“I thought… I thought the explosions were for you or these guys or the weirdo the guards didn’t know or…”

“OK,” Vince yelled. “That’s probably it.”

“I…” The Weasel shook his head back and forth.

“Call!” Alex yelled.

“Hutchins.”

“Olivas.”

“Mac Clenaghan.”

“Rasmussen.”

“Drayson,” Alex finished. “Guards.”

“Here.”

“Your prisoner is over here.”

[Read more →]

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

Friday evening — 6:15 P.M.

Delphie almost collapsed with relief when Johansen released her. In the last few hours, he had been brutal with her. She wasn’t sure if the old man was getting careless or simply didn’t care if he hurt her. At one point, she wondered if he wanted to destroy her psychic capacity. Her mind and body felt battered and bruised.

Jacob’s vortex, the vortex she’d taught him to make just two month’s ago, brought further relief. She was safe! She was finally safe! Like standing behind an opaque crystal, she could only make out the vague, blurry images of Jacob and Johansen fighting.

Then BAM! The explosion in the Chapel rocked the very foundation of the Castle. Her heart pounded with fear. The Chapel had been her spiritual home since Celia bought the Castle for her. Even though Celia assured her that Katy was not inside, Delphie couldn’t calm her racing heart.  Something awful was going to happen. She just knew it.

Watching through the opaque vortex, she made out Johansen and Jacob fighting. She’d never expected Johansen to be so out of control. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what he wanted.

“That’s because you refused to believe he wants to kill every Marlowe,” Celia said. “You have to believe there’s some good inside him.”

Delphie nodded. She had to believe there was some good inside him. After all, he’d been her protector, the only father she’d had from the time she was six years old until Celia saved her when she was sixteen. In some ways, she loved him. If he was pure evil, what did that make her? Was she evil of her connection to him?

Delphie saw the short blurry person moving carrying the enormous stick move toward Johansen.

“That’s Jill,” Celia said. “You must have gotten through to Jill.”

“Not me,” Delphie said. “Must have been Katy.”

They watched Johansen fall. The blurry figure bent over Johansen and the vortex collapsed.

At that moment she felt a tearing, ripping sensation in her mind, her eyes filled with the most spectacular light.  The beautiful orange, yellow and white light consumed all thought and feeling.

She heard herself scream. The light blocked out the figure of Celia. She vaguely heard Celia calling for her. She felt her body fall to the floor.

Surrounded in the gorgeous light, Delphie felt no pain, no loss, only joy. She was enraptured. Life slowed to a stand still and the light grew from within her and around her.

She felt soft hands on her head.  And Jill entered the light.

She smiled at Jill. She even said hello. But Jill couldn’t hear her. Jill looked worried, frightened even. Delphie tried to tell Jill not to be afraid of the light.

“Please don’t leave.”

Jacob. She heard his voice. She’d said those words to him when he was inside his mother. Don’t leave. She’d repeated them all of his life and now he was saying them back to her.

Couldn’t he see the light? Why wasn’t he with her inside the light?

Jacob was her child. The one she loved the most. The child she’d saved from certain death. Even Celia, who loved him completely, said he was really her child, her son, her prodigy.

Why couldn’t he see the light?

From her position in the light, she watched Johansen’s soul leave his body. Unnoticed and unloved, he simply moved on. No one would miss him. No one would even know he’d lived. There were no bee hives to tell that he’d died. No garden that would go to seed. No tears, no grief, no loss. He was simply there one moment — alive and evil — and gone the very next moment. Like dust, his soul dissipated on the wind.

Filled by the joyous light, she waved to him. Good-bye old man. May your next life be filled with joy.

Where was Celia? Why couldn’t she see Celia? She called for her best friend by her earth name – Celia! She called for her by her soul name – Naomi. Come join me in the light.

She felt a desperate longing for Celia.

And for Sam. Where was Sam? Sam would love this light. Sam would tell her all the colors and laugh at her confusion. Where was Sam?

And Katy? Where was the child she thanked the Goddess she lived long enough to meet? The baby she’d tricked Jacob into creating. Katy would never exist if not for her intervention. Where was her Katherine?

Alone.

She was desperately and completely alone.

Even the beautiful joyous light couldn’t take away the horrible knowledge that she was completely and totally alone.

