Heaving a long sigh, she finally spoke. “Well, hello, pot. Kettle calling. You’ve got a hell of a lot of nerve, Ezra, talking to me about the truth.”
They both stood still for a long time, neither one speaking. Vivian caved first and turned around to face the old spirit. His head was down, shoulders slumped, and she swore that she felt a slight dip in the temperature of the air surrounding them. A touch of pity tugged at her heartstrings, but she buried it deep.
She wasn’t ready to forgive him just yet.
He spoke in a very soft voice, “I reckon I’ve been asking for that. We need to sit down and have us a little talk, you and me.”
“Won’t change anything.” She shrugged. “I’m still stuck halfway between the living and the dead, I’m still as beholden to you as I would have been had you collected my soul when you were supposed to, and I still lost Zeke.” She had to turn away at the last.
Of all the betrayals and losses she’d faced, Zeke’s loss was the hardest. It was a raw wound carved deep in her soul, one she feared would never heal.
“Child,” he began. “I never meant for you to get hurt so bad. I know you loved that boy.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and Ezra’s healing warmth, but she pulled herself away and busied herself setting the table.
He grabbed a couple of plates and started helping, but he wasn’t done talking quite yet. “You done right by him, letting him go, and you done right by sticking around and helping folks with your powers instead of giving up and crossing to the other side.”
He paused, looking like he didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? She’d fallen in love with the personal guardian that Ezra had sent her, but she’d wound up taking care of the debt Ezra had owed the reapers in exchange for Zeke’s safe passage, not to mention her sister’s, to the other side.
Then again, had Ezra told her the truth when he’d had the chance, she’d be dead. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened to Mae. Or Zeke.
Clearing his throat, he offered, “I thought you was moving on with things. You been a-courting Mister Jace for a spell.”
“Yeah, but…” She stopped. Jace was a good man. He was funny, smart, and he wasn’t bad in the sack. Of course, Zeke had been on a whole different level. Sex with a corporeal spirit was an otherworldly experience, to put it mildly.
But that wasn’t the real issue.
“Ezra, my life isn’t normal. How am I supposed to work with you and your kind and keep it secret from a living man? Do I have to keep it a secret?”
“Maybe not, if you think we can trust him,” Ezra said. He sat down at his usual place at Vivian’s table, careful not to disturb her place settings. She’d put out the good china that she inherited from her mom, as she often did during their meetings to discuss ongoing and upcoming cases.
He spent a few moments lost in his thoughts before nodding. “Fine. I’d say it’d be all right by me if you told him. We can always have him forget if he gave us trouble. You think you’ll be keeping him around for the long haul?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. That was the big question, one she couldn’t answer at the moment.
Before they had the chance to continue their conversation, they were interrupted by a commotion outside of Vivian’s back door.
CHAPTER 4
The flash of white light caught her eye just before a cry of shock and pain registered in her ears. Ezra disappeared in a flash as she dropped her spoon and dashed out the back in time to watch Father Lloyd Montgomery fall to the floor of her deck. The cool of the early summer evening quickly heated as rage radiated from Ezra, who’d materialized on the deck beside the priest. He practically glowed with spirit energy.
Vivian ran to the priest and cradled his head in her lap.
“Padre,” she gasped. “What happened? Are you okay? Answer me!”
He opened his eyes with great effort, his breathing labored. His complexion was ashen and he seemed to be struggling to remain conscious, “Vivian,” he whispered. “Danger…Ezra?”
“He’s here, Padre, and he’s got reinforcements.” Jeanne and Wallace had appeared shortly after she found the priest. They’d fanned out with Ezra in search of his attacker. She marveled at the speed with which they moved through her backyard and the surrounding neighborhood. They floated, flew, and dashed in a supernatural whirlwind of pursuit.
The priest’s coughing tore her attention away from the display of spirit power and back to his deteriorating condition. “What did this to you? Was it a reaper?”
