by Mary Lindsey
I looked at the door and moved closer to the porch. “You’re scaring me, Zak.”
Grabbing my shoulders, he lowered his face even with mine. I could smell alcohol on his breath. “Do you think I’m gonna hurt you? I’d never hurt you, Lenzi. But you hurt me.”
I stood still, not wanting to provoke him. “I didn’t mean to.”
He loosened his grip a little. “You didn’t call like you said you would. You didn’t answer when I called you. You didn’t return my texts.”
“My phone was off.”
He shoved me away. “Not good enough.”
I caught my balance and ran to the porch, grabbing the doorknob when I got there. “This isn’t going to work, Zak.” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Damn right it’s not. He’s gone. Tell me he’s gone.” He stomped up the steps to the porch.
I held my hand up. “Stop!” He froze on the top step. “We’re in different places right now. This isn’t working for me. We—”
Before I could finish my sentence, he stormed down the stairs. “No!” he shouted. “You’re not breaking up with me. I won’t let you do this.”
Mom pulled the door open and stepped outside. “What’s happening out here?”
“It’s okay, Mom. He’s leaving.”
“Nothing’s happening,” Zak yelled, slamming his fist on the hood of his car. “Nothing’s happening. You’re mine, and he’s gone. Right, Lenzi?”
“You and I are finished. It’s over, Zak,” I called, but he’d slammed the door and revved his engine before I could get the words out.
TWENTY-ONE
The next day, Alden picked me up at school for my ten o’clock “doctor’s appointment.”
I slid into the passenger seat and patted my thighs to invite Spook onto my lap. “Thanks, Alden. You saved me from a trig quiz.” Spook gave up her perch between Alden and the steering wheel and leapt across the console to me.
“At least one good thing will come out of it.” Alden sighed. He seemed uneasy about this meeting, which worried me. “It’ll be okay, Lenzi. I don’t mean to be negative. I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep. I had to close Georgia’s file so that we would have the points before today’s meeting.”
“I could have snuck out and helped you,” I said, stroking Spook under her chin.
“Speakers don’t do paperwork.”
“Oh, that’s right. Our subordinates do the mundane tasks. We’re above all that,” I said.
“You didn’t get much sleep either, did you, Lenzi?”
It was impossible to fall asleep. I kept alternating between hearing Zak’s angry words in my head and the memory of Alden’s kisses playing over and over like a continuous video loop. “I’m fine, Alden. I just hate you bearing the burden of everything. You took the blame for keeping me out late last night. You’re taking the blame for the fact I haven’t resolved enough cases. It’s unfair.”
“It’s my job.”
“You have a crappy job.” I leaned the seat further back and Spook stretched out across my lap.
“I happen to think my job is marvelous.” He cleared his throat and turned his attention to the road when I caught him sneaking a look at my legs.
Not changing out of my school uniform had been a good choice.
He pulled onto the freeway access road. “Any word from Zak today? He was pretty mad last night.”
“How did you know that?”
He opened a compartment of his console and pulled out an iPod. “I was there. Your soul was practically screaming. I wanted to intervene, but I’m not supposed to interfere with your outside relationships.”
I shifted Spook so her toenails didn’t dig into my leg. “There is no relationship.”
“You might want to tell Zak that, because he thinks otherwise.” He plugged his iPod into a port on the dash. “Pick the tunes, Lenzi.”
His face revealed nothing, but there was a jealous tinge to his voice. I smiled and selected an album by Coldplay. When I shifted in my seat so that I was angled toward Alden, Spook grumbled.
I didn’t want to think or talk about Zak anymore. “Tell me about Maddi and Race,” I said, previewing his playlists on the screen.
“What do you want to know?”
“How long have you known them?”
He switched lanes to get around a truck. “I have no idea. Past life memories are like childhood memories—the older they are, the less clear and abundant they are. There are lots of things I don’t remember.”
“Where are Maddi and Race’s Speakers?”