Where were her dogs? She longed for the touch of Scooter’s fuzzy ears or to hear Sarah big bark or to feel Buster’s wet nose. They should be here, right here, with her.

In that moment, longing for the touch of the dogs, Delphie realized that she was dead. She’d died on the floor of the Castle. Delphie was overcome with grief.

She had loved life more than anyone else she’d ever met.

And she was dead.

There would be no one to pray for her transition. She’d have to make it on her own.

Alone.

Forever.

Until life or good will or some beautiful Goddess or powerful God would allow her to know Celia, Sam, Jill, Katy, Jacob, Valerie and Mike again. She keened with grief for the loss of her own precious life.

A figure appeared on the horizon.

Who are you?

Are you an angel?

Can I stay to say one last good-bye?

Please.

I haven’t seen Valerie or Mike. And my dogs will miss me. And I need to visit my bees. They will disperse if I don’t go and say good-bye.  And what about my gardens? They haven’t been turned for the early spring. The grass will overtake them and in a few months time they will disappear.

Please. May I spend one day or one month or maybe a year in my Castle?

Don’t make me leave the Castle and all the people I love.

Please don’t make me leave.

The angel laughed. The laughter was like crystal bells on some far away church. The sound shattered the light like loud sound waves through glass. The world came into view.

“Sleep now,” the angel said. “You are safe.”

And Delphie slept.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:55 P.M.

Jill shook her head.

“I can’t… She’s having a stroke. I can’t stop it.”

Jacob wrapped himself around Delphie’s body and whispered in her ear:

“Please don’t leave.”

Jill did the only thing she could think of doing. She put Delphie’s head in her lap and placed her hands around Delphie’s ears. Maybe she could keep the damage from getting too severe. She blew light and love into broken and bleeding arteries. Jill didn’t have the heart to give up.

She couldn’t give up.

She wouldn’t give up.

Her entire focus was on Delphie’s brain and the blood seeping from her arteries. Out of a corner of her eye, she saw Jacob shift, then felt hands on her shoulders. Her brother Steve and sister Megan put a hand on each of her shoulders. With their touch, they pumped their meager healing energy into Jill.

Her capacity rose. And still it was not enough to save Delphie. This precious woman was beginning to fade.

Jill felt the jolt of her sister Candy touching Megan’s shoulder and Mike joining Steve. The siblings funneled all of their capacities into Jill.

And it still wasn’t enough.

“Are you ready, Jilly?” Jill heard.

She nodded. Her mother, Anjelika grabbed Delphie’s feet. Mike and Candy touched her mother’s shoulders. The family made a healing circle around Delphie’s prone body.

The power surge was tremendous. Jill could almost smell her senses burn like bread left too long in the toaster. Her ears roared with the sound of Delphie’s blood and the power pouring through her body. Jill held on tight.

She felt the tide shift. The blood began to seep backward. The torn artery began to heal.

“We must stop,” Anjelika yelled. “The police are on their way.”

Two at a time, her siblings let go. Mike and Candy first. Megan and Steve next.

“1-2-3,” Anjelika yelled.

Anjelika and Jill let go at the same time. They rose to standing. Anjelika took Mike and Candy’s hands. Jill took Steve and Megan’s hands. Steve took Mike’s hand and Megan completed the circle by taking Candy’s hand.

“Take in this healing with love, for the best use of your soul and body,” they said in unison.

Crying, Valerie took Jill’s place at Delphie’s head. Valerie caressed Delphie’s head and hair. She kissed Delphie’s cheek and pressed her own face to the cool skin.

“She’s breathing,” Valerie said through her tears. “Oh God, she’s breathing.”

“What are we going to do with…?” Jacob said over Johansen’s body.

“Children,” Anjelika said.

Jill moved to Johansen’s body. Sitting down, she placed her hands on his head. The wound, created by the hockey stick, diminished leaving only small gash where he’d hit the floor. His shoulder healed to full use.

“Go,” Anjelika said.

Steve and Candy touched Johansen’s body. Mike and Megan followed.

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked Jill.

“We’re releasing the negative effects of the healing into his body,” Jill said. “For every positive energy, like healing, there is a negative energy, like illness. If we dabble in one, we get the other. Rather than take it into our own bodies, we are releasing it into his.”

“Your turn, Jill,” Anjelika said.

