The Deadening

by Yvonne Heidt

  Shade had some issues she needed to work on first. Anytime Raven touched on the memory of her time in the cave, her scars itched and burned. Raven wasn’t going to be the first to bring it up in a conversation because she had a feeling Shade would use it as another excuse to push her away, for Raven’s own good.

  Raven had grown to hate those words. As far as she was concerned, she was a grown woman, and nobody, not even her mother, had a right to tell her what to do. Raven was old enough to decide and define what was right for her.

  She supposed she should wheel Shade out of the sun before she burned. A little color would do her good, some natural vitamin D, but not enough to burn her.

  She hung up the dishtowel and returned to the patio. She was going to release the wheelchair brake, but instead, sat down and just stared at Shade.

  She looked ten times better than she had while in the coma, but not even close to resembling herself before the accident. And that was when she was strung out on alcohol and drugs. Raven’s resolve weakened. She could love her enough to fix her. All Shade needed was someone to love her, and she would be happy.

  Raven could do that.

  If only Shade would get out of her way.

  Raven shook her head. She knew better. You couldn’t fix someone who didn’t want help, you couldn’t love someone enough to cover both people in the relationship. You shouldn’t involve yourself in a couple where only one person did all the compromising.

  It never worked. Or, if it did, it was temporary; a Band-Aid that eventually rotted and fell off.

  Can’t, doesn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, never.

  More words she hated.

  Yes, anything was possible—but only if you drew that energy to you. Shade was going to have to work for it this time. That’s all there was to it. She’d learned her lesson about casting love spells, so that was out of the question.

  Raven sighed and reached down to release the brake. Shade didn’t stir, so Raven kissed her forehead softly, loving the feel of her soft skin against her lips.

  She wheeled her to the shady side of the patio, right next to the pool, and Shade woke up when they hit an uneven brick. “Where we going?”

  “Into the shade. You’re turning pink. You’ll be more comfortable in the chaise than the chair.”

  “Okay.” Shade stood, a little shaky at first, but made her way over to the recliner to sit, then stretched out. “This is good.” She closed her eyes again.

  Raven had been expecting a fight, or an argument, after she told her what to do, and was astonished Shade was so compliant. It made her nervous for some reason, as if Shade was saving it all up to explode later.

  Raven adjusted the umbrella to maximize its coverage over her, then spread her towel a few feet away, in the sun, and lay on her stomach, watching Shade.

  The birds were active in the foliage, and several wind chimes rang in the small breeze. Raven closed her eyes to listen to their songs and let the sun heal her turmoil. She was aware she was dozing, and loved it. From somewhere in that wonderful space came the thought that maybe Shade was simply trusting her. Raven smiled to herself and then let sleep take her completely.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shade felt horribly guilty on the ride home. “Sorry I slept most of the day. It was a wonderful surprise. The food was awesome.”

  “It’s okay, and you’re welcome. Sleep is healing. You need it. Besides, I took a long nap as well.”

  “I can’t believe how tired I am all the time.” The painkillers no longer energized Shade; they made her sleepy. Maybe, she thought sarcastically, because they were actually for the pain. She wasn’t going to lie to herself and say she didn’t want more; she was being honest about that. But at least now she knew the reason. Perhaps that’s why she had to die in order to find out why she needed the drugs so bad. The Universe knew how stubborn she was. Her protective illusions had been shattered, her barriers had fallen and laid bare her emotions. It left her feeling raw, but strangely optimistic. It was such an odd oxymoron.

  Raven pulled her car into the empty garage, and Shade was reminded she needed new transportation. It was weird to feel a warm sense of homecoming. Home was usually the last place she wanted to be.

  Was it Raven’s presence that changed that? God, she was so damn tired of thinking and analyzing, second-guessing every thought that came up. She realized it was another reason she’d drowned her emotions. Dealing with so much crap on a daily basis was wearing her out. Her mind was never fucking quiet.

