Olivia Lawson Techno-Shaman Books 1 -3

by Green, M. Terry

  Livvy pointed directly at her mother’s chest and mouthed “You.” Then she pointed at a nearby building. “Go.” Her mom looked at her and then the building, frowned, and shook her head no. Livvy quickly repeated the gestures.

  “You. Go. Now.”

  They locked gazes.

  “Please,” Livvy implored silently.

  Her mom glanced at the shamans behind Livvy and the growing number of spirit helpers. Finally, she nodded. Livvy watched her for a couple of moments as she ran toward the building.

  Without warning or turning around, Livvy reached a hand to the sky. “Lightning,” she said.

  A crashing thunder peal rattled the plaza. Windows reflected light in jittery waves and birds took flight. The lightning erupted on top of her hand. The other arm still gripped Juan. Livvy looked down at him.

  He was grinning wildly, elated at the feeling of energy that surged through them both. She put her mouth next to his ear. “When I say now, extend your arms.”

  She didn’t wait for his response but whirled them both around and yelled, “Now!”

  As instructed, he pointed both his arms in front of him as Livvy charged forward. Holding him around the middle, she aimed him like he was a cannon.

  Lightning leapt from his hands and struck at two points along the ground as they headed directly for the water. As they moved forward, two lines of small craters were burned into the pavement like two paths of giant, black, smoking steppingstones. They led toward the locations of the two shamans.

  With only seconds to spare, each of them leapt aside to avoid being incinerated.

  The redhead scrambled to her feet. “Wind,” she screamed but it was too late.

  With one, long and soaring leap, Livvy and Juan landed in the fountain.

  • • • • •

  As soon as she surfaced, Livvy realized she wasn’t alone in the black lake. Hands reached out to help her. It was Min.

  They both dragged Juan to the shore where he collapsed to his knees. Livvy was breathing hard and bent over to catch her breath.

  “SK sent me,” said Min. “I was just about to submerge.”

  Livvy could only nod.

  She’d been right. Time had almost run out. Another minute and Min would have been in the Underworld, seen the other shamans, and worse, seen her mother.

  Livvy stood up and looked down at Juan, who seemed completely drained, not even noticing Min.

  “Livvy, what happened to your shoulder?” Min asked, alarmed.

  “Ancestor spirit,” Livvy finally managed, then she looked down at it.

  The pain there had turned into a dull thrumming but even through the wet clothes, the stain was still spreading.

  “I think we’d better get out of here,” Min said, helping Juan to his feet.

  “Sounds good to me,” Livvy agreed.

  • • • • •

  Livvy started to reach up to remove her goggles, but the pain in her shoulder stopped her. She sucked in a quick breath.

  “Liv, what is it?” she heard SK ask.

  “My shoulder,” she exhaled. “Can you get the goggles?”

  She felt his fingers around the padded edges of the goggles and saw the light of the room once he lifted them away. She blinked at the ceiling and saw SK’s concerned face. She tried to sit up.

  “Just stay there for a second,” said SK, and she felt his hand on her arm.

  She lay back down with a thud.

  “Did she say her shoulder?” Livvy heard Min ask.

  “Yes,” said SK. “What happened?”

  “Here, let me take a look,” said Min and her face appeared. “I’m going to move your coat aside. Let me know if it hurts.”

  Gently, Min lifted the lapel of her silver coat and looked underneath.

  “Oh gods, Livvy, you’re bleeding,” she said.

  “Bleeding?” SK said, moving closer, his voice tense. “How much? How is that possible? What happened over there?”

  “I don’t think it’s much,” said Min. “Most of it’s dry, actually.”

  “Ancestor spirit,” said Livvy. “It turns out Carmen was right. Soul fragmentation too. Anyway, he managed to plant an obsidian knife in my shoulder.”

  Livvy looked down at the area as Min lifted the edge of her V-neckline and pulled gently back. While not nearly the size of the wound in the Multiverse, there was still a one-inch gash where the knife had been. It had already started to clot, but her shirt had a fist-sized red blotch on it.

