IHope hides a dangerous secret; a gift powerful enough to heal the breach between the living and the dead. With two warring gods vying for her love, and a fallen deity determined to take her for his own evil purposes, she must either accept her destiny or take matters into her own hands.
It was annoying, really, this feeling of being watched, wondering if I was going crazy or if the strange presence I’d felt over the past two weeks was more than just a figment of my imagination. I guess it was possible I was imagining the whole thing. Considering the level of paranoia my father operated under on a daily basis—and the fact that I had a tendency to absorb other people’s emotions as if they were my own—there was a distinct possibility I was losing it.
I didn’t fear my watcher, even though fear would have been a healthy response. I simply understood I was capable of the impossible, possessing skills that were valuable to people both good and bad. The thought of someone spying on me seemed inevitable at this point.
My father did everything he could to keep my particular skill set a secret. For all intents and purposes, I was your average seventeen-year-old who lived her life just like any other teenager. I dealt with normal teenage problems and had normal teenage experiences.
Oh yeah, I’m totally normal.
I think I was just ready for something to finally happen and sick to death of hiding who I was and what I was capable of. Instead of ignoring my stalker, I was tempted to turn around and confront this faceless observer.
That’s it! That’s exactly what I would do. I would turn around, throw my hands up in the air and scream, “Okay, you got me. You’ve finally figured it out. Take me to whatever freaky government lab you want and start dissecting my brain for answers. Then maybe you will be able to tell me why I do what I do.”
I understood my powers. I just couldn’t figure out why I was the only person who had them; the only person on this planet capable of healing illnesses and injuries in ten seconds or less.
I almost laughed at that last thought. Ten seconds or less…it could have been a catchy business slogan if miraculous healings were something the general public accepted as totally within the realm of normal.
I was so not normal.
My father and I pondered the “why” for years, but we’d never been able to find any answers. He now refused to dig deeper and tended to avoid the topic whenever I brought it up. I couldn’t tell if this was some form of denial or maybe some kind of coping mechanism for raising a daughter with supernatural abilities. On the other hand, I always felt like he knew more than he was willing to discuss, and I never pushed him to open up about it because I was scared he might actually tell me. I wanted answers, and I was afraid of what those answers might reveal.
Back to my strange stalker issue. The presence I felt wasn’t necessarily malicious or threatening in any way. It felt more watchful. I had no way of knowing if that was good or bad; hence my irritation. I decided the best thing to do was to continue on my way to the hospital and think about it later. I had more important things on my mind.
My father had called me not five minutes earlier to let me know he needed me at the hospital.
My father rarely called me back to the hospital after I’d finished a shift. He didn’t like to encourage my natural propensity for healing anything broken. He hadn’t given me any more details, and I knew better than to ask. We never talked about my abilities over the phone.
I had the errant thought that grabbing my truck and driving the two blocks over would have been faster, but I’d been so surprised by my father’s phone call, I’d failed to consider it.
I entered the hospital through a side entrance and ran up the stairs rather than taking the elevator. I wanted to avoid as many people as possible. My father met me in the stairwell on the second floor.
He looked awful. My stomach clenched at the thought that someone was injured.
“Dad, what’s happened?”