Squinting against the sun, I started up the slabs leading to the front entrance of Mrs. Watts’ home. The clairvoyant image had been kind. Plywood—or possibly cardboard—covered some of the windows, as though she was in the process of boarding up her house for a hurricane or tornado. A lone hose snaked past untrimmed rose bushes and shrubberies, crossed the dry grass and ended in a plastic pool filled with dirty water and dead bugs. A van, its windows shattered, stood in the driveway.
My senses picked up a familiar energy. The more I tried to identify it, the more elusive it became and the harder my head pounded. As we got closer, I realized that most of the windows had no covering. Our boots crunched on shards of glass littering the porch.
“What’s with the glass?” Kim murmured.
“It’s from the windows.” Remy pointed at the jagged edges of broken glass bordering the windows. He picked up a large piece, turned it over in his hand, then glanced through one of the windows. “Every glass surface in the room is shattered, even the TV screen. It’s like a gas explosion or something.”
“Yet there’s no evidence of fire,” Sykes said.
“No, this is the work of a demon.” Bran stepped forward and pressed the doorbell. “Strong wind can shatter glass, right?” He glanced at Kim.
“And everything in its path,” Kim said. “This is something else.”
“Sound is more selective,” Izzy said. “But sound demons don’t exist.”
“I don’t know about that. I knew several Banshees on Coronis Isle,” Bran added, ringing the doorbell again. “They were funny.”
Izzy rolled her eyes. “Ha-ha funny or hey-you-are-about-to-die funny?”
The energy was stronger now, but not enough to get a reading. Even our amulets didn’t glow in response to it. It bugged me that I couldn’t identify it. Running footsteps resounded in the air and drew closer. Bolts clicked then the door was flung open.
A petite freckled-faced woman squinted at us. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair sticking every which way, and her pajamas, a wrinkled one-piece, had wet blotches. There was no sudden rush of memories as I stared at her.
“Finally,” she said with relief and indicated we follow her.
No one moved.
Why is she being so nice? Izzy telepathed.
Yeah, Runners usually slam the door in our faces, Kim added.
“Mrs. Watts, we are here to—” Bran said.
“I know,” she said, interrupting him then gestured that we follow her. “This way. Mind the glass. It is everywhere and on everything. Vandals broke in last night and destroyed everything.” The living room wooden floor had an area rug littered with toys and more shards of glass. “The children are in the bedroom,” she added.
Bran gripped my arm. “Do you remember her?”
I shook my head.
He muttered a curse, then looked at his watch. “Okay, let’s find out why a demon was here, then get out of here. The perfect time to pay demons’ dens a visit is during lunch, when their guard is down. Come on.” He led the way inside the house.
“What’s that smell?” Kim asked.
“Smells like Lazari,” Izzy mumbled. “You think some did this to her home?”
“I never heard of Lazari with the ability to break glass,” Bran said. “Whatever did this might still be here. Do you sense anything, Lil?”
“Yeah. Something gooey.” I rolled my eyes when they all stopped and reached for their weapons. The way they blended in at school, I often forgot they hadn’t grown up around humans, but instead spent their first sixteen years in Xenith. They all grew up in Xenith until they got their powers at age sixteen. “The scent is not demonic, it’s puke,” I explained.
“As in partially digested food?” Kim asked, her expression dubious, one hand covering her nose, the other holding her knife.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“How do you know?” Sykes asked.
“I’ve been around sick humans.” From their expressions, they didn’t believe me. I shrugged. I had enough on my plate without trying to convince them of something so mundane. “Whatever, but you need to put those weapons away before Mrs. Watts sees them and concludes we’re here to hurt her.”
We continued along a narrow hallway, following sounds to a medium-sized room. The windows were boarded up with cardboard, so the only light came from a bedside lamp on top of a dresser. The room had two twin beds and a crib.
Two boys about six shared one bed, Mrs. Watts mopping the brow of one of them as he threw up into a bucket. An older girl about eight lay curled up in another bed. She looked so pale, her psi energy weak. The youngest child sleeping in the crib was hardly breathing.
