Episode 22: Guesses and Guilt

Aubrey Lance, S.S. (Supernatural Sleuth) -- Season 1, Episode 22: Guesses & Guilt

I blinked. “Are you saying they took Chloe because of me?”

That had been one of my theories early on, but the fact that any of this may have been my fault made my stomach turn.

My dad nodded. “I’m sorry, Aubrey, but it looks that way. It’s most likely that both Emery and Chloe were taken by the same people who came after me years ago—or the same organization, if not the exact same individuals. We suspect they started watching you and Emery both once they identified Emery’s gifts, and that Emery was taken as a result of hers. My guess is that Chloe is just a normal girl who got sucked up in this because of her proximity to you. She does resemble Emery, so it’s possible she was mistaken for your sister, but if so, that would mean they don’t already have Emery. That would present a whole host of new questions about where Emery is, if not with them.” 

Or whether she really did drown—-though neither of us wanted to say it. 

“You’ve been elusive, Aubrey,” my dad continued. “You haven’t shown any outward sign of a gift. I’m sure that’s frustrating them, especially if they suspect Emery is communicating with you, but they’re unable to pinpoint how. And if they already have Emery…”

“Then they took Chloe as leverage to get to me?” I answered, though I felt sick saying it. 

“It’s possible,” my dad answered gently. 

Chloe was my only real friend—even a few days of surveillance of my school activities would’ve been enough to confirm that. From there, it wouldn’t have been difficult to surmise what she meant to me, and what I’d be willing to do to get her back. 

“Why?” I asked. “What do they want? There have been no demands, no ransom notes…if they took her to get to me, then what are they after?” 

Trenchcoat Man looked at me. “My guess? To force you to show and confirm your gifts. These people tend not to move until they have confirmation of their target’s abilities—not just to ensure their targets have gifts, but because it’s too big a risk to move in on someone not knowing what they can do.” 

“If you want to see if there are hornets in a nest, you hit it with a stick,” my dad added. “We fear that Chloe’s kidnapping is the stick—which means they’ll be watching you more closely than ever, waiting to see what you do.” 

The implications of that statement sent a shiver down my spine.

Trenchcoat Man gave me a sympathetic look. “Your father is right. These people kidnap and traffic humans with supernatural abilities, Aubrey. They wouldn’t want to waste time on someone without a gift, but they also like to know what they’re walking into. Chloe’s capture is most likely an attempt to lure you more out into the open and to flush out what your abilities are.” 

Collin stepped closer to me, shooting Trenchcoat Man a stare of horror. “But that means they’d need a way of knowing if Aubrey used her magic. Either they’d need a magical way to tell if someone had powers, or a spy close to her who could report back, or hidden cameras, or something. They’d basically have to be watching her every move.” 

Trenchcoat Man met Collin’s conjectures with a level stare. “Indeed. We’re not yet sure which, but yes.”

 “Well, that’s horrifying,” Lockley muttered.

I shared her sentiment.

“The good news is this means Chloe is most likely still alive,” Trenchcoat Man said.  “It would be to their advantage to keep her that way until they were sure they didn’t need her as further leverage, especially since Aubrey has not yet revealed the full extent of her gift to anyone.” 

He said the last part sort of like a question. 

I shook my head quickly. “No, I have not. Not even to myself—I have no idea how my abilities work. I get dreams, but they’re usually a mess of jumbled nonsense, other than the ones Emery sent me. Those were more clear. But I haven’t had a new one of those in more than a year, just the same one over and over.” 

I didn’t like to think about what that meant—about why Emery might not be able to send me new messages. I wasn’t going down that spiral, not now. My parents believed Emery was still alive, and so did these cheerleaders and the Trenchcoat Man, and that was enough for me to believe it, too… on a level I hadn’t dared to in a very long time. 

The Trenchcoat Man nodded. “Well, your ineptitude with your own gift is working in our favor, for now. They’re not likely to act further until they’ve determined what risk you might pose versus what reward.” 

There was something chilling about the way he said that. 

“We’re not sure how they’re watching you,” my dad added. “We suspect they have some long-distance method of sensing when certain gifts are used, rather than direct surveillance, but we can’t be sure. For now, it’s best if you don’t use your abilities.” 

