Downfall by S.D. Wasley

  Chapter 11: Transformation

  Three of us waited in the chamber that night―Nadine, Jude, and me―pretending to play a round of poker while we wondered where Cain, Owen, and Liz could be.

  “I think I know what happened to the old lady at the Mayfair,” I volunteered.

  Nadine barely spared me a glance. “One step ahead of you, Frankie. Owen found an article online about it. We know she’s dead. We were too late to help her.”

  Her brutality took my breath away. And ... they knew about it but no one had bothered to tell me? Owen had told Nadine, the newest one; but not Frankie, the normal. The mistake. Liz came through the door. She stood still, mobile phone in hand, and gazed around at us all.

  “Owen called. He nearly fell under a train this morning.”

  “Whoa!” Nadine exclaimed and Jude almost dropped his beer.

  “Someone pushed past him while he was standing on the platform and he fell off as a train came through. But his satchel caught on a signpost as he went down and he was able to use it to pull himself back onto the platform. The station CCTV footage made the news tonight.”

  “Is he okay?” Jude asked.

  “Yes. But guess what? Owen and Cain found him. The man.”

  “The guy with the blue car?” Nadine gasped.

  Liz nodded, her words tumbling out joyfully. “They went to McNally Street after Owen’s train incident, wanting to get more of an idea of what the situation was. Cain had found out the woman’s name. Then the husband turned up! You know, to pick up the kids for his access visit.” Her eyes bulged with excitement. “He was already wound up. He wanted to take the boys to see a movie but she asked if he could give them an early night because the older one had kindy in the morning. It made him mad. The wife tried not to rock the boat but he was like a time bomb. She even offered to give him a break from his access visit, said she knew he must be tired after work but he just pulled the kids into the car and left.”

  “Did Cain and Owen follow him?” Nadine asked.

  “Of course! They followed him while he drove for an hour towards Haverton. Owen realized what was going to happen. He saw a vision of what the guy was going to do. He was going to drive them into the Lichfield Dam.”

  “Shit,” Jude said, his voice low.

  “So they overtook him and beat him there. They phoned the local police as they drove and reported a suspicious character heading for the dam with two children. Then they parked and waited for him. Cain stood in the middle of the boat ramp, Owen said, like a brick wall.” Liz laughed proudly. “The guy turned up, wild as anything and honked and ranted at them to get out of the way, then Owen told him to stop, said whatever he could think of to stop him and buy some time. The guy wasted a few minutes shouting abuse about his ex-wife and by the time he finished the police had arrived. The man was so crazy with anger at that stage they just took him straight into custody. The police could see exactly what he was trying to do.”

  “He’ll never get to see those kids again,” Nadine declared. “No magistrate would allow it. They’ll be safe now.”

  Then it clicked for Jude. “Owen saw the whole thing in a vision?”

  Liz nodded, grinning. “It happened. Owen ... he changed.”

  Jude and Nadine’s mouths fell open. I gazed around, unsure what she meant. Jude recovered first, hugging Liz clumsily while Nadine whooped.

  “Changed how?” I asked when they had calmed down and Liz had gone to the cooler room to fetch celebratory drinks.

  Jude looked at me sharply and even Nadine, as new as she was, sucked in her breath in a hissing gasp, shocked by my ignorance. Jude came to the rescue. He laughed and nudged me with his foot. Thankfully there wasn’t long for me to wait to find out what they meant. I heard them first, sitting upright to listen to the creaking of the timber beams in the ceiling above our heads. We all turned toward the door and Owen and Cain stepped in, both smiling. I forgot to breathe. Against the darkness behind them, both had a discernible glow. Warm light seemed to emanate from their skin and hair, just like the soft radiance of the moon.

  Owen was totally different. He exuded hard, solid strength. His somewhat timid owl face had become calm and powerfully joyful. He even seemed taller. And he was just as beautiful as Cain. The hair rose on my arms and neck and tears prickled in my eyes from the shock of his rapid physical change, but Liz, Nadine and Jude buzzed with delight. They clamored for details, but fell silent as Owen recounted the story in his calming voice. He described the vision that showed him conclusively what the man intended for his little boys. He saw the car hit the dam, the cold water waking the sleeping toddler, the older boy wailing as he clambered around inside the car searching for an escape, water gushing through the car door seals while their father wept hysterically in the driver’s seat. The story freaked me out so much I had to turn away to hide my expression.

  The others listened to his vision without any such qualms, their eyes searching Owen’s face as though he could never say enough about the topic. Like they were learning. Of course, I recalled, they were learning. They were all preparing for the same transformation Owen had undergone today. The changes to Cain’s visions after he had his accident were a pattern of development and the others were in chrysalis stage. That’s why Cain had seen all their faces during his critical illness in hospital: he’d been sent to find them, protect them and, when the time was right, support them while they were transformed into saints. Except me.

  I faked joy for the rest of the evening, forcing a smile onto my face when really I could only feel two identifiable emotions: massive relief that they’d saved those little boys, and a weird loneliness. When Liz finally yawned and said she had to get to work, we all packed up. I kept that smile plastered on my face so Cain wouldn’t suspect anything but I was first out the door.

  At home Albion had waited up for me. Dammit. The one night I needed my privacy, and here he was, waiting for me. He saw evidence of tears and ushered me into a chair to launch his interrogation.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “There’s something bad going on in your life, Francesca Theresa Caravaggio,” he argued.

  Hearing my full name made me feel worse. It was an affirmation of my family, culture and faith I didn’t need to hear at that moment. And only Cain called me Francesca. A sob escaped me. I hated myself for it, but Albion came over sympathetic.

  “Hey,” he said gently. “I want to help.”

  “You don’t care,” I snapped. “You just want to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Albion observed me for some time, neither arguing nor conceding. “Frankie, your life’s become intense. I don’t know what you do every night but it’s time you started to live a normal life again.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You need some time off. I’ve hardly seen you since you moved in. This Saturday I want you to come with me to the Augur’s Well market. We’ll go early. Breakfast, coffee, and shopping.”

  My lip curled with contempt. “Retail therapy?”

  “That’s right,” he said firmly.

  I shrugged but actually it sounded sort of nice, if a bit pointless. I might enjoy spending time with a normal person. Another throwaway, meaningless person, like me.