The Soulkeepers Series, Part Two (Books 4-6)

by Ching, G. P.

  With Soulkeeper speed, he dodged her attack, stabbing toward her abdomen. He missed.

  “The problem, Auriel,” he said, dodging her attack, “is you never really knew me at all.” He somersaulted backward. She drove him toward the wall of the city. “If you had, you would know not to underestimate me.”

  He opened himself up, and she stabbed toward his torso. But just as her fiery blade threatened to skewer his heart, he used Ghost’s power to break apart and form behind her. He stabbed the chunk of metal through the center of her spine and twisted. The junk wasn’t blessed. It wouldn’t kill her. But Dane was sure it hurt.

  Her scream ripped through the crowd.

  Boom! Dane crashed into the wall of Nod and crumpled to the dirt.

  Lucifer caught Auriel’s body in his arms, yanking the metal fragment from between her wings. His eyes drilled into Dane’s. “This isn’t over, Soulkeeper. Not by a long shot.” He snapped his fingers. Lucifer and Auriel disappeared, as did the Watchers circling above them and those running from Malini’s zombies.

  As soon as they were gone, the undead collapsed. The zombies fell apart, one by one. Bones and flesh were sucked back to their burial places.

  “Malini!” Dane yelled. He dragged his broken body from the street. The cage blazed higher. He reached for Jacob’s power, but there wasn’t a drop of water anywhere to put out the flames.

  I’m alive. Her voice was strained but sure.

  “Malini?”

  The fire lowered, and Dane glimpsed her small form curled on her side in the center of the cage. Badly burned, her entire body was blackened and blistered. She shouldn’t be alive. Dane remembered the ring of fire where Lucifer had imprisoned him in Hell. He’d tried to kill himself in it and couldn’t. The sorcery kept him alive no matter what. Maybe, the enchantment meant to contain her had protected her.

  He rushed forward and stomped out the remaining flames. The cage didn’t have a door, but he circled the bars and delivered a front kick to the flimsiest looking section. The assault of Lucifer’s own sorcery had weakened the cage. The section crumbled. He rushed to her side.

  Almost burnt beyond recognition, her amber eyes rolled back in her head. He unbuttoned and removed his plaid shirt. Carefully, he dressed her in it, then scooped her into his aching arms. Her head lolled against his chest. Dane swallowed, hard. Without the enchantment of the cage, would she die?

  “Malini? Malini? Stay with me.”

  “Where the hell are we?” Dane jerked at Cheveyo’s voice. The Hopi boy wobbled toward him in the abandoned street.

  “So now you decide to wake up!” Dane spat. “Thank you, mister ten-minutes-too-late.”

  “Uh, sorry, but not really sure how I could’ve helped anyway. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  “Perfect—” Dane was cut off by Malini’s rattling breath.

  “Get. Out. Of. Here.”

  “Gladly.” Dane repositioned her in his arms, causing her to grunt from the pain. “Sorry, Mal, there’s no other way.”

  The gate to Nod could only be unlocked by a Watcher, but as fate would have it, the heavy doors had been left open. Dane didn’t question why. He strode through to the thorn-lined path with Cheveyo hobbling behind him.

  * * * * *

  Alexandra watched the one called Dane leave Nod with the Healer in his arms. She was the reason the gate was open, having escaped from the walking dead minutes before. If she’d been loyal and brave, she might have destroyed the Soulkeepers right then. But Alexandra was not loyal or brave. She was a Watcher, and a crippled one at that.

  She flexed the wing Lucifer had torn off. The appendage was growing back slowly but still mostly illusion. Normally, healing would be quick and easy, but Lucifer’s touch had cursed the wound and left her with this. No, she wasn’t going to risk a single feather for anyone but herself.

  After the boy was well out of sight, she slipped back inside the gates of Nod, seeing the remnants of the Watchers killed in battle. The street was coated in black blood. Still, they couldn’t all be dead, although she couldn’t find a single one. The click-clack of her stiletto boots echoed on the street.

  Her fate was evident in every empty building she searched. Lucifer had taken the survivors but left her. His action was the ultimate slap in the face. As an angel who had followed him at the fall, Lucifer had an intimate knowledge of the stuff she was made of; all of the fallen were tied to him on a metaphysical level. She wasn’t merely forgotten. She was abandoned.

