I shivered. “For what purpose?”
She looked at me and whispered softly, “To turn him Dark.”
With her words, my body turned to ice.
***
Belle had shown up shortly after and we loaded Jimmy into the minivan as gently as possible. He groaned and his coloring paled even further as positioned him in the middle row of seats.
I gently helped him lay his body down against the seat. His skin was burning.
Jess took the front seat and I curled myself up on the floor, so I could watch my love.
“I think he has a fever,” I said as Belle put the vehicle into drive and we headed for Will’s. “He's out of that house now, why is he getting worse?”
“It's probably the symbols,” Jess replied tiredly. “If they're spells, then they're already in his system.”
I turned my attention to Jimmy. His forehead broke out in a sweat and he grimaced. He hadn't opened his eyes since Belle had shown up on the street.
“Jimmy,” I said softly, “Tell me what's happening.”
His mouth twisted and his body stiffened. “Hurts,” he said, his teeth grinding as he spoke.
“What hurts?” I asked. “Please tell me.”
His eyes burst open and he looked up at me angrily. “It all hurts, okay!” He shouted.
I slunked back, my heart shredded by his outburst. I knew he didn't mean it. I knew it was only the pain talking. But it still affected my feelings.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “We're going to get help soon.”
“Nicole will be there,” Belle announced. “We've got everyone showing up. Odie, of course, had to sneak out, so she'll have to be home by dawn.”
I nodded in thankfulness. “Nicole will know what to do, right?” I asked.
Jimmy writhed in pain as his body was wracked with a spasm. I placed my arms on his shoulders, whispering my helpless endearments of love and how it would all be over soon. He never acknowledged it. The wave of pain was too much.
When it subsided, he sighed and fell asleep.
“I don't understand any of this,” I said. “He's getting worse, the pain is too strong.”
“She summoned pain for him,” Jess said wearily. “As well as fear and hate, all the things that rule the Dark. He can’t fight this on his own. It's going to take a lot of light magic to undo what she did.”
I gulped down my fear, watching the face of the one I loved.
Please don't let me get him back only to lose him again, I prayed.
***
At long last we arrived at Will’s house. He and the others were already there, waiting for Belle’s van to pull up. They stood on the front lawn of the large, one story brick home, congregating together as we approached.
I was so thankful for such amazing friends.
Will helped us lift Jimmy out of the van, which wasn't easy with his tall frame, but somehow we managed it. We carried him inside, allowing Will to guide us to through the house to a bedroom in the back. There, we set him down on the bed, and everyone hovered around to observe him.
“Jesus,” Will gasped. “Who did that to him?” He pointed to the designs carved into Jimmy’s skin.
“It's a long story,” Jess said.
“So, this is all because of witchcraft, right?” He asked curiously.
Odie sidled up beside him, and she wrapped her arms around his middle. Her eyes couldn't stop staring at Jimmy with fear. Will lovingly stroked her head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Basically,” Devon said. “I guess you already know all about that then, right?” She asked, throwing a stern look at Odie.
Will nodded and ran a hand through his spiky black hair before returning it to Odie’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know what you all are.”
“Seriously, Odie?” Erica remarked in disgust. “First rule of witch club- don't talk about witch club!”
Odie rolled her eyes. “He's my boyfriend. We don't have secrets.”
“But we do!” Cindy exclaimed.
Nicole stepped forward. “It's a good thing Odie included Will,” she said wisely, “Otherwise we would have nowhere else to go right now. Prudence will be searching each of our homes tonight, looking for Jimmy.” She turned to Will. “We are thankful for your hospitality.”
He shrugged. “No prob. But, my folks will be home Sunday so whatever you guys are going to do with him,” he nodded toward the prone figure on the bed, “you have to do before then.”
Nicole nodded. “Thank you.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” he said, “We'll be in the living room.”
He turned away with Odie, who reached out and gave me a squeeze of comfort as they exited the room. Odie closed the door behind them, giving me a soft smile of support. I nodded at her, letting her know it was going to be alright.
I had no idea if it would be, or not. But I prayed it would.
“Okay then!” Nicole declared. “We have a lot of work to do. Witches! Have you brought everything?”
The Pastels began pulling small velvet bags from their purses and pockets as I watched in curiosity.
“What's all that?” I asked.
“Herbs for potions,” she explained. “We have to fight these Dark summoning spells, and soon. He's already in the throes of the first symbol. Pain. Fear will come next. We have to be ready to subdue him when it hits.”
Devon gathered all the little bags from the others and set them on the top of the nearby dresser. From her large tote bag, she pulled small, colorful vials of liquids and oils, lining them up with the velvet pouches.
“Tell me how to help,” I said.
Nicole stepped across the room to me and gripped my shoulders.
“You want to help?” She asked.
I nodded. “More than anything.”
With her mouth in a firm line, she said, “Then leave this room.”
I stared, uncomprehending.
“Leave,” she repeated firmly, “Go sit with Odie and Will, and we will come get you when everything is well again.”
I raised my chin in defiance. “No.”
