Stolen Sight (AIR Book 3)

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Stolen Sight (AIR Book 3) Page 6

by Amanda Booloodian


  From the ground, I looked up the stairs. Like water pouring over the landscape, colors rippled over everything. My own Path was invisible to me, so the colors on the stairs were muted traces from the past that had mostly been wiped away.

  There was something there, though. A shock of purple and blue wrapped in dark red.

  It was energy. Released energy, but no sign of what had left it behind. I couldn't see any traces of a person. Only the burst of energy. Turning my head, I could see into the kitchen. Similar bursts of energy had been released there as well.

  The rush of the Path was starting to buffet me around. I began to see ghostly traces of last night's visitors, Vincent and Ethan. It was getting hard for me to shift back into the present, but that's where I needed to be, so I fought hard to keep myself there.

  Something was here. It had to be. The power didn’t gather there on its own.

  Somewhere from the floor, I heard my phone ring. Then the back door crashed open. Was it there? I tried to scramble to my feet, but stopped when Logan ran into the room. With the full onslaught of the Path, Logan's hidden explosion of gold was visible, and right now, it had ruby tinges. I could also see the dense black spot that Logan kept buried deep. Anytime I saw it, it filled me with dread.

  Logan had his gun drawn and his ears were unfurled to their points. He looked like he was trying to look every direction at once.

  "Where are they?" Logan asked, keeping his voice low.

  "I only see spots. No traces of movement." I kept my voice low as well so Logan could hear over me.

  He was on the balls of his feet and appeared to be concentrating on the sounds in the house. I heard Gran's cat hiss. Logan ran into Gran's bedroom as the cat ran out. It charged straight at me and jumped.

  I was expecting claws and teeth. Instead, the cat shook and tried to hide its head in the crook of my arm. My heart broke seeing the little guy so scared. There was a crash in Gran's bedroom. The cat ran off. I sprang to my feet, my body protesting, and dashed to the room. Logan was jumping to his feet. I rushed over, but stopped when I saw the explosion of power that had knocked him over.

  Like what I had seen on the stairs, the bright spot that marred the Path was purple and blue wrapped with red. I expected to sense emotion from such directed energy.

  "What are you doing?" hissed Logan, who was listening intently and trying to find a target.

  Hand outstretched, I walked to the fragment of Path that had caused Logan to be thrown backward. It hovered in the middle of the room. The Path flowed around it, but hadn't yet started to sweep the remains away.

  "It's inert," I whispered. "I mean, I feel nothing from it. No anger, hate, malice, not even joy. Only energy."

  "I'm not sure what that means," Logan said.

  "Me neither." My hand hovered a breath away from the eruption. It may have been reckless, but I'm good at reckless. "I'm not sure what this will do, but here goes nothing." I stuck my hand in the Path.

  "Don't—"

  The moment my skin brushed the mark, the red wrapping to the color exploded outwards. The energy rushed over me. It threatened once again to knock me off my feet. However, as a Reader in the raging depths of the Path, I was able to bend the effects around my partner and me. Even with that, there was pressure.

  The crimson flared, expanded, and then winked out. The pressure around us released.

  Still, there was no emotion. Only passive power left dangling in the air.

  The blue and purples started to flow away in the Path. I grasped it before it was able to flee. A buzzing tingle ran up my arm and down my spine. With strength and control of the Path that I hadn't felt in what seemed like ages, I struggled to move into the Past.

  Unless the Path was willing, moving back against its flow, or rushing ahead, was a battle. The Path never seemed sentient enough to have a sense of purpose or plan. There were times however, that I was thrown back to watch past Paths emerge.

  This was not one of those times. Even with power, control, and the remnants of the event in hand, I couldn't shove my way back. That Path remained in the present.

  "I don't hear anyone," Logan said. If anything, this only appeared to make him warier.

  His voice snapped me back to the present, which was probably a good thing, as I was already starting to feel run down.

