Soul Thing (The Game of Gods Book 1)

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Soul Thing (The Game of Gods Book 1) Page 15

by Lana Pecherczyk


  “No.” Mr. O’Connor’s veins bulged in his neck and he clenched his fists and opened them. “You can’t come here and expect to see my son after what you’ve done.”

  Kitty stepped out of Alvin’s room, her eyes darting from me to Alvin’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Connor, Alvin has requested you bring that thing he wanted so dearly.” Kitty walked to the couple with such confidence that they immediately obeyed. “Please, we haven’t time to waste. Let’s talk privately.” She placed an arm around each of them and steered them down the corridor.

  I said a silent thank you to my friend’s back and stepped into the room. My stomach rolled. Alvin’s sallow eyes had sunk deeply, his chocolate colored skin looked gray. His head lay at an awkward angle, and tubes stuck into his arms and climbed over his face like an invading vine. The room was thick with that sweet but sour smell associated with sickness, wasting and death.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “WHAT HAS SHE done to you?” I hurried to Alvin’s bedside and gently touched his unshaven jaw.

  It was crazy—his body struggling to breathe, to send blood flowing to his skin, but wasting valuable energy on growing his sharp, black stubble. Petra said she’d given him cancer. If only he could redirect his energy to what mattered most—fighting the disease and healing his body. It just didn’t make sense. I pulled my hand away.

  “I’m so sorry Alvin.”

  “Hi, Roo,” he croaked, eyes flickering open. He grabbed my hand and pulled it back to his face, leaning into the touch. He averted his gaze. “It’s all my fault, Roo. I should’ve known something was up. I mean why would your sister want to kiss me?”

  I flinched. “She kissed you?”

  “I didn’t know she was a witch. I just thought it was my lucky day.” He dropped my hand and looked away, chin trembling and dark eyes glassy. He made a weak effort to pull his blankets up, but it only reached his collarbone. “Talk about girl germs and cooties, I’m never going to kiss a girl again.”

  “What did the doc say?” I pulled up a chair and let my hand rest lightly on his blanket.

  He studied the ceiling and started to say something but coughed—a wet racking sort of cough. When he stopped, his watery eyes fluttered closed, and he draped his arm over his face. His voice was muffled when he said, “They don’t know what she did to me. I just keep bleeding internally. It’s like an aggressively advanced stage of everything cancer.” He looked at me from under his arm, eyes flat. “I don’t know how long I’m going to last, Roo.”

  I picked at the cotton blanket. The hex should have stopped after I’d done what Petra asked. I’d gone outside. That was the fail-safe Cash had mentioned. When I looked up, Alvin had closed his eyes and breathed heavily—asleep.

  Irritation prickled through my body. I needed answers. My touch healed Cash when he’d fitted, but it couldn’t heal my friend. Was it tied to the specifics of the damn hex, or something one Nephilim could only do to another?

  Or something that links Cash and I?

  “I thought hexes expired,” I muttered. “He should be getting better.”

  Despite my unsettled thoughts, my impatience suddenly ebbed away in a wash of calm that didn’t seem to originate from me.

  “Not if he’s cursed,” a velvety female voice said quietly behind me. “Then it’s pretty much never-ending. Witchcraft is unpredictable, so when a witch alters the victim’s DNA by mixing in her own, like a virus or disease, the body can then reject or mutate it.”

  I whirled around and caught the steely gaze of a brunette nurse, knowing instantly she was a witch. The calming wave emanated from her aura didn’t feel natural. It felt forced. My irritation grew. I hated not knowing what these feelings meant. Learning sucked. Why couldn’t I just get to the being-awesome-at-it stage?

  I refocused my attention on the woman pacing around me, trying to figure out why my instinct told me she was a witch, but my emotions eased with her every step. Vibrations came from her—a double frequency. The first was from the tiny aura of the original host, the second belonged to the being that piloted it. Her mismatched aura worked hard at soothing my frustration and distracting me. Her frazzled short brown hair and stained clothes showed that she worked hard caring for other people. I sniffed hoping to catch a whiff of a telltale, smelly sign to confirm my suspicion, but only caught the odor of anti-bacterial hand wash. Wait. There it was, something faint and acrid underneath. It was so light it could be mistaken for anything—vomit, spilled chemicals—anything.

