“John Paul, you know Helena is somewhere safe. You wanted her to go, remember? You wanted her to be safe.” MaryAnn was firm but still soothing.
John Paul shook his head adamantly. “Give her back to me.” He shoved a large, deep-cushioned chair out of his way and stepped closer to MaryAnn. He didn’t even glance at Destiny, didn’t appear to notice that anyone else was in the room.
John Paul was so close to her, his jacket brushed Destiny’s shoulder. She cleared her throat experimentally, to draw his attention, but it was wholly centered on MaryAnn.
“I didn’t take Helena, John Paul. She needed some time away from you while she thought things over. Do you remember coining into this office with her? Both of you cried. You begged me to take care of her, and I promised you I would.”
Without warning, John Paul swept his heavy arm across the desk, sending papers and the lamp scattering in all directions. The lamp flew across the room, hit the wall and shattered. Tiny slivers of glass fell like rain to the carpet. John Paul’s attention was immediately caught and held by the glittering pieces of glass.
“MaryAnn, very slowly back into the next room,” Destiny said softly. “He’s under some kind of compulsion, and there’s something about the shattered glass that’s the trigger.” She couldn’t read anything in his mind other than the sudden need for extreme violence. It was an ugly roar, a need to grab and smash anything or anybody close to him. The roar was all she could distinguish at first, but Destiny dodged his swinging fists with blurring speed and concentrated on the sounds bellowing in his mind.
John Paul slammed his fist into the wall, punching a hole through the middle. Spiderweb cracks appeared from floor to ceiling, radiating out from the center.
MaryAnn groaned. “Repairs. Oh, no, repairs are so costly.”
John Paul’s head snapped around toward the sound of Mary Ann’s voice, his brows drawing together, his fists swinging.
Destiny tapped his broad back to draw his attention away from MaryAnn. “Hey, big fella, I thought you wanted to dance with me. I’m the jealous type.”
Stop playing around, Destiny. If that besotted idiot lays another hand on you, I will tear him into little pieces. I am not in the least amused, nor am I joking with you.
In spite of Nicolae’s grim tone, Destiny wanted to laugh. Pitiful male. I’m not slow dancing with him. There’s no need for jealousy. She ducked John Paul’s fist and slipped just out of his reach, staying close enough that the large man kept his attention on her.
“What do you want me to do? Shall I call the police?” MaryAnn asked anxiously, wincing as John Paul struck at Destiny again.
“No, don’t talk, I want his attention on me at all times.” Destiny was working at deciphering the code in his head. He was fast for a big man, but she was much faster and not worried about getting hit. The noises in his head were nearly unbearable. Loud roars and growls, piercing whistles and shrieks. A buzzing like a swarm of bees. She separated the sounds, filtering them as she dodged around the small office always just inches out of John Paul’s reach.
Something planted these sounds in his head, and it wasn’t nature. She shared with Nicolae as she always did.
Someone. He has been programmed much like a bomb might be. If shattered glass is the trigger, what is the target? What is the point of this violence?
Now she could hear it, a voice, low, mumbling something over and over. It sounded as if it were on fast forward, demonic, speaking a command. Puzzled, she amplified it for Nicolae. John Paul was unaware of the command, unaware of the voice at all. It was only part of the terrible roaring in his head.
Destiny waved her hand and silenced the voice, silenced the roaring. John Paul stood in the center of the room, blinking at her with blurry eyes. He looked puzzled. His great shoulders were shaking and he broke out in a sweat. He lifted his head and looked past Destiny to Mary Ann.