Detached

by Elicia Hyder

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the great, great, great, great, great”—he paused for a breath—“great, great—”

  “I get the idea.”

  “Great,” he added quietly, “granddaughter of the Goddess of Night.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

  I glared at him.

  “It means you have the power to go back and forth.”

  “Back and forth between here and—?”

  “Your world. There are only a couple of you left who can do it.”

  “Who are the others?”

  “I dunno. The Elders mostly care about you.”

  “Why?”

  “I think because your bloodline’s always making trouble.”

  Sounded like Elias.

  “Did you know my father?”

  He looked at me like I had three heads. “Of course I knew him, but I haven’t seen him since it all went down.”

  “Since he went to prison?”

  “Yup. He didn’t detach much after they sent him to the big house. Only to see family, I think.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “He was your daddy. Don’t you know why?”

  “We weren’t close.” That was an understatement. Not only didn’t I talk to Elias, I refused to talk about him either. Something I was immensely regretting now.

  “Somebody wanted him dead,” Flash said.

  “He killed a cop. Lots of people wanted him dead.”

  “Not people. The gods.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “The gods. Like Zeus?”

  “No, Zeus is dead.”

  My head pulled back. “Dead?”

  “Yup, all those guys are gone.”

  “Poseidon? Hades? Athena?”

  “All of ’em. And a few of the ones who are still around are stuck living like humans.” He pointed at me. “We think they want your blood. It’s a pretty big deal.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s so powerful.”

  “You think someone might be after me?”

  “Orion’s pretty worried about it. He told me to tell you not to go out much when you’re detached until you see him.”

  “No argument there. If there was a pill I could take to keep from detaching, I would.”

  “I don’t know about a pill, but there are some stones that will work.”

  “What kind of stones?”

  He lifted his shoulders again. “Not my area of expertise. I’m permanently detached, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. How did that happen?” The spark went out of his eyes, and I immediately regretted the question. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  The corners of Flash’s mouth twisted up into a sad smile. “It’s OK. They say I got a bad batch of twilight anesthesia and meperidine during an ear surgery. I remember seeing myself in the hospital bed, with my momma praying beside me. I was detached too long, so I got stuck here.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I like it in Imera.”

  “Imera?”

  “It’s where all the permanently detached spirits live.”

  “Is that in Nevada?”

  Flash burst out laughing.

  I frowned. “Are you about finished?”

  His laugh died on a melodic slide. “No. Imera isn’t on Earth. It isn’t in the Boundary either. It’s like a whole different world the gods created for spirits who get detached and can’t return to Earth.”

  “How do you get there?”

  He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a necklace with a small glass vial attached. “You ever seen one of these?”

  I shook my head.

  “It’s oneiryte. Watch.” Flash bent over and poured a thin line of sand on the ground, stepped over it, and vanished in a burst of light and wind. My hand shielded my eyes, and when I looked again, the boy was gone. So was the line of sand.

  I looked all around me.

  “Over here!” he called.

  I spotted him, waving from my rooftop. “Holy shit,” I whispered.

  He poured again, more carefully this time, on the roof. Then, with another explosion of light, Flash reappeared back in front of me. I recoiled. With jazz hands, he said, “Ta-da!”

  I clapped. “Impressive.”

  He lifted the vial and shook it. The one-ounce bottle was nearly empty. “I’d better stop showing off. My stash is getting low.”

  “Can you get more?”

  “Yeah, but only in Avalon. It’s the sand on beaches there.”

  “And Avalon is . . . ?”

  “In Imera. It’s where I live.”

  “Is that where Orion lives?”

  “No. Orion lives in Synora with the other guardians. Avalon and Synora are like different countries of Imera.”

  “Will that magic sand take me there?”

  “Oh no.” He plopped back down in front of me. “You’re not allowed to go to Imera.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Elders like to keep the citizens of Imera away from Earth. It makes a lot of ’em sad.”

  “But you can come here?”

  “Only because I’m training to be a guardian, like Orion.” His chest puffed out.

  “Orion’s a guardian?”

  “Yup.”

  “What does he guard?”

  “The Boundary. He makes sure people like you don’t mess everything up!”

  I put my hands up in defense. “Simmer down there, flashlight.”

  “Hey!” He pointed at me. “Don’t call me flashlight.”

  I smiled. “How would I mess everything up?”

  “Lot of ways.” He counted on his fingers. “Letting one of the gods get your blood, detaching other people, getting tangled up with nightwalkers—” His eyes snapped toward the sky. “Speaking of, I’d really better get back. I’m supposed to check in long before sundown.” He pushed himself off the ground, and I followed his lead.

  “So what happens now?” I asked. “When do I get to go see Orion?”

  “You don’t. I told you, you can’t go to Imera.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “Don’t worry. Orion will find you. I’ll tell him you wanna see him too.”

  “Please do.”

  “Remember, don’t go far from your body, and watch your back.”

  “I promise.”