“Mrs. Watts,” Bran called out.
She looked up from her boy and frowned.
“Why are you just standing there?” she asked, refolding the wet towel and cleaning her son’s face. “Help me. They need treatment.”
“What happened to them, Mrs. Watts?” Bran asked.
“I don’t know. They were perfectly fine when we went to sleep last night,” Mrs. Watts said in a tired voice, “but they woke me up at four in the morning crying and running high fevers. I gave them over-the-counter medication and they seemed to be doing okay several hours later. They even had some soup. Then their fevers returned and they couldn’t hold down anything. I can’t drive them to the hospital because the same people who vandalized my house also broke into my car, so I called you guys.”
Bran frowned. “The broken windows happened last night?”
“Or this morning, I don’t know. I woke up and the glass was everywhere and my children were sick.”
“We’ll take the children to the hospital. In the meantime, come with me.” Bran extended a hand toward the woman.
“I want to ride with them to the ER.”
“You will,” Izzy reassured her gently. “As soon as we figure out what’s wrong with them.”
Mrs. Watts hesitated, a haunted look entering her eyes.
Go with him, I projected into her thoughts. Everything will be okay.
She allowed Bran to lead her out of the room. Sykes lifted the cell phone from the dresser and showed it to us. It looked like road kill.
“Unless the demons were here after her kids got sick, I doubt she used this. I’ll check the houseline.” He threw the phone to Remy and left the room.
Remy’s ability to manipulate solids came in handy at a time like this. Within seconds, the cell phone was whole again. He flipped it open and checked the calls.
“There’s no record of a call to the emergency room,” he said.
“So the demons were here before the kids became ill,” Kim said.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe this is the result of food poisoning.” Izzy placed a hand on one of the twins’ chest. She moved to the next child, then the older girl and finally the baby. “Forget I said that. They’re dying.”
“Of what?” Kim mumbled. She stood close to the window as she tried to breathe the fresh air from outside.
“Bone cancer,” Izzy said. “The same illness the oldest had before their mother sold her soul. Why is this happening?”
No one answered her, but my mind started racing. What were the chances of an entire family coming down with the same cancer overnight? Nil. This could be an attempt to scare Mrs. Watts against canceling her contract.
“Can you heal them, Izzy?” I asked.
“I could try.” Izzy placed a hand above the baby’s chest. Aglow started in the middle of her palms and spread until her fingers sparkled. Tiny electrical bolts shot from her hands to the baby, filling her and making her skin iridescent under the pink blanket.
A movement to my right showed Remy getting busy too. He pressed a hand on the plank covering the window. The wood shimmered and grew light and transparent as it transformed from wood to glass. He opened the glass windows to let the stale air out. He moved to the next window.
Sykes appeared in the doorway. “Her phone’s working. She ma
de a call about an hour ago.”
“The paramedics should have been here by now,” Kim murmured in a muffled voice, hand covering both mouth and nose now. “I have to do something. I can’t breathe.” She lifted her hands, creating a soft gust. It swept the stale air out of the room and through the window. Air scented with wild roses drifted inside.
My gaze moved back to the baby Izzy was healing. Color appeared to be returning to his cheeks.
Guys, you need to come to the living room, Bran telepathed us.
What is it? Remy asked.
Mrs. Watts doesn’t remember us. The demons who jerked her house wiped out her memories too.
Only one kind of demon did that. We looked at each other and hurried out of the room. Izzy stayed, her focus on the kids.
Mrs. Watts’ voice reached us before we joined her and Bran in the living room.
“Why should I?” she said, sounding frustrated. “I’m good with faces, and I’m telling you I’ve never met you before. Or them,” she waved toward us as we entered the room. “What does remembering you have to do with my children? Are you the paramedics or the police?” she studied our outfits. “Your uniform is…is…who are you?”
My headache got worse as I listened to them as they tried to convince Mrs. Watts they were the good guys. Then Izzy walked into the room with her youngest.