“I can’t control them, though,” I said after a moment. “They come as dreams. How am I supposed to control that?” 

Trenchcoat Man grunted. “We suspect there’s a difference in detection between passive uses of a gift, like dreaming unintentionally, and a more active usage of the gift. If your dreams alone had triggered their monitors, it’s likely they wouldn’t have needed to use Chloe to draw out your magic. They’re clearly looking for something more, something they haven’t yet detected.” 

“I don’t know that there is more,” I said. 

Trenchcoat Man stared at me. “We all have reason to believe there is.” 

“What does that mean?” Collin interjected.

“Intentional dream-walking is one possibility,” Jillian offered. “I’ve heard of supernaturals who could do that.” 

Trenchcoat Man nodded. “It’s like lucid dreaming, but way more intense, and in some cases allows for intentionally crossing into someone else’s dreamscape. There are also other variations of clairvoyance or vision-related gifts that can be wielded intentionally.” He glanced at my father. “You’ve had many iterations in your family line.” 

My dad nodded. “Yes, from what I understand—not that my grandmother talked about it much. I think since my father and I both lacked the gift, she believed it may have died off and thought it best not to give PopPop any more reasons to think she was crazy.”

That was an interesting bit of family context, but it didn’t help my problem. “I need to figure out my gifts, though,” I said after a moment. “What if I can go deeper into the dreams Emery sent me, or the other ones I’ve had since? What if there are clues there?” 

I was determined to chase down every trail that might help us find Emery, and cling to the hope of rescuing both her and Chloe until reality pried it from my cold, dead fingers. I would rather have tried everything and been wrong, than risk giving up when there was still even an iota of possibility they were out there waiting for rescue. I needed to figure out what my abilities were, and how to use them, but I had no clue where to start. 

“As much as I agree with you,” my dad said, “it’s too big a risk right now. Until we figure out more of what we’re dealing with, demonstrating your abilities could just put you and Chloe and Emery in even more danger.” 

I could see his point, but wow, was it frustrating. 

Dad stepped closer. “Just give us a bit more time, okay? Let Marshall and I do some more legwork first to figure out what kind of monitoring these people have on you, how you might trigger it, and what would happen if you did. If we can figure out where these people are operating from, and how they’re operating, then we might be able to get ahead of them.” 

I glared at him. “I thought you said we would work these cases together. Why did you say all of that as though it didn’t involve me?” 

My dad smiled. “Because we have another job for you, one that requires only the passive powers you’ve already been using, and which keeps your cover as a ‘normal’ teenager intact… mostly.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “What’s that?” 

Trenchcoat Man and my dad exchanged a glance, then Trenchcoat Man turned back to me.

“Good, old-fashioned investigative work,” he said. “Your dad told me you have a whole page in a notebook that Emery wrote to you. My junior investigators say your gut tells you it’s more than just random notes—is that true?” 

The images from the pages immediately surfaced in my mind, and my chest filled with a strange fluttering. “Yes.” 

“Your gut might be more than just a gut, if you catch my meaning,” Trenchoat Man said. 

I stared at him, then nodded. I’d suspected those pages were trying to say something to me. The insinuation that my instincts about them might be supernatural, and not just a typical hunch, was probably the least crazy thing any of them had told me today. 

My dad’s eyes locked on mine. “I need to know, Aubs—there’s a chance this may not turn out as any of us hope. Are you willing to follow those gut instincts, those breadcrumbs, wherever they might lead? Would you be able to handle it, if…” 

“If what we find isn’t good news?” My voice broke. 

Dad gave me a solemn look. “Yes.” 

I swallowed. 

Of course, I knew it was possible this might not have the happy ending I hoped for… for Emery or Chloe, or both. Could I handle it, if my breadcrumbs led me somewhere terrible? 

The possibility terrified me… but not knowing was worse. 

Down to the deepest parts of me, I needed to know the truth of what had happened to my sister and my best friend. I needed to follow my instincts—those whisperings of my gift—to whatever truth they uncovered. 

Even if that truth might break me. 

I met my dad’s eyes. “Yes.” 

Trenchcoat Man smiled. “Excellent. Then your assignment has already begun.” 

***

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