  "There may be nothing to hear," I said, watching the colors swirl together and disappear in a shimmering rush.

  "Whoa now, partner, I'm not sure I follow," Logan said. His cowboy slang and tone were back. A sure sign that his tension was draining away.

  "I don't understand it myself. With the power displayed there should be traces of the person that left it. I’d expect to see signs of it for days, or even weeks." I wandered out of the room, watching the flows. On the stairs, the marks remained.

  "You're saying there's no Path?"

  "There's a Path, but it's..." Slowly I started up the stairs. "It sits there, protected by something. As soon as that something is used up, everything flows away."

  "Be careful," Logan said, his gun still drawn, "we don't know what we're facing here."

  This time I studied the energy. "When I touched the thing in Gran's bedroom, it released its remaining power. When I made contact again, it used itself up and immediately started to wither away."

  "What is it and where's it gone to?" Logan asked.

  "I don't see anything that may have left it here. No one walked up here and dropped it off. It didn't arrive from anywhere that I can tell."

  "You're saying whatever this is, it appeared out of nowhere?"

  "It's starting to die away on its own now too," I said, ignoring the question. "Brace yourself." Before the red marks unraveled, I plunged my hand in. Redirecting the flow was easier this time. The same buzz ran through me. Almost like a small jolt of electricity.

  When it was gone, I started to sway. I'd burned through too much power too fast.

  "Time to come back," Logan said. There was a strain in his voice.

  Biting my lip, I took one last look around. "Wait! There's something else here." In the living room, the Path was weaving around a spot.

  "There's no waiting this morning," Logan said. "You're already spent."

  "Okay, but remember this spot," I said and wobbled down the stairs towards the bend in the Path.

  "Cassie, Rider's not around if you can't get yourself out of the Path." There was real worry in his voice.

  "Right here," I said, pointing at the bundle. "Don't touch it, and remember where it is."

  "Got it," Logan said.

  I took a few steps and gripped the side of the couch. Closing my eyes, I began to drive the Path away. Again, I had expected a struggle, like at the construction site. I won't say it was easy, but I was able to shove back the roaring flow.

  When I opened my eyes, I staggered. The world looked almost colorless. Even worse, I hurt like mad. The Path had kept the pain at bay, but it was now back with a vengeance.

  "You're sure there's nothing else in the house?" Logan asked.

  "There may be more of these," I said, motioning to empty air. "But I didn't see any traces of anything living moving around."

  "And you're sure you would have seen something?"

  "Even a bread knife that hasn't been used in years would leave a Path that would last a day or more. I don't see anything."

  Logan relaxed a bit more. "I'm going to call in Rider to see if he can find anything. It wouldn't be bad to have Vincent here as well. Things appearing out of nowhere seems like something a Walker may have experience with."

  "You think a Walker might be able to do something like this?" The thought was unsettling.

  "I'm not sure, but Vincent should know. He might even know if we’ve woken up the wrong passenger." Logan must have seen the confusion on my face. "We may have ticked off the Walkers. They might want retaliation for what we did this past spring."

  I cringed. A few months ago, we had trapped a Walker inside a stone statue, which w
as now hidden in my sock drawer. He was a terrible man, responsible for the deaths of many Lost and the shredded remains of their souls, which now resided in me.

  "Let's get some coffee in you and see if we can't perk you up." Logan started heading to the kitchen.

  "Wait! What if there are more of those things around?"

  Logan froze.

  "If this," I motioned to the air, "is one of those things, maybe I should check the Path for more."

  "After yesterday, we shouldn’t risk it. I didn't think we were going to get you back."

  It was a valid concern. Other Readers have followed the Path straight into death. They may not have even noticed it happening. "Do we have any other options?"

  Logan studied me. "You were laying on the ground when I came in. On the phone, it sounded like it threw you back like it did me in the other room."

  "Yeah, down the stairs," I said.

