Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(27)
“And your deadline.”
“Our deadline, Sparky,” Gerlach reminded him. “You signed up for this. And don’t tell me that we are a means to your end. That wouldn’t be the best way for this conversation to go. Understand me?”
The angel said nothing, but his smile shone like the sun.
“You’ve put a bunch of test subjects in the ground,” said the agent. “I’ve had to do the detail work to make sure it looks clean and tidy.”
“And bravo for staging your little dramas. It’s great theater.”
“Bite me,” said Gerlach, but he grinned. “I need to know two things right now. First, I need you to assure me—and to make me absolutely believe—that those kids were of no significant use to the program.”
“I told you this before,” said the angel, the first trace of annoyance creeping into his voice. “They were failures, dead ends in terms of cultivation. All but two had hit a hard ceiling in the development of their abilities. The Bell girl and this piece of nothing showed promise at first, but as their talents emerged, they began to look in the wrong direction. They thought they understood what was happening, and each planned to do something about it. That couldn’t be allowed.”
“Uh-huh,” said Gerlach, and he let his skepticism show through in his tone. “There was no other way to handle it?”
“No better way.”
Gerlach took a pack of gum from his pocket, unwrapped two sticks, and began chewing them. He didn’t offer any to the angel.
“What is your other concern?” asked the angel.
“You haven’t filed a progress report.”
“It’s pending.”
“It’s late.”
“Things are becoming critical,” said the angel. “I don’t have time to waste. This meeting, in fact, is inconvenient.”
“Too bad.” Gerlach chewed his gum.
“Yes, it will be too bad if this distraction results in another of our subjects breaking loose.
“Control,” the angel said, “requires focus.”
CHAPTER 27
Beyond Beyond
4:09 P.M.
“Don’t freak out,” said Corinda.
“I think it’s too late for that,” said Dana. “I’m way past being freaked.”
They sat together at the table where Dana and Melissa usually sat. Corinda said she needed to be close to the coffee bar register and where she could see the front register in case she had to go help the part-time girl. There were fresh cups of tea and a plate of scones on the table, but Dana hadn’t touched them. Her pulse was beating as rapidly as machine-gun fire, and she was sweating badly. She also felt light-headed, as if this were all some kind of dream and she wasn’t fully awake.
“How do you know about the murders?” demanded Dana. “How do you know about my dreams? How do you know any of this stuff?”
Corinda picked up her cup, blew across the surface of the hot tea, and took a careful sip. Then she leaned over and took a deep inhalation of the vapors, her eyes closing for a moment. “Ahhh, that’s nice. This is my own special mixture. Lotus flower tea. The lotus is a sacred symbol of eternal life in all the important spiritual cultures, from modern Egyptian Kemeticism to ancient Hinduism and Buddhism. It helps cultivate spiritual enlightenment, transcendence, and devotional love. You can use any part of the lotus, but I love it with the stamens and petals.”
Dana stared at her. “You’re talking about tea and my head’s about to explode.”
Corinda nodded to the cup in front of Dana. “I made you special tea with chamomile to soothe your nerves, and rose petals, which are a wonderful way to help open the heart, calm the mind, relax the body, stabilize your aura.”
“I’m leaving,” said Dana, but Corinda snaked out a hand and caught her arm. The woman was surprisingly fast, and her grip was strong.
“No,” she said. “You need to stay and we need to have a conversation. I know you’ve seen him at night, in your room.”
Dana thought about pulling away, and almost did, but she had to know. She heaved an eloquent sigh and settled back.
“Drink your tea,” said Corinda. There was a deep, strange noise from the speakers, and it took Dana a moment to realize that it wasn’t feedback or distortion but was instead Australian folk music played on a didgeridoo. There was a whole display of those long, painted, hollowed-out wooden drone pipes in the front of the store. Melissa loved them, but Dana thought the music sounded like the kind of songs whales would play at funerals.
She sipped the tea and looked at Corinda. “Tell me how you know what’s going on with me.”
Corinda cocked her head to one side and gave Dana a considering look. “You do know where you are, right? I mean, you know what this place is, and who I am, and what I am? Look around. Tell me how you think I know about these things.”
Dana actually did look around. At the racks of tarot cards and crystal balls and rune stones. At the shelves of books about spiritual channeling, sun signs, roads less traveled, about inner work and self-discovery, books about unlocking the mind and transcending the body. At the talisman jewelry and the icons that stood in ranks on every table. At the posters on the wall for classes in yoga, tai chi, meditation, aligning chakras, light therapy, rebirthing, primal screaming, pranayama, qigong, and more. When she turned back to Corinda, the tall woman wore a knowing smile.