Game's End

by Natasha Deen

  “Like a group of errant souls is looking to add you to their mix, or maybe just one super bad guy who’s still living?”

  “This isn’t about The Family or the soul-eater,” he said. “This is about that poor kid drowning.” He uncovered his face. “This is about all those years I was the bully. All those times I got off on hurting people.”

  “But you don’t anymore,” I said. “And you’re on another team, one that steps in to help.”

  “I guess.” He sighed. “It still makes me feel sick.” He rubbed his face. “Speaking of which, do you have any cuts on your skin?”

  “That was an abrupt topic change—wait, is this another set up for one of your juvenile boob jokes?”

  “I don’t know what hurts more,” he said. “That you think I’d joke about your safety, or that I’d joke about boobs.”

  “No cuts.”

  “For sure?”

  “Promise,” I said. “Why?”

  “When you were battling the soul-eater, Craig said not to let any of them touch you. I wondered if maybe it had.”

  “Hold on.” I went to the bathroom, stripped down, and checked my body. When I came back, I said, “Nope. Nothing.”

  “Too bad. I asked Craig about why there shouldn’t be contact. He said the soul-eater could track you through your blood, like a homing device.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Seems like it.”

  “Why don’t you sound happy about it?”

  He sat back. “Because if it had been a soul-eater tracking you, we could have bled it out of you. And it might have explained you jumping around with the serengti. Like maybe the tracking makes you glow like a runway and the serengti found you that way. But if Craig’s right, and this is really about a growth of power and this thing connecting to you because of your mom, then we’re in a ton of trouble. Your powers are unpredictable. Plus, whenever the serengti takes you on the field trips, you go to places I can’t follow.”

  “I’ll get a handle on my powers, in time.”

  “We don’t have time,” he said. “If you’re stepping through doorways and walking into the past, then what happens if we’re in the middle of a fight and you blip into another moment?”

  “So far it’s only happened when I’m literally walking through a door. As long as we keep the fights away from doorways, we’re fine. You think the soul-eater will meet us in the alley for the big rumble?”

  “It’s not funny.”

  “C’mon, it’s a little funny,” I said. “And we need all the funny we can get, ’cause the living world is freaking me out.”

  “The afterworld is no picnic, either. Do you think there’s a connection between the serengti and the soul-eater?” he asked.

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I don’t think so.”

  “The soul-eater can mimic different energies, right? Do you think he can pretend to be Serena?”

  I shook my head. “No, they’re definitely separate entities. Serena’s emotional. I didn’t feel anything from the soul-eater except a desire for power.”

  “Too bad,” he sighed. “It would have been great to take out both of them with one action.”

  “You and I don’t have that kind of luck,” I said.

  “It feels like things are spiraling down.”

  “It gets better, or worse, depending on how you look at it.” I updated him on Craig, my conversation with Dad about the video, and the trip to Florida.

  “You’re right not to involve Nell,” he said. “But you know she’s going to kill you when she finds out you cut her from this.”

  “I’d rather have her mad forever than dead for all eternity.”

  “What are you going to tell her?”

  “Nothing. I’m going to wait until I’m in Florida, then text. She can’t kill me if I’m hiding in another country.”

  “It’s Nell. She can do almost anything.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I stood. “Time to get packing.”

  “Did you talk to Hank about your mom?”

  I shook my head. “It all got turned around so fast, and he was so worried about me being outed, I got caught up in his emotion.” I caught the thoughtful look on Serge’s face. “What?”

  “Do you think mimicking energy is as simple as that? Getting caught up in emotion?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve never tried to match anyone before.”

  He held out his hand. The TV turned on. Stretching out his other hand, he shut off the laptop. “Craig had me practise centring myself. I bet it could work for you and help with your powers. Take my hand.”

  I did.

  “Now, close your eyes and focus on me.”

  I repeated his name in my mind. Calmed my breathing. He always felt solid and warm to me, but now, he felt bigger and warmer. The scent of him surrounded me, like the earth after a fall of rain.

  Then I sensed it, saw it. Behind my closed lids, an electric rope of colour and light, twisting and turning on itself. In my mind’s eye, I reached out and touched it. My fingers slid into it. “Can you feel that?”

  “Yeah.”

  So weird. So weird to be so connected with a guy who’d spent his life hating me, and his afterlife protecting me. The rope in my fingers flickered, thinned. I panicked and grabbed for it.

  “Ow!”

  My eyes snapped open.

  Serge held the side of his torso. “That hurt.”

  “Sorry, I was losing the connection and grabbed for it.”

  He grinned. “I guess guys aren’t the only ones with performance anxiety.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “You know what this means?”

  “I think so, but I’d like to hear what you think,” I said. “Why don’t you explain it back, so we can make sure we’re on the same page?”

  He sighed, exasperated. “If you can learn how to hide in my energy, then it’s another level of protection. Plus, if the soul-eater can hide in other energies, maybe there’s a way to track it.”

