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Lesion nodded in full agreement, his alchemistic brain snatching up the Bat Viagra to ponder later. “I’m handling the psychotic effects immediately. But you should know,” Lesion said, his pulse leaping at the memory. “The bats came.”
Bishop’s brows pulled together. “And?”
“Theyswarmed,ten feet above them. An army of beautiful, dreadful fury. But they didn’t attack. Not even when he bit her, and she screamed.”
He appreciated the look of awe that entered Eveque’s gaze as he seemed to visualize it in his mind. His eyes cleared and leveled on him. “What’s your plan?”
“Run a battery of tests and fully understand the impact of the overdose. Then create the perfect antidote or counter-serum to neutralize the effects of the overdose while retaining the benefits.”
“How long will this take?”
Lesion was sure about that part at least. “I can manage a formula within a few days.” He remembered his woman. “Maybe you can get your Belle Eveque here to deal with Felix?” It was the one arena Lesion wasn’t comfortable with. Now that he had Tully, his aversion to women had tripled.
“Mon fucking Dieu,” he muttered, pacing on the stairwell landing. “I’ll call her. After I see Nitro.” He leveled a harsh gaze on Lesion, and he braced for whatever brought it. “Thank you. You’ve saved our asses many times. Don’t think I’ll ever forget that and don’t think for a second that I hold any of this against you.” He grabbed his shoulder and gripped it hard. “There’s no quacky cajun doctor anywhere on this planet that I trust more than you, Alchemy. Besides Patches,” he remembered with a light toss of his head before getting severe again. “Take care of our brother.”
****
Seer excused himself to the bathroom at Spook’s place, needing to clear Bishop out of his system before locking hands with his father and Maggie. He splashed water on his face for a full minute, the blood visions trying to return. Ever since it was decided they would go find the boy and this woman, he’d been seeing that vision he’d had before, with the death and blood. Was he seeing something thatwouldhappen or something thatcouldhappen? If itwouldhappen, there was nothing he could do to stop it. If itcouldhappen, he could prevent it.
The fact that he wasn’t getting any direction made him surer than ever that the vision fell underwouldhappen. And in that case, there was no point in mentioning it. But there was a huge chance it would be seen by his father and Maggie when they touched. He’d decided if they saw, they were supposed to see and leave the things that weren’t for him, to God.
“I’m ready,” Seer said. He’d requested they do this without Cherie just in case Lazarus was somehow using her. Bad enough he had some kind of influence with him being attached to her, he didn’t want to give him a bigger doorway.
He eyed his father now standing, looking like he’d prepared for war with a legion of demons. Maybe that’s what they’d find when they joined hands.
Without looking, Maggie’s gifts were billowing above her, nearly filling the entire room. If they didn’t get anywhere, he’d request Beth to join hands with them. He was beginning to hear what his father was meaning about her gifts affecting Maggie’s. But how exactly, was the concern. It was like disarming a spiritual bomb. They all had different powers wrapped in the same colored wires. Which ones should be crossed? Which ones should never touch? What was the consequences of either or?
If Spook or Eveque knew the risks, they wouldn’t be standing there. It was only his faith in God and their trust in him that had him stand before them and reach both his hands out, one to his father and one to Maggie. “It’s time.” He then reminded them. “We’re just seeing what we can see between the three of us then we’ll go from there.”
They nodded and his father looked at his hand with trepidation, as though he feared the same things he did. Maggie slowly reached for both of them, her eyes closed with shallow breaths.
She was already seeing, he realized.
She snatched their hands as if a force repelled her and she had to break through to reach them. The instant the triad formed, Seer’s wind blasted out as if a bolt of lightening struck all of them. Their energies surged and fought for a path, slamming into each other and bouncing off. Their grunts and gasps told of the brutal boxing match within their blood and bones as his plea to God blasted from his tight lips, “Direct us!”
A maelstrom of images, visions, and intangible sensations cut through his spirit like claws. It yanked him right then left, before plunging him down, down through a river of scenes. Dark forests, moonlit rituals, symbols written in blood with snapshots of humanity—crying children, men and women bound.
“I see them!”
Seer had yelled the words in unison with his father and Maggie. He turned his inner eyes toward Maggie and saw she’d tethered them to her. She released their hands in this vision and knelt next to the boy and the woman they searched for while Seer and his father held on for dear life, the power vortex fighting to rip their spirits from their bodies.
His grip on his father’s hand began to slip.
Hurry Maggie, hurry.
The evil felt like shards of glass ripping at his face and lips, gouging his eyes. It wanted to devour him. A roar tore from his mouth as he resisted and his father mirrored it, the sound filling him with terror. Something held him down and it brought a rage. Seer managed to turn his head, searching for his father in the madness. “Mon Pier!” he roared. “Mon Pier!”
Seer’s body jolted twice, then a third time.
Weightless now, he turned and called, “Maggie.”
She turned from where she drew quickly on her knees, her brows coming together as she stared at him. Her eyes widened with terror and she reached for him. She took in a huge breath and let go a scream of pure power, blasting Seer onto his back.
He blinked rapidly, his breaths ragged and loud in his ears as a ceiling came into view above him.
“Samuel!” somebody wailed. “Saaaamuel!”
Seer sat up, hurrying to Spook now crouched next to Maggie, trying to shake her from the clutches of whatever vision held her.