  As she read Alvin’s medical chart, my body tensed. I looked down and found crescent shaped fingernail dents in the yellow leather of my jacket. I sat on my hands and, despite the forced calm, returned my suspicious gaze to the nurse.

  “Hello, Mr. O’Connor. How are we feeling today?” She looked physically drained, but the alleged witch was cheerfully optimistic as she expertly checked the oxygen machine and wrote down the results.

  “Oh you know, the same,” Alvin said, lashes lifting marginally. From his comfortable demeanor, she’d been nursing him for a while. She pulled him forward, listened to his heart and took his blood pressure. The physical exertion knocked him out, and he nodded off again.

  She wasn’t Petra. This witch’s energy felt lighter, calmer and full of kindness. There were no reaching black tentacles in her aura. There was no blackness at all.

  “Who are you?” I whispered loudly. Her brow twitched, but she didn’t answer. I stood up—a full head taller than the witch. I looked down at her and hoped the hatred boring from my eyes was understood. “You need to leave before I call the hunter,” I bluffed. I had no way to contact him but it was worth a shot.

  She swapped the depleted IV fluid bag with a fresh one, humming gently to a song I couldn’t place. When she was done, she turned to me.

  “You can call me Sabina.” She picked up the empty bag and put it in the waste. “We aren’t all like Petra. If you give me a minute, I might be able to help you save your friend.”

  I examined her face and aura, looking for inconsistencies, sudden spikes in frequency I’d learned were indicative of a lie—but she seemed sincere. “I’m listening. You have two minutes.”

  “I know who and what you are, Ms. Urser. Some of us want to move out of the dark ages and into the future and we think you’re the link. In the past, only the fittest witches survived, but at a cost to their humanity. Now we believe we can work together, in harmony with humans, a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps we can regain some of that humanity which was taken from us.” She looked into my eyes, and I was confronted with something I never thought I’d see in a witch—compassion. “I tried to help your friend but Petra is strong, her curse runs deep. Unless you find her Grimoire, you will be fishing for answers in a never-ending sea of possibilities.”

  “What’s a Grimoire?”

  Sabina blinked at me as if I should know what she was talking about. “A Book of Shadows,” she said. “It’s where she keeps her magic secrets and spells, a how-to guide. I’ve heard Petra’s is a real doozy.”

  “Why does she need a magic spell book?” I scoffed, but secretly, my ears had pricked up when she said book. Wasn’t Cash after a book?

  “Not all human brains know the same signals to send to the body. Some people have better eyesight, others are immune to certain viruses, and don’t get me started on animals. Over time, one can gather the secrets hidden in all sorts of bodies. Magic is a word people use when they don’t understand the result or the process, it depends on your perspective. My sources say you cast spells like a witch, but you live in the same body you were born with. To me, that is unheard of—it’s magic—and a secret Petra would kill to add to her book.”

  “That’s not all I can do.” Menace dripped from my words intended as a warning.

  “Oh, I know, dear. Not only are you a witch, but Nephilim too. That is why I believe you can save your friend when I cannot. You can feel the life-force that every living being emanates and you can absorb a witch’s power. Tha
t much is clear from your range of capabilities. I think it’s safe to assume you can absorb life-forces as well, if you put your will to it.”

  I bolted from my seat. How did she know about me, and, was that even possible? I narrowed my eyes. She’d said sources… Who knew about my sixth sense?

  “How do you know what I can or cannot do?”

  “I knew you would come to see your friend.” She fussed with the corners of the bed. “I’ve been watching you for a while. I know what Petra has done to you but, more importantly, I can teach you how to use your abilities so she can’t hurt you. I was a carer in my original life and it’s what I do. Like I said, it’s important to me to prove that all witches aren’t the same.”

  “But, I don’t want to absorb Alvin’s life-force. It will kill him.”