  "When you touched it again, it should have thrown us both back again, but didn't."

  "I bent the Path around us."

  Logan nodded. "We can try another way. Call the others in." He hesitated, then walked into the kitchen and picked up the closest chair. He waved the chair through the air as though it weighed nothing, and started moving around the room.

  Some of my anxiety faded as I watched the display. Logan swept his makeshift weapon under the table and triggered the remains of what had moved the chairs. It knocked his chair away, but he kept hold. Then he made his way over to the coffee maker and started it up. He was every bit a lion tamer without a lion.

  While watching Logan clear the rest of the kitchen, I called Rider.

  "Good morning," Rider said with far too much enthusiasm. Like Logan, he was a morning person.

  "Hey, are you all headed to work yet?" I thought I managed kept my voice even, but Rider must have sensed something.

  "What is wrong?" he asked.

  "I had a little trouble at the house this morning. I was hoping that you and Vincent would stop by."

  "We are already on the way. Vincent said we needed to be there."

  Of course he did. I wonder how much he still feels through the piece of my soul inside him.

  "Thank you," I said. "I'll see you all soon."

  What I needed was coffee and lots of it. Typically, I drank it with sugar, but to get back my strength quickly, I kept it black, not wanting to spend the time doctoring it up.

  Gran's cat came over and wrapped himself around my leg. Feeling shocked by the change in affections, I petted the cat carefully and made sure he had food and water.

  Logan stood at the wide opening between the kitchen and the living room. His ears were still stretched to their points.

  "Do you hear anything?" I asked.

  "Nothing," Logan said.

  Some of my tension had already died. I was fairly sure now that there was no one in the house.

  "It's a good thing Margaret wasn't here," Logan said.

  Picturing Gran flying through the air was awful. Fear and the remaining anxiety bled away leaving anger in its wake.

  "That could have killed her." Knowing he had taken a hit, I added, "Are you alright?"

  "Only a tumble. You?"

  I shrugged. "That could have really hurt Gran."

  Logan nodded. "I'm going to check the rest of the house."

  "Leave the spot in the living room alone."

  Chapter 8

  Logan audibly made his way through the house. Twice I heard a crash. Each time, I jumped up to bolt out of the room, but Logan would announce he was fine before I made it far.

  I worked steadily through several cups of coffee in my quest to feel human again. reading the Path when it was that energetic used way too much power.

  When the doorbell rang, Logan called that he'd get it. Soon after, Rider and Vincent made their way to the kitchen, followed closely by Logan.

  "I found two more. Left the one in the living room. They were all on the ground level, except the one on the stairs," Logan said.

  "What's going on?" Vincent asked.

  I shook my head. "First, I want to see if Rider can tell if someone was in the house."

  "Someone came in without permission?" Rider asked. He sounded confused and angry.

  I hesitated and looked at Logan. "Um, we're not exactly sure yet. There's a spot in the living room to avoid, but maybe you or Vincent might sense something."

  "Me?" Vincent asked. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "I'm not sure there is anything I would be able to sense."

  His confusion was evident. Logan and Rider had both mentioned Vincent's expressionless face in the past. For me, his face usually gave him away.

  "We have a few questions to that end," Logan said. "If a Walker went from the space between dimensions, could he, or she I guess, come out anywhere?"

  Vincent's expression grew dark. "You think a Walker was here?" Even without the Path open, I could feel his anger start to build.

  "Maybe not," I said quickly, "but, if they did, would you be able to sense it?"

  Vincent's eyes turned black. I had never seen them change color so fast. The emotion hit me, and I sucked in a deep breath, attempting to maintain control and trying not to be thrown into the Path.

  "Rider, we need to check the house now." Vincent stalked out of the room.

  "Wait a minute," I called.

  Rider paused, but Vincent continued.

  "Dammit," I muttered, jumping up and running to the living room.

  Vincent was half-way up the stairs.