Jill put her hands on Johansen’s abdomen.

“You will tell them that this man entered your home and took Delphie hostage,” Anjelika said to Jacob. “You believe he’s a friend or old friend of Delphie’s but you don’t know. You confronted him. He fought with you, breaking everything, then blew up the Chapel. Startled by his own explosion, he collapsed and hit his head. When he did, Delphie screamed that her head hurt and fainted. He might have done something to her, but you’re not sure.”

“That’s it?” Jacob asked.

He bent down to help Jill to standing. He wrapped her in his arms.

“Yes,” Anjelika said. “Delphie will need a hospital and surgery.”

“And Val?” Mike asked.

“She should be all right, but you need to do what makes sense to you.”

“I’d rather stay with Delphie,” Valerie said.

“Get cleaned up,” Anjelika ordered. “Go now.”

Mike helped Valerie to her feet. They ran toward the door and up the stairs to Jacob’s bachelor studio. Not two minutes later, the Denver police ran into through the Castle through the side entrance. The paramedics arrived moments later. After stabilizing Delphie in the living room, she was off to St. Joseph’s with Valerie at her side.

The Police department’s noise and confusion brought Sandy and the kids from the tunnels. Jill and Sandy took Noelle, Nash, Paddie and Katy upstairs to the loft. Jill’s family arrived moments later. Anjelika and Sandy set to work on a pot of chili and corn scones. Dinner was almost ready when Valerie called from the hospital.

Mike had asked their friend Dr. John Drayson to act as their liaison. Dr. Drayson said the doctors had diagnosed Delphie’s aneurism. The aneurism was significant and on the verge of bursting. They must operate immediately or Delphie would surely die. As it was, her chances of surviving the surviving were limited. Dr. Drayson agreed to attend the surgery to keep them apprised on what happened.

When Anjelika agreed to stay with the children, the rest of the group left for a long night at the hospital. Sam arrived just after they descended on the OR waiting room.

Unaware of all that had gone on that day, Sam said: “I told her to take care of her blood pressure”  then broke down. Jacob and Valerie held their father until Sam was able to regain some control. Blane arrived moments later with warm turkey sandwiches, fresh chocolate chip cookies, and coffee. The group ate and waited.

No one dared mentioning the obvious. Delphie had always waited in these rooms for them. Delphie was there for every operation, broken bone, or illness. With her prayers, spells and incantations, Delphie was their cornerstone of hope for every hospital visit. With her crazy bottle red hair tied up in a knot, Delphie would say, ‘No need to fret. The Goddess loves us.’

Now Delphie’s life hung in the balance.

Together, Jacob, Jill, Sam, Valerie, Mike, Blane, and Sandy waited through the night for news from the surgery suite.

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THREE

Raz hesitated. Alex reassured him by putting her hand on his elbow. He looked into her face then nodded. They followed the man toward the forest.

“That’s Perses.”

The apparition of Alex’s best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu appeared beside her. Alex nodded her head slightly. As usual, Jesse continued in Spanish:

“The Weasel is completely freaked out, Alex.”

Alex glanced in his direction.

“Something weird is going on, but I can’t tell what. Ever since those Homeland agents arrived, he’s become more and more anxious. Perses has been with him the whole time. I think he’s guarding the Weasel. Funny thing for a no fingerprint, no name assassin to do.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. Used to speaking out loud with Jesse, Alex could only communicate with facial gestures. She signed ‘the guys’ in American Sign Language.

“The guys are following you in the forest,” Jesse said. “They’re tracking the GPS signal in your hip. In this forest, they could be six feet away and you wouldn’t see them. But I can.”

Alex smiled at his ‘so-there’ laugh. Jesse had been her best-friend since the first week of basic training. Their lives intertwined, they had been each other’s constant companion through Bosnia, Special Forces training, and the Fey Special Forces Team. In the doorway to the vault in Paris, he died with his head on her lap. His reappearance in her life was a gift. Especially now.

[Read more →]

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

Friday evening — 5:45 P.M.

Jacob stepped through the doorway and listened. He could hear Valerie screaming in the kitchen. Valerie’s pain and terror threatened to overwhelm his little brother self. He had to stay focused. He pushed away everything other than his singular focus – Johansen.

