by Laury Falter
“Give me a five minute head start,” she instructed. “I’m going to lead Theleo and his thugs off your trail. When all is clear, Jameson will come for you.”
She started for the door, but I caught her arm. “Where are Jameson and I going?”
She blinked, appearing confused. “You don’t know what’s happening?”
“No, what?” The anticipation of spending a few undisturbed hours with Jameson rapidly grew, but her uneasy expression caused apprehension to blend with it.
“Store owners around The Quarter are getting surprise visits from Vires. They started last night but really ramped up their destruction today.” When I didn’t understand her insinuation, she clarified, “They need you to heal them.” Her eyebrows rose then, sending me a daunting look. “Hope you’re up for it…”
She bravely glided outside, tucking her head, black hair casually falling around her face.
When the door had closed, I turned back toward the vacant locker room, stunned and unnerved.
Last night…I contemplated. What was I doing while the Vires were hurting others? When the answer came to me, it physically made me recoil.
I’d been talking with Miss Mabelle and, once again, I was arguing against accepting a surreal destiny while I could have been far more useful.
Shame and anger threatened to smother me, as I struggled to shake off the feeling of failure.
Then, someone’s fingers embraced my forearm.
My first thought was: Jameson. My next thought was: Vire.
Immediately springing into a defensive position, I twisted my arm toward the thumb of the hand now gripping me and slipped free from its hold, but I didn’t stop there. I was already in motion.
Spinning around, I used my momentum to gather the necessary force and balled my hand into a fist, aiming directly for the person’s face.
It landed with a slap against the surface of a hard, inflexible hand.
“Jocelyn.”
I registered the voice as Jameson’s and paused.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I allowed my eyes to adjust and he came into clear view. His reaction could be summed up in one word…
Alarm.
“Did that hurt?” he asked, uneasy and closely evaluating me. “Are you all right?”
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. “Well, other than the entire city being overrun by Vires…engaging in a showdown with one of them today…having those I love in constant danger…staring at a future I can’t possibly imagine for myself…and being unable to openly help those being harassed…I’d say everything is dandy.” I tested a smile, quivering, and somehow it found its way to my lips. “Sorry for nearly hitting you.”
His mouth fell at the corners in a half-smile but behind it there was a sign of pride. “That’s a nice left hook,” he said, tenderly rubbing his palm, which I knew was for the benefit of my ego. I adored the fact he made the effort. “Where’d you learn that anyways?”
“Martial arts classes. Wentworth Preparatory Academy…New York.”
“Well, at least I won’t have to worry about you,” he said, playfully, although I knew he would. He gave me the same amazed glance he sent my way every once in a while, one that said “I like that you’re from another world. It’s intriguing.”
He surprised me by reaching out and gently taking hold of my forearm, giving it a close inspection. “You’re healed,” he stated, concentrating on the skin around my bracelet.
“I work fast.”
He chuckled, relieved, and I knew I’d never tire of hearing it come from him. Unfortunately, it dwindled to silence quickly.
“I’m-I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her before…” He shook his head slightly, trying to make sense of it.
“It didn’t hurt,” I reassured him, not wanting him to suffer any guilt.
I knew where his thoughts were headed so in order to keep him from thinking about next time, I changed the subject.
“So, I know you didn’t kill Mrs. Gaul, but what did you do to her?”
I was relieved when my little ploy worked and he snickered, albeit a small one.
“Oh, I just gave her a spark.” He shrugged it off, until he saw the confusion contort my face. “That’s what I call it when I transfer too much energy into someone.”
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “You can do that?” I was amazed. “But I thought you could only enhance someone else’s energy.”
“I can do that too.”
“Huh…” I muttered, processing the possibilities. “Can all channelers do that?”
He shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen.”
I couldn’t believe how blasé he was being but when he spoke again, I understood why. He was thinking of me.
“Remember when you were recovering…in the bayou? I had to be careful not to give you too much.”
