The Center: A Psychic Paranormal Romance (Building the Circle Book 3) Read online

  The Center

  Buidling the Circle - Book 3

  Maggie M Lily

  Copyright © 2020 Maggie M Lily

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Certain long-standing institutions, agencies, and public offices are mentioned, but the characters and situations involved are wholly imaginary.

  The cover image for this novel was created through Canva.com. The beautiful people pictured are models, and are in no way associated with the characters in this fictional novel.

  For my husband,

  who caught the (not subtle) hints and got me a puppy.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Thanks for reading!

  Building the Circle

  Prologue

  Sam - Four Years Old

  "STOP TELLING ME THERE'S NOTHING WRONG!" Darla Trellis was screaming at another doctor.

  "Mrs. Trellis, we have run every test, investigated every possible lead. We've done sleep studies, tried medications, scans, MRIs. There is nothing abnormal about Samuel's brain, nothing at all. It's time to start considering mental illness," the doctor calmly explained.

  "Fine, by all means, let's explore mental illness. Let's talk to psychiatrists and see what they have to say. I'm not opposed to that at all.

  "We might not know what's wrong, but there is something wrong. My kid should not be waking up in the middle of the night, screaming about fires and people dying. He shouldn't be waking up with his nose gushing blood and his ears bleeding. That is not OK. SOMETHING is wrong. So, what is the next step?" Darla asked.

  The doctor sighed again. "Samuel's age complicates things. He just turned four. He doesn't express himself well with words, yet. Doing an evaluation at this point is going to be difficult. Possible, but difficult. I'll suggest some specialists in the area.

  "But, Mrs. Trellis, I think you might also want to consider that he's doing this to himself, as a cry for attention. There are younger siblings now, and another on the way. Samuel may be doing this to make you focus on him," the doctor finished in a quiet, calming voice.

  Darla stared at the doctor with no reaction on her face.

  An uncomfortable thirty seconds later, the doctor continued, "I know that's hard to hear and takes time to process. No one is blaming anyone for anything. There are a lot of children in the home. He may need a little more one-on-one time."

  Darla cleared her throat. "I wasn't staring at you because I thought you were blaming me for anything. I understand your message. I concede the point: there are a lot of kids in my home.

  "I was trying to think through how he'd make his ears bleed. He could be banging his face and making his nose bleed, I guess. Though, we've looked for damage in his nose and sinuses. There is none. But, how would he make his ears bleed?" Darla asked in a cold voice.

  "There is a video of it happening during the sleep study. You can't even tell me I'm exaggerating or confusing the source of the blood. It's on video. How would Sam make his ears bleed?"

  Sam - Twelve Years Old

  "It's my birthday. It's the middle of summer. There's no school tomorrow. Can't I just stay up tonight?" Sam asked again.

  "Samuel, you heard the doctor as clearly as I did. The sleep schedule is important. You'll go to bed on time, as usual, birthday or not," Darla responded.

  "I'm twelve now. Can I negotiate a bump in bedtime, at least? Maybe 10 PM instead of 9?" He asked.

  "9 PM, Sam. Please? I know you hate it, honey. But, with the sleep 'retraining' thing, it'll be worth it in the end." The hope in Darla's voice sounded false, even to her.

  "Mom, we both know this isn't going to work," Sam snapped. "Either everything's going to be on fire, or everyone's going to be gasping for air. I'm going to have nightmares of people suffering and dying. Because that's all that happens when I sleep. There are no other dreams for me. Nightmares are it. That's my sleep. Always. No sleep schedule is going to change it. We both know it. Why are we doing this?"

  Darla's expression flashed with pain. She turned away quickly, but Sam saw it. He made his mom cry. Again.

  "I'm sorry, Mom," Sam muttered, upset with himself for upsetting his mother.

  Hank sighed. "We'll figure it out, Sam. We'll get this straight. You shouldn't have nightmares constantly. But you need to sleep. Your brain needs sleep. There's no way around it. Staying awake for as long as you can isn't going to help things. We need to find a sustainable solution. This schedule option is relatively easy. A consistent bedtime and wake time can't hurt. So, let's try it, OK?" Hank asked.

  Sam watched as Darla tried to hide the tears as she wiped them from her eyes. "OK. I'm sorry," he muttered again.

  "It's not your fault, Sam," Hank said. "You know that, right? We'll figure it out."

  There's nothing to figure out, Dad. This is all there is. Fire or suffocating in sleep, Sam thought as he got ready for bed.

  But, that night, his dream started in a tavern. A bar. He was sitting on a barstool. Looking at a fireplace with green fire.

  "Well, there's still fire, but this is new," Sam said aloud.

  There was a gasp behind him. In the shadow of a doorway, a little girl was staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

  "Hi, can you hear me?" No one had ever responded to Sam in other dreams.

  The little girl blinked, backing more into the shadows.

  Sam got off the barstool and sat on the floor. "I'm Sam. What's your name?"

  She didn't say anything. Didn't move.

  "I'm sorry you're scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise," he said. "Do you know where we are?"