  When they were inside, Shade shuffled down the hall to her room, and snuck in two more painkillers. In twenty minutes, she would feel comfortable, and hopefully, she could shut up the voices in her head.

  She sat on her bed, heard Raven putting stuff away in the kitchen, and thought about going to help her, but Raven was done and standing in the doorway before she got up. Shade didn’t want Raven to help her into bed—much. The reasons why she shouldn’t be with Raven were being met with opposing suggestions why she should. Shade was stuck somewhere between hope and terror.

  Raven crossed to her side, and Shade slapped at her hands when she began to unbutton her shirt. “Jesus! I can do that.”

  “You let the nurses dress you,” Raven said calmly.

  I wasn’t attracted to them. “That’s different.”

  Shade’s closet was in the back of the master bath, and Raven stalked in that direction. “Fine, tell me what you want, then.”

  “In the dresser, third drawer, there are boxers and T-shirts.” At least that’s where she remembered them being put before the accident, when she’d done her house-cleaning spree. “Thanks.” Shade sat on the edge of the bed and waited. Usually, she slept naked, and didn’t care what she wore, but she wanted to be covered in front of Raven.

  “Did you know there’s a woman in the tub who needs help?” Raven asked loudly from the other room.

  Shit, Shade thought. If Raven was seeing the same woman she had, she was bloody enough to beat the band, and her appearance was horrific. Shade hadn’t known Raven could see the newly dead. Why didn’t I know that?

  Raven appeared, handed Shade her clothes, and then turned to leave the bedroom.

  Shade felt a little panicky. “Where are you going?” Why wasn’t Raven affected? Oh shit, she must be leaving. She hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted her to stay until she was going away.

  “Put your clothes on. I have to get something from my room.”

  “For what?”

  “Since you’re a little indisposed, I’m going to help her.” Raven glanced over her shoulder. “And by the way, she’s says you’re very mean.”

  Fuck me. Shade sat very still on the bed, willing her to come back in, hoping Raven hadn’t used an excuse to run out the front door.

  Instead, Raven walked back in, crossed the room, and entered the bathroom again.

  “Do you want any help?” Shade called out.

  “Got it, thanks.” Raven closed the door behind her.

  Shade managed to get under the covers and leaned against the headboard. She heard Raven’s muffled voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. She couldn’t hear the spirit either. She bit her fingernails and worried until Raven came back out.

  “Okay,” Shade said. “I have to ask you something.”

  “Shoot,” Raven said. Perspiration dotted her face, and she gleamed with power.

  “Come here,” Shade said, gesturing to the other side of the bed. The sight of Raven was incredibly hot, and she wanted to touch her.

  Shade patted the bed again, testing her.

  Raven didn’t balk and gracefully crawled up beside her to rest against the headboard. Shade could tell she wasn’t afraid of what she’d seen.

  “How did she appear to you?” Shade asked.

  “Um, dead?”

  “I’m serious, Raven. This is important.”

  “Okay. I was coming out of the closet, and she was there in the bathtub. She was covered in dried blood and
had several broken bones. She told me her name and that she’d been in a car accident.”

  Shade swallowed. That’s exactly as she’d seen her, before she’d told her to leave so callously. “She didn’t scare you, or hurt you in any way?”

  Raven shook her head. “Why should she? I put together a little spell and convinced her she was dead before I shooed her on into the light. She just wanted someone to hold her hand because she was alone and scared.”

  The relief that washed over Shade was a cleansing of sorts. She’d been dealing with the dead and taking the role of protector for so long, she didn’t know anyone else who could have dealt with the spirit’s terrible visage and not at least cringed. Raven seemed stronger for it, and not at all disgusted or scared. “Good, that’s good.”

  Raven tilted her head. “You thought I would run.”

  “Truthfully, yes.”

  Raven smiled. “That was nothing. Raul, my mother’s second cousin? He blew his own head off, and he comes to see us at least once a year.”

  Shade laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath, and she lay gasping for air.

