Dead Living (Spirit Caller Book 5)

by Krista D. Ball

  I touched his face and wiped away his tears. “I sure am.”

  Jeremy laughed, a desperate, choked sound, and he hugged me to him. The others poured into the cabin, and he asked, “What happened? What are you three doing here?”

  “Five,” Dema said contemptuously. “Spirit Caller, please tell the Tall Man to learn how to count. Do they not teach that in your prisons?”

  “I think you mean schools, Dema,” Connie said.

  “Same thing,” Manny said bitterly.

  “We’re here to rescue you,” Javier said.

  I grasped for the blanket I’d lost in the fall and wrapped it around my semi-naked torso. Anything to cover me up was good. “Why do we need rescuing? And why is Connie here? And why does Isabella have a sword like Javier’s?”

  “Um…” Connie said self-consciously.

  “Well, see…” Manny began, but he stopped, motioning at Javier.

  “Connie is one of mine,” Javier said briskly. “She came to St. Anthony,” he pronounced it Saint Anthony. We all rolled our eyes. “I needed someone in Newfoundland.” He pronounced it it New-found-lund.

  “NEWF-in-land,” me, Jeremy, Manny, Connie, and Dema all said in unison.

  Javier chuckled and said, “New-FIN-lund. Regardless, I sent her to look after Manny. I wasn’t expecting…this.” He gave them a knowing grin. “Young love never really changes, does it?”

  “Wait…so Isabella isn’t really your sister?” I asked Connie.

  “Oh, she is. She was here to check up on everyone.”

  “And Manny knows who you are?”

  Manny nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, Rachel, she said I couldn’t tell anyone.”

  I looked at Dema. “Did you know?”

  “The demon child threatened to banish me if I told you.”

  Connie rolled her eyes. “I’m a Banisher. Spirits without a true self-will are destroyed forever whenever they are near me,” Connie said. She nodded at Dema. “Javier has instructed me not to harm you. As long as you do not harm or threaten me.”

  Dema glared at her before rolling her eyes. “Spirit Caller, I am displeased with your choice in companions.”

  “And where exactly have you been?” I demanded of Dema.

  “Avoiding banishers,” she said, and I’m sure there was a hint of offense in her voice. “They know of me and sent hunters after me. I had to contact them for help.”

  “Dema alerted me to the situation,” Connie said. Her fun and frills were gone; replaced with a professional shrewdness I’d never seen before in her. “Isabella was returning to town for a vacation, and Javier was planning to join her. Manny and I helped hide Dema until we were sure the hunters had left town. Then we came to get you two, but you’d already left. It took us a day to find you because we couldn’t risk Dema looking for you.”

  “You are a troublesome Spirit Caller,” Dema said disapprovingly. “We must leave now.”

  I struggled to my feet and wrapped my blanket tighter. “Let me go put some clothes on.”

  Dema gave me a disgusted look. “Modesty is unbecoming of a Spirit Caller.”

  “Dema, not now!” I shouted.

  I made my way to the bedroom and pointedly shut the door. I jerked and contorted into jeans and a T-shirt, followed by a zip-up sweater. I was pulling on socks when Jeremy walked in, just as happy as you pleased in his flipping boxer shorts.

  He hauled on his faded blue jeans, the ones that hung dangerously low on his hips when he didn’t wear a belt. “Javier said we need to hurry.”

  “I had to put on socks,” I said sullenly. Unapologetically sullenly, I might add. “This was our romantic getaway.”

  He bundled me up in his arms, still shirtless. “This is what life is for us sometimes. Me rushing off to deal with accidents or some asshole beating his wife. You rushing off because some weird-ass magical shit is going down. It’s just how it is.”

  I made a face at him and began packing my suitcase. When Jeremy asked me what I was doing, I explained in a very calm, reasonable voice that I wasn’t going to let anyone pack up my dirty underwear. I was going to pack my own things and everyone could just wait.

  “Rachel! Hurry up in there!” Javier called from the living room.

  “She’s packing.”

  “Rat,” I muttered at him.

  The door flew open. Javier glowered at me. “We don’t have time.”

