“This’ll be you if you don’t get your Sense under control,” my dad had said. “I can’t protect you if you refuse to hide your powers. Your mother and I aren’t infected, so why’d you end up with the curse?”
That’s what he called it—a curse. But it’s not a curse, and I know it. I’ve always known it. Now if I can just convince Wren. First things first, she needs her shoulder taken care of. She’s lucky Makka’s a mystical wolf spirit and heals fast. If she’d been shot in human form and stayed out all night like she did, she’d be dead.
I cut the sleeve off her blood-soaked shirt and examine the wound. The bullet went straight through. Good. Easier for me to fix her. I don’t have to open the gash again to dig out the slug. Resting my hand on her shoulder, I call on the Sense to help me heal her. It’s not me doing the healing, really. I’m a channel. The energy flows into my head and out my hands, and she’s all fixed up in no time.
Healing is easy. Always has been. The hard part is watching the souls go from the bodies I can’t fix. Sometimes the damage is too much for one person to heal: a punctured lung, a massive heart attack, terminal cancer. I can’t fix everyone.
To most people, when someone dies, they close their eyes—or they don’t—they stop breathing, and they’re dead. Gone. It’s over.
It’s not like that for me.
Lucky me, I get to watch the soul leave the body. I can even grab hold of it if I want to. It feels as solid as human flesh, but colder. Once, I even put one back into a body, but only once.
This little boy drowned in the city pool the summer I was twelve. The medics pulled him out of the water, and they were doing CPR on him, but they weren’t fast enough. I watched his soul turn from gold to gray and float right out of his body. He hovered over the crowd, looking so confused. It was the first time I ever watched anyone die, and I didn’t know what was happening myself.
I was standing right there, so I reached out and grabbed for his hand. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I did it, I just did. I expected my hand to pass right through him, since he was a spirit and all, but it didn’t. To me, he was solid, so I grabbed him, pulled him down next to me, and held on.
Where do you think you’re going, little guy? I said in my mind. I’m lucky I didn’t say it out loud, because then everybody would’ve known what I was doing, and I’d have been in deep trouble.
Why’s my mommy crying? the little boy asked. And why are my eyes closed?
He was dead, but he didn’t know it. You swallowed a bunch of water. It’s in your lungs, and you can’t wake up.
Why not? I don’t want Mommy to cry.
Well, you can’t breathe. Your mama’s crying because she’s afraid you aren’t going to wake up.
He started to slip from my grasp, so I held on tighter. His mama was on her knees, screaming and crying for them to save her little boy, and I just couldn’t stand to see someone so upset. The medics were pounding on his chest and blowing in his mouth, and I think his body wasn’t really dead yet. I think they’re going to save you, I said to him, and I shoved his soul back into his body.
It was the strangest thing. One minute, I was physically holding his spirit with my hand, and the next, I grabbed him with my mind and fused him with his body.
He coughed, and water splattered out of his mouth, and they turned him on his side. His mama held him and cried and thanked the medics over and over. When the boy finished coughing, he looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.
To this day, I can’t say how I knew what to do. Instincts, I suppose. That was the only time I’ve done that, though. Most of the time, when someone dies, there’s not enough life left in the body to keep the soul inside. I’ve seen so many people die now, I’ve lost count. I’m the only healer we have here at camp, so I get to see them all.
Luckily, Wren’s not dead. I put my hands on her head and look for the pain inside. It always starts at the base of the skull and shoots up to the crown. That’s how Todd described the headaches. I think it’s the wolf spirit trying to get out of the body, and that’s why I can’t heal it completely. She’ll have a dull ache for a few hours, but it’ll eventually go away on its own.
Her eyes move quickly beneath her eyelids, and her hands keep clenching into fists. She’ll probably wake up soon. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to pull it forward over my face, but then I remember I cut it last night. There’s no hiding the scar now. I hope she doesn’t freak out too much. It’s pretty ugly.