She sighed. “You will not be able to handle the things that will take place here in the next several hours. He's going to go through each and every element that she spelled him with. Pain is the first. He's in great physical pain right now, so much so that he's unconscious.” She gestured to him with her arm. “Next will be fear. When he awakens, he's going to be struck with irrational fear. It might manifest in his vision, and cause him to see things which aren't there. Or, it might manifest as a memory, a bad dream, or a phobia. He will do and say things he does not mean because the fear will be uncontrollable. It will be as if he is a small child again, afraid of the boogeyman but much, much worse. Are you prepared to see him like that, Rosalind?” Without waiting for answer, she continued. “And what happens when he's hit with the spell of hate, and he screams at you, wishing for your death because he hates you so much? Or actually attacks you, physically? Are you prepared for that, as well?”
Everyone was still, watching me as I processed her words.
I raised my chin further and stared deep into her eyes.
“Jimmy is my true love,” I replied coldly. “If he goes through this, I go through this. I’m. Not. Leaving.”
She sighed, and lowered her gaze. “Don't say I didn't warn you,” she said sadly.
Chapter 38
~Jimmy~
The sound of hushed voices permeated my subconscious, but the pain I floated in made me unable to open my eyes. I drifted up, out of a sea of blackness and agony that I could not fully escape from. In an attempt to distract myself from what felt like shards of both fire and ice being sliced across my skin, I concentrated on the voice of my beloved, my sweetheart, my girl.
“Jimmy’s my true love. If he goes through this, I go through this,” she said.
I didn't know what she meant by that. I had no idea of what was happening, but if she was choosing to experience the same pain I w
as, I knew I couldn't let her do that.
It was crippling.
I had to figure out a way to wake myself up, to open my eyes and my mouth, and get her away from me. Order her to, if necessary.
Christ, she could be so stubborn. She'd never go away unless I made her.
Soon, I could hear the voices of The Pastels as they hovered near me, and I felt a soothing touch that seemed to cool the burning of my flesh.
“Sedatus,” a female voice said, and I recognized the word instantly.
Sedate. Calm. Soothe.
Immediately I went back into the sea of pain, blissfully swallowed by the darkness once again.
***
Once again, the sound of a voice forced me to consciousness. But this time, it was not the voice of my love.
“Worthless. Absolutely worthless.”
My body stirred and I realized the pain was gone. I sighed in sweet, blessed relief. Until the voice came at me once again.
“So pathetic. What a waste of human life you are.”
Confused, I forced my eyes to open.
I was lying in a strange room, in a strange bed. The furnishings were pleasant and neutral, nothing fancy, but it was a completely foreign space to me.
Shadows moved about the room, their forms feminine and close. They were seemingly familiar somehow, but I couldn't place their shapes.
“Such a disgrace,” the voice said once again. I raised my head and looked to the foot of the bed.
Prudence Evans.
“Where am I?” I asked as the disorientation forced my head back to the pillow.
“Nowhere special,” she said coldly, then laughed. “That's rather fitting for you, isn't it?”
I flexed my shoulders as a shadow approached me. It came closer and closer, and I shrank away from it.
“What are these shadows?” I asked fearfully.
She stepped around the bed and walked slowly to me, bending low until her face was directly before mine.
“They're your worst nightmare,” she whispered.
I gasped and pushed myself away from her, distancing us.
“Where am I!” I demanded once again.
She cackled a vile laugh, and pointed to one of the shadows.
“Look at that one,” she ordered. I obeyed.
The outline was a woman, with obviously thick hair, wearing a long, flowing skirt.
“That's your mother,” she said happily. “She isn't happy you've come back to life, Jimmy. She wants you dead, like you used to be. Dead, like you deserve to be.”
I stared in horror at the shadow that seemed so close to me. From it came the faint, muffled voice of a woman saying my name.
“Nooooooo,” I whispered in terror. “Get away!”
I wrenched my body beneath the blankets and covered my head with the pillow. If I couldn't see her, she wasn't there. She couldn't hurt me. She wanted me dead, Prudence said so. But if I stayed hidden, she couldn't find me. She couldn't kill me.
She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't.
The touch of a hand on my shoulder from above the bedding made me flinch.
“Shh,” Prudence comforted. “It's only me. Here, sit up,” she removed the blankets from my head and helped me up to sit. Sitting beside me on the bed, she leaned in close to my ear. “There's only one way to stop her from hurting you. You have to kill her, before she can kill you.”
I stared up into her compassionate eyes. Her soft hand stroked the side of my cheek as I stared. Her eyes held the truth of my circumstances and desperate fear engulfed me. I nodded. I had to kill the shadow figure, my mother, before she killed me.
“I don't know how to kill someone,” I admitted in shame. My voice was so small, like a child’s.
“Aww my son,” she said in pride, “My true son!” She beamed at me. The motherly recognition made me so happy, all I wanted to do was please her. “You kill her with your hands, like this.” She placed her hands on my wrists, and raised them. Using her fingers, she positioned my fingers to curve inwards. “You place your hands on her throat, and then you squeeze. You do not stop until I tell you to.”