  Raven handed her the water on the bedside table and then rubbed her back in small circles. “My dad committed suicide too, but he never comes to see us.”

  What? Had she heard her right? She stopped laughing. “I didn’t know that.” Shade awkwardly turned to face her. “I’m sorry.”

  Raven looked sad. “I was very young when he overdosed, and I hardly remember him.”

  “Mine too.” Shade nodded and thought back. “Died when I was young, I mean. But I think my mother had him murdered.”

  Raven’s eyes widened. “Really? How do you know that?”

  “Do you want the long version or the short one?” Shade asked. She hadn’t shared this story with anyone outside her circle, and they hadn’t talked of it in years. But she felt like she needed Raven to know the story.

  “I’m here, tell me.” Raven slid down into the pillows until her body was even with Shade’s, and only a foot and a half away. “We’ve got nothing but time.”

  Shade wondered where to start. Raven had already seen what happened on that rainy night, courtesy of Phaedra. She looked into Raven’s eyes and didn’t see anything but compassion and a willingness to listen. She wished she could read her, but she was going to have to settle instead for gauging her general aura. “One rule,” she said.

  “Rules?” Raven asked. “Telling me a story has rules? I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

  “Not,” Shade said. “I’m just going to ask you not to psychically probe, okay? Let me tell it myself.”

  “That sounds totally fair. I agree.”

  Shade found it hard to tear her gaze off her face, but knew she had to in order to continue. “Okay.” She took a few deep breaths. “The first dead person I ever saw was my father.”

  She let that hang in the air between them for a few moments while she gathered the rest of her thoughts. “It was that night. After.”

  “You don’t have to go there,” Raven said softly. “It must be horribly painful.”

  “I didn’t remember much about him. I used to ask my mother, but she’d always just tell me he was a loser. Some no good, worthless, son of a bitch biker she’d picked up in a bar one night that’d walked out and left her pregnant with me.

  “Funny thing about that is when we were in the cave? My father came again, and I remembered he loved me. I thought he’d come to take me away. I took his hand, and I thought it was over.” Her father’s hand had felt as real as her own did. She was sure she died. “But I woke up.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Raven said.

  Shade still thought it was another kind of a rejection. As if she were found not worthy, but she didn’t mention that. “I’m not so sure I am.” She felt Raven tense up next to her before her temper exploded.

  “What an incredibly selfish and ungrateful thing to say,” Raven said. “It would have destroyed the people who love you. Did you know you weren’t ever left alone in the hospital? We all took turns by your side, watched over you, gave you our energy, and prayed in each of our own ways?” Raven sat up and continued her tirade in Spanish, her hands gesturing wildly.

  Shade didn’t know what she was saying but was stunned silent by her sharp words and tone. Hadn’t Sunny just called her selfish as well? She’d never viewed herself that way before the coma.

  She’d really, truly thought herself to be the one who made sacrifices for others.

  Raven pushed at Shade’s arm. “Are you listening?” she asked. “I bled for you. And you say you wanted to die? I’m so pissed at you.”

  “What?” That got her attention. “What did you say?”

  Raven unbuttoned her shirt and opened one side. Three uneven jagged scars started on her shoulder, traveled across her left breast, and ended at her ribcage.

  Shade was horrified. How could she forget Raven’s cry of pain? She’d been so caught up in reliving the trauma, she hadn’t even asked about it. “Aw, no, honey. Nooo.” Shade pulled Raven to her and placed her hand over her mauled breast. Raven fought a little, but Shade held her tightly until she quit, ignoring the lightning strikes in her back. “I’m so sorry. So sorry, Raven.”

  Here was the reality of her situation, and the reason why she didn’t let anyone in.

  They always, always got hurt.

  *

  Raven had attempted to gently disengage herself from Shade’s side, but each time she was forcefully pulled back into the embrace, even though Shade appeared to be sound asleep. Raven didn’t want to struggle. She could take a short nap, then move to the guest room later.