“Don’t…know…came from behind. Said to…stop.” His eyes rolled back and he started slipping away.
“Father Montgomery? Padre! Oh, Jesus, stay with me,” she pleaded, rubbing his face and trying to revive him. “Ezra! Jeanne! Anyone! Help!”
The guardians were nowhere in sight, apparently still caught up in pursuit of the unknown spirit assailant while Vivian sat powerless and terrified. She and Lloyd Montgomery had been through Hell together, literally, and he was the only friend she had who knew about her association with the world of spirits. She couldn’t lose him. Steeling herself, she focused her mind on the padre, intent on drawing his pain and suffering in an effort to stabilize him until she could get help.
She’d only ever channeled deep wounds of the soul, the mental and emotional sort. Physical injury was still uncharted territory. She’d only managed once or twice, and that had been by accident.
Small wisps of light flowed from the limp and listless body of the priest and into Vivian, though he didn’t rouse. The light was pale and she felt nothing from it. He was fading fast, his breathing shallow and slow. Damn!
“Padre, come on, stay with me, stay, you have to stay,” she whispered. A wave of panic hit her, followed by despair and anger.
“No. I’m not going to lose anyone else. Do you hear me?” she shouted to the heavens and whatever force had done this horrible thing. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and that fueled her rage and heartache. She’d lost Mae, her sister, before she’d even had the chance to say goodbye. And she’d lost Zeke. She couldn’t lose the priest, too.
She grabbed Father Montgomery by the shoulders and shook him. “You aren’t going to bail on me now, you hear me? Wake up!”
Light poured out of her eyes, her open mouth, and out of her pores, the same light she’d seen from Zeke, brilliant white and almost blinding. Taking a small ray in through a weak breath, the priest latched onto her arm and with the last of his strength pulled her closer. He heaved a breath and drew her light again, and then another deep breath, and another as her light flowed into him.
She was relieved that he was reviving, but she was beginning to feel light-headed. The wave of dizziness nearly knocked her off balance as she struggled to rein in the power of her spirit energy.
“Padre,” she said, trying to wriggle out of his iron grip. “That’s enough.”
He held her tightly and continued to inhale deeply. She couldn’t get away and she was growing weaker. Her breaths came in shallow rasps as she tried to hold onto consciousness. Spots danced before her eyes as her vision blurred and her stomach clenched. Vivian continued to struggle, becoming more desperate. Finally, she knocked her head against his as hard as she could, and he let her go.
“Ugh.” He moaned, rubbing his forehead and sitting up. Vivian leaned against the side of the house for support and tried to clear her head, taking in great gulps of air as she recovered. Her body was too warm, almost feverish, and it ached like she’d been hit by a Mack truck.
“Vivian?” came the padre’s voice through the fog. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure,” she said, placing her head between her knees and taking a few more deep breaths. “Are you?”
“I’m feeling much better,” he said. His voice was louder, and Vivian figured he’d moved to sit beside her. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” she muttered, and then slowly raised her head to look at him. “But we can talk about that later
. What happened?”
“I was heading up to your front door and saw someone rounding the corner of your house. I thought it might be Ezra, so I followed. I needed to have a chat with him. When I climbed up the back steps, he grabbed me from behind. He said, ‘This is a warning for you and your friends. Stop interfering in our affairs. Stop the woman.’ Then he…well, I’m not sure what he did, exactly, but I thought my heart had stopped beating. I was on the ground and you came out.”
“I saw a white light. You were attacked by a spirit?”
“It must have been a spirit,” he said, rubbing his temples again. “Vivian, you have a very hard head.”
“So do you, Padre,” she replied with a nervous chuckle. Then she sat up with a jolt, which would have merited some colorful language had she not been so taken by her next thought. “We saw light…the spirit shot white light. How did you feel just before? When he grabbed you?”
“Quite terrified,” the priest replied.
“No,” she said quickly and with little patience. “Was it cold?”
