A strangled shout from the living room had everyone turning in that direction.
"Peter," Karis said, crossing the floor, concern etched into her face, which seemed completely at odds with everything I'd discovered.
I followed closely on her heels and entered the living room in time to see the five-year-old on the floor, his body shuddering and flailing violently around. His eyes had rolled back into his head so only the whites were left visible and blood trickled from a cut down the side of his face.
"What's wrong with him?" she said, falling next to him as she attempted to scoop him up in her arms.
"He's fitting. We need to call an ambulance," I said. "Has he ever done this before?" I carefully stopped her from picking the boy up.
"I'm on it," Graham said. The tinny sound of an operator on his cell phone demanding to know his emergency reached my ears across the room.
"Never. Before any of this happened, he was perfectly happy and healthy," Karis said, fighting against me. "Let me hold my son!”
"You can't restrain him, Karis. Grab the pillow and slide it under his head so he doesn't hurt himself further," I said, loosening the neck of his jumper that had somehow gotten wrapped up around his chest.
"But he's my baby. I want him to know that I'm here. Peter, Mommy's here. Don't be afraid, sweetheart," she said, clutching his hand in hers.
The bluish tinge I'd noticed around his lips earlier had intensified. He gurgled and choked before finally growing still.
"Help me roll him onto his side. We'll put him in the recovery position. Graham, how long until the ambulance gets here?" I said, casting a concerned glance in his direction.
"A couple of minutes. Traffic is a nightmare," Graham said, his expression mirroring how I felt.
"Peter," Karis said. The half-strangled way she said his name drew my attention back to the small boy on the floor. He'd stopped fitting, his body now completely still—too still.
Bending over him, I tilted my head so I could listen a little better. Where there should have been breath sounds, there was silence, and my heart plummeted into my shoes.
"Get him on his back! Graham, I need you." I didn't need to say anything else; that was the beauty of working with Graham. He always knew what I needed without having to be told. He dropped onto the floor next to me, pulling Karis back out of the way as I laid Peter flat and started CPR.
The repetitive motion brought back memories of how I'd tried to resuscitate Graham when Zeck's creature had attacked him, had nearly killed him. Closing my eyes, I focused on counting, doing my best to ignore the feeling of Peter's body beneath my hands. Sweat gathered between my shoulder blades, trickling down my spine as I worked to keep the boy’s blood pumping through his body. Blocking out the sound of Karis's voice as she babbled incoherently, I focused only on Peter.
Sirens split the air but still I kept working, the ashen colour of his skin driving me on. It felt like an eternity; my arms felt like lead weights and the ache in my chest grew with each pump of my hands. Graham's arms wrapped around me and I jolted in his grip as he pulled me away.
"What are you doing?" My voice sounded unfamiliar even to my own ears.
"The paramedics are here, Morgan—you have to let them work," he said gently. Anger created tension in my shoulders. I wasn't some child to be coddled. I pulled away from him, crossing my arms across my chest as I moved toward the door, leaving Peter to the paramedics, who began working on him immediately.
I watched for a few minutes before turning away. This wasn't part of my job. I saw enough death, enough pain. Making my way out the door, I headed for the exit, the warm air washing over me as I stepped out into the afternoon sun.
It seemed so wrong. How could the sun carry on shining after everything that had gone on inside that house?
My feet carried me to the sidewalk and I picked up my pace without thinking about where I was going or what I would do. I'd come here with Graham but the thought of climbing back into his car left me cold. He'd brought me here, and there was a small part of me that held him responsible for the actions of Karis and her husband. Rationally, I knew it was wrong—none of this was Graham's fault—but I couldn't help how I felt, and as I heard him call after me, my body urged me into a run.
9
The buzzing of my cell phone slowed me down and I paused at the end of the street I'd dashed onto before fishing it out of my pocket. Staring down at the screen, I contemplated ignoring it, but Jason didn't like to be ignored, and there was a pretty good chance that he would just keep calling until I gave in anyway.
"What do you want?" I asked, answering the call with a swipe of my finger across the screen.
"Do you greet everyone the same?"
"So not in the mood for your games today, Jason. What do you want?"
He sighed and I could practically imagine him at the other end of the line. Talking to him brought back all of the painful emotions I'd been trying to bury over Nic. Although Nic liked to pretend that he was nothing like his brother, the two were far more alike than either would want to admit to.
I still hadn't allowed myself to believe that Nic was gone. The Nic I had fallen for, anyway. But I couldn't forget the look in his eyes when he'd pinned me to the bed, his intention to kill me only too apparent in his half-crazed gaze.
"You there?" Jason asked, pulling me from my own thoughts.
"Yeah, you were saying?"
"I might know something about your little ghost problem," he said, pricking my interest immediately.
"Something like what?" Marcel had been pretty clear about being too late to save Tess Greenville's soul, but if anyone could find a way, then it would be Jason. He was good at that sort of thing; traits like being relentless, ruthless, and uncompromising, which in someone else might have been a problem, were as asset in Jason and he used them to his full advantage.