  Flash stuck out his hand, and I accepted it. “It was nice to meet you, Nyx.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Flashlight.”

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s how it’s going to be, huh?”

  “I only pick on the boys I like,” I said with a wink.

  He laughed as he drew another line of sand on the sidewalk. Then he stood, and with one step and a bright flash, he was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Monday morning, Dr. Alina Pratts shined a penlight in my eyes. “Any lingering headache?”

  A little. “No.”

  “Blurry vision?”

  Not in this realm. “No.”

  “Any trouble sleeping?”

  I almost laughed. “No.”

  She turned my head to the side and examined the staples and stitches. “These look like they’re healing up nicely. Hopefully, they won’t scar too much.”

  “They’re starting to itch.”

  “That’s a good sign.” She opened a laptop on the small work desk. “Means they’re healing.”

  “Can I go back to work?”

  “Are you supposed to be at work now?”

  I did some quick math in my head. We worked twelve-hour shifts that rotated to give us every other weekend off. “This is my long week. I’m only off Wednesday and Thursday.”

  She studied my face.

  My eyes were pleading. I stopped short of clasping my hands beneath my chin in full-on begging mode. “I really don’t want to sit at home,” I added.

  “I’
d rather you wait a few more days.”

  My whole body slumped.

  “I’m sorry, Nyx, but that’s a nasty head trauma, and you don’t exactly have a desk job.”

  I nodded, but I wanted to kick my boots against the bottom of the exam table. “What about riding with someone? Can I go to work if I ride shotgun?”

  “Light duty?”

  “Sure.” I could do light duty as long as I wasn’t stuck in the office all day.

  She considered it. “Fine, as long as you’re staying hydrated and not having intense pain or light sensitivity.”

  I could have jumped off the table to hug her. But I didn’t. “Thank you.”

  “But only light duty for two weeks. No foot pursuits and no fights.” She pointed at me. “Especially no fights.”

  “It’s not like I ask them to assume I’m a weak woman and attack me.”

  She scowled.

  “OK. I promise. No fights,” I said, crossing my heart. “When can I get the staples and stitches out?”

  “Come back next week, and I’ll take them out.” She typed something into the computer, closed it, and then stood up. “Can I help you with anything else?”

  I stood and picked up my keys and phone. “Nope. I’m all good.” On the screen was a missed call from Essex. “Am I free to go?”

  “Yes. I’ll see you in a week.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “Bye, Nyx. Please be safe.”

  “Always.”

  When she left, I followed her and tapped Essex’s name in my missed call list.

  “Hey,” he answered, his voice muffled. There was a lot of chatter in the background.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “Yeah. Turn on the news. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

  He hung up before I could explain that I was leaving the doctor’s office. I stopped at the empty checkout desk. Odd. I leaned across it. “Hello?”

  The nurse walked backward from the check-in window on the other side of the wall. “Hey. Sorry, Nyx. Need to schedule a follow up?”

  “Yeah, Monday to get the staples out. And I need a note for work. She said I can return to light duty.”

  “You got it.” She typed something into her computer while I tapped the news app on my phone.

  The stock market was up, the president was meeting with Australia’s prime minister, and the Yankees beat the Red Sox. Essex liked baseball, but not enough to hang up on me over it.

  The printer hummed and spat out a sheet of a paper. She handed it to me. “Guess they really need you back at work now, huh?”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “Drug thing, all over the news.”

  “What?”

  She pointed to the door. “There’s a TV in the lobby.”

  I walked out and found nurses and patients gathered around the waiting-room television. I joined them and saw a breaking-news story was in progress. Marianne Clarke was reporting live from the elementary school in Seneca Park. The tagline below her name read: One child dead, two in critical condition after accidental drug overdose.

  “A first grader has died from what police believe to be a heroin overdose,” Marianne said. “The six-year-old girl was airlifted to the children’s hospital in Reno, but it was too late. Two other children are fighting for their lives in intensive care.”

  They were the same age as my niece, Milly.

  I felt sick.

  The camera cut to a K-9 unit searching the playground. “The school was immediately closed so police could thoroughly search the campus.”

  My phone rang. Essex. I tapped answer. “Hey.”

  “Did you see it?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I turned away from the group. “Please don’t tell me its heroin mixed with hypnox.”

  “OK. I won’t tell you.”

  “Where’d they get it?”

  “The only kids who know anything are in comas.”

  “Shit.” I rubbed my forehead. “I’ll head that way.”

  “Have you been cleared by medical?”

  “For light duty. She said I could ride along. Can I still ride with you?”

  “Yeah. Where are you now?”

  “Leaving the doctor’s office.” I walked out the door. “Gonna run home and change. Meet you at the office?”

  “I’ll pick you up at home.”

  Here.

  The text from Essex came exactly twenty-one minutes after I’d left the doctor’s office. I walked out of my bedroom to find Bess packing a sandwich into a lunch sack printed with unicorns. I hadn’t seen her when I’d gotten home.