Mrs. Watts jumped to her feet and plucked the baby from Izzy’s arms. She touched her forehead. “Her fever broke.”
“Izzy healed her,” Bran said and indicated the couch. “Please sit down, Mrs. Watts. We need to finish our talk.”
“Are the others okay?” His gaze clung desperately to Izzy’s face.
“They will be when I’m done with them.” Izzy answered confidently. She glanced at us. Lightning demons did this to her?
We think so, Bran said.
Why? She asked.
We are still trying to figure that out, Bran said. Why don’t you finish with the other children while we figure out how to deal with this?
“I’ll take care of the broken glass while you guys deal with her,” Remy said, drawing our attention.
From her confused expression, Mrs. Watts didn’t understand what Remy meant, until some glass bits lifted from the floor like weightless crystals, while others raced across the floor as though they’d grown legs.
Mrs. Watts screeched and moved back, her little girl clenched in her arms. The child laughed gleefully and wiggled her pudgy fingers, wanting to play with the moving things. The shards coalesced into mirrors, vases, cabinet doors and picture frames. The cracked TV screen shifted and flowed until it was whole again while the discarded toys pooled in the middle of the room.
Bran had explained that we often demonstrated our abilities to convince Damned Humans that we were the good guys, but Mrs. Watts wasn’t impressed. She was totally freaked out.
It’s okay, I reassured her. We’re not here to hurt you. We wouldn’t heal your child if we were bad.
“I’ll take care of the other rooms, then your van,” Remy said. She’s all yours, guys, he telepathed as he left the living room.
“How did he do that?” Mrs. Watts whispered, her gaze following Remy, her arms tightening around her child.
“We already explained who we are, our abilities, and why we are here,” Kim snapped. “Make up your mind already.” She left the room to join Izzy.
“What my friend meant to say was we can’t force you to cancel your contract, Mrs. Watts,” Bran said, leaning forward and flashing his signature, charming smile. He reached inside his coat, pulled out the contract and unrolled it on the coffee table. “You get to decide whether you want to or not.”
She still hesitated. This was taking forever. How in Tartarus had we canceled hundreds of contracts when it took forever to convince one human to make up her mind?
“Mommy!”
Mrs. Watts whipped around as Kim entered the room with the twins. They let go of her hand and ran to their mother. Mrs. Watts fussed over them, touching a cheek here, a nape there, kissing their foreheads.
“Their fevers are gone.” Tears filled her eyes and streamed down her face. “Thank you. Thank you for healing them.”
“My friend healed them, Mrs. Watts, not me,” Kim said.
The woman craned her neck and looked expectantly behind Kim. “Where’s my Michele?”
Kim indicated the hallway. “Izzy’s working on her.”
“Stay here,” Mrs. Watts told the twins, then jumped to her feet and ran from the room. The children followed her anyway. The two year old continued to play with her toys, oblivious to the drama.
“How bad is her daughter?” I asked.
“Bad. Izzy can’t heal her, but you know Izzy. She’ll keep trying, until she exhausts her powers.” Kim brushed something off the arm of the sofa and gingerly sat on the edge. She picked up the contract from the table. “She refused to cancel again?”
Bran nodded and scrubbed his face.
“Does it always take this long to convince them, or is her case just special because of her lost memories?” I asked, not masking my frustration.
“It takes this long,” Kim said.
“It doesn’t always,” Sykes countered. “Do you guys think the lightning cloud demons are going after our humans and reversing their deals?”
“Oh yeah. But why now?” Kim asked. “Why not last month, or when we started after Jarvis Island? Are they after the ones who haven’t canceled or the ones who already did too?”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet.” Bran’s expression grew thoughtful. “We need to confirm this first. This is only one case.”
“Two if you include David Lee,” Remy said, entering the room. “Someone needs to talk to Izzy. She’s determined to heal that child when it’s obvious it’s not going to happen. I think we should either call an ambulance or drive Mrs. Watts to the hospital before we check on the others.”