  Watchers didn’t cry. They couldn’t. The stuff they were made of wasn’t capable of the full spectrum of emotions, but rather hovered in the vicinity of the seven deadly sins. In this case, Alexandra’s pride and sense of self-preservation fueled the anger that drove her from Nod, and raw jealousy of Auriel’s position hastened her pursuit. She’d kill the Soulkeeper, recapture the Healer, and, with any luck, she’d be sitting in the throne room tomorrow. Maybe, if she did well, the evil one would even fix her wing.

  Chapter 31

  Fourth World

  By the time they reached the underground garden, Dane was falling apart. His nose was bleeding furiously, and his brain throbbed like it’d been bludgeoned inside his skull. By the rattle in Malini’s breath, he was pretty sure she was dying.

  “This is the tree,” he said to Cheveyo. “We touch it, and it will take us home.”

  He leaned his shoulder onto the bark, and then repositioned Malini to place his palm flat against the trunk for good measure. Nothing happened.

  “Malini, it’s not working.”

  “Too late. Need sorcery,” she rasped.

  “I’m fresh out of sorcery. How the hell do we get out of here?”

  Malini didn’t answer. She went limp in his arms, her breath shallow.

  Cheveyo stared at him blankly.

  Dane closed his eyes in frustration. He had to think of something, but who could think with this pounding? Strange, it almost seemed like…

  “Do you hear that?” he asked Cheveyo.

  “What?”

  “It’s like …drumbeats.”

  “No. I don’t hear anything.”

  “Do you think it’s the Watchers?”

  Cheveyo shook his head. “Judging by the looks of that place I wouldn’t say they were into music or the arts. Where I come from, drums are sacred.”

  “Follow,” Malini rasped.

  Dane widened his eyes. “It’s as good a hope as any. Let’s go.” Wiping the blood from his face with the back of his sleeve, he led the way toward the rhythm of the drums. He had to go slowly because Cheveyo couldn’t see in the dark and the path he took snaked through the thorny landscape. Between the blood loss and Malini’s weight, he was incapable of speed anyway.

  “I hear them,” Cheveyo said, squeezing his shoulder. “Those are Hopi drums, Dane. This is the way out!”

  Dane tried to walk faster, but every step brought pain. The path widened and the thorn bushes became sparse, replaced by juniper trees, cactus, and deep green shrubs. Soon, the landscape was bathed in a bright, warm glow from ahead.

  Cheveyo released his shoulder. “Come on.” He jogged toward the light.

  Step by labored step, Dane caught up, the drums growing louder and louder as he approached. When he reached the source, his jaw dropped. He’d entered a summer land of sun and sand, in a circle of pueblos and smiling Native American faces. Cheveyo stood at the center of the community, arms open.

  A man with a heavily lined face and a small animal skin kilt approached Cheveyo and spoke to him in a language Dane didn’t understand. He didn’t have the strength to call up Jacob’s gift to translate, and he didn’t have to. Cheveyo understood what he was saying. The exchange was warm and ended in a familial embrace.

  When it was over, Cheveyo rushed to Dane. “We have to hurry. The way is only open during the ceremony, while the drums are still beating.”

  Dane followed Cheveyo’s lead to a tall and worrisome wooden ladder. Would the ancient wood hold
? Could he carry Malini and climb to the top? And for that matter, where was the top?

  “Give her to me. I feel strong.” Cheveyo pulled Malini from Dane’s arms and rolled her over his shoulder, holding her legs against his chest with one arm, he began to climb with the other.

  Dane didn’t argue with the plan. He had enough trouble pulling himself up the rungs.

  “Where does this lead, Cheveyo? Are you sure the man can be trusted?

  Cheveyo didn’t pause his slow and steady ascent. “That man is my great-great-great-great-grandfather and long ago chief of the Hopi tribe. This is our underworld, the land of our dead.”

  “What? Here?”

  “Don’t judge what you don’t understand.”

  “Who’s judging?”

  Fog rolled in, blocking out the light until even Dane couldn’t see a thing but the rung ahead of him. Over the sound of the drumbeats, another more soothing rhythm met his ears.

  “I hear rain!” he said.

  “Yes. We’re close,” Cheveyo said excitedly. His feet disappeared into the fog.