“No,” the priest mused. “As a matter of fact, it was unusually warm.”
“Shit!”
“What?” the priest’s concern was genuine. Vivian didn’t even get a raised brow on account of her language.
“Then it wasn’t a reaper. It was…but how’s that possible? It was—”
“A guardian,” Ezra’s voice chimed in. “We got ourselves a rogue guardian, and he’s after you, Miss Vivian.”
CHAPTER 5
Vivian woke up with a killer headache and a ravenous appetite. Lucky for her, Jeanne had figured out how to work the coffee maker and also had breakfast on the table. After the events of the previous night, Jeanne had volunteered to keep an eye on her. Wallace got assigned to Father Montgomery while Ezra went off to consult with his superiors, presumably other guardians. Vivian thought the padre had gotten the shit end of the stick. She’d rather face a dozen reapers than be stuck with Wallace the surly spirit for the foreseeable future.
Vivian grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at her table across from the corporeal spirit. It always amazed her how real they looked. Jeanne appeared as fresh and vital as any university co-ed, with her bright eyes, blond hair swept up in a neat ponytail that sat high on her head, and her capacity to scarf down food like your average frat boy. And yet, after she’d tapped out on her spirit energy, that form would return to dust as she returned to her incorporeal form.
It was magic. Zeke tried to convince her it was simply physics working in harmony with the available elements, but building a physical body that so perfectly matched that of a living, breathing person? Nope. Had to be magic. Seeing it almost made her a true believer.
Almost, but not quite. Faith and Vivian Bedford hadn’t been on speaking terms for a very long time.
“So,” Jeanne began, helping herself to a waffle and some sausages. “You’re a true healer? That’s a rare talent. There are few real guardians who are capable of that, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know that. I don’t know much of anything, to tell you the truth. Ezra’s not big on full disclosure,” Vivian replied with bitterness, remembering their conversation from the night before.
“Of course not, honey,” she said, her voice muffled by virtue of the wad of food occupying her mouth. “You’re just a human.” Like most spirits she’d met, Jeanne relished food and drink while in corporeal form.
And, like most spirits, Jeanne didn’t see her as an equal. Living soul brokers were rare, and apparently ranked somewhere between unpaid interns and underappreciated lackeys in the afterlife management hierarchy. At least that was how Vivian perceived it.
She didn’t appreciate it, and since Jeanne was a handy target, she’d unleash her frustration while making a case for a higher clearance level. “I’m a human who happens to be able to suck the life burdens from other humans and ease their suffering, who can toss the light with the best of your kind, and who can apparently heal physical wounds. I think I deserve a little more respect, not to mention a little more info.”
Jeanne shrugged. “Fair enough, I suppose. Ezra didn’t give me permission to talk about this stuff with you, but he didn’t tell me not to either.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she leaned down and whispered, “What do you want to know?”
Wow, that had been easier than she’d expected, and her heart raced with giddy anticipation. At last, a chance to get some real answers.
“First off, what’s this ‘true healer’ business? Jesus, I just got the hang of collecting burdens of the mind and heart.”
Jeanne shrugged again. “A true healer is just…well, a true healer. You know, someone who can heal the sick?”
Vivian leaned in and said, “Really? Like I can make the lame walk, the blind see, that sort of thing, or do my powers only work for spirit zaps?”
Jeanne thought for a moment. “Well, from what I understand, you should be able to heal all manner of physical injuries and ills. It’s really an extension of your ability to help people with their emotional and spiritual burdens. Just be careful. Don’t overdo it until you know your limits.”
“You mean I have to work out how to heal bodies, too? Is that why I feel like stir-fried dog shit this morning?” Vivian grumbled.
“You just need to get your strength back, shug,” Jeanne replied with a smile. “Eat up!”
Fucking morning people.