  “No, you misunderstand me. You can absorb from your surroundings and use it to power your healing hex.” She walked to the door of the hospital room and touched the handle. “When I open this, I want you to start your hex. The open door will give you access to life energies beyond this room. I will make sure nobody interrupts.”

  She looked back at me and her aura was so gentle, I almost believed she was human.

  “But I don’t know how to do a healing hex. I’ve only done little things, changed my friend’s hair color, paint my fingernails. That’s a bit different from curing cancer.” Adrenaline spiked through my body. I wasn’t ready for this. My mind scrambled to remember anything else I’d ever influenced. There were the rippling shapes in the water when I was little, but that was so, so different. This was life. I touched my lips remembering their unwanted color change. “What if I break him?”

  “You won’t. A kiss is the quickest, surest way to transfer a hex. So when you kiss him, cast your energy into his and direct it to heal and replenish what has been lost. The body remembers what it once had. Focus on what you know to be wrong and direct it to be right. You can use some of my energy if you need to, but I’m sure you’ll find it easy since you’ve done it before.” Her energy soothed me and her eyes softened when she saw my pain and confusion. “The energy must call to you. Think of the moment you first felt it. Did it want to be touched? A witch can extend the energy of her own soul to manipulate the world around her, but you should be able to go one step further and use the energy of others as your own. Take only what you need and remember, you are in control.”

  I did remember the first time. It was at The Cauldron when the collar had come off. The world felt like it pushed in on me. It was more than wanting to be touched, it forced itself on me. It had been insistent at the start then… I frowned, thinking of my explosion of nothing over Tommy. I couldn’t control it and Tommy hadn’t been hurt. Could I pull that energy in again without the risk of it consuming me?

  “All I ask is that you remember my name and that we aren’t all bad.” She smiled, and I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust her. She moved to open the door.

  My stomach twisted as I perched on the bed. I essentially had to wing it. The stale smell of Alvin’s breath hit me and I almost changed my mind, but the thought of never seeing his goofy grin again put me back on course. I leaned in, angling my mouth under the tubes in his nose and hesitated.

  He groaned and rolled his head to the side.

  It was time. I grabbed his face, closed my eyes and planted a wet kiss on his mouth while thinking healthy, happy thoughts and trying to ignore the scratchy stubble and sickly taste. I opened my senses to feel the energy signatures buzzing all along the corridor. I had a moment of uncertainty, not sure I had a right to siphon off someone’s life-force without their permission. But I pushed away the self-doubt. There was no telling what dark thoughts could do in the middle of a hex. I would count to ten.

  At two, I used my tongue to open his lips and felt around the inside of his mouth. The success of the hex depended on mixing my DNA with his. That meant the sloppiest, wettest kiss I could muster. With difficulty, I ignored the need for mouthwash.

  At five, I relaxed and focused on Alvin’s energy, urging it to be strong and giving it purpose. I drew on any life-force in the area. My strategy was to grab a little from many, lessening the effect on each. I took a trickle here and a sliver there, praying I didn’t take any from someone who needed it to live. We were in a hospital after all.

  At seven, I spoke silently to Alvin. “Fix your body, be the best version you can be.”

  At eight, I realized he kissed me back.

  I sat back so suddenly my head rocked. The little bugger was grinning from ear to ear. His skin was flushed with rosy goodness. I rubbed my neck and frowned.

  “I don’t get it,” Alvin said. “You never wanted to go out with me, and then you go ahead and give me the best goodbye kiss in the world. I don’t get it.” He scratched his stubble. “It was a bit sloppy but I wouldn’t say no to another. I officially take back my no-girl cooties policy.”

  I stifled a groan. He had the wrong idea.

  But then… Warmth bloomed inside me and spread to my toes when I realized Alvin’s eyes had cleared up. They were no longer cloudy and flat, but crisply focused and a rich brown, the whites were white, not yellow. My entire body lightened, and I hugged him tight. So far so good.

  I pulled back, but he grabbed my shoulder and sat up. “What was that all about? C’mon, I’m sick, not stupid.”