  She gasped again, backing further away. OK, wrong question, Sam thought.

  "OK. It doesn't matter. This is much better than my normal dream, even if you won't talk to me. I like your green fire."

  The girl looked at the fireplace with a frown, her violet eyes flashing in the dimness.

  "Wow! You have purple eyes! I've never seen anyone with violet eyes before. Do you know what color purple is?" He asked. Maybe they could talk about standard little kid stuff.

  The fire turned purple.

  Sam laughed. "That's awesome! Can you make it other colors?"

  The fire turned turquoise, then royal blue, then pink.

  "Can you make it a rainbow of colors?"

  The fire turned into a rainbow, with violet shining brightest.

  "Is violet-?"

  Darla was shaking him awake, sunlight streaming in the windows.

  Sam - Fifteen Years Old

  "YOU HAVE TO SLEEP, SAM. YOUR BRAIN NEEDS REST. GO GET READY FOR BED!" Darla yelled.

  "My brain is broken, Mom. Rest isn't going to help it. I don't want to watch peopl
e die in my dreams. I'll be fine," Sam said, voice monotone.

  "Sam, you've been awake for FOUR days. You can't focus your eyes. You're going to end up having an accident and killing yourself like this. GO TO BED," Darla bellowed.

  "That's fine, Mom. I'd rather die than have more nightmares. I'm not going to bed."

  Sam immediately regretted his words as Darla rocked back, pain clear on her face. "Ugh, Mom. I don't have to sleep, yet. I'm still OK. Maybe tomorrow?"

  "Please try," Darla asked, not trying to hide the tears. "It hurts to see you like this, Sam."

  Sam sighed at her.

  "I don't know how to help. I can't help. And I know it's horrible. But, you have to sleep," Darla choked out, letting the sobs free. Sam couldn't stand to see her cry, and she knew it.

  He glared as she opened and closed her mouth, trying to find words to help. When nothing came, Darla took a heaving, sobby, deep breath.

  That did it.

  "OK. OK, Mom. I'm sorry," he muttered.

  There's nothing to help, Mom. This is all there is, Sam thought as he got ready for bed.

  His dream started in the bar. He was sitting on the stool. Looking at the fireplace with green fire.

  Oh. I'll take this. I haven't been here in months, he thought.

  "Are you here?" Sam called.

  There was a gasp behind him. She was still tucked away in the shadow of the doorway, terrified of him. She was always afraid at first. Sometimes it got better.

  "Hi," Sam said quietly. "I haven't seen you in a while. Will you talk to me this time?"

  The girl blinked, backing more into the shadows.

  Sam got off the barstool and sat on the floor so he'd be closer to her level. "I'm Sam. What's your name?"

  She didn't say anything. Didn't move. Sam introduced himself every time. She never responded, never spoke to him.

  "Green fire tonight? Not purple? I thought purple was your favorite."

  The girl looked at the fireplace and frowned. The fire turned purple.

  "That is the neatest trick! I wish you'd show me how to do it. Can you make it a rainbow again?"

  The fire turned into a rainbow of colors.

  They played with the fire in every dream. Sometimes, she'd play other games. She liked hide-and-seek, so long as Sam didn't get close to her. Sometimes they spun as fast as they could on the barstools. Sometimes they twirled in place until they got too dizzy and tipped over.

  It was all fine with Sam. Anything was better with her than with the other dreams. He'd do whatever she wanted, even if she stood in the doorway and just watched as he talked to her about random things.

  He had watched TV with his younger sister for a while just so he could talk to her about shows she might like. He read younger books, hoping maybe she read some of them. But, she wouldn't speak to him, no matter what he did or what he talked about. She was always afraid.

  Sam clapped quietly for her trick with the fire, careful not to startle her. "I know I scare you. I'm sorry. I hate that you're afraid of me. But I'm always glad to see you." He dropped his gaze, hoping she'd relax a little bit. "My other dreams are horrible."

  Sam heard something that might have been a foot shuffle. When he looked up, she was sitting directly in front of him.

  "Oh!" He said, pleasantly surprised.

  "Well, hello." Sam grinned at her.

  She tapped her forehead and then gestured like she was screaming while holding the sides of her head. There was no sound, but the motions were clear enough.

  "Your head hurts?" He asked quietly. She'd never tried to communicate anything other than games to him. "Does my talking hurt? I'm sorry," he whispered.

  She shook her head, pointing toward one of the doorways. She stuffed her fingers in her ears.

  "It's quieter there?" He guessed again.

  She nodded and smiled at Sam. A real smile, not the tentative, sad upturn of lips he'd gotten in the past. His heart sped up a bit. She wasn't as afraid of him.

  This is absolutely the best dream I've ever had. No one's dying. Nothing but the rainbow fire is burning, and she's not as afraid of me, Sam acknowledged to himself.

  The girl stood up, gesturing for him to follow. They were walking out a back door. As he exited the building, it disappeared. Sam and the girl stood in an open field before a forest.

  "How are you going to get home?" Sam asked.