I guess it doesn’t matter what she thinks of my face, though. She’s hated me since we were kids, and that’s my fault too. I can find a reason for everything to be my fault if I think about it enough. That’s why I try not to think about it. It is what it is, and all I can do is keep moving forward and try to enjoy life as much as possible. I can’t change the past, so there’s no use crying about it.
“How’s the patient doing?” Missy walks in and offers me a cup of coffee. I take the mug, letting the warmth of the brew chase away the inner chill my thoughts brought me.
“Dirty, but healed. She’ll be waking up soon.”
“That’s good.”
“Are you going to tell her the truth about her father?”
“No. I think she needs to find that out for herself. Her mother knew there was no cure, so she must have had a reason for telling her he had one. I think Wren is the key to ending the reign of the wolf, and ultimately the reign of the president. We have to figure out what role she’s going to play.”
“How can you do that when she’s afraid of herself? She freaks out at the mention of using the Sense.” I brush a piece of hair away from Wren’s face, but it falls back onto her forehead—stubborn, just like her.
“You’ll have to go with her. Take her to her father, and along the way, you can teach her to use her powers. Convince her the Sense is good.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
She musses my hair and gives me a motherly smile. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“That’s what you said about controlling the wolf too, and look how good I’ve done there.”
“You’re doing fine. No one else is even brave enough to get close to him. Don’t underestimate yourself.”
“I guess.” I brush the stray hair off Wren’s face again. Her skin is soft like velvet. This is the closest I’ve been to her since we were six years old. Well, aside from the time we spent in the hidey-hole, but that doesn’t count because I couldn’t see her in the dark. Her lips look soft too. They’re dark-pink and shaped like a little bow. I glide my fingers down her cheek toward her mouth. For some weird reason, I need to see whether they’re as soft as the rest of her skin.
Missy clears her throat, and I yank my hand away before I get to find out.
“Don’t tell her there’s no cure. Just take her to her father and gather as much information as you can. I’ll ask around and see if her mother shared her plans with anyone. Her reason for sending her daughter to the wolves.”
“I don’t know, Missy. I don’t like lying to her.”
“You’re not lying. You’re simply withholding information.”
Chapter Fourteen
Wren
“She’s in such a fragile state.” The sound of Missy’s voice drags me to the surface, but I remain still, hoping to hear more of the conversation.
“I think she can handle it.” Liam’s voice is closer, hushed, like he’s sitting next to me and is trying not to wake me. What does he think I can handle? The wolf? It’s obvious I can’t after what happened last night.
His finger glides across my forehead as if he’s brushing hair from my face. His tender touch raises goose bumps on my arms, and I try not to smile. The headache is gone, and my shoulder is only mildly achy. He must have worked his magic on me. I let my eyelids flutter open and find him staring at me, a goofy grin occupying most of his face.
His face . . .
I gasp, and cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh God. I’m sorry. It’s j
ust . . .” I lift myself up on my elbows. “I never noticed your . . . your hair always covered . . .”
He laughs self-consciously. “Yeah, I cut it . . . for Todd, you know.” He rakes his fingers through his dark hair and glances at Missy. She nods, and he fixes me with his hazel gaze. His eyes are a beautiful greenish gold, like a sunrise over a meadow. But the skin around the right one droops a little, pulled down by a thick, jagged pink scar stretching from the edge of his eyebrow down to his earlobe. Two smaller but equally grotesque scars start below his cheekbone and end at his jawline.
My mouth hangs open, so I snap it shut. I can’t believe I never noticed the disfiguration before. He was always so careful to keep it covered.
“I guess you’re wondering about this.” He motions to the scar and sighs. “It happened a few days ago. I—”
“Makkapitew did it. I remember.” He doesn’t have to explain. Visions of the attack flash in my mind. Anger racking the wolf’s body. His massive paw swiping out in rage, connecting with the tender flesh of Liam’s face. The surprise in Liam’s eyes and the resolve on his face as he backs away but continues to talk to the wolf.