  “If there was, you’d think the higher-ups on the other side would’ve figured it out by now. Face it, looking for the soul-eater will be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Wait,” I corrected myself. “That would actually be easy to do. You’d bring a magnet. Finding this guy is more like finding a needle in a haystack of needles.”

  He swore.

  “It was a nice thought.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “But it was never going to work.”

  “I’m trying not to freak out about everything,” he said. “Could you not harsh my buzz with the truth?”

  “Hiding in your energy—it’s like I’ll be invisible,” I said. “And if I hide in your energy, and you hide in my energy, the soul-eater will be too confused to find us.”

  “If we do it right, then your dad won’t find us, either. No more having to unload the dishwasher or clean the bathrooms.”

  “We’ll be rebels, riders on the ectoplasmic storm.” I looked at him. “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “Good. I’m going to get packing.”

  “I’ll help,” he said, with a lecherous wiggle of his eyebrows. “We should start with your unmentionables, which I’m more than happy to mention.”

  I rolled my eyes and punched his shoulder. Secretly, his words made me happy. If he was relaxed enough to make stupid jokes, then it couldn’t be all bad. I headed to the bathroom to grab my shower stuff. After a quick hesitation at the doorway, I stepped through.

  And found myself still in my house, in the bathroom.

  Tightness eased from my chest. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe things were finally going to start untangling themselves and I’d get the answers I needed, soon.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning, I woke to the bing of my cell, puffy eyes, and a pounding heada
che. Fumbling in the near dark, I groped for the phone. It was a text from Nell.

  REMEMBER WHAT RORI SAID. IT WILL ALL WORK OUT.

  Coming into the kitchen, I saw Dad and Nancy sitting at the table. Dad rose and wrapped me in a hug.

  “Did you tell Nell anything?” I asked. “Because she sent me an odd text.”

  “I didn’t give you away,” said Dad.

  “She phoned me,” said Nancy. “I ducked her call. Then she stopped by the station. That girl’s a pint-sized bloodhound. I thought she was going to throw me in a headlock, but I didn’t give anything away, either.”

  “You carry a gun and a taser,” I said. “And you have a hundred years of being a cop.”

  “Careful on calling me old,” she warned.

  “I’m not worried,” I told her. “If you can’t take on Nell, I’m safe.”

  “I never said anything about using traditional weaponry. I’m just saying it’s in your best interest to remember who cooks.” She glanced at Dad. “And who could be cooking. Remember that the next time you want lasagna.”

  “Hey!” He put his hand over his heart. “I can cook.”

  “Didn’t you once burn water?” she asked.

  “I didn’t burn—Maggie was grappling with a ghost that had an unusual phobia—”

  Nancy turned my way.

  “Allodoxaphobia,” I said. “The fear of opinions. She veered toward poltergeist when I tried to tell her she needed to move on.”

  “How did you transition her?”

  “I started yelling, ‘is that really—? It can’t be! I can’t believe they’re here!’” I plucked a grape off Dad’s plate. “She saw her mom and moved on.”

  “And the water in the pot boiled over,” said Dad. “It did not burn.”

  “Still,” I said to Nancy. “Your threat is made, and I apologize, even though I wasn’t calling you old. I only meant you had extensive experience.” I reached for a crepe. “Even if you’re scared of Nell.”

  Nancy moved the plate out of my way. “Big talk from the girl who won’t tell Nell what’s going down.”

  “I’m not scared of her. I’m terrified, and I’m okay with that.”

  “Way to own your truth and be accountable to yourself,” said Dad.

  And that made me think of the secret I was keeping from him about my mother. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Is this about your cell?” His eyes went wide behind his metal frames. “Geez, Maggie, tell me you didn’t wreck another phone!”

  “First of all, no, and second, at a time like this, you’re really worrying about my cell?”

  “If your supernatural gifts included knowing the winning lotto numbers, I wouldn’t have to worry.”

  “It’s not about the phone.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “It’s about my mom.”

  He stared at me from over his cup of coffee.

  “What?”

  “I wish it was about the phone.” He set down his mug.

  “I have to tell you—we have to talk about her.”

  “Is your phone working?”

  “Yes, that’s not the—” I noticed Nancy rising from her chair. “You don’t have to leave.”

  “This is family stuff.”

  “Which is why you should be here,” I said. It took a second for the words to register, and another second for her to process what I’d said.

  Then she was out of her chair, holding me tight to her. The wool of her sweater tickled my nose. The scent of baking and her soap undid my heart.

  “You’re my family too, kid. I’m so proud of you, I know you’re going to do big, amazing—”

  “I swear to god, I’m barely keeping it together. If you make me cry—”

  She gently pushed me away. I turned back to Dad.

  “Those phones are expensive,” he said.

  “Are you still riding me about that? Oh, wait, you’re deflecting.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the word for it.”

  “There’s another word,” I said. “But saying it will get me grounded. We have to deal with what’s coming, and that means acting like adults.”