“Why? What happens in that case?”
“You die.”
“Oh, well, thanks for being cautious about it then,” I joked light-heartedly, tilting my head back and chuckling at the ceiling.
“I’m always cautious with you,” he replied, far more serious than I was.
The sincerity in his voice made my head drop. “I’m not a delicate flower, Jameson.”
He laughed under his breath. “No, you are definitely not that. You are far more powerful than even you know.” I figured he was referring to me as possibly being The Relicuum and the mere mention of it made me withdraw. Thankfully, I didn’t show it. “What I mean is...the history between our families…the feud…I don’t want you in the middle of that anymore.”
“I won’t be…they’re not fighting,” I reminded him, with a teasing smile.
He followed my reaction, but it was only out of courtesy. When it quickly fell away, I knew this was important to him.
“You are in the middle of it, Jocelyn.” He declared this with such confidence I didn’t try to refute it. “But this time you’re not standing between our families as we fight it out. Right now, you’re standing in the middle of Vires, The Seven’s personal army, who are looking for the ones who killed their accomplices. And when they find out that it was us, our two families, they will know – they will have the confirmation they are looking for – that we are together.” He paused as the images in his mind became too intense and a mixture of anger, resentment, and trepidation washed across his face. My chest sank at this sight. “I’m constantly trying to figure out a way to keep you out of it, but…” He sighed in aggravation. “You’re so unbelievably strong and still incredibly vulnerable…and that’s something I haven’t been able to get you to understand.”
I slipped my arms around his waist, reveling at the feel of his torso. He was warm and solid as stone. “You’re worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.”
“So that I can be prepared for when it does,” he replied, somberly. “We can’t underestimate them. We were caught off guard this time. We can’t be next time.”
“I’m not sure I understand you.”
He squinted, curiously. “You’ll see what I mean in a few minutes.”
“Why? What happens in a few minutes?”
He didn’t look all that happy to tell me but he did, although unenthusiastically.
“Tonight…you’re going to see exactly what the Vires are capable of.” He paused, waiting for my reaction.
Having no idea what awaited us, I didn’t know how to react. I almost said the first thing that came to mind, which was, of course, sarcastic: “Sounds like fun…” But I stopped myself when an image of Olivia’s store flashed through my mind. I’d seen it destroyed once before with chunks of the walls missing, shelves collapsed all throughout, and piles of broken, unidentifiable objects littering the path to the door. Olivia’s store was where Jameson and I first met, the place we learned that we were fated lovers. It didn’t matter that Jameson and I had been the cause of its demolition before. It held a unique place in my heart and if the Vires destroyed one thing in that store…if Olivia herself were h
urt…
“We’re wasting time,” I blurted before my thoughts could continue down the path they were going.
“I need to warn you…the injuries we’ve healed at hospitals, clinics, the veterinarians…they’re nothing like what the Vires can cast.” He stopped to reiterate the warning with explicit pronunciation. “Nothing like them.”
“I understand.”
Still he hesitated.
“I do,” I insisted, growing more impatient.
“I’ll be there with you the entire time, Jocelyn,” he reassured me. “The entire time…” Then he drew in a deep breath and stated my worst fear. “Our first stop is Olivia’s.”
I stifled a groan at hearing the confirmation, not wanting to cause any more delays. Jameson had already given his best effort to warn me, and he was correct in trying.
I had absolutely no foresight as to how unprepared I truly was…
5 CLEANSING
Driving would be a better mode of transportation, but Jameson and I knew we couldn’t risk it…too easy to be followed. Since it was just after dusk, I levitated us both, while Jameson navigated to Olivia’s shop. This method, unfortunately, left me weaker – and less equipped to handle whatever we may encounter.
The last time I visited Olivia, her shop had been destroyed. This time it looked exactly the same, as if she had done no cleaning at all since then. Shelves were toppled, merchandise littered the floor, and fragments of glass covered nearly every surface. As we entered through the back door, Jameson had to move aside a mangled piece of wood, resembling what was once a desk.
