Christmas Ghosts - Fiction River

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Christmas Ghosts - Fiction River Page 13

by Fiction River


  “Thought…that was…almost impossible?”

  “True.” I began scanning her mind magically. “Even the best Guardian neurologist on Earth—that would be me—can only heal damaged nerves some of the time. But let’s just take a look.”

  I narrowed my focus to study Rebecca, and found that the nerves of her brain were burning. The closest thing I’d seen to this was some damned fool golfer who’d been struck by lightning on a course because he wouldn’t go inside during a thunderstorm. In his case, the damage was done in an instant.

  Rebecca still burned. Or maybe it was more accurate to say she was being toasted since the damage was still developing as nerves were slowly consumed by an unearthly magical fire that glowed violet red. No wonder she’d been in such agony. I wasn’t sure this was something I could fix. It might be kinder to learn how to find the children, then stop her heart to end her agony. Sometimes death that was the only healing possible.

  But that was a last resort. First Rebecca deserved my best attempts to heal.

  Where to start? The optic nerves were very dark. When they became charred black, it would be too late. I began with them, pouring white light along the neural pathways. First I extinguished the unholy burning. After the searing red faded away, I added healing magic, building up the neural fibers until they were fully restored.

  Rebecca didn’t move her head, but she blinked as her eyes focused on me. “Simon? With that mane of curly blond hair, you look like a mad scientist.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” I said absently. “Let’s see if I can figure out a way to fix your whole nervous system quickly.”

  “Probably a good thing you are a mad scientist,” she said with a breath of amusement.

  Next step, the insanely complex neural network of the brain that defined Rebecca Malmain. This time the healing went faster as I got the knack, but I needed to be faster yet or many of the nerves would be dead before I reached them.

  I’ve never attempted to restore a complete nervous system, but I’d never seen one with this kind of damage. I closed my eyes and concentrated so hard that everything but the nerves and body beneath my hand vanished as I poured the full power of my consciousness and healing magic into her neural network.

  Going inside her nerves felt deeply strange, like ricocheting through a disco light show. But where my consciousness moved, the nerves healed, changing from dark to light to radiant life as the magic swept through.

  The process became easier and soon I was tearing through her nervous system like a Formula One racer. Heart, lungs, brain, other internal organs, finally limbs, fingers, toes. She was a magnificent physical specimen, as fit as an Olympic athlete. Not surprising since she was a Guardian hunter.

  I’m not sure how long the restoration took—not as long as it felt like. I finished my repair job and collapsed on my back on the filthy concrete floor, limp as overcooked pasta and gasping for breath. I’d never done such a healing in my life, and I devoutly hoped I never would again.

  Moving raggedly, she pushed herself to a sitting position and stretched like a cat. Her “ghost” had fully aligned with her body. She was whole again. With awareness in her face, she was also beautiful, radiating intelligence, focus, and humor.

  “Dear God, thank you!” she breathed as she looked at her hands, turning them back and forth. “I had no idea such healing was possible.”

  I forced myself to sit up. “Neither did I. If I survive tonight, I’ll have to write an article for the Journal of Guardian Healing.” As an afterthought, I said, “I didn’t know you would have a British accent.”

  “Not surprising since I’m British. Accents don’t come through in mind talk.” She opened her backpack and pulled out a handful of granola bars. “Here, you look close to burnout.” She tore open a wrapper and put the bar in my hand.

  “Used up a couple of years worth of energy.” Which was an exaggeration, but only by a bit. I barely had the strength to take a bite of the granola bar. Peanut butter and chocolate, among other things. Great fuel. I took another bite, feeling my energy lift. I practically swallowed the rest of the bar whole.

  Rebecca immediately placed another unwrapped bar in my hand. She was wolfing them down as fast as I was. Healing burned energy for both healer and healee. After she’d gone through three bars, she slowed down enough to pull a bottle of water from her backpack. After a swift swallow, she handed it to me.

