Talgorian Prophecy Read online

  TALGORIAN PROPHECY

  Melissa Alvarez writing as Ariana Dupré

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  Talgorian Prophecy

  ISBN 13: 978-1-59611-065-6

  ISBN 10: 1-59611-065-1

  Published by Adrema Press: February 2011, December 2022

  Adrema Press, 1095 Military Trail, #7022, Jupiter, FL 33458

  Copyright © 2008, 2011, 2022 by Melissa Alvarez

  This novel was originally published elsewhere but has been revised for the current release with Adrema Press.

  Smashwords Edition, Smashwords License Statement: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All Rights Reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information or retrieval system, is forbidden without the prior written permission of both the publisher and copyright owner of this book. For information address Adrema Press.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone, living or dead, bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual, known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention from the author’s imagination. All Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To Thelma & John, my grandparents, I love you both!

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Buick: General Motors Corporation

  Ford: Ford Motor Company

  Gummy Worms: Ferrara Pan Candy Co., Inc.

  Mothman: Austin, Michael W. Individual Stoneking’s Island, Inc.

  Mustang: Ford Motor Company

  Scrunchie: L&N Sales and Marketing, Inc.

  Chapter One

  “Would you go home if a serial killer abducted your child?” Megan Cassidy slammed her fists hard against the desk. “Would you?” Her angry stare bore into the steel gray eyes of the officer, emotions raging past better judgment. “How dare you dismiss me. You have no idea what I’m going through.”

  Lieutenant Randal rose from his chair and walked around the desk. He grabbed Megan’s elbow, propelling her toward the door. “We’ll call if there are any developments.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, you coldhearted—” She yanked her arm free from the tight, uncomfortable grip and faced him. She searched his eyes for some shred of understanding, any emotion she could connect with. His features were like a brick wall, cold and rough. “Don’t you understand? I need to help you find my son.”

  A mangled, bloody scene flashed through her mind. The glint of a knife, the pitching roar of maniacal laughter rang in her ears. A hooded man stabbed a lifeless body again and again.

  The killer’s emotions radiated from him. The spark in his eyes reflected joy in the kill, yet the snarl of his lips held contempt for the victim. He looked up. His evil glare slammed into her.

  Megan shrank back in terror, her pulse raced.

  Anger. Pure and uncontrollable fury. His rage coursed through her. She trembled but couldn’t pull her gaze away. She tried to see his face but the hood covered his features. Red crazed eyes stared at her from the darkness.

  Locked within his hypnotic trance, Megan waited for some clue to the maniac’s identity.

  The scene vanished.

  Megan dug her fingers into the hard flesh of Randal’s arms. Her voice lowered, straining with emotion. “We have to find my son now!”

  “Ms. Cassidy!” Randal jerked his arm away.

  “I saw…” Her heart pounded. Fear rose up her spine at the thought of the Mangler with her son. She stepped between Randal and the door. “I can help you. We must search now before it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean we?” Lieutenant Randal laughed. “I’ve told you I won’t have some half-cocked celebrity in the middle of my investigation, especially one who claims to be psychic.”

  “I can use my abilities to find Robbie. I’ve assisted other police departments throughout the country in missing persons cases.” She’d encountered resistance before but Randal had closed his mind to anything he couldn’t see or prove with facts.

  “Do you think I give a damn about what you’ve done with other departments?” Randal snorted.

  “I’ll stay behind the scenes. The media will never know I’m around. The Clarkston Police Department and West Virginia State Police can take all the credit.” Despite her bravado, her voice cracked. Tears stung her eyes. “It’s how I always work.”

  She braced her hands against the doorframe to keep Randal from pushing her out of the office. “This is my son we’re talking about, Randal,” she said, blinking back the tears. “Put yourself in my shoes. I’m begging you.”

  Randal sized up the woman blocking the door. Straight hair hung below narrow shoulders. Its honey color shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the window beside them. If the Mangler had abducted his son he wouldn’t leave the station either but damn if he’d act like this. Maybe he was too hard on her but he didn’t like her type.

  “I understand your feelings. In abduction cases, hysterical mothers often exhibit your type of behavior. Raving like a lunatic about psychic powers doesn’t do anything for you, your son, or our investigation.”

  “In each of the previous abductions the Mountain Mangler took the child first and then its parent, who had psychic abilities, like I do.” She clung to the doorframe. “An hour after he killed the kid, he murdered the parent. The bodies were all found in the West Virginia portion of the Allegheny Mountains. He’s going to come after me now that he has Robbie.”

