Sister Angel by Kate Wilhelm Read Free Book Online

it?”
    “Just leave me alone.”
    “Listen to me, Wanda. There are things about him and Angel that you have to know. She isn’t his daughter, and she’s the one with telepathic powers. He never knows any thing until they go away and he gets it out of her. She’s the one giving him information, not Vernon. And it’s information right out of your head, our heads, not from beyond the grave.”
    Wearily, Wanda turned off the stove, then faced Constance. “I called Amos. There are things moving in the house, unquiet things. I want to see him alone. You and Charlie have to go upstairs, mind your own business. I don’t want you here any longer. Isn’t that clear enough? I don’t want either of you here now. If Vernon tries to tell me something, Charlie just gets in the way.” She moved toward the hall, this time resolutely.
    In defeat, Constance walked with her. They could not order her not to see Amos, order her to keep her house locked up all night, order her to do anything. They were nearing the end of the hall, the bright living room open be fore them, when she stopped abruptly, her fingers digging into Wanda’s arm, pulling her back, her other hand on Wanda’s mouth. Amos was standing in the living room, holding a small gun, looking at Charlie on the couch.
    “Just don’t forget it’s here,” Amos was saying, putting the gun in his raincoat pocket, keeping his hand on it. “When she comes out with her nice tea, then we’ll talk.”
    Wanda pulled hard against Constance, and Constance tightened her grasp, held her without difficulty. She pulled her back farther into the shadows.
    “You don’t think people might talk if you come in and shoot up the company?” Charlie said pleasantly. His voice was so mild, so easy, he might have been asking about ball scores.
    “You’re a firebug. Angel told me. Wanda and Angel and I are leaving and you can play with fire.” He had turned so that he could see the hallway to the kitchen. “Just sit still until your wife joins us with her tea.”
    “Were you afraid Vernon was going to take her away from you?”
    Amos moved out of range; they no longer could see him. Constance let go of Wanda and ran to the living room.
    He was standing close to Charlie, speaking in a low, in tense voice. “… her fault. She can’t help it. He was going to investigate us, investigate her, take her away.”
    “And you killed him. He just wanted to do something decent for the kid.”
    “Decent! You know what she does! She told me about you, how she wanted you. I know what that means.”
    “What does it mean?” Wanda asked, holding on to the door frame. “What exactly is it she does?”
    For a moment, Amos looked too stunned to speak. He recovered quickly. “She’s sick. I’ve known it for a long time, but I thought I could cure her. I thought my love would be enough to make her well. It was a mistake. I was misguided. I know that now. She needs medical treatment, a hospital, help—”
    Suddenly, Constance felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, unable to breathe, and at the same time a red hatred poured through her, wrenching her, numbing her. Things were flying through the air; the masks were flying. She tried to dodge, but something caught her on the side of the head and she fell, dazed, far removed from the room.
    Charlie threw his arm up before his face to ward off the masks, caught one on his elbow and felt his entire arm go numb. Hatred and fury blinded him. He grunted and fell to his knees when something smashed into his midsection. The chessboard flew from the table, scattering pieces, and hit Amos in the back. Amos was screaming hoarsely. “An gel! For God’s sake, stop it! Sister Angel, be a good girl. Stop!” It was cut off by a scream, and Charlie could not tell whose scream it was. Wanda crumpled to the floor.
    Constance pulled herself up, got to her knees. Angel was on the top step, barefoot, dressed in a man’s pajama shirt that