  In my present state, that water tasted finer than the fanciest drink I’d ever had in my life. Feeling halfway to normal, I glanced at my watch. Only about a quarter of an hour had passed since I’d found her. It felt like a week. “Now what? The quicker we find your abductees, the better.”

  Rebecca nodded and got to her feet, again flexing her hands in wonder. “Agreed. I presume the demon wants to suck the life force out of them. That’s what demons do—they’re all mindless, stupid hunger. Because the children are young, there’s a special brightness to their energy that must be tasty.”

  “You were going to show me how to find the children. Can you still do that now that you’re not dead?”

  She grinned, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. “Footsteps in the dust. Plus, I was able to attach a bit of tracking magic to the youngest girl. I hoped that if you found my body, I’d still have enough awareness to show you the tracking magic. See?”

  She gestured with one hand, and I saw a faint pulse of ragged pink energy leading away into the darkness. It was not as clear as the thread I’d followed to find Rebecca, but if I relaxed, I was able to sense the direction. “I see it. Time to call in the cavalry.”

  I pulled out my cell phone to dial 911, then swore. “No signal down here.”

  “Not surprising.” Rebecca lithely rose and tied her long red hair in a knot at her nape so it wouldn’t get in the way. “You need to climb back to the surface and find help. I’m going after them.”

  I shoved the cell phone back in my pocket. “Are you crazy? The demon already near as dammit killed you once!”

  Her gaze was calm. “Yes, but every minute counts. I’m a hunter, Simon. I can’t stand by when I’m needed. I learned a thing or two from the first encounter. I’ll be harder to kill this time.”

  I swore again. “I’m going with you.”

  “Now who’s crazy?” She patted various parts of herself. I’ve known other hunters, so I was pretty sure she was checking for weapons concealed around her slim figure. “You’re a healer, not a fighter. You won’t be of much assistance, and I’d rather not have your death on my conscience.”

  “You probably won’t live long enough to feel guilty.” I gave her my best listen-to-the-doctor glare. “I’m no warrior, but I’m damned good at shielding.”

  She frowned. “Good enough to protect yourself and the children?”

  “No guarantees, but I can deflect quite a lot of bad magic. Plus, now that I think about it, I’m not sure calling 911 is a good idea. The average cop isn’t equipped to face down demons.”

  “Sadly true. I’m told that New York’s Finest includes several Guardian hunters, but I don’t have their numbers available.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  “Just as you’re compelled to hunt, I’m compelled to heal. If we find those children alive, they may need magical treatment fast.” I swept my hand after the blue pulse of energy. “Lead on, my lady hunter!”

  Rebecca pivoted and headed into a tunnel after the energy line. She was below-average height, and looked as sleek and deadly as one of the hot babes you see on urban fantasy paperbacks. I wondered if she had a tattoo like the hot babes always seem to.

  I suppressed my mental wanderings and focused my attention on our hike along the dusty tunnel. There were footprints in the dust, enough to suggest a fair amount of coming and going. There were also odd bits of rubble and now and then a dead rat.

  The energy trail was becoming clearer, maybe a sign that we were getting closer. I touched an experimental fi
nger to the energy and had a clear sense of the little blond girl. She was terrified but holding it together, barely.

  “What happened to the children? And how did you become involved?”

  “Pure chance,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I write mysteries, and flew over to research Christmas in New York City for my next book. I was waiting in the taxi line to go into the city when I realized that a man getting into a taxi ahead of me was possessed by a demon. So I had my cabby follow him into Manhattan.”

  “Did you say ‘Follow that car?’”

  She chuckled. “Yes, I’ve always quite wanted to do that. My driver did a decent job of keeping up, but with the traffic, I was several minutes behind when the demon host was set down near the toy shop and went inside. Again, I followed, thinking there were enough people around that I wouldn’t stand out. I was startled to feel magic coming off so many of the toys.”

  “Did you confront the demon host?”