  A wet clump of red hit Dane in the face. With one hand, he wiped it from his forehead. Mud. He climbed faster, into the muck, holding his breath as he plowed through a particularly thick stretch of wet dirt. When his head broke the surface, he gasped for breath, rain washing the remnants of earth and blood from his face. He thrust his hand up and, mercifully, Cheveyo clasped it between his own and hauled him up.

  They were in another, more modern Hopi village, at the center of some type of ceremony with dancing and drums. Dane didn’t pause to appreciate the staring faces. He rushed to Malini’s side. The rain was helping wash the burn from her body, one drop at a time, but he knew he could help things considerably. Lifting her head, he called Jacob’s energy and directed the rain to wash over her more thoroughly. A flinch. A sputter. Finally, she opened her eyes.

  He lowered her head.

  “Dane!” Malini yelled. But there was nothing she could do. He’d used up everything he had. Exhausted, he toppled toward the mud but wasn’t conscious long enough to feel the fall.

  * * * * *

  At the center of the Hopi ceremony, Cheveyo found it ironic that he’d ended up exactly where he’d begun. While Dane helped Malini, long fingers reached for him from the red mud. Bewildered, he grasped the hand and pulled.

  “Stop! Cheveyo, don’t help her!” Malini screamed.

  He yanked his hand away, but it was too late, the red-haired Watcher, Alexandra, clawed her way up from the hole. Her illusion melted with the rain, or maybe the power of the sacred space, and she stretched her hideous leathery wings.

  “You’re mine, Healer,” she hissed through elongated fangs. Completely focused on Malini, the demon didn’t give Cheveyo a second glance. Her black scales twitched with rage.

  Dane couldn’t help. He lay in a heap at Malini’s side. Cheveyo wasn’t sure what he could do to stop the Watcher from hurting his new friends or his old ones. But he had to do something.

  Alexandra lowered her head and charged for Malini, talons flashing as lightning and thunder rocked the mesa.

  “No!” Cheveyo yelled and thrust both hands into the Watcher’s scaly torso. He meant only to push the demon, to give everyone enough time to run, but from the very beginning, nothing had happened as Cheveyo expected. His soul transferred into the Watcher, his body dropping to the mud. From inside, Cheveyo felt the demon clutch its throat, then shake its head frantically. Alexandra clawed at her face until the black skin was sliced to ribbons. Through bulging eyes, Cheveyo watched a scaly hand swell bigger and bigger. Unable to contain him, the Watcher’s body finally popped. Black blood and chunks of scaly flesh showered the plaza, staining the walls of the surrounding pueblos and everyone in between. And Cheveyo, freed from his enemy, slipped back into his body.

  The drums stopped. The rain stopped. The clouds moved aside to reveal a bright sun that contrasted sharply with the horrified faces covered in black oily splotches all around him. A large snake slithered across his toes.

  Cheveyo took a deep breath and rolled up to a sitting position, wiping black gunk from his cheek. He turned toward Malini.

  “Well, that was a hell of a thing,” he said flatly. “You know, I don’t think I’m supposed to possess humans at all.”

  Malini nodded, then began to giggle. She turned her face to the sun and raised her arms to the sky in a gesture of intense gratitude. Cheveyo couldn’t help it. He began to laugh too. They laughed until they could hardly breathe and the stares of the people around them became too intense.

  At her side, Dane groaned, and Malini turned her attention to him.

  Cheveyo glanced around the Hopi tribe, meeting the eyes of Willow, Raine, and his father. Would they be angry that he’d brought this evil upon them? Now, more connected to his roots than ever, he desperately wanted their acceptance. How could he help them understand?

  What happened next made his heart swell. As a tribe, the Hopi people bowed. Even his dad. The look on his father’s face was not horror; it was pride.

  Chapter 32

  Coming Out

  Exhausted, Malini borrowed a phone to call Jacob to come and get them. When Lucifer took her clothes, he also took Warwick’s sapphire, her only means of communication with Eden. The Hopi were unbelievably accommodating, especially the medicine woman. Willow explained that Spider Woman came to her in a dream and commanded the Hopi to perform the Snake Dance at the highly unusual time of year.

  She’d have to thank Fate later for saving her life. Of course, Fatima would deny everything. Technically, the immortals weren’t allowed to interfere.