  The girl smiled again, violet eyes glowing in the dark as she laid her head on her hands, pretending to be asleep.

  "You're right. We're dreaming. OK," Sam said. "Where are we going? You don't want to play hide-and-seek out here, do you? I had a hard time finding you in the bar. I'll get hopelessly lost in the forest."

  She grabbed his hand to pull him forward.

  "-clearing is that way," he heard in his mind.

  "We're going to a clearing?" He asked, startled.

  The girl paused, looking down at their joined hands. "Can you hear me?"

  Sam nodded. "I can hear you."

  "Oh," she said, surprised. "Sometimes I can still talk to Mama like this, too. But, only sometimes. I didn't think it worked like this here. The energy is different here."

  "Where are we?" Sam asked the girl as the dream ended.

  Sam - Twenty Years Old

  In Sam's dream, he sat in the circular clearing in the center of the girl's forest. She wept bloody tears of pain, grief, and fear onto his t-shirt. He could feel her pain like it was his own as her words rambled through his mind.

  "They're dying, Sam. The fires and the floods and the hurricanes. They're taking my life. I can't help. I should be able to help. We should be able to help. My life is dying! My head is throbbing with deaths. Sam, they're dying. They're not supposed to die yet. Why are they dying? Please, make it stop," she begged through her sobs.

  "It will be OK. We'll figure out how to help," Sam soothed aloud, over and over, knowing he was completely useless to her.

  "I'm burning, Sam. Please. I'm burning with power. Please, help me. It's too much. Too much energy. I'm burning. I can't hold any more, but it keeps coming. Please help me, please make it stop. Sam, it hurts. Please help," she cried.

  The utter silence as she pleaded in his mind made it worse for Sam. He knew he was failing her. He didn't know what to do or how to help. He was the only one that could hear her.

  "I want to help. Please help me help you. How do I find you, little one? How do I get to you?" Sam asked.

  "Just come to me, Sam. You just come here. Please!"

  "I will come to you right now. Immediately. Just tell me where to go. Where are you?"

  She began weeping again as Sam felt the dream pulling away.

  "Don't leave me! Sam, don't go!"

  The words echoed in Sam's mind as he sat up in bed. He could still taste her terror and feel her pain.

  Chapter 1

  Adaline - Ten Days Ago

  The cougar was watching when Adaline woke.

  She looked through the cat's eyes to see herself lying in the clearing. She felt the cat's pain as it reacted to her pain.

  Adaline didn't think about the pain. It was ever-present agony now, always burning within her. Too much power. She was ten years past the point of being overloaded into madness. Still, she waited.

  I'm sorry, she told the cougar. Go hunt.

  He didn't want to leave her.

  Adaline showed him the suffering rabbit ten yards away, stuck in a patch of undergrowth with a broken leg.

  Dinner. She told him.

  The cougar was gone.

  As she shifted to sit upright, she could feel the life around her reacting to her movements. The wild grass shifted under her, making itself more comfortable. The critters watched her as she looked around.

  Outside her forest, the restaurant was full. She could feel her family and their friends as they went on about their lives. A quick scan told her things were well.

  Mr. Hangerst, sitting at the bar, ordered his third beer and wondered about Adaline
. He didn't ask Clyde or Ava, though. The town had agreed not to ask. Not to hurt the family. Mr. Hangerst understood that. Respected that. But, still. He wondered about Adaline every time he visited the restaurant.

  Adaline smiled. It made her feel less alone to know that people loved her. She couldn't go near anyone, anymore. The power was so overloaded it burned people that came into contact with her. So, she couldn't touch anyone to share thoughts anymore. She couldn't speak. But, it still felt good to know that people thought about her. Loved her, as she loved them.

  Casting her mental net wider, she could feel life everywhere. Around the world. Focused into a specific place like the restaurant, or spread out on a global scale.

  There were forty-two power circles closed on the continent at the moment. As a child, she had been able to send her power to other circles. Share it with the world. But, she needed to be able to close a circle with others to do that bit of wonder. That time was gone.

  The only one she could share anything with now - thoughts, touch, or power - was Sam. And Sam was gone from her dreams. She could not find him in sleep, couldn't feel him, couldn't pull him toward her. He was just gone.

  Searching for and going to his mind while awake was dangerous. The ward didn't protect as well when she forced her waking energy through it. If attacked in that state, she'd be helpless.

  What if something has happened to him, though? The thought terrified her.

  The ward rippled, as it did every time Adaline went in search of Sam. The vibration hurt. This was dangerous. She should not do this. But, she was already doing it. Too late to second guess the wisdom of it.

  Sam was in the building in the sky that was not his home. With a small touch of focus, she joined her mind with his, looking through his eyes.

  Are you with me? Sam asked.

  May I stay for a little while? Adaline asked.

  Are you well? I can't find you now. You are gone from my dreams, he said.

  She felt his despair and fear. It hurt both their hearts.

  I'll keep trying, Sam promised.

  Someone was talking to him. The man was like Sam. The energy was similar. Family? She asked.