  “It’s okay,” said Livvy. “The pain is already subsiding.”

  “Like hell, it’s okay,” said SK.

  Then the headache started.

  “Tissue?” Livvy whispered, knowing what would be next. Min fetched it from her bag and Livvy quickly put it to her nose.

  Then she heard Juan stir behind Min. “What’s going on?” he said, his voice thick and groggy.

  “Help me up,” Livvy whispered, wiping at her nose.

  She sat up on her mat, flanked by the two of them, one on each arm as support. Juan was sitting up as well. He glanced around the room at the three faces.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “How do you feel?” Livvy asked, ignoring the headache, though she had to sniff.

  “I feel fine,” he said, without thinking. He paused. “No, actually,” he said, slowly. “I feel better than fine. I feel great!”

  It must be the lingering aftereffect of the lightning she had channeled through him, she thought. No doubt he felt good.

  “Am I cured?” he asked, looking at each one in turn.

  “Any voices?” asked Livvy.

  He listened and looked at the ceiling then bowed his head as though he were trying to hear something faint.

  Livvy and Min exchanged looks.

  Finally, Juan raised his head.

  “Nothing,” he said, grinning. “Not a thing.”

  Livvy nodded and smiled. “Then you’re cured,” she said.

  “Then it’s time for us to go,” said SK.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “WHAT KIND OF crew was that?” Pipsqueak asked as Dominique took off her goggles.

  Dominique ignored her. Since her question had lacked the ‘ma’am’ at the end, she knew Pipsqueak wasn’t addressing her. She hardly heard her anyway as she seethed over the missed opportunity–even with the tactical advantage. Maybe new shamans were in order. These ones obviously weren’t up to the task.

  From where she was sitting, with her mat at the front and at a right angle to the rest, Dominique looked sideways at her squad. Pipsqueak was a decent shaman but mostly around for her electronic skills. She got to her feet.

  “No worries though,” Pipsqueak said to Tambourine. “She ran. Kind of weird how we could see through her.” She picked up her water bottle and took a drink.

  “Repeat that,” Dominique demanded.

  Most of the other shamans in the room would have stammered but Pipsqueak had been with her long enough. In a monotone that nearly sounded like a robot, she repeated herself. “No worries though. She ran. Kind of weird how we could see through her.”

  “See through who?”

  “There was a woman with her,” Pipsqueak said. “I thought it was another shaman. We both did.”

  Dominique glanced at Tambourine, who was nodding, then focused back on Pipsqueak.

  “Who was she?”

  “I don’t know. The lightning shaman said something to her, or did sign language with her or something, and she ran off.”

  Dominique stared hard at Pipsqueak. “You’re sure.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Dominique looked over to Tambourine, who was still nodding.

  The full water bottle in Dominique’s hand crackled and it started to leak from the cap.

  As Pipsqueak fetched paper towels, Dominique watched the drops without seeing them and nodded silently to herself.

  There was more to Liver than she had imagined.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOU
R

  SK WAITED, ARMS crossed, his foot tapping out an impatient staccato. He stood with Nacho in front of the sliding glass door that led to the rooftop garden.

  Min had insisted on putting a bandage over the nearly healed wound on the front of Livvy’s shoulder. As inexplicably as the gash had appeared, it was now almost gone.

  First, the unwelcome visits from Dominique, thought SK, now something in the real world that should have stayed in the Multiverse.

  Something was changing.

  Although Min had only just arrived in the Middleworld when Livvy had emerged with Juan from the black lake, she hadn’t reported seeing any other shamans or anything unusual. That, at least, was good. Min had asked about the upcoming appointment with Claire and whether it would be canceled.

  That was going to be a problem.

  “Let’s wait on that,” he said. “Why don’t you go home, get some rest.”

  Worried about Livvy, Min had wanted to stay, but SK simply said he needed to talk to Livvy, alone.