"Look, some of it is Saga business so I can't share it all with you but—" He paused and I tapped my foot impatiently against the sidewalk. "You know, you're kind of cute when you're pissed," he said, his words catching me completely off guard.
"What?" I said, but before I could say another word, a large, black SUV rolled up next to me, the engine growling as it came to a stop in the middle of the street.
The passenger side window buzzed down and Jason inclined his head in my direction as he spoke into my ear. "You going to stay there all day staring or you going to hop in?"
Narrowing my eyes, I gave him my best dirty look before ending the call, stepping off the sidewalk, and opening the car door.
"How did you know I was out here?" I pulled my gaze away from his face as I settled into the seat and tugged on my seatbelt.
"I always know where you are," he said, and the words sent a shiver up my spine as I snapped my full attention back to him. There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he spoke; he was telling the truth, and I suddenly wasn't sure which was more frightening: the fact that he always somehow knew where I was, or the fact that he didn't think it was the least bit creepy.
"You realise that I could have you arrested for stalking, right?" I said, searching his face for any sign of remorse, but there was nothing. Being a member of the Saga had probably changed him in ways I couldn't even begin to imagine. But one thing I knew for certain was that becoming one of the Saga Venatione had taken something from him.
I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, just that it had left him lacking somehow. And if that was true of Jason, then it was definitely true of Nic. No matter how much I wished it wasn't true, I'd seen how it had changed him, the rage left in place of the man I'd come to know, the man I'd come to love....
Pushing the thoughts aside, I swallowed back the ball of tears that clogged up my throat and deliberately tore my gaze away from Jason. Crying wasn't going to bring Nic back to me—well, not my Nic, anyway.
"Right, if you are not going to tell me how you always know where I am, then you can at least tell me what you know about my little
ghost problem?" I said, resigning myself to the fact that Jason would never be forthcoming about anything, let alone his secrets.
"Giving up so easy? The way Nick spoke about you, I thought you were the type to never give up at all."
His words took me by surprise. We'd never spoken about Nick. Well, not since he'd gone missing, anyway. I had to stop thinking about him like that; he wasn't missing, he was simply gone. The Saga had hidden Jason from his family for years; he'd claimed that part of the time was spent learning to control his new abilities. Maybe it was true—hell if I knew. The only thing I was certain about was that the Saga would do the same for Nick, and if I ever saw him again, well, he wouldn't be my Nick any more.
"There was a lot Nick didn't know about me, and knowing when to quit on a lost cause is one of those things," I said, dropping my gaze to my lap.
"Sorry," Jason said, surprising me for the second time. "Where did you first see the ghost?" he asked suddenly, turning the wheel so the SUV was forced into the tightest U-turn I'd ever seen. I grabbed the door handle as the front bumper barely missed hitting a parked sedan. He grinned across at me, the car picking up speed as he took us back in the direction of King City.
"Can you please keep your eyes on the road?" I asked, relieved that my voice didn't betray my terror.
"Ooooh, didn't know you were such a nervous passenger," he said with a chuckle, but he slowly eased his foot off the accelerator.
"I saw her in the cemetery. You know, the one over on Green Street...."
It hit me then—how the hell did Jason know about my “little ghost problem”, as he'd called it? I'd certainly never told him; sharing something like that with someone like him was asking for trouble and he was already suspicious enough of me. The last thing I needed was for him to find out who I truly was, what I truly was. And I'd had enough narrow escapes from him in the past that I really didn't want a repeat performance.
"Jason, how do you know about the ghost?" I asked, studying his profile for any signs that he knew the truth about me.
"Nick," he said, quietly, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead.
"What did Nick tell you?" Nick wouldn't have spilled my secret, would he? The hunter I'd fallen in love with would never have betrayed me, but the witch hunter he'd become, well … he had tried to kill me, so I wasn't really in a position to judge just how much control his new abilities had on him.
"When you went missing, he was out of his mind. He'd have done anything to get you back, but I think you already know that."
Every word out of Jason's mouth was like salt in the wound. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands in an effort to control my emotions.
"So he came to me, told me how your demon mark made you a magnet for things like ghosts, and that one had attached itself to you. Said it had even tried to stop you from being taken."
"I'm not sure why you're telling me this," I said.
"Because I showed him how to contact your ghost, the one that is haunting you. She persuaded him, you know," Jason said.
Straining against the seatbelt I turned to face him. "Persuaded him to what?"
"To do whatever it took, to become one of the Saga Venatione."
I dropped back into the seat and stared out through the windscreen at the world as it passed by. Why would Tess's ghost tell him to do that? It just didn't make any sense. How would she even have known about it? Clearly, I was missing some part of the puzzle.
"I don't suppose you'd know why she told him to do that, would you?" Jason asked.
I shook my head, allowing my mind to run back over every interaction I'd had with Tess. Sure, it was all pretty weird, but why she had chosen me was still pretty much a mystery.
Jason sighed and turned the SUV off the freeway and onto the road leading into King City. "I didn't think you knew, but I had to be sure," he said. "Anyway, if we go back to the place where you first saw your ghost, then we can use the same ritual I gave Nic and summon the ghost there."