“Call the ambulance,” Bran said and got to his feet. “Where’s her phone?”
I didn’t like the calm way they were taking the woman’s refusal. We were doing the woman a favor. Besides, we had already healed her kids.
“No,” I interjected, getting up.
Everyone turned to look at me.
I stared right back at them. “I don’t know how we’ve done things before, but we are not leaving. Remy, don’t fix her van. We are not doing anything more for her until she cancels that contract.”
Uneasy silence followed my outburst.
“Lil,” Bran warned, closing the gap between us.
“Red, where did that come from?” Sykes asked.
“Yeah, you’re usually the voice of reason,” Kim added. “You and Bleeding Heart Izzy.”
“It’s time we stopped being nice and make them face the consequences of their actions. Izzy already healed three of her children, and you and Remy restored her house. It’s time she did something for us.”
“I’m liking this new you,” Sykes said, smirking.
Bran scowled. “We can’t.”
Sykes squinted at him. “We can’t like the new Lil, or can’t blackmail Mrs. Watts?”
Bran glared at him. “We can’t blackmail or coerce Mrs. Watts. Remember free will? Lil will erase her memory, then we will leave and revisit her some other time.”
“I’m not erasing her memory. Let her have nightmares for all I care.” I teleported to the bedroom before anyone could respond.
Mrs. Watts knelt by the bed, her boys watched from her side, while Izzy worked on Michele. The girl’s eyes were closed, her expression peaceful as though she were asleep. Izzy, on the other hand, was a mess. Sweat dotted her forehead and her hands trembled. I checked her psi energy. It was dimming, which meant she was growing weak.
“We are leaving,” Bran whispered as he walked past me. He put his arms around Izzy and said, “That’s enough, Izzy.”
“No,” she protested. “I healed the others. I can do this.”
“Her situation is different,�
� he insisted, his voice gentle but firm. “There’s nothing you can do for her.”
“Of course there is,” Izzy snapped.
“You healed her brothers and her little sister, Izzy,” I added. “That’s plenty enough. We need to get out of here and focus on the de…” I remembered Mrs. Watts’ boys. Go play outside. I waited until they filed out. “We need to confirm that the lightning demons are messing with our humans, not waste our time and energy on something we can’t change.”
Bran threw me a warning look, then turned Izzy around. She was shaking so badly, she stumbled. He pulled her into his arms and murmured, “It’s okay. You did your best.”
Watching them reminded me of why I loved Bran. It wasn’t just his looks. It was moments like this, when he showed his loving, caring side. The thought that there were demons trying to stop us from canceling all his contracts filled me with rage.
I picked up the cell phone from the dresser, where Remy had placed it, and thrust it toward Mrs. Watts. “Call for an ambulance to take your daughter to the hospital.”
“Why? Your friend will heal her.”
“No, she will not,” I snapped.
“Why not?” she asked, looking confused.
“Because you are ungrateful,” I snapped.
“Lil!” Bran and Izzy said at the same time.
I ignored them, my gaze not leaving Mrs. Watts. “She’s already healed your other children and she’s so weak she can’t even stand.” I took a step closer and thrust the phone toward her. “Take it and do it. Now.”
“Lil!” Bran barked again.
I ignored him. Mrs. Watts swallowed, glanced at him then me. Something in my expression had her snatching the phone from my hand. She ran out of the room. When I turned around, both Bran and Izzy were staring at me with shocked expressions.
“What?” I asked.
“What’s gotten into you?” Izzy asked.
“Reality.”
“You are being cruel,” Izzy snapped. “Deliberately cruel. That’s so unlike you.”
“Oh, yes, this is so me. The new me.” I refused to look at Bran, but when I turned, I did it so fast the room swam. I thought I heard Bran said something, but I had already teleported.
“You have to cancel it before the paramedics get here, Mrs. Watts,” Kim said as I hovered above them in energized state.
Hunted (The Guardian Legacy, #3) Page 8
