Soul Scent: A Zackie Story (The Zackie Stories Book 2)

by Reyna Favis

  When he drew back, his eyes were dark and his hands stayed on me, keeping me close. My lips were parted, but I had no words. I was an artist’s canvas that had never known color before this moment. A new world, iridescent with the vivid hues of autumn, welcomed me home and I inhaled the teasing, green tang of the fertile earth, feeling the lush susurrations of dancing leaves tingle on my skin.

  My senses were overwhelmed by Lucas and when a powerful smell of ammonia wafted into my consciousness, I had no idea when the scent had started to build. The wind gusted and a tree groaned as branches rubbed, but I realized Hannah could do nothing while I stood so close to Lucas. Any harm intended for me would also reach him. I stood my ground, resting my head on his chest until the wind calmed. A wrenching sob echoed in my ears and I sensed the black hole of her despair as she departed.

  Lucas took my good hand and led me to a picnic table. Sitting by his side, holding his hand in the warmth of the setting sun, I should have felt like this was nirvana. I had wanted this for so long. Instead of feeling content and joyful at this new beginning with Lucas, I hung my head, feeling like a rat bastard for stealing Hannah’s husband.

  With a crooked finger, Lucas lifted my chin and gazed into my eyes. “Have I done something wrong?”

  “You did everything right. You’re perfect.” I said this with all the conviction I felt and a smile played on his lips.

  “What’s wrong then?”

  I swallowed and screwed up my courage to tell him the truth. “Hannah…” My voice trailed off because I had no idea how to let him know that she haunted him. I didn’t want to ruin our moment by getting into a discussion about the afterlife, his alternate explanations and different interpretations and the conflicts with my life’s hardcore experiences.

  “Hannah’s at peace.” Lucas’s voice was strained and his body tense, as he willed this to be true. The grief was ever present just below the surface and it occurred to me that maybe her constant presence fed his grief, despite his lack of conscious awareness. After a moment, he appeared to relax and sighed sadly, a shadow passing over his eyes. “I think about her too.” He looked away and took another breath. “I know you two were friends and this might feel like a betrayal.” He shook his head, but the troubled expression stayed with him. “I also wondered if this might be too soon, but…” Lucas sat back and gazed into the distance.

  “But what?” I stared at his profile and squeezed his hand.

  “Ron’s a really good guy and I like him. He’d be great for you, but…”

  “But you thought you’d be better for me?”

  Lucas smiled sheepishly, glancing back at me with sad eyes. “I wanted a shot, so sue me. I figured if I hung back and did nothing because I wasn’t sure I was ready, you’d go with him. I had to let you know how I felt and then let you decide.”

  What I decided was that I really was a rat bastard. I never had these kinds of feelings for Ron, but I was okay if Lucas thought this was true and it encouraged him to want to be with me. And despite what Lucas believed, Hannah and I were never really friends. At best, we were frenemies, with Lucas always between us. Under other circumstances, I think we might have been friends, but as things stood, it was not a possibility.

  Hannah was dead, but she was still here. Did staying earthbound give her the right to keep her marriage intact? Did I have the right to destroy that bond, simply because I had the advantage of drawing breath? If I were in her shoes, as much as I abhorred the idea of clinging to a half life on earth, I’d stay too, just to be with Lucas. I really couldn’t blame her. Chewing on my lip, I wished my life was simpler.

  When I didn’t speak immediately, a crease formed on his brow and he turned his body towards me. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I took the coward’s way out, sidestepping a serious discussion and deciding to fight the guilt. “I’m thinking you have an odd sense of timing. I thought this was the way a date’s supposed to end.” I grinned at him and poked him in the ribs with my elbow.

  Lucas’s expression relaxed. Consenting to this distraction, he settled his back against the table’s edge. Bringing my hand to his lips, he brushed my knuckles with a kiss. “Let me put it this way – I hadn’t planned on it. But once the idea crossed my mind, it seemed like the only thing to do.”