  Cheveyo borrowed his father’s Jeep and helped carry Dane down the mesa. Working together, they transported him back to the Desert Days Motel, where they procured a room and propped Dane’s limp body on the bed. His nose was still bleeding, and his skin was doing a good job of matching the sheets.

  Malini tried to heal him but healing wasn’t the problem. He needed to unload the gifts he’d been carrying before they ate him alive from the inside out. It was like any of their powers. If Malini healed for too long, she burned. If Ghost dispersed for too long, he ached all over like he had the flu. For Dane, if he held onto a gift for too long, it ate him alive.

  With a crack, Samantha arrived in the room, staff in one hand and geode in the other. She gasped when she saw Malini and then Dane, a storm of emotions: horror, anger, and pity flitting across her face. She didn’t say a word, just walked to the closet and set up the portal. A few minutes later, Jacob emerged from a tunnel of purple light, T-shirt and shorts dappled with wet spots.

  “Surfing,” he said to Samantha. “It might take the others a few more minutes.”

  She nodded.

  The second Jacob saw Malini, a growl breached his throat from deep within. “What happened?” His eyes wandered over her chopped hair, her borrowed T-shirt and shorts.

  “Believe me, Lucifer got the worst of it.” She reached for his hand.

  He pulled her into his embrace, running his hands through her hair and whispering sweetly in her ear.

  “Um, I’m Cheveyo, but people call me Chevy.” Cheveyo’s mahogany hand extended toward Jacob awkwardly.

  Jacob stepped back from Malini and shook the boy’s hand. “Nice to meet you in the flesh.”

  Any further greeting was cut off by the sound of the ocean and a spray of seawater. Bonnie and Ethan stepped from the closet.

  Ethan didn’t even look toward the small group of Soulkeepers near the window. He rushed to Dane’s side, lowering himself to the edge of the bed and leaning over his body. Carefully, he placed a hand on his cheek. “What’s wrong with him? He’s burning up.”

  “He needs to give you all your gifts back. They’re killing him,” Malini said.

  Ethan tapped Dane’s cheek and shook his shoulder gently. “Dane. Dane. Wake up, buddy.”

  Dane’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Good morning, Hero. You need to give me my
power back, now.”

  A pinched smile spread across Dane’s face. “So, take it,” he drawled.

  Ethan lowered his mouth to Dane’s.

  “Whoa.” Malini forcibly turned Jacob and Cheveyo toward the window. Bonnie turned too, raising an eyebrow.

  “So, ah, you were right about that one thing we talked about before,” Malini said to Jacob.

  “And don’t you forget it. You know, just because you’re the Healer doesn’t mean you know everything.”

  Samantha cleared her throat from her place in front of the closet. “Yeah, it kinda does, Jacob.”

  “Definitely,” Bonnie agreed. She pressed her eyes closed and smacked her forehead with her palm. No one needed to ask why.

  “Huh. Well, I’ll always have this.” Jacob pulled Malini into his side.

  A loud pop behind them welcomed Grace and Master Lee to the room, each arriving by means of their own staff.

  “Oh!” Grace said when she saw the kiss. She joined the others at the window while Lee made himself busy helping Samantha. “So … that’s happening.”

  “And it’s about time,” Malini added.

  Grace smiled warmly in response. “Maybe we should leave them alone?” she offered.

  “Not until you get your damn powers out of my boyfriend,” Ethan said. “He’s not doing so good over here.”

  “Happily.” Jacob turned from the window and reached across the bed for Dane’s hand. With a jolt, his eyes took on the sparkle of a Soulkeeper.

  Lillian arrived next through the closet, followed by Ghost, who seemed like he’d enjoyed the journey all too well. He whooped and gave Samantha a peck on her cheek.

  “We just got the message from Dr. Silva— shit, Dane, you look like Hell.”

  Concerned, he walked over to the bed, slugging Ethan in the shoulder in lieu of a hello.

  “He needs to dump your power,” Jacob said. “It’s giving him a headache.”

  “It’s probably the smell,” Ethan added, rubbing his arm where Ghost had punched him.

  “Ha, ha. More like he can’t handle the magnanimous power that is me.” Ghost clasped Dane’s arm at the elbow.