Walking to the front of the store gave us an entirely new perspective. Even though it had endured the same level of destruction, it was also the place where Olivia had been cast against.
We found her crouched in the corner like an injured animal, eyeing us cautiously.
Olivia was in her nineties. She is frail, kind, and grandmotherly. She didn’t deserve this type of castigation. I immediately wondered what excuse the Vires had for doing this to her and what had been done to them to evoke such a passionate lack of sensitivity.
“Careful,” a snide voice snapped, to our left, as we skirted a broken mound of candles. It was Mrs. DeVille, another elderly shopkeeper, ambling toward us. Her hunched back shifted to keep its balance as she slid across the broken wreckage. “The woman’s been like this all day.”
Jameson’s head jerked back, bewildered. “She was visited yesterday.” In a far more brusque tone, he continued. “And she wasn’t like this when I left.”
“They came back again,” Mrs. DeVille scoffed. Evidently, Jameson’s questioning insulted her.
“You were here?” I asked Jameson.
He nodded and was about to explain, when Mrs. DeVille interrupted, demanding, “Why’d you bring her anyway? We told you to keep this a secret.”
With a great amount of patience, Jameson’s head swiveled back in her direction. “Mrs. DeVille, Jocelyn is the healer.”
“Oh no she’s not,” she replied, emphatically, her ego bruised.
Jameson sighed, closing his eyes against what I saw as an argument evolving. Without bothering to open them, he elucidated, “Mrs. DeVille considers herself to be a first-class, bona fide healer.”
He didn’t agree with her in the least, proven by his struggle to control his expression.
“Stay back,” she warned, bringing a gnarled finger up in my direction. “You stay back. She’s my patient.”
“I might be able to help, Mrs-”
“Back!” she snapped. “Back!”
Having been fully reprimanded now, I wondered who was behaving more like an injured animal. I threw my hands up and took a step back, showing her I was serious. “She’s your patient, Mrs. DeVille, but if whatever you try doesn’t work, I’m going to step in.”
She gave me a petulant stare, turning her lip up in a scowl, and wobbled across the room to Olivia. When Olivia saw her coming, she curled tighter into a fetal position, and I didn’t blame her.
Above the scuffing of Mrs. DeVille’s feet as she made her way through the damage, a croaky voice called out. “Love, just leave her be.” I followed the words to the dimmest part of the room where a thin man was sitting on an upturned chair, the muted candlelight making him hard to define.
“Mr. DeVille,” Jameson greeted him, pleasantly.
He gave Jameson a courteous nod before continuing to coax his wife away from Olivia. “Let the girl try, Love. You’ve been working on it all day without any progress.”
Mrs. DeVille turned sharply, spitting over her shoulder at him while continuing to hobble along. When she finally reached her patient, she bent down, leaning so close she had to dodge Olivia’s clawed swipe at her.
As Mrs. DeVille attempted once again to reverse whatever hex Olivia had been cast under, Jameson smoothly traversed the room to stand beside her husband. I remained in place, since my vantage point was better from where I stood.
“She said they came back?” Jameson inquired, quietly, trying not to disturb Olivia.
Mr. DeVille nodded, pursing his lips, obviously discontent. “That’s right. First time, they did what you see to the store. Olivia was injured. Had some cuts and bruises, but nothing like this. Second time, they did what you see happened to her now.”
“Mmhmm,” Jameson muttered, encouraging him on.
“Entered right through the front door even though it was locked to visitors. By the time we could get here, they’d left and poor Olivia…well, this is how we found her.”
“Any idea why they’d come back?” Jameson asked, dividing his attention between Mr. DeVille and what Mrs. DeVille was doing with Olivia. “Has she…maybe Olivia told you something that might help us understand…” he ventured.