  “It does simplify things. I don’t think I would have been relaxed enough to eat and make awkward conversation at the same time.”

  “Not eat? You?” He rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “Hmmm… Maybe you really do like me.”

  “You’re making a pretty bold assumption there. What makes you so certain that we’d be talking?” I let go of his hand and slid my arms around him, pressing tightly against his body. “But I like you. A lot.”

  We sat quietly, holding each other until my stomach made loud, embarrassing growls to protest the newfound dominance of my heart in the body politic. Lucas sat forward, releasing me. “I should feed you. What would you like?”

  I was happy to eat whatever he wanted. If we both ate onions, so be it, because I was pretty sure I wasn’t done kissing him yet. The crowd for dinner had increased and it would take a little time to get through the line. While Lucas was occupied with getting our order, I called Hannah to me. It was the last thing I wanted to do on my first real date with Lucas, but Cam was right. Maybe if Hannah and I talked, really talked, we could work this out.

  Hannah appeared from behind a tree. A black cloud of misery surrounded her and despite making the air around her crackle with the power of her growing rage against me, I felt calm and in control.

  “So, you’ve won him to you. Did you call me to gloat about it?” She spit the words out and I understood in my marrow her feelings of betrayal and the injustice of dying so young.

  I shook my head slowly. “Hannah, I am truly sorry. But this is why you have to move on. Lucas is still alive, with a lot of years ahead of him. He has no choice but to move on and whether it’s to me or someone else, the result would be the same for you.” I tried to read her reaction and stared with all my will into her eyes. “Staying here means nothing but pain for you. We can ask Zackie to help. She’ll make it easy.” No response from her, only her seething rage. I tried again to set her mind at ease. “You know how I feel about Lucas. I’ll take care of him.”

  This was exactly the wrong thing to say. The dam broke and wind tore at the tree branches. The atmosphere took on a purple tinge and I tasted fire in my mouth as the smell of ammonia ripped my sinuses. A family crossing the parking lot cried out at the sudden storm and ran together to find shelter in the building. I hastily built my shark cage for protection from her, but I refused to run and I denied her a fight.

  “Take care of him?” She shrieked the words, throwing her dark energy against the bars of the cage again and again, making my teeth rattle with each blow. Spinning like a whirlwind and battering the cage with the force of her emotion, she nearly broke through my defense before doubling over, her energy spent. She gasped out her final words before disappearing. “You are dangerous to him. You bring deadly things like me near him. I am his only protection.”

  I could no longer focus my will and the cage dissipated into nothing. Near to collapse, I put my head between my knees, concentrating on just breathing. Hannah was more powerful than I had anticipated and this all happened too soon after dealing with the Lenape family and letting the dead hand enjoy a moment in the light. I was drained empty and extremely ill.

  “What happened? Are you all right?” Lucas set the tray of food on the table and helped me to sit up. A trickle of blood seeped from my left eye and I reached blindly for a napkin.

  “Coconut water… in my trunk…” I forced the words out and pulled my keys from my pocket, dangling them in front of me for him to take. Seeing only hazy images, I was not sure where he stood, but I felt him grab the keys and take off at a run. I was shutting down just as he forced an open bottle into my hand. I drank most of the contents in one long pull and sat back gasping be
fore forcing another bolus down my throat. More stable now, I finished the bottle and opened a second. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  Lucas sat next to me, his arm around my shoulders. “Better now?”

  I nodded miserably, wiping the seeping blood from my eye. At least I wasn’t throwing up on his shoes, but I hated to think what I might look like to him. I sipped from the second bottle as Lucas pulled out his phone and speed dialed a call.

  “Cam? Something’s happened to Fia.” His voice was tense, but controlled. Lucas paused, listening to whatever Cam advised. “Yes, she’s drinking coconut water, but her eye is bleeding.” More tinny words came from the phone. “Right. Okay… okay, I’ll do that now. Bye.” A French fry nudged at my lips. “Here, eat this.” This was followed by more fries as he encouraged me to keep drinking. When the coconut water was finished, Lucas handed me a coke to drink and then a hot dog. I ate mindlessly without tasting and with a grim determination as he continued to hand me food. In a short while, the tray was empty and Lucas was wiping something from my face with a napkin.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas. I think I ate your dinner.” I felt better, but my brain wasn’t working right and my words slurred.