  “Not really,” she said wryly. “The shop is like a railroad apartment, with rooms behind rooms. When I entered, I could see straight through to the end of the shop, which was set up with a Santa in a Germanic outfit, several children, and the demon host. I’m not quite sure what happened, but there was a flare of dark, powerful magic. When it cleared, I saw that the original demon host had collapsed and the demon energy, or at least part of it, had moved into the Santa.”

  I frowned. “Only part of the demon energy?”

  “That’s what it felt like, but I’m not sure what happened,” she said, frustration in her voice. “Anyhow, Demon Santa said in a horribly jolly voice, ‘We’re going for a walk now, children!’ Then he led them through a door behind his Santa throne.”

  “Where were the parents of the kids?”

  “As I ran through the store and into the room behind, I saw adults collapsed in each room.” Her voice faltered. “I think they were alive but unconscious. I hope they were alive. I didn’t take the time to check.”

  “How did you end up toasted?”

  She sighed. “I went racing down the steps at full speed. When I got to the bottom, I saw Santa’s back as he shepherded his captives in this direction. I was so concentrated on him that I didn’t realize there was another demon above me. I heard a sound and looked up just in time to be hit with a nuclear grade blast of demon magic. Not my finest hour. Whatever it was came down the steps and passed me. I couldn’t see because I was paralyzed and turned away from him.”

  “So there are at least two.” Probably the second demon was the one who’d laid that toxic energy charge on the door to the shop. Could a single hunter like Rebecca take on two demons? I swore silently at the odds.

  I saw a faint glow of light ahead, and Rebecca raised one hand for silence as she continued toward it. We reached the end, where the tunnel opened into a larger space, and came to a halt. Ahead of us was a railroad car sitting on rusty rails that ran back into darkness. Light poured from the small, grimy windows and I could hear a tinny rendition of Deck the Halls. The footprints led right to the nearest door.

  As Rebecca magically scanned the interior of the car, I recalled I’d once seen a picture of a similar car somewhere in the tunnels under the city. Was it near Grand Central Station? Used by Franklin D. Roosevelt? I couldn’t remember. Not that this was the same car. There was no presidential seal, just a shabby passenger car, probably pre-World War II, and with a grotesque Christmas party taking place inside.

  Rebecca laid her hand on mine and said in a bare whisper, “All six children are in there and alive, but two of them are very weak. What can you sense?”

  “Pain,” I whispered back. “Fear, terrible fear. And evil. Two demons, I think?”

  “Yes, the Santa and another even darker energy.” She hesitated. “I have no evidence, but my intuition says that the owner of the shop called the demon energy to New York. When the host entered the shop, the demon energy split with some going to the Santa and more to the shop owner. My guess is that they’ll feed on the children till they’re dead, then the shop owner will do the same to the Santa.”

  I shuddered. “Ugly.”

  “Take a look.” She clasped my hand and I felt a spritz of her hunter power. Immediately my perception sharpened. The German-style Santa Claus was mindless hunger, while the other was—pure evil of a kind I’d never experienced. And both of them were draining lethal amounts of life force energy from two of the children. “Oh, God! Those kids won’t last much longer!”

  I was heading toward the railroad car when Rebecca clamped hold of my wrist. “Wait! If you barge in without thinking, you’ll end up as the second course of their meal, which will do those children no good.”

  I swallowed hard, knowing she was right. “What now? Don’t tell me there’s nothing we can do!”

  “I’m going in,” she said quietly. “With luck, I’ll take them both down. At the least, I’ll distract them and slow them down until you can bring help.”

  I snorted. “So you can get yourself killed while I’m safely out of the way? Not going to happen. Even if I went to the surface, I wouldn’t know where to look for help. We’ve already concluded that the regular police won’t be much help.’

  She shrugged as she peeled off her backpack. “The odds aren’t great, but not hopeless. They’re so distracted now that an assault might take them by surprise.”

  “Let’s hope so, since I’m going with you. That ought to improve the odds. As I said, I’m good at shielding.”

  She hesitated, understanding the logic but still reluctant. “I haven’t known you long, Simon, but well enough that I don’t want to add you to the likely casualty list.”