“Hasn’t told us anything all day. Lots of groaning and lots of screeching, but no speaking.”
Jameson nodded, thoughtfully. “And it was the same Vires, the same ones who came around the first time?”
Mr. DeVille shook his head, emphatically. “That was the odd thing. The ones who came back…they had a woman with them. Tall…wearing a floral dress. Heard them call out her name…Gant…Gann…” He sighed, trying to recall the name they’d used.
“Gaul?” I offered, and from the corner of my eyes I saw them look in my direction.
“That’s it,” confirmed Mr. DeVille.
Jameson’s shoulders visibly tensed at hearing this news. “Mrs. Gaul was here.” He mumbled to himself, deeply considering the magnitude of what this meant. “Returning after the damage had already been done…but why?”
“To do more damage?” Mr. DeVille proposed.
This was a foregone conclusion, but neither of us mentioned it.
As if to redirect Mr. DeVille, Jameson asked, “When did she come back? What time?”
After pondering the question, he lifted a finger in the air, as if pointing out the time on a clock. “Noon. Came back at noon.”
“After second period class…” Jameson groused.
“After second what?” Mr. DeVille asked, leaning toward Jameson.
A shriek suddenly escaped from Olivia, bringing the conversation to a temporary halt so Mr. DeVille could plug his ears. After briefly checking in her direction, the conversation picked back up where it left off. Jameson was intent on getting every detail he could.
“What was the reason they gave for the first visit? Did they say?”
Mr. DeVille frowned, and for a moment, I didn’t think he was going to respond. “We got hit, too. Most everyone did…seemed to be looking for two things…a rope…”
At this announcement, Jameson again glanced in my direction, because we knew which rope Mr. DeVille was referring to.
“The Rope of The Sevens?” suggested Jameson.
“That’s the one. Told them it had gone missing in the 4th Century so it didn’t seem like they’d be finding it any time soon. They didn’t like that very much…”
Jameson and Mr. DeVille chuckled.
; But then Mr. DeVille continued on, more tenuous. “The other thing they wanted to know was about their missing associates. Fred and Nastis.”
He’d almost remembered the names correctly. Either way, it didn’t matter. Jameson and I knew it was Frederick and Anastas’ disappearance that the Vires were investigating.
“What did you tell them?” prompted Jameson.
“The truth. Can’t give them information on people I don’t know anything about.”
That seemed to make sense to Jameson, whose only reaction was a sigh of relief. “And the second time they came around? Any idea what they were asking about then?”
Mr. DeVille shrugged carelessly. “Don’t know. I’m sure they stopped in on us. Did it with everyone. But we must have missed ‘em while we were here trying to help Olivia.”
Jameson didn’t speak for a few minutes, absentmindedly watching Mrs. DeVille as she unintentionally taunted Olivia with her incense stick, scaring her more than healing her. “So the Vires made visits yesterday, asking about the rope and their missing friends. But Mrs. Gaul returned today…with her own crew…arriving around noon…casting hexes on anyone she located.”
“That about sums it up,” agreed Mr. DeVille.
“The reason for the second visit…” Jameson paused, visibly aggravated. “I-I just don’t understand why she’d hit the same people twice. There’s nothing to gain from it.”
As the two men were working diligently to solve the mystery, another scream shrieked from Olivia. I’d been watching the entire time, and the extent of Mrs. DeVille’s healing capabilities were to wave an incense stick around and chant something unintelligible. Now, Olivia violently started clawing at her face, leaving red gashes down her cheeks, and by that point, I’d seen enough.
“All right,” I stepped forward.
“Back!” Mrs. DeVille warned, yet again.
I ignored her.
As it turned out, Mrs. DeVille was all bark and no bite, because when I reached her, there was no physical effort on her part to prevent me from getting any closer.
I vaguely noticed the conversation had stopped behind us; as I crouched down in front of Olivia, she was staring back at me with hollow, frantic eyes.