  “That’s all right.” He disappeared for a moment with the empty tray and remains of the meal. When he returned, he slipped his arm around me and lifted. “I need to get you up now.”

  “Okay.” I slumped against him and forced my lips and tongue to form words. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to Cam’s.”

  Lucas helped me to stagger to his car and loaded me into the passenger seat. Reaching across, he secured the seatbelt and then shut the door. The engine started and I felt the car pull out, just as I lost my fight to stay conscious.

  # # #

  “What were you thinking?” Cam paced the length of the room, throwing black looks my way as he vented. When I had first woken, Zackie shared my pillow, her wet nose breathing in my face. I had asked Cam if I were dying and he told me I would soon wish I were.

  “I did what you suggested. I tried to talk to Hannah.” After two days, my brain was back to working about as well as it ever did and Cam wasn’t impressed. He stared at me like I had lost my mind. I pulled the blanket up against a chill and used my other hand to sip some coconut water.

  Cam rubbed a hand over his face and then attempted a patient look. “Had we or had we not just decided to put off meeting with He-Who-Counseled-the-Chief?”

  “We had, but –”

  “Did I not say that you needed more time to recover?”

  “You did, but –”

  “Then why would you decide this would be a good time to take on a really powerful spirit, directly after kissing her husband?” Cam’s face was growing red and I felt a monster of a blush flare on my own cheeks.

  “Oh, you spoke to Lucas, then…” I looked away and pretended to adjust the covers.

  “Yes, he told me everything. Congratulations, by the way.” Cam took another breath and was about to launch into the second half of his tirade, likely to detail all my faulty thinking and my inability to show good judgment, when Lucas poked his head through the door.

  “I thought I heard my name.” Squeezing past Cam, Lucas came to the side of the futon and knelt to get on eye level with me. “How are you feeling?” He had dark smudges under his eyes and I realized he probably hadn’t slept in the two days I was out of it. I touched his cheek in apology. He had done enough of this when Hannah was dying and I regretted putting him through it again.

  “I’m completely better. Thank you for taking care of me.” For Lucas’s sake, I needed to haul my sorry ass out of this bed and be healthy for him. “If you two would excuse me, I’d like to get up and put some clothes on.”

  Cam was about to say something to keep me in bed, but I gave him a pleading look and flicked my eyes towards Lucas. Cam pursed his lips, but understood why I had to get up. At last he nodded and said, “About time then. Come away, Lucas.”

  When the door shut, I sat up and was slammed by a wave of dizziness. I rubbed my face and grimaced as my mouth flooded with a bitter, coppery taste. Taking a deep breath, I gingerly put my feet on the floor and stood on shaky legs. Zackie came to my side and I kept my balance by leaning on her shoulders. A pile of my clothing sat near the wall in one of Ron and Lenora’s open blue luggage bags. I took my time to get to the pile, leaning on Zackie the whole way, and found my keys sitting on top of the folded clothing. My hands fumbled as I pulled out what I needed, including, to my surprise, the neoprene glove and the mortician’s makeup kit. Limping and leaning heavily on the psychopomp, I made my way to the bathroom on cramping legs to get showered and dressed. I felt better after the shower, but the cramping remained a problem. Before heading to the kitchen, I checked the dead hand. The fresh application of mortuary makeup looked okay and I figured I wouldn’t make anyone throw up, so I was good to go.

  Hobbling down the hall with Zackie at my side steadying me, I heard noise from the dining room and changed course. Everyone was seated at the table, eating lunch. The dizziness had returned as I tried to take my seat and the effort of pulling the chair back proved too much. Lucas was seated across from me and stood to help, but Ron, seated next to me, reached over and drew the chair back without getting up.