Cloaking his mind, he slipped off his boots and jacket. He knew he had only a few minutes before Johansen would be on him. He had to be ready for whatever came in his direction.

Then, as if placed there by some friendly god, he saw Mike’s hockey gear. With his eyes on Johansen, he picked up Mike’s hockey stick. He crawled forward to the bag. When Valerie screamed again, he opened the front pouch of Mike’s bag. He breathed a sigh of relief. Three pucks. With a silent prayer of thanks for Mike’s compulsive nature, he slipped a puck into each of the back pockets of his jeans.

Johansen sniffed.

“SHOW YOURSELF!”

[Read more →]

CHAPTER TWO

Two months later
Monday early-morning
March 24 – 4:30 A.M. MDT
Denver, Colorado

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Alex lifted her head from the pillow to kiss her husband, John. Like most mornings, they started the day in each other’s embrace.

“What’s weird?” she asked.

“How everything can be the same.” His British accented words were punctuated with quick thrusts of his hips. “And still so different.”

She bit his ear. Even after thirteen years of marriage, she never understood why he started conversations in the middle of sex. He laughed at her ear nip reprimand.

“You mean the new bedroom? New house? New clothing? New…”

“Yes,” he said.

They moved into their new bedroom last night. She rolled on top of him.

“You mean everything,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. He kissed her lips. “Yet some things are deliciously the same.”

“Delicious?”

Her rhythmic movements caught his full attention. Sitting up to look at him, their eyes locked. His hands held her hips. They rose in intensity. She was very close when he said:

“I don’t want you to go today.”

She ignored him.

[Read more →]

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

Friday morning — 5:25 A.M.

Dressed in her pajamas, Jill ran down the stairs from the loft. Her bare feet made a tight drumbeat as she pounded past the landing. Slipping around the corner, she almost ran over Honey. Honey had been wheeling at top speed toward the stairs. Jill caught Honey’s chair before they fell over.

“The jury returned!” the women said together.

“Ann just…” Jill started at the same time Honey said, “I got…”

They both gave a nervous laugh.

“You first,” Jill said.

“The jury insisted on staying all night.” Honey’s voice was fast and excited. “The victim’s advocate said they reviewed every bit of evidence, everything. She got the call this morning. The jury has reached a decision. That’s what she said. ‘The jury has reached a decision.’ What did Ann say?”

“Pretty much the same thing. Ann said she was sure they would stay the weekend. After all the befuddling counter testimony and everything else, she and the DA thought the jury was confused and would want the weekend. But…”

“The victim’s advocate said this was good news.”

“Ann said a quick verdict is usually a guilty verdict.”

The women beamed at each other.

“We made it!” Jill exclaimed.

[Read more →]

Today is the first day of my novel, Learning to Stand. Learning to Stand is the second book in the Alex the Fey thriller series.  The novel will appear one chapter at a time for the rest of the year. Learning to Stand is available in paperback at Amazon books or through our store.

Enjoy!

Title Quote

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life?
How do you go on, when in your heart,
you begin to understand there is no going back?
There are some things time cannot mend.
Some hurts, that go too deep, have taken hold.”

–Frodo Baggins in Return of the King;
Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens inspired by J.R. Tolkien

CHAPTER ONE

January 31 – 3:15 A.M. CET
Paris, France

“Shall I get a car, ma’am?” the doorman asked in French. He held the door for her to walk through. “Maybe an umbrella?”

“Non,” she replied. “Merci”

She stepped into the driving rain from the warm CIA hotel lobby. Wanting the rain, needing the river, she was drawn into the wild, dark morning.

She and Homeland Security Agent Arthur ‘Raz’ Rasmussen were in Paris to clear out the Fey Special Forces Team vault. Two and a half years ago, the blood and lives of eleven troops were spilled onto the floor, boxes and crates of that storage vault.

Ten friends. Ten beloved teammates gave their lives. She was the eleventh ‘troop.’ Turning onto the wide boulevard, Rue des Saints Pères, she snorted at the word ‘troop.’

She would have died.

She should have died.

But her friend, mentor, and, as she found out a few months ago, biological father, Ben received a tip that her team had been assassinated. Ben and his assistant, Raz, found her in the vault doorway with her best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu’s head on her lap. Raz carried her from the vault moments before she bled to death.

Two and a half years ago.

[Read more →]