  “I thought you were very ill and it may have been my last chance.” I cleared my throat and stood up. I waved my hands dramatically over his body. “Obviously, you just pretended to pass out. Must be another of your badly timed jokes because you look totally fine to me.”

  He frowned and patted down his body. “Now that you mention it, I do feel better. I think your visit has done me the world of good, but”—he coughed a few times and pounded his chest as though weak—“I still have a long way to go. Maybe another one of those will help.” He pointed to his pouting lips.

  Kitty entered the room looking flustered. “Some guy just fainted in the hallway, I think it’s time for us to go.”

  Then she caught sight of Alvin and rushed over to him, showering kisses on his face. When she pulled away, little red smudges covered his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. The look he gave her was pure love.

  The commotion in the hall grew louder. I didn’t want to be seen here when Alvin’s miracle was noticed.

  “Time to go, Kitty. See you later Alvin. I’ll call next time so I’m not offending any of your visitors.” I patted him in on the shoulder in a sisterly way, grabbed my jacket and made to move.

  “Please, anytime. I feel like I should be giving you the key to my house or something after that display.”

  Kitty’s brows shot up. I gave her a look and stepped into the hall. I heard Alvin ask her to send someone in with steak and fries on her way out. The hex had worked. I could feel it in my gut. I covered my mouth to hide the smile.

  “He’s okay,” Kitty said as she joined me. “Whatever you did, it worked.”

  I nodded. Sabina had been right. I wanted to thank her and find out more, but we had to leave. Medical staff rushed about seeing to patients who had suddenly fainted or taken ill. My actions had obviously created some waves.

  With Kitty close behind, I hurried out of the building, trying to forget the look from a man slouched on the floor. He had held an oxygen mask to his face as he stared at me with leaking eyes.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I BREATHED IN the late afternoon air hoping to get a little rejuvenation from my recent healing stint. The hex had sapped my energy. I chewed my nails and stewed over my actions. I’d been worried I wouldn’t be able to control the borrowed energy, but I had. What I hadn’t planned on was the guilt that pestered my conscience like a fly. Had I been right to hurt a number of innocents to save one?

  When my concentration drew back to the hospital parking lot, I noticed a small crowd of people standing beside a car. Two of the silhouettes looked familiar—Steve’s parents. When I looked their way, they ducked their
heads and disappeared into the vehicle with the rest of their motley crew.

  I shrugged off the scrutiny and concentrated on my ticket out of there—my bike. But when I spotted it, I felt like dropping to my knees. The shiny black paint was riddled with red graffiti that said: “Die witch.”

  Tires screeched on the bitumen behind me and I smelled rubber. The faces who had stared at me a moment ago, drove past yelling obscenities and waving fists. Yep, Meerkat Maggie’s white face floated like a ghost through the back tinted window. Someone threw an empty can of soda at us and it clanked to the ground. Of course. Could my day get any worse?

  Kitty picked it up and expertly raced after the car in her heels. “Hey!” she yelled and threw the can, missing the car by inches as it revved out of the lot.

  Blood pounded in my ears, my vision blurred and I felt like the sun had gone behind a cloud. I dropped my jacket and crouched to steady myself, blinking through tears. It was all too much—their hatred, my guilt, and now this. They had defiled my baby, my hard earned pride and joy. I heard the crunch of steps behind me as Kitty returned but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the damage. I ran my fingers over the wet surface. My trembling fingers came away red, like I’d dipped them in blood.

  “I’m sorry, Roo. Maybe if we hurry, we can wash it off when we get to work.” Kitty didn’t sound convinced.

  Vaguely, I registered the sound of more tires crunching closer but I was lost, riffling through the back drawers of my mind, looking for a solution. Over and over, I tried desperately to come up with something that made the sight in front of me not real.

  Remember the water? Remember how I showed you how to make it ripple?

  The voice in my head stirred memories that flashed across my vision. I kept returning to that one event that turning point in my life. I saw my childish, stubby fingers in puddles of water, watching the ripples become stars, hearts, squares. Then I thought about Petra sticking me to the wall of The Cauldron, and what Sabina said about a witch extending her life-force to move things. It was all coming together.

 

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