  I motioned vaguely at the great vastness beyond the bedroom window. “We’ll catch up later. Otherwise, get to work and start cleaning the living room.”

  “You are a very bossy Spirit Caller.” Javier succeeded in keeping most of his annoyance, and mirth, out of his voice.

  Dema let out a sigh. “I have told her this, yet she fails to heed my instruction.”

  Chapter 10

  A Very Bossy Spirit Caller

  While we cleaned the cabin —yes, I made them help—I drilled Javier and Isabella on why exactly why they interrupted my romantic weekend getaway.

  “Whisperers are looking for you,” Javier said. He was packing the last of the food into our cooler. He snagged an apple for himself and took a big, juicy bit. “They sent those spirits to find you.” Another bite. “We think.”

  I zipped up our big suitcase that had our boardgames in it. “What do you mean, you think?”

  Isabella deposited our cans and wine bottles into a plastic bag. “They’ve been known to summon the dead and send them after their target. It is easier to track a hundred undead than it is to find one person.”

  On cue, five of the flesh-ghosts that I refuse to call zombies shambled up to the open window. Connie heaved a sigh and said, “I’ll take care of them.”

  “She’s just a kid,” I said, pushing myself to my feet. Ouch, my knees ached. Was I getting old?

  Isabella held up a hand to stop me. “That kid has been doing this since she was little girl. She’s fine.”

  “But she could get hurt,” I said.

  Connie’s loud, annoyed commands interrupted me. “Go away.”

  I smirked.

  “Guys, seriously! I don’t want to banish you, but I will,” Connie said. I got the impression she was going to send them to bed without supper if they kept up their nonsense.

  The not-zombies didn’t reply. Connie sighed. She looked back in at us and said, “They aren’t hurting anyone. Can we just leave them?”

  “Destroy them,” Dema said.

  “Dema,” I urged. “Just leave alone.”

  “Rach, honey, you’re defending zombies.”

  I zipped the suitcase more forcefully than was strictly necessary. “They are not zombies, and I’m not defending them. I just want to pack my things and leave.”

  Connie shrugged. “Javier?”

  He made a face. “There’s only five of them.”

  Connie shook her finger at the not-zombies. “You guys behave.”

  “We are here for the Spirit Caller,” one of them said.

  “Aren’t we all?” Connie muttered and came back into the cabin.

  Isabella ordered Connie around in the manner only an elder sister could do. Connie and Manny brought our garbage outside to the decorative wooden bin, designed to keep the wind and small critters from spewing litter everywhere. The brightly painted moose on the lid was perhaps not completely necessary, but everyone decorated their garbage boxes.

  I thrust my luggage at Javier and, with a smirk, said, “Carry this.”

  Javier rolled his eyes, but did so. He had been too quiet and far too cranky throughout this entire unannounced visit and I was frankly tired of his black cloud of doom. Therefore, he was punished by carrying my luggage.

  We walked by the not-zombies, who moaned and bitched about how they were here for the Spirit Caller. I waved. “Outta here, boys.”

  “Spirit Caller, you must not antagonize them.”

  “Dema, look. You guys all show up here, still not explaining what’s going on, and are making me leave my mini-holiday. So excuse me for not wanting to
play nice.”

  We locked up the cabin and piled into the two boats. Manny, Connie, and Isabella went in one, while Javier came with us. Dema balanced her ethereal self on the small safety dinghy we tugged behind us. Jeremy drove the boat again, though he didn’t pretend he was James Bond on a mission this time. My stomach thanked him.

  Do you even drive a boat? I realized all of this time living around fishermen and I had no idea what you called it. Well, the boat had a steering wheel, so I’m calling it driving. I used the short ride to hammer Javier for information.

  “Why would they summon things when they are trying to stop people from summoning things?”

  Javier shrugged, and grabbed a hold of the boat’s edge. “Hypocrites aren’t known for their logic.”

  I glanced over at him. His tanned nose was turning darker and redder in the wind. “How many of your…people live in Newfoundland?”