  As Lucas returned to his seat, Ron gave him a look of challenge. “You need to take better care of your woman.”

  Meeting Ron’s eyes squarely, Lucas replied with sincerity. “I intend to.” They held this eye contact for a breath and then Ron grunted approval before helping himself to a plate of fried bread. If Ron wanted to play big brother, he could be my guest. I didn’t have the energy to even roll my eyes.

  Lenora plunked down a bowl of thick lentil soup in front of me, put a spoon in my hand and then poked Ron as she moved back to the kitchen. “You give her some bread.”

  Ron did as he was told and Zackie shot up from under the table, grabbing the first piece that was offered. After accepting the second piece of bread, I tucked into my food without being prompted, quickly finishing everything in front of me. When Lenora returned with more fried bread, hot and straight from the pot, Lucas motioned to Ron to put more on my plate. I greedily ate the fresh bread and then put away two servings of chocolate ice cream for dessert.

  “How come you don’t eat like that?” Lenora prodded Cam as he cleared dishes from the table.

  “I do eat like that, and more, but you expect that from a man of my size. No one ever bats an eye.” Bringing back a carafe of coffee, napkins and some mugs from the kitchen, Cam continued. “But I’m neater about it, so there’s less evidence.” He tossed some napkins my way and I put them to use.

  Ron also felt the need to comment on my eating habits in front of Lucas. “She eats like her life depends on it.”

  “People, I’m sitting right here.” I tried to get them to stop before they made Lucas calculate what his new food budget might be. Zackie made a chuffing noise and nudged me under the table, amused by my embarrassment.

  Cam shrugged, ignoring me. “Her life probably does depend on it. Our metabolism is different from most people. I like to think it’s the extra needs of our brains for additional calories.”

  Wonderful. They were dissecting the minute details of my freakishness. Right in front of Lucas. I wanted to bury my head in my arms and hide. Instead, cheeks burning, I changed the subject to distract them. “Speaking of brains, do you think the fact that a bullet destroyed Maggie’s brain affects her ability to think and process now? That’s maybe why everything’s so garbled and mixed up with her?”

  “I think it’s more a function of being newly dead,” Cam said. “Spirits who do not cross over immediately tend to require some time to adjust to their new situation and there is initially a profound sense of disorientation. In my experience, the manner of death does not ultimately affect their abilities, provided the spirits are willing to accept the fact that they no longer live and need to accommodate a mortal wou
nd.”

  Ron shrugged as he toyed with a teaspoon. “I guess that makes sense. Look at He-Who-Counseled-the-Chief. His head was crushed by a bear, but everything you’ve told us about what he says seems reasonable and makes sense for the most part. His brain seems fine.”

  I frowned and shook my head, still confused. “So, why doesn’t he show up with a crushed head? Why does he look undamaged to me when so many other spirits are really physically messed up from whatever killed them, even some of the old ones?”

  Cam sighed and his eyes looked distant and sad, like he was remembering all the souls that crossed his path. “I think for the most part, spirits display their death wounds as a way of telling us that they suffered, that they are suffering. He-Who-Counseled-the-Chief is not suffering because of his manner of death. Something else is causing his pain and preventing him from moving on.” Cam’s words made me think of Hannah and how she manifested with chemo tracts on her arms, her body emaciated and weak.

  Lucas sat with his arms crossed, maybe not one hundred percent buying everything we said, but listening and processing the conversation. “You’ve built an entire mythology around this phenomenon. I have to give you kudos for creating internal consistency in your arguments.”

  “You call it mythology, I call it observation.” Cam shrugged, unwilling to be drawn into a debate.

  “Tomatoes, to-mah-toes…” Lucas flipped his hand back and forth, smiling tiredly and letting it go. He was also lacking energy and appeared to be in no mood for a rigorous discussion of our differences in opinion. I must have swayed in my seat from my own fatigue, because his eyes suddenly darted to me and he stood. “I think Fia needs to get some more rest.”