“Race has a female Speaker who’s always decades older than he is. They don’t get along at all. They liked each other at first, I guess. Maybe too much. They made some bad choices and have suffered the consequences for generations. She works in the IC statistics department. She’s some kind of math whiz. They’re still paired by the IC each cycle, but haven’t worked together for a long time. Not sure why the IC doesn’t reassign them, but it frees her up to crunch numbers and makes Race a substitute Protector, which is an important job. He fills in for Protectors who are sick or injured and helps with resolutions that require more than one Protector.”
“More than one Protector?”
He glanced over at me. “Yeah. Exorcisms take two. Someone has to enter the body of the Speaker and another the body of the possessed when the demon makes his move.”
I gasped in horror.
“Don’t worry. You won’t be dealing with one for a long time. The IC assigns exorcisms. We can pass until you feel ready. Besides, they’re very rare.”
“Whew. What about Maddi?”
He smiled. “Maddi is another story altogether. Her Speaker is a female, which is unusual. Somehow, their souls are strongly linked. They get along very well, despite the obstacles. Her relationship with Race has helped defuse some of the social tension.”
I set the iPod down on the console. “What tension?”
“Not everyone is so accepting of two women who are together all the time. Race hanging out with them makes it a little better. Some people still lift eyebrows.”
“Oh, come on, Alden. We live in a pretty liberal society. People don’t pay attention to that kind of thing.” I rubbed Spook’s ear and she turned her head so I’d rub the other.
“Wanna bet?”
I turned the volume on the stereo down a little. “Why haven’t I met Maddi’s Speaker?”
Alden passed another truck and pulled back into the outside lane. “She hasn’t emerged yet. Race and Maddi usually hang out together until she arrives, which could be any day now.”
Spook lifted her head and I scratched under her chin while she made happy grunts. “Do Speakers and Protectors always come back paired with the same person?”
“Yes. Our souls are branded when we’re indoctrinated. The soul brand enables the IC to track us once we emerge.”
“Oh, my God. My soul is branded? Like tattooed or something?”
He smiled. “Something like that. You and I have the same mark.”
“I don’t have any tattoos or marks on me.”
He pointed at his neck. I reached over and moved his hair aside revealing a discoloration just under his ear similar to one I was born with. My mom called it a café au lait spot because it was the color of coffee and cream. “That’s a birthmark.”
“It’s a soul brand. You have one exactly like mine.”
I moved his hair again, and he tilted his head to give me a better look. It was in the same place as mine, but it looked different. Mine was a nondescript blotch, while his was a distinct crescent shape. “Mine doesn’t look like this. It’s an amoebashaped blob.”
He winked at me. “Have you looked at it since your birthday?”
“No.” I pulled down the sun visor and opened the mirror. I craned my neck to get a look at it. “Whoa! It changed shape.” I ran my fingers over the perfect crescent just like his.
“It did that when your soul matured enough for you to begin s
peaking for the Hindered. That’s when you began transmitting. That’s how I found you and how the IC knew you were emergent.”
“Man. Talk about Big Brother. How do they brand souls?”
“It’s a closely guarded secret passed through oral tradition and performed in a closed ritual. Only the oldest of our kind participate. Imagine what would happen if immortality fell into the hands of the wrong people.”
“So, it’s like magic?”
“Magic or miracle, I suppose. As long as the mark is whole and you keep your soul in your body at the time of death, you’ll recycle.”
I patted Spook’s shoulders. “Do you remember your soul being branded?”
He shook his head. “No. The oldest memories fade.”
“I think I liked it better when I thought I was crazy.”
He chuckled.
The stitches had become itchy and had been bothering me since my shower that morning. I shifted again, and Spook made a grumpy grunting sound. “Are Maddi and Race together?”
“They’re just really close friends—like brother and sister. It’s odd for Protectors to pair up. It’s discouraged by the Speakers.”