  He gave me a wicked smile. “More since you moved here.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “So…you and Jeremy are engaged, huh? You’ll have to tell me all about it later.”

  “Don’t use your charm on me,” I said sternly. “Am I in any real danger?”

  Javier’s smile vanished. He looked out over the white-capped waves and inhaled a deep breath. When he looked back at me, his expression was grim. “I called in over a hundred people to help. We need to get you somewhere safe while we wait for the rest to arrive. I’ll feel better once they’re here.”

  I glanced at Jeremy up at the wheelhouse. He couldn’t hear us talking down here. “Is Jeremy safe? Mrs. Saunders? Are they going to hurt everyone?”

  Javier shook his head. “I don’t believe Mrs. Saunders is on their radar beyond someone who associates with you. Dema’s with us, so she’s as safe as she can be. If they were going to hurt anyone, it would most likely be Manny. If he’s with us, he’s safe.”

  “I don’t want Jeremy hurt, either,” I said. “I mean it, Javier. He’s been through enough.”

  “I can try to make him stay behind, but…”

  I let out an annoyed sound. “He’d insist on coming. I don’t want him to get hurt again. It’s been…hard on us. I want to have a wedding. Don’t you dare let anything happen to him.”

  Javier was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’ll do everything I can.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked down and nodded my thanks. I wiped at my eyes and forced down the lump in my throat. I needed to be strong for Jeremy right now. Javier was right about one thing. Jeremy would absolutely follow me no matter what. There was the practical side of having a Mountie with us, in case we got into huge trouble. There was also the comfort of having him by my side.

  There was also the terrifying side that he wasn’t one-hundred percent and he could get hurt again. There was even the little voice that told me he might freeze at the sight of a gun pointed at him. Everyone reacted differently. Bringing him could get him hurt. Or, I could get hurt trying to protect him; he’d never forgive himself for that.

  I also knew he was thinking all of this right now, too and probably also knew I was worrying. When we got off the boat, he’d put on a brave face and fight through everything because he’d want to stay strong for me. And he’d know that I’d know, and he’d still do it all anyway.

  “Jeremy probably should come.”

  Javier nodded. “You won’t be able to stop him from helping.”

  “He can be pretty stubborn,” I admitted.

  “We all can be when we want to be.”

  We made landfall. Jeremy and Isabella tied the boats up. Manny pulled out his phone to call his mother. He walked around a bit until he announced he had a bar of service. “Hey Mom. I’m about to lose service. Rachel didn’t need help at her cabin after all. She says thanks, though. Can you drop by and see Mrs. Saunders? Rachel was supposed to visit her today, but we’re all going down to Bonne Bay for a drive. Thanks, Mom.” After a pause, he muttered, “Love you.”

  He shoved his phone into his pocket. “Voice mail.”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “What? Javier asked her.”

  I glared at Javier. “You asked Irene O’Toole to help?” He walked to the parking lot just up the small incline. I jogged to keep up with him.

  “Rachel, we’re in a hurry.”

  “I don’t care, Javier. You don’t get to bring Irene freaking O’Toole into my private life without asking me first. Do you understand?”

  “Sorry, Rachel,” Manny said.

  I turned to face Manny. “I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with Javier. You know better!”

  Javier spun around. “I’m trying to get you as far away from here as I can.”

  I huffed out a rude, “Fine,” and waited for Jeremy to catch up. He’d lagged behind because he is very particular about boat knots and was most likely showing Isabella how to do a proper knot, ignoring that there is something so crazy about to happen that Javier needed a hundred people to back him up.

  I mean, that night, we just had Javier.

  And Jeremy was shot.

  Multiple times.

  With a gun.

  This time, Javier needed help.

  “Are they going to drop nukes on us?” I asked.

  “What?”

  I gave Javier a shrug. “Well, they just sent you the last time. Why do you need a mini-army this time? Are they going to nuke us?”

  In a very patient voice, Javier said, “No, Rachel. They are not going to drop nuclear weapons on us.”

  Even though my stomach churned and rolled with the worry and anxiety of not knowing what was in our immediate future, I managed to force a wry smile. “Well, then, Mr. Javier. It can’t be that much of an emergency.”