  “I understand,” Min said.

  SK was pretty sure that she didn’t.

  Livvy was tugging down the sleeves of the blouse she’d just put on when she came back into the living room.

  “Where’s Min?” she asked.

  “She’s gone home,” SK said. “I’ll give her a call later.”

  “Oh,” said Livvy, sounding surprised.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  She lowered her gaze to the floor. “Oh,” she whispered.

  Livvy had stopped at the edge of the living room, as though she were afraid to enter. When in doubt, she bit her lower lip. Sometimes when she did that, she was worried about something serious, a client usually. Sometimes, she was just trying to pick the type of tea she’d order. SK had never mentioned it to her, afraid that she might stop. It let him know when she was unsure. It was also kind of charming. She was biting her lower lip now.

  “It’s all right,” he said, even though he knew it wasn’t. “Why don’t you sit down.”

  “I can do that,” she said but didn’t look up.

  She stepped past the two chairs and coffee table and curled up on the far end of the couch. She drew a pillow in front of her and finally turned her eyes to him, on nearly the same level. Nacho jumped on the couch next to her and Livvy absently stroked his back.

  Although the sky was overcast, the sun had found a small gap at the horizon as it was setting. Behind SK, a warm red glow flooded through the glass doors. As Livvy waited for him to say something, he found himself mesmerized, as though it had been ages since he’d seen her in sunlight. Her hair took on a faint orange tint and the green of her eyes brightened. She looked directly into the sunset for a moment, intensifying the effect, and then back to SK.

  He remembered her in the restaurant. It was so easy to stop thinking of her as a shaman. All these months trying to deny how attractive she was–it suddenly seemed like a weight he’d been carrying. He had set it down, briefly, but it was time to pick it up again. He put his hands in his pockets and began casually.

  “Min says she met you in the Middleworld,” he said.

  Livvy nodded. “I was just bringing Juan out of the black lake,” she confirmed.

  “You say there was an ancestor spirit involved.”

  “Yeah, Min was right about soul fragmentation–there were three Juans–but it turns out Carmen was right about the ancestor spirit after all.”

  Livvy recounted the story of the Maya warrior and the obsidian blade. SK listened and watched as she relaxed, looking more comfortable than he’d seen her all day. She rubbed the front of her shoulder when she described the fight.

  “I have no idea why it should have manifested in the real world,” she said. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

  “It shouldn’t be,” he said. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “You know, I hardly feel it anymore.”

  “How’s your wrist?”

  Livvy ran her fingers over the bruises there. “Oh it’s fine,” she said, not looking at it. “He didn’t want to hurt me.”

  “And what about Dominique?”

  The sudden turn in conversation had surprised her, as intended. Her face changed immediately, her expression guarded. “What about her?” she asked.

  “Did she appear in the Underworld?”

  “No,” Livvy said quickly. “I didn’t see her.”

  She was lying. SK was certain of it. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. Why would she lie about it? She had been the one to ask for his help. Why keep it from him now?

  He looked up at her. Maybe there was another way to get at the truth.

  “Why the resistance to Min?”

  Again, she seemed surprised. “I’m not resisting Min,” she countered. “Min was there.”

  “She was there because I decided to add her, but she should have been there from the start.”

  “She would have confused things,” said Livvy. “Gotten in the way.”

  They locked eyes for a moment.

  “Liv,” he said simply, but the one word said a lot.

  She had been the one to network goggles for the first time. Livvy knew better than anybody how shamans could help one another in the Multiverse.

  “I work better alone,” she said, looking away.

  So transparent. Does keeping Min at a distance have something to do with Dominique?

  He wasn’t getting anywhere with either line of questions.

  He paused and took a deep breath, taking care to soften his voice. “About the other night,” he said, as he stared hard at his shoes.

  He wanted to strike the right tone, something completely neutral, right down the middle. They both needed to regain their balance and maybe some distance too. Finally, he looked up at her.