"One small problem," I said.
Jason cocked an eyebrow at me. "What's that?"
"We found her body this morning and an expert Graham has working the case said her spirit is well and truly gone. Without it, we can't summon her anywhere...."
Jason smiled grimly, an expression I never wanted to see aimed in my direction. "Graham's expert clearly isn't one of the Venatione and he obviously doesn't have the connections we do, or he'd know that's not entirely true.... What sort of an expert is he?" Jason asked, pretending nonchalance.
"It doesn't matter," I said. "If you have a way for us to contact, Tess then we're all set...."
"It'll require some bloodletting on my behalf," Jason said.
"When do rituals not require bloodletting?"
"Good, so you're not squeamish, then," Jason said with a wide grin as he turned off the road and pulled the car to a halt in the small parking lot next to the cemetery.
"You say that like I'm the first girl you've met who isn't," I said.
Jason shrugged and climbed out of the SUV, leaving me to form my own opinions on the matter.
He appeared around my side of the SUV, making me jump as I pushed open the passenger door. "Shit, what's with the hurry?" I asked, swallowing back the fear he'd momentarily brought to the surface of my emotions.
"Forgive me," he said.
"What?" I had only the briefest chance to question him before his hand whipped out lightning fast and he pressed something against my neck. There was a sharp sting and then I was falling, the ground rushing up to meet me. But before I collided with it, the world went black.
10
The black clouding my vision gave way to grey and my head throbbed with every movement of my body. I started to lift my arm but it wouldn't lift any further than the awkward angle it seemed to be pinned in behind my back. My heart came to a juddering halt as I struggled harder. Rope bit into my skin.
Opening my eyes, sunlight cut across my vision, momentarily blinding me. Sound came rushing back, making the headache worse, but I was acutely aware of the crunch of someone's boots across leaves and twigs. Glancing to the side, I could see trees and the edges of the headstones as we passed them. Looking down, I found myself staring down the back of whoever was making all the noise crunching.
Jason.
His name popped into my head and my memory flooded back. He was the one crunching across the grass loud enough to wake the dead if he wasn't careful. He'd drugged me. I hadn't seen whatever it had been in his hand, but my neck still stung with the residual burn of where he'd stuck me with it.
He knows. The voice in the back of my head piped up and I stilled my struggles. It was the only thing that made sense—why else would he be doing this? And if he knew, then that could mean only one thing....
"Jason," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the thrumming of my heart against my ribcage.
His shoulders stiffened but it didn't slow his progress through the cemetery. "You shouldn't be awake. The amulet should have kept you down for as long as you were wearing it," he said.
Amulet? I racked my brains, trying to remember what exactly he had touched to my skin, but everything was still too blurry and the more I tried to remember, the more my head throbbed.
Pulling back from the hazy fog that was my brain, I realised Jason was still talking, and I'd obviously missed a chunk of it.
"But I guess that demon mark of yours is running some sort of interference," he said, coming to a standstill in the centre of the cemetery. Without another word, he dragged me down from his shoulder and propped me awkwardly against a moss-covered stone cross.
The second my back touched the stone, something icy shuddered through me and I gasped, the sound escaping me before I could stop it. That was the problem with cemeteries—they were places of unspent energy. Not that those who lay beneath the ground played any real part in it. It was more that the living who visited gave birth to their grief, giving it form, and feeding it with every unspoken regret
and heartbroken lament. It had always been the case; loss and sorrow created some of the most potent of magics, or at least, that was what my mother had taught me.
Closing my eyes, I could see the entity that had slipped between my skin and bones, it's wordless agony causing my breath to come in misty puffs despite the heat of the day. Its light shifted and sparkled behind my eyelids, its heartbreaking beauty causing a tear to spill over my lashes and drip down my cheek.
"Is there something here?" Jason asked, the nearness of his voice making me jump. My eyes snapped wide open, coming to rest on his face. He'd crouched down next to me while my eyes had been shut; he was close enough that I could make out each individual hair that made up the dark stubble on his face and it instantly conjured an image of Nick in my mind. I hadn't fully appreciated just how alike they were but my proximity to Jason made my heart hurt for all that I had lost.
The entity that was turning my breath to icy mist stretched beneath my skin as though my own heartbreak brought it solace.
"Why are you doing this?"
A flicker of emotion passed through his eyes and the obviously crazy part of my brain thought it looked suspiciously like remorse. But that wasn't possible—anyone capable of pulling crazy shit like this didn't feel remorse. They didn't feel anything at all.
He didn't answer me, not that I was surprised there was nothing he could say. He reached behind his back and lifted his heavy black jacket. My ears picked up the sound of metal sliding against metal and I sucked a breath in between my teeth with a hiss as his hands reappeared with a wickedly curved blade, the gold hilt wrapped in a brown leather strapping that held the imprint of his hand. The blade itself was decorated with runes carved directly into the steel, and it glinted in the sunlight as Jason turned it over in his grip.
Clearly, it was an attempt to frighten me, and as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't stop my heart from speeding up.
Touch of Shadow (The Shadow Sorceress Book 5) Page 7