A sob escaped me as I realized it was kill or be killed. Another sob left me. And another.
“I don't want to be dead again,” I cried as hot tears ran endlessly down my face. “I have to live. I have to….”
Prudence leaned her head against mine as my hands stayed in the choke position.
“My son,” she said so lovingly, “I don't want you to die. Please don't let her take you away from me. Not now that we've found each other.”
I leaned my head into hers as the fear of dying again ate away my insides.
“Parker was a poor excuse for a son,” she said. “But you, you're so much better than he was. You've been dead, you know all the mysteries of the world. You know what it's like to come back to the living. And now, you can have a true mother.” She turned her gaze to mine and smiled. “You can have the love of a mother, at long last. But first, you have to kill her.”
I wept pitifully and nuzzled my face into her neck.
“My mother,” I sobbed.
“I will be your mother now,” she said. “Just get rid of your old one first, or she will end you.”
The fear of death wrapped itself around my spine, freezing me in its grasp. My body panicked as I couldn't find a breath.
No, no, I don't want to die again!
The shadowy form came closer to me, leaning over the bed and I almost thought it said, “Fight it!” But the sound of my blood pounding through my veins drowned it out.
My hands, of their own accord, shot out quickly and snaked around the neck of the shadow.
“Yes!” Prudence shouted in glee. “Squeeze, Jimmy! Squeeze!”
I did as commanded, my entire body controlled by the fear of returning to my ghost form once again. I couldn't do that again. I wanted to live. I had to kill to live. I had to.
“Harder!” She cried in joy, clapping her hands. “Keep squeezing until the bones crack!”
My arms shook with the force as I continued to sob with my fear.
Then suddenly, a blast of white light shot at me from behind the shadowy figure and once again, I returned to the blackness.
Chapter 39
~Roz~
We watched in horror as Jimmy strangled Nicole, sobbing and crying and speaking to another presence we couldn't see.
“Sisto!” Cindy shouted from the far end of the room, and a spark of light traveled from her hands to Jimmy, hitting him in the chest.
He fell back onto the bed with a sigh as Nicole coughed and sputtered and fought to breathe, her face a terrifying shade of purple. The Pastels rushed to her, aiding her to stand as she began to crumple to the floor. They walked her to a chair and set her down as she took a much needed breath.
I watched Jimmy closely, seeing his chest move up and down as he breathed. He didn't move again, he was in another deep sleep.
“That was fear?” I asked the room, horrified.
Devon ran from the room and returned seconds later with a pitcher of water and a glass. She quickly poured a small amount of the cool, clear liquid into the glass and then helped Nicole take a few sips as the older woman patted her hand lovingly.
“Thank you,” she rasped.
Devon nodded, then turned to me.
“That was fear,” she confirmed.
The enormity of the situation hit me. My legs buckled and I slid to the floor.
My poor Jimmy, my poor Jimmy, he'll never forgive himself for this.
All of us were silent, unable to voice the fear that ran deeply within the room. Erica stared at Jimmy in shock. Belle stood to the side, her arms wrapped around her chest as if she was freezing. Cindy looked down at the floor, almost as if she couldn't look at any of us. Jess cried softly as she moved her attention from Jimmy to Nicole, back to Jimmy again. Devon remained at Nicole’s side, rubbing the woman's back to comfort her.
“Someone say something,” I be
gged.
But no one did. Everyone was too shocked by the magnitude of what had almost happened. We stayed in the miserable silence until a soft moan came from the body on the bed.
I pushed myself off the floor and rushed to him.
“Jimmy?” I whispered, lowering myself beside him and stroking his hair away from his face.
His fever had broken, I noted in relief. His skin color was almost back to normal. Another good sign. The carving on his flesh that had symbolized pain and fear had disappeared, leaving a faint, pink reminder in its place.
One down. Three to go.
I mentally ticked pain/fear off the list of summoning spells. The next one was anger. Then, loss. And finally, hate.
I watched his face as he slept peacefully. Jimmy had been through so much at the hands of Prudence Evans, and now he had to endure this. It was so unfair. Didn't he deserve a chance at normalcy? Or at the very least, happiness?
Normalcy was quite a bizarre thing, when you thought about it. For some people it meant a home and a job, maybe a kid or two. For others, it meant hiding themselves from the world. For some, it meant burying their heads in the sand and denying anything different or unusual that came into their lives.
I had spent years always wanting feel like a normal kid. I wanted to have a regular family, regular friends, go to a regular school where normal things happened and people didn't know magic or face the possibility of being hurt by it. But what was normal, anyway? It meant something different to everyone. It was subjective, just like a work of art or a pretty face.
Beauty, like normalcy, comes from the eyes of those who view it. It isn't necessarily found in the object itself, but rather in the eyes of those who look upon it. Who live it.
I realized if I had had a normal life and existence, I never would have met Jimmy. I never would have known what is was like to be loved by him. I never would have known what it was like to love someone so completely you'd do anything, risk anything, believe anything, if it meant protecting them.
Rage in Pain Roz: The R.I.P. Series Book 2 Page 20