  The last rays of the setting sun were glinting, positively dancing, in her eyes. Startled, he saw they were filling with tears. She clutched the pillow in front of her like it was a life preserver and he felt his chest tighten. Whatever words he had been about to say caught in his throat.

  “SK, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling and low. “I am so, so sorry.”

  As neutral as he had hoped to be, she was the complete opposite. She was more than sorry. Never able to hide what she was feeling, raw emotion filled her voice. “Sorry” didn’t even come close to what it expressed.

  Suddenly, SK found himself standing at the end of the couch, directly in front of her.

  How had that happened?

  He reached a hand out to her arm and a bright blue spark popped. Without hesitation, he reached up and touched the soft skin of her cheek. He looked directly into her eyes, the pupils expanded as if with surprise. Her lips parted as if she might say something. Fearing that she might, he closed the distance. His hand slipped behind her ear and then her neck. He drew her gently forward as he leaned in. For a moment, he paused, as he realized what he was doing.

  Then, his lips were on hers–the sensation, magnetic. Her lips were soft and warm and for an instant he thought he smelled…rain. She responded to him in slow motion, as though she too had just realized what was happening. She kissed him back lightly, but a rush of emotions jolted through him.

  He knew Livvy, sometimes better than she knew herself, but this–this other side to her–he had not suspected. He closed his eyes and imagined the moment never ending, inhaled the fragrance of rain, and felt the silky smoothness of her lips.

  Finally, with more effort than should have been necessary, he slowly drew back and felt the last lingering brush of her lips against his. He opened his eyes.

  Her eyes were still closed and he watched in fascination as a small furrow appeared between her eyebrows. He gently smoothed it with a finger before letting her go and she eventually opened her eyes. For several long moments, they stayed like that, just looking at one another. He saw a hint of confusion in her face and realized he probably looked the same.

  He certainly felt co
nfused. Surely kissing her had not been what he’d intended.

  Had it?

  A smile gradually formed on her lips, matched by his own. He slowly backed up. Rather than risk a word that might ruin this moment, this phenomenal feeling, he simply walked to the front door and left.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  LUCKILY, THIS WOMAN had never seen Dominique or the shaman that she’d brought with her this time. As she’d expected, the woman was loitering in the plaza–waiting for Liver to return. Only Pipsqueak and Tambourine had seen her or been seen.

  Even so, the woman immediately started to back away.

  Dominique quickly held up the necklace, a silver chain with an amethyst crystal pendant. Then showed her what she held in the other hand by opening her fingers to reveal three, small, irregularly shaped balls resting in her palm. She offered them to the woman.

  When the woman stopped and looked at them, Dominique offered them again, raising them a little higher. “For you,” she mouthed.

  She turned to the other shaman. “Get the torch ready.”

  Although the fading woman hadn’t come forward, she had stopped backing away and was watching them. Dominique had guessed that one amethyst pendant would look like any other.

  The other shaman took the tall torch, which was already burning, raised it up as high as she could, and then impaled the bottom into the ground. She tentatively released it, making sure it didn’t topple, and then turned her weaselly face up to Dominique and backed away.

  Dominique turned toward the fading woman, flashed her practiced smile, and beckoned her forward, still holding out the three balls. “For you,” she mouthed again. “Come.”

  The woman hesitated, looked at the crystal Dominique held, and took a few steps forward.

  “Yes,” Dominique said and beckoned her closer.

  Only a few paces away, Dominique held up her hand to stop, which the woman did. She was starting to take orders well.

  The first ball was white or, to be more precise, the color of bleached bone, since that’s precisely what it was. In the real world, she had crushed the chicken bones in a mortar and then used drippings from the roasting pan as a binder, rolling the mush into a ball. She deftly popped it into the torch where it sparkled briefly, causing the flame to rise higher and smoke to pour from it. Dominique fanned it lightly and the smoke drifted in languid, curved tendrils toward the faded woman. They gently washed over her as she closed her eyes.