  She wiped her hands on a dishtowel as I fastened my weapons belt. “I figure you’d probably be going to work. Those poor kids. Was it really heroin?”

  “It looks like it.” I nodded toward the bag. “Heading to work?”

  “Yeah, but I’ll eat at the casino.” She handed me the bag. “This is for you. Figured you might not have a chance to stop and eat.”

  My head snapped back. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah.” She thrust the bag closer. “It’s the least I can do. Seriously.”

  I took it, eyed the unicorns and considered the shit I was going to get at work, then smiled. “Thank you. And I really appreciate you buying groceries. Let’s split the cost, OK?”

  “Just like real roomies?”

  I laughed on my way to the door. “Yeah. Just like real roomies.” When I opened it, I saw a box outside. It had “BESS” scrawled in all caps. “You’ve got a package.”

  “Great!”

  I picked it up and handed it to her. “What is it?”

  “A hard drive for the new computer I’m building.”

  “You can do that?” I asked, impressed.

  “Sure. I bought this a while ago, and the mail service forwarded it to my ex’s new apartment.”

  “I’m surprised David gave it back without showing his ass.”

  “Ha. Me too.” She looked at me, puzzled. “Did I tell you his name was David?”

  Shit.

  “Yeah. How else would I know?”

  It took a second for her puzzlement to fade to a smile. “I talk too much.”

  No argument from me. I lifted the bag. “Thanks again for the food.”

  “Be safe, Nyx.”

  “I will.” I let the heavy door close behind me, and I took the steps two at a time to the bottom.

  Essex had backed into the spot beside Bess’s car. His eyes doubled when I opened the door and he spotted the unicorns. “You’re really getting into this trip to the school, aren’t ya?”

  “Shut up,” I said, getting inside.

  “You got a juice box and everything?”

  I scowled. “My roommate packed me something to eat.”

  “Did she put a motivational note in there?”

  “No.” She probably had. “Any news on the heroin?”

  He put the SUV in drive, and we rolled toward the street. “No, but I got a call from O’Malley, who was at the hospital with the families. Looks like the boy is probably brain dead.”

  I closed my eyes and swore. “What about the other one?”

  “She seems to be stable. Pupils are responsive, which is a good sign, but she can’t breathe on her own.”

  I thought about what Elias had said about the woman, Norina Grumley, who’d been inside the Boundary. He’d said Orion had returned her to her body in time. I wondered what that meant for these kids. “They’re still on life support?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  The clock on the dash said 11:17. Luckily, the days were longer this time of year. Eight-ish hours of daylight remained. If one or both of those kids had detached . . .

  I gulped.

  It would be bad news for all of us. I hoped Orion, or whoever on the other side of the Boundary, was aware of what was happening. Maybe I should have stayed at home in bed.

  “What are you thinking?” Essex asked.

  I couldn’t tell Essex what I was thinking.
There was no way he’d believe me—at least not without a lot of convincing, which we didn’t have time for.

  “Just thinking about those poor kids. Where are we headed?”

  “Bees Ferry Road. We got a call from an elderly resident who says she has information on a possible lead.”

  From Essex’s tone, I could tell he didn’t think the lead was credible. “The department has been flooded with calls, hasn’t it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, tsunami-type flooding. Everyone has a shady neighbor or a nephew who’s up to no good. They all think they know where the drugs came from.”

  “What’s narcotics saying?”

  “Gregg says hypnox has never been tied to mass-production operations, here or anywhere else in the world that we know of. In other words, there’s no way to find the source until someone starts talking.”

  “Did the kids find the drugs at the school or did one of them bring it there?”

  He turned his palm up on top of the steering wheel. “No clue, and aside from what we found in Ryder Stone’s chalet, no one else has seen this stuff for a few decades.”

  Wait.

  That wasn’t true.

  “Norina Grumley,” I blurted out.

  “Who?”

  Shit. That wasn’t public knowledge. “A CI told me she might know something about hypnox.” That was sort of true. Elias was like a confidential informant.

  “When have you been talking to CIs? You’re supposed to be on medical leave.”

  “I made some calls. I wonder if she has any kids.”

  Essex either looked perturbed that I was working when I was supposed to be off, or he wasn’t buying my lie. He nodded to the computer mounted on the dash between us. “See if you can find her.”

  I swiveled the laptop toward me and brought up our database. I started typing in the fields. “Norina Grumley, Seneca Park—”

  “How do you know she lives in Seneca Park?”

  Shit. “CI told me,” I lied again.

  Before he could speak, her name popped onto the screen. I read the record aloud. “Boom. Norina Grumley, thirty-one. Two priors for possession and a CPS case number. Address is incomplete though.”

  “How old’s the kid?”

  “It doesn’t say. Who’s leading the investigation?”

  “Right now? Gregg.”

  “Call and ask if she’s talked to Grumley.”

  Essex was clearly skeptical, but he pressed a button on the steering wheel, and the car chimed. “Call Sharon Gregg,” he said.