  “I know his MO. As we agreed, when the time comes, we’ll use you as bait to lure him to us if we can ensure your safety. If not, we’ll try a different approach. We have men looking for your son.” Randal rubbed the stubble on his cheek and blew out a heavy breath. “Until that time comes, you can wait over there if you’ll stay out of the way.” He pointed toward a navy blue chair sitting near the wall beside his office.

  “When that time comes?” Her voice raised an octave. “We can’t s
it around and wait for something to happen. We need to find him now! Your men are looking in town, not in the mountains. Why won’t you let me help?”

  “Ms. Cassidy, I can’t investigate your son’s disappearance if you keep antagonizing me. We’re working as fast as possible. Now please, have a seat.”

  Megan frowned. He wasn’t going to give in. A new thought crossed her mind. What if he let her secret about Robbie slip? She couldn’t deal with any more stress. She fought against the panicky anger Randal fueled in her. “You haven’t told the press, right? I’ve worked hard to keep Robbie’s existence a secret in my public life. I don’t want them to find out about him now, in the middle of a serial killer investigation, or have the paparazzi coming after me to get a story.”

  “I promised not to release names unless it was necessary. You don’t have to keep asking me. Regardless of what you think of my integrity, my word is my bond. Now, Ms. Cassidy, please, will you go sit down?”

  Megan dropped her hands from the doorframe and stepped aside. “What are you going to do first?”

  “Let me handle the investigation.” Randal grabbed some papers off the fax machine, returned to his office and shut the door.

  “Six people are dead, Randal.” Megan yelled at him through the window. “My child isn’t going to be next!”

  She stared as the Lieutenant closed the blinds on the office door.

  His word better be his bond.

  One slip from Randal and her secret would be national news. Only a handful of people knew of Robbie’s existence. She kept it that way to protect him. It had been difficult to go out in public together but they’d managed with Carmela’s assistance. A lot of good it did.

  She’d been lucky to find Carmela, Robbie’s babysitter since birth. She was loyal and, as far as Megan knew, had never told anyone about him. A couple of times, they’d even pretended Robbie was Carmela’s son when the paparazzi got too close.

  She even chose the private school he attended because of the strict code of silence it maintained. Several other celebrities’ children attended Cross Meadows. She’d always thought it was a necessary expense, until today when the serial killer abducted him from the school grounds.

  This is my fault. If I hadn’t chosen to use my abilities to support us, this never would have happened.

  Working the television talk show circuit had thrown her into the limelight because her readings were so accurate and now, Megan Cassidy was a household name.

  It had gotten to the point where she couldn’t keep up with the hundreds of reading requests she received every day. Once she hit the talk shows the numbers increased. She spent her days conducting readings on the phone or in person and she was booked seven months in advance. Granted, she now made enough money to afford everything she and Robbie needed but why had success come at such a high price?

  If only she could control the way she received the information maybe Robbie would be with her right now instead of in the clutches of a killer.

  Wandering over to the chair, she couldn’t keep the Mangler’s vileness from her thoughts. That madman had her only child. She dropped into the seat. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees and held her head with cold hands.

  Hours ago she’d seen Robbie’s abduction in a vision while waiting in the school’s car line to pick him up. Anger ripped through her at the memory.

  “Your mom called and asked if someone could bring you home today. She’s sick with the flu,” the man had said, walking Robbie toward the front doors. Robbie saw the school’s volunteer badge stuck to his shirt and believed him.

  Upon receiving the impression, she’d thrown the car door open and run to the school’s entrance, pleading, Not my child—not Robbie. Oh God, please don’t let this happen to my son. Panic wound around her making it difficult to breathe. Her stomach clenched into a knot of sick desperation. Her heart beat at a frantic pace.

  “Robbie!” Megan started, realizing she’d screamed his name out loud, as she had when she ordered the teachers to search for him before racing to the parking lot.

  “Ms. Cassidy, are you all right?” Gentle fingers moved her hands away from her face.

  Megan looked into the soft green eyes of a female officer with short brown hair.

  “I was too late,” she whispered, “I didn’t save my son.”

  The officer’s expression melted into one of deep sympathy. “We’re doing all we can to find him.”

  “What damn good are psychic abilities if I couldn’t use them to protect my child? I ran as fast as I could but I wasn’t fast enough. If only I’d sensed the abduction sooner.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” The officer gave Megan’s hands a squeeze. “I’ve seen you advise so many people on television. Don’t you always say if you’re meant to have a vision you will?”