I’m seeing the wolf’s memories, but Liam’s lack of fear in those memories surprises me more. He’s steadfast. Determined. Brave in the face of an animal that’s intent on killing him.
He raises an eyebrow and glances at Missy before focusing on me. “Wait, you remember something that happened before you—”
“Interesting,” Missy says. “The hosts usually only have access to the memories made after they join with the wolf.” She pulls her chair closer to the bed. “Perhaps finding your father isn’t in your best interest right now. You already have so much more control over the wolf than—”
“Control?” I sit up fully and throw the blanket off my legs. “I killed a man last night. You call that control?”
Liam puts his hand on my knee. “Who?” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. You didn’t—”
“I know!” I push his hand away. His touch gives me comfort, and I don’t deserve comfort right now. “I know, okay? I know it wasn’t me. It was the wolf . . . but I was there. I didn’t stop him.” I cross my arms over my stomach and double over, sobbing. “I chose.”
“What did you choose?” Missy asks.
Sitting up, I wipe the tears from my face and stare straight ahead. “I chose which man would die.”
Their eyes grow wide as they stare at each other. “How did you choose?” Liam asks.
“He was going to kill my boyfr—Seth. He was going to kill Seth, and I begged him to kill someone else. He listened.” I fold in on myself again as the steel fist of grief crushes my heart in its grip. Even after everything Seth did to me, I couldn’t allow the wolf to take his life. I shouldn’t have allowed him to take anyone’s life.
“Could Todd communicate with the wolf?” Missy asks Liam.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then what I read in her is true. Do you know what this means?” Excitement peaks in Missy’s voice.
“That I’m not the only Soul Catcher anymore?”
“That’s right. You have a partner now.”
I look up at them. Missy wears an exuberant smile, and Liam just looks stunned. “What are you talking about? What’s a Soul Catcher?”
“Someone who can communicate with souls,” Missy says. “You can talk to them, touch them. If the legends are true, you share Liam’s gift of healing as well. Being a Soul Catcher is such a rare gift; I’ve never met anyone other than Liam who could do it. And now, with you as his partner, you can—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I jump up and pace the room, looking for my boots. “Where’s my stuff?” Liam points to a corner, and I march over to retrieve my things. I stuff my feet into my boots and clumsily tie the laces. “I’m not going to be anyone’s partner. You promised to help me find my dad, and that’s what I need to do. I’m going to find him, get the cure for this . . . wolf infestation . . . and then I can go home and be normal. That’s all I want. I just want to get rid of this curse before I kill anyone else.”
Missy sighs dejectedly. “I can see there will be no arguing with you. Your father is in New Mexico. He works in Roswell.”
I laugh, unbelieving. “The top-secret ‘alien research’ place?” I make air quotes with my hands. “I’ve heard the stories. Some so-called UFO crashed there like a hundred years ago, and the military took over the town. Are you trying to tell me my father works with aliens?”
She smiles grimly. “There are no aliens there, but there may be monsters.”
“Monsters? Oh come on. I thought you were going to tell me the truth, not some fantasy designed to scare me away.”
“I am telling you the truth. Roswell is a top-secret government facility, but not because of aliens like everyone is led to believe. They do much worse than harbor extraterrestrial spacecraft there.”
“Yeah? And how do you know all this?”
“I know because I used to work there.”
A glimmer of hope lights inside me for the first time since I got here. She has my attention now. “So you know my father?”
“I do. He works in energy manipulation. He and a few other Enlightened Ones work with the scientists to do experiments on humans. He wasn’t there when the wolves were made, but he oversees the ones in captivity now, running experiments on them . . .” She visibly shivers.
“Wait. Energy manipulation? The wolves are shape-shifters, aren’t they? I thought the original ones were born with the ability to shift into wolves. You’re saying they were made that way? And my father is involved?”