“Why?”
“It distracts them and makes them less effective,” he replied pointedly.
“Ouch. I fell right into that one, huh?”
He smiled. “Yes, you did.”
Wow, the stitches were bugging me. I scratched under my sternum. “So are they in school or anything?”
He nodded. “This is the first cycle I’ve been younger than them. They’re freshmen in college this year. They both finished Protector training and wanted to keep up appearances. Maddi’s living with her folks, and Race is in a dorm.”
He reached over and stopped me from scratching my abdomen again. “I need to see that.”
“It’s fine. It’s just itchy.”
He pulled off at a gas station. “Let me see it, please.”
I lifted the bottom of my shirt enough to expose the stitches.
“You’re all healed. I need to take them out before you irritate the area. It won’t be as itchy if I remove them.”
“Inside the car?”
“Would you prefer to do it on the hood?”
“No.”
Spook growled low in her throat. She stood up and raised her hackles.
I sat upright, trying not to gag. “Do you smell that, Alden? There’s a horrible odor. It smells like . . . death.” I twisted to look into the backseat. Nothing, of course. “Who’s here? What do you want?”
“Welcome back, my love.” The voice was a soft whisper. I could hardly make out the words.
The odor was so bad it burned my nose, and I had to hold my breath. It smelled like rotten meat. Alden sat still, not taking his eyes off me. When I finally took a breath, the stench was too much. I threw open the car door and vomited on the pavement.
Alden ran around to my side of the car and helped me out. Spook jumped into the backseat and barked ferociously. Alden opened the back door and yanked her out by the collar. “Stop it, Spook. It will hurt you. Quiet.”
The little dog fell silent at Alden’s command.
I began retching again. Alden pulled my hair back and rubbed my shoulders. After I’d finished, he led me, along with Spook, away from the car. My stomach was cramping so hard, I couldn’t stand up straight. I leaned over with my hands on my knees. “I’m so sorry, Alden. I don’t know what happened. What was that smell?”
“It’s a Malevolent, Lenzi. They sometimes put off foul odors to frighten people.”
“It worked. Did you smell it?”
“No. Protectors are immune.” He picked Spook up.
“You’re lucky.” I stood up straight and took a couple of deep breaths. Whew. “Do regular people smell it?”
“Sometimes. Some people are more sensitive to the paranormal than others. Children in particular are receptive to them. You are far more sensitive to them than any regular person. Do you still sense it?”
I shook my head. “No. I think it’s gone.” I looked down at my blouse. “Yuck. I’m glad I brought a change of clothes.”
“In your backpack?” he asked as he passed Spook to me. I nodded. He walked to the car and pulled the pack out of the backseat. “We caught a break this time,” he said. “Sometimes they tear up everything in sight. It didn’t do a thing to my car.”
He lifted Spook out of my arms and escorted me to the bathroom inside the gas station convenience store, which was a private, one-person affair with a plastic, fold-down baby-changing table. He placed Spook on the floor and commanded her to stay. He told me to go ahead and change while he moved the car to a parking place, instructing me to lock the door and verify who was outside before opening it.
After rinsing out my mouth, I pulled off my clothes, grateful the mess wasn’t worse. I slipped into tan slacks and a dark brown sweater from my backpack. I had picked the outfit hoping it would make me look sort of professional for the IC representative.
Three sharp knocks on the door were followed by three more. I slid the lock over and opened the door. Alden glared at me from the threshold, gray eyes like storm clouds.
“What?”
“You didn’t identify who was knocking,” he admonished me.
“Sorry. I’m new at this. Is there a code word or something?”
He pulled the baby-changing table down to horizontal and set his medical bag and a brown paper grocery sack on it. “No. If we agree on a code, the Malevolent could hear it. You need to ask questions no one else could answer.”
“Can’t bogeymen just walk through walls?”
“Yes, but if they want to hurt you badly or kill you, they’ll possess another person to do it. That’s why Protectors are trained in physical combat. When demons get vengeful, it gets ugly.”