  Megan withdrew her hands. “Yes. Only this time it came too late.”

  Why can’t I be right all the time? Why don’t I see the visions far enough in advance to do the most good? No, I’m not doing this to myself again. It’s out of my hands.

  She always worried about her accuracy. There wasn’t any point in doing readings if the accuracy wasn’t there. Then she wouldn’t be any different from the frauds that gave real psychics a bad name. Long ago she’d realized no psychic was ever one hundred percent. It is a gift, not something I can control.

  A vague vision had destroyed her impending marriage to Brody. Now this one came too late and Robbie could lose his life.

  The horrible, violent vision wouldn’t undermine her determination. Megan straightened in the seat. He would not win. She’d use all the psychic abilities at her disposal to find Robbie alive.

  “I’ve been a fan for years,” the officer said. “Your secret is safe with me. I’m sure your abilities would be invaluable to us if only Lieutenant Randal wasn’t so stuck in his ways.” She stood. “We have a couch in the lunchroom. You’re welcome to sleep there.”

  Megan nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. I’ve got to go back to work.”

  As the officer strode away the memory of a dream flashed through Megan’s mind. Robbie was in a cave, crying for her while she fought with an unknown assailant, the previous victim’s bodies lay around a clearing. She hadn’t understood at first but she’d

  had violent, struggling dreams about each of the murders the night before. She froze in place—the dreams were like her recent visions.

  A nauseous feeling rose in her throat, sweat broke out on her forehead as a chill trembled through her body. She tried to tamp it down by taking deep breaths but the shaking wouldn’t stop. Her stomach pitched and rolled.

  The Clarkston and State Police assured her the killer would hold Robbie captive while he stalked and terrorized the second victim—her.

  Please, God, she prayed, don’t let the Mangler change his MO. This time, it was personal.

  She scanned the large open police station bustling with activity. Desks filled the main room while individual offices lined the walls. Phones rang, the water cooler gurgled and the copier clicked and hummed along with the low drone of people talking. There must be something she could do. Her nerves were too on edge to sit in a stupid chair.

  She glanced at Randal’s office, stood and took a casual stroll along the narrow outside corridor, which followed the four walls of the station’s main room. She pretended to inspect the different posters on the walls while she listened to the conversations behind her, hoping to overhear any discussions about Robbie.

  Halfway around she paused beside an open door. The plaque underneath its window read Detective Paul Archer. She peeked inside. One of the officers who had responded to Cross Meadows emergency call sat behind a wooden desk reading a file.

  Even sitting he looked tall, with black hair and tanned olive skin. When he glanced up, she moved away from the open door and feigned interest in a wanted poster.

  “Brody Phelps is on line two,” a voice said over Archer’s intercom.

/>   Brody? He’d been on her mind since the abduction.

  Archer lifted the receiver. “Archer here.”

  She stepped closer to the doorframe, listening intently.

  “What conflict of interest?”

  Another long pause.

  “You’re the best tracker in West Virginia. If we have any hopes of finding this boy alive, you’re it. Let me know if things change.”

  Anger ran through her like fire. Was Brody refusing to participate in the rescue because of their past? Well, it was time he got over it. She stormed into Archer’s office. “Let me talk to him.”

  “Sure. Bye.” The detective laid the receiver in its cradle. “I’m sorry, Ms. Cassidy. Can I help you?”

  “I wanted to talk to Brody.”

  “He’s gone.”

  Just like my son. She frowned and spun around. Facing the loud buzz of activity coming from the central room, she strode out of Archer’s office.

  A dark shadow moved through her peripheral vision. She looked toward it and found herself staring at people walking around. They were carrying files, talking on the phone, speaking in hushed tones. None of them was the person she’d seen. She realized it hadn’t been a person at all but a spirit.

  The shadow spirit triggered a deeper connection. The buzzing softened, sounding distant. Her vision darkened as if a tunnel was closing in around her. She waited for the psychic scenes to play out in her mind.

  The tunnel’s black walls led to a pinprick of light at the end. The white circle grew closer as the walls sped by. She traveled through its brilliance and into a forest clearing.

  Megan glanced behind her. The police station had disappeared. Instead tall evergreens surrounded her. The smell of pine hung heavily in the air. The forest was strangely silent. She looked up at the sky through an opening in the forest canopy. It appeared to be early afternoon.