  “Don’t talk to me about being an adult,” Dad said. “I pay my bills. And yours. Like the phone—”

  “Dad!”

  “Go easy on me,” he said. “Deflecting is harder than it looks.”

  “What’s going on?” Serge came into the kitchen.

  Dad read his text, opened his mouth, and I raised my hand. “We’re not playing this little game.”

  “He asked for an update—”

  “Which I’ll give him, later,” I said. “In the meantime, we need to talk about Mom.”

  Serge sat down.

  “It’s not fair I don’t tell you about her,” said Dad. “But it’s too painful. Your mom made her decision when you were born and she was—”

  “She’s dead.”

  He stilled. “What?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Did she—” He hesitated. “—Did she come to you?”

  “Sort of…” Now it was my turn to hesitate. “She’s The Voice.”

  Nancy choked down the food in her mouth. “She’s the what? That thing that almost killed you when you were trying to solve Serge’s murder? And the thing that knocked you down the hill when Kent died is your mother?”

  I nodded.

  She made the sign of the cross against her body. “I gotta get to confession and ask forgiveness for thinking my mother was bad.”

  “Are you sure?” Dad asked. “I knew your mom and she was kind, loving—”

  I reached over, took his hand. “She’s in a really bad place.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” he asked. “Are you sure she’s—” He couldn’t finish.

  “I don’t know how she died, but it was horrible.”

  Dad turned away, but I saw the pain on his face.

  “We have to help her,” said Serge.

  Both Dad and Nancy checked their texts.

  “It sounds like the right thing to do,” said Dad. “But you don’t know what you’re stepping into.”

  “If it was you or Nancy on the other side, I wouldn’t hesitate.” I didn’t tell him the other part, that guilt was a giant motivation for me. I hated that the resentment I’d felt towards my mom had been based on the only fact I had: she’d left me when I was a baby.

  “Maybe there’s a good reason you’re hesitating,” said Nancy.

  “Nancy’s right,” said Dad. “I don’t like what your mom’s…become…but if you’re right about how she died, no good is coming from you trying to find out. What if it was gang related? What if she saw a crime? You start asking around and who knows what’s going to crawl out from the dark.”

  “Bad things, but I can’t leave her.”

  “When she left,” Dad said. “I promised her I would take care of you. I promised her I would be all you needed so you would never want to look for her—”

  “That’s crazy,” I said. “Every kid is going to wonder about who their parents are. How am I any different?”

  “She had to leave, it was the right thing for her—”

  “Why would she even put that on you—being enough so I would never look for her? And what about her? Wouldn’t she want to know how I was doing?”

  “She trusted I would take care of you. I’m sorry she’s in a bad place, but you need to leave her alone,” Dad said. “If the roles were reversed, I’d rather live in torment than think I’d put you in any kind of danger.”

  It didn’t feel right, but I’d just turned his world sideways. Maybe he’d come on board after he’d had time to think. “Maybe I can’t find her, okay, but the soul-eater is coming after Serge and me. My powers come from her side.
If I could talk to an aunt or uncle…”

  “She was an only child.”

  “Parents?”

  “Dead.”

  “I know when you’re lying.”

  He held up his hands. “Probably dead.”

  “Maybe not as dead as you think. Anyway, she had to have some other family. Even if I can’t have a moment with Grandma and Grandpa, I can—”

  “No, Maggie,” he said. “Leave it.”

  “But they have answers.”

  “You’ve never needed them before.”

  “The soul-eater might have her,” I said. “And it’s torturing her.”

  Dad’s face went ashen. “I’m sorry for that. We’ll figure this out in time.”

  “We don’t have time,” I said. “Bad things are coming for us, and my mother’s family might have the answer. Serge and I can end the soul-eater. The souls deserve their freedom.”

  Dad stood. “I made a promise, and promises don’t stop, even in death. She said take care of you, protect you, and I will.”

  “I’m sure she didn’t think her life would end the way it did.” Nancy held out her hand to both of us. “Maybe there’s room to—”

  “No,” said Dad. “This conversation is over, Maggie.”

  And it fell into place, her not asking for updates, Dad not wanting me to look for her. “She never wanted me, did she? That’s why you don’t want me talking to her family, because they’d tell me that, wouldn’t they?”

  “No, my girl, that’s not true.”

  “That’s why she left, that’s why she made you promise not to let me look for her.”

  “It’s not like that—”

  That’s not what his face said.

  “You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”

  “It’s not that your mom didn’t want you. It’s just that your birth…complicated things for her.”

  A complication. For her. Not him. Just her. I stood, pressing my hand on the table to hold balance. “I’m going to my room.”

  “It’s coming out wrong,” he said. “Your mom loved you.”

  I waved down his words and mumbled some nonsense about wanting to get on the road because of early sunsets. A quick shower, then I was pulling on my clothes and not caring about how the fleece-lined sweater stuck to my wet skin.