  Her eyes opened at three a.m. The witching hour. When she was little, she’d called it, the deadening. It had made sense to her then, when spirits would show up full of pain, and she would soften it, numb it, and take it away if she could, before she sent them on.

  With her gift, she was able to transform the spirit’s appearance before they crossed over. And if they needed help or directions, she had her raven-form to assist.

  Shade’s breathing was deep and even as she slept. Raven warred with the rule she’d set earlier. The one about not peeking. Did that apply when she wasn’t awake? What if she ignored it and read Shade’s thoughts, for her own good?

  Raven smirked and played with semantics. Shade had never finished her story, she’d freaked out about Raven’s wounds instead. Shade would now have the most powerful weapon in her arsenal, the weapon to try to convince Raven to leave, to not get involved.

  She resisted the urge to chuckle. As if anything could make her go if she chose to stay. Shade wouldn’t stand a chance against her charm. But she didn’t want to be with her by seduction. She wanted Shade to choose her as well. As if it were her idea all along.

  Raven consciously relaxed her neck, then her shoulders, and let the progression continue down, throughout each area of her body, until she finished with her feet. The process left her feeling tranquil.

  The day spent in the sun had done wonders helping her muscles feel loose. As she relaxed further against Shade, Raven felt her grip loosen slightly, and then she reached for the words to build a chant.

  She took three long breaths, holding the last one for as long as she could before exhaling.

  With these words, my intentions be, to enter Shade’s dreams, and observe as me. No harm I mean to her or I. A trip for love my goal to fly. As I will it, so shall it be.

  As Raven repeated the rhyme two more times, her feet tingled first, then the sensation traveled up her calves to her thighs, and continued onward to the top of her scalp, until her entire body felt lighter. Raven was aware her body temperature was rising, and she transferred some of the warmth into Shade.

  In order for the inner meditation hypnosis to work, she had to combine their lifelines on the astral plane. She reached for Shade’s ribbon of energy, the murky, muddy color concerned her, so she used caution while she braided their essence together, takin
g care with the traces of the strands that appeared fragile and burnt. She finished weaving the weakest areas with her own stronger and healthier lines of green and blue.

  They took flight.

  This trip was easier than the last two. Like her mother had promised, because Raven had forged a path previously through Shade’s mind, it remained one she could see and follow.

  Raven swallowed her apprehension and ignored what happened last time she traveled here. Fear was not allowed, she had a purpose, and to be afraid could derail her plans.

  “Shade?” Raven called to her telepathically.

  “Yes. Where are you? How did you—”

  “No,” Raven thought firmly. “You can ask questions later. First, we have to go and find Lacey. Go back to her, Shade.”

  “No! Lacey is dead”. Shade’s tone was younger, combative, and petulant. It was also the weakest point in her energy trail.

  Raven drew the brittle line tighter, weaving in more of her own to give Shade strength. “Lacey is not dead, honey. We need to find her. I want to help her.”

  “No one ever helped Lacey.” Shade’s voice was younger still, and the despair Raven could hear in it broke her heart. As much as she fought with her mother, and siblings, she had never, ever, in her life felt unloved or unwanted. The wounds were far deeper than she could have ever imagined, because she’d hadn’t experienced them. The emotion was foreign to her, and even second-hand, it curled in her stomach and made her queasy.

  “Shade? Was there ever a time when you felt happy?”

  “I can’t remember. No, wait. My mother had a nice boyfriend one time. His name was Larry. He played in a bar band and gave me one of his old guitars.”

  Raven was relieved to feel Shade’s smile. This was an excellent place to start. Shade’s energy pulled even closer, and this time, Raven felt stronger. “Did you learn how to play?”

  “Yes. I taught myself. I would practice whenever she wasn’t home.”

  Raven wasn’t touching the subject of her mother yet. She wasn’t able to get past the monstrosity of her actions, so better for now to leave that out of their traveling. “Can you show me?”