“Sorry. I’ll be more careful.”
He smiled and brushed my hair behind my shoulders. “Are you feeling better? Do you need anything?”
“No. I’m fine now. Thanks.”
“How about this?” He reached into the brown paper bag and pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste.
“You’re my hero!” I ripped the toothbrush out of the plastic wrapping and unboxed the tube of toothpaste. While I brushed, he picked up my discarded uniform and sealed it in a plastic bag he had removed from his medical bag. This guy was too much. He treated me like I was valuable. Like I mattered. My heart did a fluttery little dance that made me want to dance too.
“It’s my job,” he said with a wink.
When we returned to the car after Alden had removed my stitches with a funny-looking pair of scissors, there was no trace of the odor. Spook watched me protectively from Alden’s lap while I sipped ginger ale. Alden had purchased it in the convenience store when he bought the toothbrush and toothpaste. He was right: the ginger ale settled my stomach.
As we reached the causeway bridge to Galveston Island, the terrain turned into coastal wetlands. The Texas City refineries puffed clouds like stalled steam engines off to the east. Building the huge expanse of bridge to get from the mainland to the island must have been a giant undertaking. I closed my eyes and ran Alden’s memory of the storm through my brain. The bridge washed out and all those people died because they were trapped. Poor Alden. The survivors probably had it worse than those who perished.
“What did the Malevolent say?” Alden asked as we entered Galveston.
I shuddered when I remembered the ominous whisper. “It welcomed me back. Mainly, it just stank.”
His brow furrowed. “What were its exact words? This is really important Lenzi.”
I reached across to stroke Spook’s head. “He didn’t really say much. He just whispered, ‘Welcome back, my love.’”
“Damn!” He whacked the steering wheel with his palm.
Spook startled and crossed over to my lap. “What?”
He shook his head. “It’s just bad timing, that’s all.” He took a deep breath through his nose and loosened his gr
ip on the wheel. “We need to be careful. I have no idea what he’ll do. You can’t leave my sight, not even for a second, until he makes his intentions clear. You can’t even go to the bathroom without me. Do you understand?”
“That’s pretty dramatic, Alden.”
“My job is to keep you alive. You talk about how oppressed and subjugated I am. This is where the tables turn, Lenzi. In order for me to serve you, you have to do what I say.”
I could tell by his tone of voice he wasn’t kidding. Maybe the stinky thing was really dangerous. “Okay.”
He glanced at the clock on his dash. “Even with the pit stop, we made good time. We have almost half an hour before we meet with the ICDC rep. How about a walk along the beach?”
“No!” My volume surprised me.
“You don’t like the beach, do you, Lenzi?” he asked as he turned onto Seawall Boulevard.
“No. I can’t stand it. I’ve never liked it.” I peered with dread out my window at the rolling surf.
He glanced at me briefly. “That makes sense, I suppose.”
“Why?”
He pulled into a parallel parking place at the seawall. “Because you died here.”
TWENTY-TWO
Alden snapped a leash onto Spook’s collar, led her around the front of the parked car, and opened my door. No way. I was not getting out of the car. He evidently picked up on that because he leaned against the car and stared out at the surf.
It was a clear, sunny day. The waves were tiny—less than two feet tall—rolling in even, benign bands to the shoreline. We were parked at the seawall over fifteen feet above the beach, and still I was frightened.
“You know this seawall didn’t used to be here,” Alden said. “Before it was built, the whole island was at sea level.”
“Yeah, you told me about it when we met. Hobbit mausoleums, remember?”
He chuckled. “I remember that conversation well. They started building this seawall two years after the Great Storm. It took that long to clean the place up and settle on a construction strategy.”
I stared down at the wall. It had a curved face on the Gulf side similar to the concrete barriers on a freeway, only huge. Behind it, the land was the same level as the top of the wall.