  Javier smiled, even though I was pretty darn sure that was making him more annoyed with me. He motioned at a white van with rental plates. Misty Monroe would not have approved. We wouldn’t even be inconspicuous in this monstrosity!

  I eyed the vehicle. “How were we supposed to make a speedy getaway in a van?”

  “Our getaway vehicle is a white extended van,” Jeremy said with a huge ice cream scoop of amusement in his voice. “I love this plan.”

  I rolled my eyes—if I kept it up, I was going to do permanent damage—and opened the side panel. I began to slide into the middle row of seats when I realized there was a woman sitting quietly in the back row of seats. My jaw dropped and I gulped down the lump in my throat. I took my seat and gathered my thoughts, trying desperately to keep a polite smile on my face.

  My bio mother sat there, staring at me with a guarded expression. She was in her mid- to late-forties. I realized I hadn’t asked her the last time we’d met. More grey strands stood out against her black hair than I remembered from before. Her strong, dark features had more creases and lines than the last time I’d seen her, though she looked in better shape. Not in an exercising way, but in a less-stress-in-the-eyes way.

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry. Javier made me.”

  It took me a moment to adjust to how Mary spoke to people. She often sensed or saw what someone might say and would just skip ahead in the conversation. It made talking to her very difficult. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

  She frowned when she said, “Javier.”

  There was still so much pain inside me when I looked at her. A pain that couldn’t disappear with an apology. Nothing would replace the ache my younger self endured whenever I thought about how I’d been abandoned by this woman. No metaphor, either. She actually abandoned me on a doorstep in the middle of winter.

  That child’s anger rose up in me, but I pushed it back down. That was a long time ago. It had no place here. Instead, I very cautiously asked, “How are you doing, Mary?”

  Mary wasn’t looking at me any longer. “I said I shouldn’t have come.”

  Manny and Connie climbed into the van, and Jeremy came in after them. After taking his seat next to me, Jeremy squeezed my hand, but stayed silent. He und
erstood.

  Isabella and Javier jumped into the passenger and driver seats respectively. Javier shoved the keys into the ignition and said, “Mary, we need you here.”

  “I should be with Mrs. Saunders,” Mary muttered.

  Isabella looked over her shoulder. “Mary, you should be here.”

  I gathered up all of my politeness and maturity and I said, “It’s okay, Mary. It’s…good to see you again.”

  She grew quiet for a moment. Whatever abilities she had, they obviously weren’t perfect. Confusion spread across her face. She hadn’t expected my comment. “There is medication I take. It helps. Sometimes. Not always.”

  “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

  “I hope so,” Mary said. She turned to look out the window, conversation now over.

  I didn’t take offense. Arriving unannounced, seeing me again, and the threat of whatever it was that was pressing down on us were probably too much for her to handle at once. I could respect her ending the conversation.

  She had told me before that being around the Whisperers affected her negatively. I frowned. “Javier, are the Whisperers here? Is that who we’re running from?”

  “Them and others,” Isabella answered. Javier was busy getting us out of the tiny fishing village and on to the main road heading back out to the secondary highway.

  I glanced back at Mary. She was staring blankly out of the window. I didn’t know…I let out a deep breath. I didn’t know.

  Mary turned to look at me. She gave me a small, little smile. Then, back to the window.

  I hated leaving home. Home was where I felt my power. I don’t just mean power in the spooky sense that Dema is always harping on me to embrace. I mean the power of identity. I am Rachel from Wisemen’s Cove. That’s who I am. I own the house with a wooden deck that overlooks the ocean. Visitors knew my house because it had a white garbage box at the end of my driveway, yet another gift from Jeremy’s father.

  My notebook with all of my notes was home. My little medicine bag that I’d had since infancy was there. My identity was there.

  I knew the spirits that frequented the area. Some I even knew by name, such as Mrs. McAvoy. Some I just knew by location, like the little girl at the grocery store. But I knew them and, in a weird way, I trusted them. If I needed help, something inside of me said I could call on them and they would come. There was a lot of security in that, and now that security was gone.