  An outrageous idea that could change the odds struck. “We need to do deep level bonding, the kind where all barriers are dropped and total trust is necessary. We’ve already exchanged energy and thoughts to the point of being halfway there.”

  Rebecca sucked in her breath. What I was suggesting was the equivalent of asking for sex five minutes after meeting. Deep bonding is very rare unless the Guardians involved are incredibly close. Even husbands and wives didn’t always want that. But if we succeeded, our power would be multiplied.

  “Are you sure?” she asked quietly. “If I die here, I might take you with me. If we both survive, we’ll always be connected.”

  “I won’t mind. But if we are to do this, it must be quickly.”

  Rebecca gazed into my eyes for a long moment, as if weighing whether I was a better alternative than almost certain death. Then she smiled wryly as she extended both hands. “You’re a credit to mad scientists everywhere, Simon.”

  “Mad certainly.” I clasped her hands, and we plunged into each other. Eyes closed, I sank down, down, down, into the most private places of my spirit. When I reached absolute center, I forced myself to release all the defenses that hid my secret embarrassments and flaws and insecurities: being a skinny young science geek no girl would look at, losing patients despite my best efforts, the lingering grief of losing both parents young. I bared my soul and the essence of Simon Harlowe to Rebecca.

  She did the same, and in an instant I knew and felt her own insecurities, the impetuousness she was always battling, the aching grief over a child she felt she should have saved from a lethal fall, but couldn’t. All her strengths and weaknesses.

  As our energies met and merged, it was like healing fire sweeping through me. Yes, she was human with the usual imperfections, but what a woman she was! Brave, kind, and honorable to the marrow. Her spirit was the most joyous dance I’d ever known.

  “Oh, my….” Rebecca breathed. “You’re the greatest peace I’ve ever known.”

  She was courage and action, I was healing. On this deepest level, we balanced. I would have loved to stay in that space to savor the harmony and the essence of Rebecca, but we couldn’t afford to waste another vital moment. Opening my eyes, I said, “If we don’t make it out—it’s been a pleasure knowing you, Rebecca Malmain.”

  She gave me the swift, pred
atory smile of a hunter. “One for all and all for one!”

  Before I could say it should be one for both and both for one, we were tearing hand in hand across the cracked, dusty concrete toward the railroad car. I hastily prepared my strongest defensive shielding.

  When we reached the car, Rebecca released my hand and leaped up the two rusty steps to the nearest door. “Start fast and keep moving,” she snapped.

  Barely pausing, she raised a hand to the door, and it shattered under her touch. She vaulted into the car shouting, “Tally ho!,” the cry of British Guardian hunters.

  I was only two steps behind her. As she’d planned, our entrance shocked the demons into temporary paralysis. The interior was decorated like a robber baron’s private brothel, the vulgar furnishings now shabby and tattered. The music came from a large, chipped gilt music box with a battered ballerina turning on the lid.

  Four of the children sat on a padded bench along one wall, their eyes glazed and unresponsive. A binding spell plus a trance spell, I guessed.

  And everywhere there were antique toys saturated with magic. An army of six-inch-tall Napoleonic lead soldiers stood against one side wall, a high shelf held china-headed Victorian dolls with menacing eyes, and an alpine train garden occupied a table at the far end of the car. There was another rocking horse, rattier than the one in the shop window on the surface, but radiating malevolent power.

  Halfway down the car, the Santa and an ugly, gnome-like man sat in facing seats. Each held a child’s head, hands clamping to their victims’ temples as they drew out the vital life force. The gnome held the little blond girl, who was close to the point of no return. Santa had one of the twin boys, soft brown hair falling over his fingers.

  When we broke in, they looked up, startled, their eyes unfocused as if drunk. Bonded to Rebecca, I was able to draw on her hunter magic to confirm that the Santa was a regular human who had been possessed. We should try to save him if we could. The gnome, though, embraced evil. I sensed that he’d trafficked in dark magic for a long time. Having learned how to summon a demon, now he reveled in its vicious power.

 

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