  "Logan, do you remember where the spot was?" I asked.

  He showed me.

  "Rider, do you mind looking around? Avoid this spot and don't step near it." I stood next to the invisible bundle of energy, ensuring my friends didn't walk into it.

  He nodded and set to work, making his way around the first floor. When he started up the stairs, he stopped. From where he stood, I could tell it was about where I had run into whatever was on the stairs.

  "What is it, Rider?" I asked.

  "What is what?" he asked.

  "You stopped. I wanted to know what you found," I said.

  "Only an odd smell. It does not belong to anything and is very faint." Rider's nostrils flared. "Old...but also new." He shrugged his shoulders and continued upstairs.

  "Why don't you let me keep an eye on these two? Maybe get yourself another cup of coffee," Logan said.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say I didn't mind, but when I looked at him, I could tell he was worried. "Sure," I said. I took a last look up the stairs before retreating to the kitchen.

  After pouring myself the remaining liquid happiness, I started a new pot. Waiting patiently wasn't my strong suit.

  Rider didn't take too much longer to go through the house. When I heard him and Logan talking in the living room, I joined them.

  "Did you find anything?" I asked. I wasn't sure what I wanted to hear. Either way, it wouldn't be good news.

  "I found nothing I would not expect to find. The one odd smell was in a few different areas. This world can be full of strange smells," Rider said.

  Vincent joined us from Gran's bedroom. His eyes were no longer flat black, but he still radiated fury.

  "I didn't find any traces," Vincent said.

  That made me feel lighter. "That's a relief."

  He shook his head. "I would not necessarily find traces. It's a matter of skill with the Walker."

  The relief was short lived. If it was a Walker, it was a skilled one.

  "Could a Walker send something through to this dimension without crossing over?" Logan asked.

  Vincent appeared to think that over. "In theory, it should be possible, though I've never tried. Was something left behind?"

  Logan and I gave him a quick rundown of what had happened.

  "What made you call Logan in the first place?" Vincent asked.

  "The chairs in the kitchen had all been moved," I said.

  "The one here in the living room is still aro
und?" Vincent asked.

  "Let's find out," I said. Logan started to say something, but I cut him off. "I should only need to open a small part of the Path to see."

  Closing my eyes, I imagined a dam holding back the torrential Path. When I mentally stretched into the Path, the world shimmered once again, but the flowing overlay moved gently. The smoothness was similar to how the Path looked last year before my soul had been broken and my power went out of control.

  Rider shivered as the Path opened around him. Somehow as a werewolf, he could sense the Path when I opened myself to it.

  Logan's Path was hidden now, but Rider's was visible. My soul sometimes acted strangely when I looked at Vincent's present Path, so I avoided it. Instead, I focused on the burning form hanging in mid-air.

  "It's still here," I pointed, moving my finger as close to it as I could without touching it, "but it's starting to bulge."

  "What do you mean?" Logan asked.

  "It's like the red twined energy is holding the other back, but it's losing its grip."

  "Perhaps you should move away from it," Vincent said.

  "If you two don't sense anything, maybe we should set it off?" I suggested.

  "No," Vincent said.

  "Hold your horses," Logan said. "Cassie has a good point. Maybe you could find something if it’s in motion."

  Logan was generally our lead when we work together. Vincent and Rider must have come to some sort of silent agreement while I watched our target.

  "Do you think you can spread the effect like last time, Cassie?" Logan asked.

  "Sure, let me know when you all are ready," I said. There was really nothing they had to do, but I needed the few seconds to open the Path entirely.

  A gradual change would have been nice. Imagining the mental dam opening up and letting the Path through sounded great in theory. In practice, the moment I put a chink in that wall, it came crashing down. The torrent rolled over me.

  "Go for it when you're ready," Logan said.

  I sensed Logan and Rider tense. Vincent shifted closer. Focusing my strength as a Reader firmly on the present, I touched the red-striped energy.

 

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