Vivian was annoyed by chirpy folks in the a.m., spirits being no exception. Still, she didn’t want to blow her chance to get more information about her condition. “Okay, so as long as I eat and get some down time, I’m not in any danger if I play faith-healer?”
“Well…” Jeanne said, appearing thoughtful once more. “I know that real guardians have to return to our realm and replenish our energy—”
“How do you do that?” Vivian interrupted. She remembered Ezra telling her that Zeke had to recharge his battery after she’d zapped him by accident. That was shortly after she’d taken in his spiritual light during a very carnal union. She’d always suspected a connection between the two, but naturally hadn’t broached the subject with Ezra.
“Oh, it involves a communion of sorts,” Jeanne said with a vague wave of her hands.
“Is that what they call it up there in the clouds?” Vivian asked, her voice dripping with irony.
“Humph!” Jeanne scolded primly. “Not in the sense that you mean or probably ‘experienced.’ We don’t keep corporeal form there. But, in a sense, we draw energy from one another, which we collect through our work with the living and the crossing of souls.”
“Like the kind of energy Ezra and Darkmore wanted from my sister?”
Mae, her departed sister, had spent most of her life suffering from a severe disability that rendered her helpless. With Mae unable to walk, talk, or see to even the most basic of self-care needs, their mother had cared for Mae around the clock until both their mother and father died in a freak accident while on vacation. Vivian had become Mae’s primary caregiver then. After unwittingly forming an association with the world of spirits, Vivian discovered that living souls like Mae possessed enormous reservoirs of spirit energy—the kind that guardians and reapers harvested while helping spirits cross to other realms.
Once she understood that both Ezra and Darkmore wanted Mae’s energy, Vivian had gone to great lengths to protect her. It had almost cost Vivian her life, her soul, and had obliged her to serve as an assistant to Ezra and the guardians as a living soul broker for the duration of her mortal life.
Most likely she’d have to still serve after she passed, but she’d cross that bridge when she got to it.
“Like the kind of energy that every living human possesses and releases upon their crossing,” Jeanne corrected, maybe a bit too quickly. She looked at Vivian and then added with a more gentle tone, “Your sister was quite special, as are all like her. We don’t relish their suffering. By harnessing their suffering and the energy that comes with it, however, we can ma
ke a difference in the lives of others who suffer.”
Vivian nodded. It made sense, and Jeanne seemed sincere in her convictions. Still, the idea of harnessing spirit energy, essentially the life force, of the disabled and other vulnerable, downtrodden humans left Vivian uneasy. Who decided how much energy to harvest? Which guardians took that energy? Zeke had mentioned something about allotments of energy. That suggested that someone banked it and doled it out as necessary.
Or as he or she saw fit. Vivian doubted there was much regulation. The whole afterlife operation management system seemed more pyramid scheme than run-of-the-mill corporate structure. She’d have to investigate a bit more.
Jeanne’s voice brought her out of her musings and back to the conversation. “So, what else do you want to know?”
The question of most immediate concern seemed obvious enough. “What’s the deal with this rogue guardian? I thought you were all on the same team.”
“Most of us are,” Jeanne said, taking on a more serious tone. “But there has been some dissent among the council regarding the activities of humans like you, not to mention among and about those of us in the field. It seems as though one of us has decided to take matters into his own hands.”
Council? Field agents? Forget pyramid schemes. This was like the friggin’ FBI!
“Glad to know you folks are having so many meetings about me,” Vivian snapped. “And thanks for keeping me in the loop. You really need to work on an instruction manual for unwitting human helpers.”
Vivian paused mid-rant, letting the rest of Jeanne’s words set in. “Wait a minute…you said ‘humans like you.’ So I’m not the only one?”
Jeanne just shrugged as though Vivian had stated the obvious.
“Who are the others? Where are they? Can I meet some?” God, she wasn’t alone! Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how isolated she’d been, how she’d yearned for the company of someone—anyone—who understood. Zeke had provided that when she’d first entered the world of spirits.
Raising the Dead Page 4