“Some Enlightened Ones are born with the ability to shape-shift. But when President Martin outlawed the Sense, he needed more than wildfires to convince the people it was a curse. He wanted them to believe the Enlightened Ones themselves were dangerous creatures. What better excuse than the Sense turning people into a pack of bloodthirsty werewolves? True shape-shifters can call on the spirit of any animal to shape-shift whenever they want, and they can release the spirit when they are ready to shift back to human form.”
I sink onto the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms around myself. I don’t want to believe any of this, but the seriousness in her expression is undeniable.
“President Martin had them engineered to keep the wolf spirit chained to the earth. He used a combination of drugs and various forms of the Sense to trap the wolf spirit inside the human, and then he turned them loose on the public. Once the people were afraid, he could make any laws he chose—including the legal slaughtering of Enlightened Ones—who were now called infected.”
“And my dad took part in all this? Is that why my mom never told me who he was?”
“I’m sure that’s part of the reason, dear. But I think she also knew about your special ability and wanted to keep you hidden.”
I’m about to protest the so-called special ability they insist I have when a tall man with dark hair and sad eyes enters the room and clears his throat. “It’s Mabel.” Tears shine fresh on his cheeks. “She’s asking for Liam.”
Missy and Liam scurry out the door behind the man. I can either follow them or sit in this room by myself, so I decide to see what’s going on. Catching up with them as they turn a corner, I overhear the tail end of their conversation. “. . . can’t do anything else for her. The cancer was too big when she got here,” Liam says.
“I know, but maybe you can make her more comfortable,” Missy replies.
I follow them into another dwelling, identical to all the others, and find a fifty-something-year-old woman lying in a bed surrounded by people. Her thinning hair falls in silver wisps around her sallow face. Her sunken eyes are the palest blue I’ve ever seen, and her thin lips curve into the tiniest smile when Liam kneels beside her.
The rest of the crowd backs away to give him space, but I stand right behind him. I’ve never seen him heal anyone besides me, and if I supposedly share his power, I don’t want to miss a thing.
/>
“Hi, Mabel.” He beams a smile at her. “What hurts today? Headache? Stomach?”
“Everything.” Her voice is a raspy whisper.
He rests one hand on her shoulder and brushes the hair off her forehead. My chest tightens at the tenderness he shows the dying woman . . . the same kind of tenderness he showed me before I pushed him away. “You know I wish I could fix everything for you, but I can’t. If there’s something specific, I’ll do my best. Or did you just call me here so I can sing you a song?”
“No songs. Please.” Everyone in the room chuckles quietly, like it’s some kind of running joke.
She reaches her veined, fragile hand out to pat his. “I’m ready to go. Please, there’s so much pain. Please help me go.”
He swallows hard. “You’ve been in bad shape for a while now, haven’t you?”
“Too long.”
“But you know that’s not how my power works, don’t you? I can catch a soul when it leaves, return it to the body if the body can heal fast enough. But I can’t cut it loose. I can’t . . . well, maybe.” He turns to me. “Maybe you can do it, Wren. Help her pass on to the next plane.”
I take a step back. “You want me to kill her? Are you crazy?”
“No, not kill her.” He stands, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and guides me to the corner of the room. “She’s gonna die soon anyway.” His voice is a whisper. “She’s got terminal lung cancer from working in a factory all her life. You’d just be helping her along is all.”
I study his eyes, forcing my gaze to focus on his irises and not travel to the scar marring his face. I’ve never seen him look so serious. “What can I do?”
“Come with me, look at her soul. It’s barely hanging on. You must be able to find some way to cut it loose. That’s what Soul Catchers do, according to legend. One puts the souls back into the body, and the other can set them free.”
“Okay.” I follow him to the woman and kneel at her side. I have no idea what I’m doing. The only souls I’ve seen were already dead. I can’t see living ones.
Soul Catchers Page 9
