Eli admits that he enjoys doing those races that involve going through obstacle courses and how competitive he gets while doing them. He also promises that he doesn’t cheat and use his gift. If he did, they wouldn’t be much of a challenge, and he would be disqualified right away since gifts are banned in any competition. It evens the playing field between the gifted and nongifted.
Time flies with them, and I almost forget that I’m on the run. Almost.
Today, we’re all in the living room, munching on popcorn, each person with their own bowl, while watching a horror movie. I’m stretched out on the couch with my head in DJ’s lap and my feet on Jackson’s thighs.
I have to admit, I’m dozing a little as DJ runs his hand through my hair and plays with the strands. Throughout the movie, I would feel his eyes on me, and when I glance at him, he has a warm smile. Then he’d motion for me to keep watching the movie.
When he does this for the fifth time, I narrow my eyes.
His smile widens.
“Watch the movie,” he says.
“Shouldn’t you be watching too?” I ask
“I am.”
I snort. “No you’re not. You’re distracted.”
“Oh, and what’s wrong with that? You’re a beautiful distraction. Better than any movie.”
Unable to hold back, the laughter bubbles out of me. DJ is an expert tease. Action breaks out on the movie and grabs my attention. As I’m watching things blowing up, I throw more food in my mouth.
“I can’t believe you eat your popcorn with crumbled Oreos,” Eli says as I chomp down on it.
Holding the bowl up, I ask, “Sure you don’t want to try.”
He shakes his head, eyeing my creation warily.
“Your loss.” I make a point of grabbing another popcorn-Oreo combo and chomp on it, loving the extra crunch from the crushed cookies.
“Let me try.” DJ reaches in and grabs a handful and then stuffs it all into his mouth until he looks like a chipmunk. I giggle as he starts chewing and I can hear the crunch of each bite. After a few moments, he’s finally able to swallow.
“That’s delicious,” he says, looking at the bowl like he might devour it.
“Of course it is.” I move it away from him. “And it’s all mine. Get your own bowl.”
“Can we finish watching the movie?” Jackson asks. “I like this part.”
“Of course you do. Shit gets blown up,” DJ says.
“Oh, I like this part too.” I hit DJ’s chest. “I agree. Shush.”
“What?” He looks down at me with big eyes. “What’s so great about this scene?”
I moan as the main character walks away from the chaos. Behind him, the fire is blazing and explosions continue to occur. It’s all so dramatic. I sigh. “That. That is what is so amazing. The way he moves, the sway in his hips, those muscles. Damn.” I lick my lips.
“I can do that!” DJ claims.
“Really?” I ask and look him over slowly. “I don’t think so. You don’t have his body. Jackson can get away with doing a scene like this. He screams masculinity. You don’t.”
“I think I feel offended,” he mumbles, and everyone chuckles. We settle back down to finish the movie.
Eli’s phone goes off right at the end. He’s stretched out in a chair and has to shift so he can lift his butt off the cushion and pull it out. After staring at the screen for a few seconds, his expression goes cold. After our eyes meet briefly, he stands up, keeping his face blank to hide his thoughts as he walks out of the room.
All the guys freeze at that and Colton pauses the movie as he stares at the door with a frown. He turns his head slightly, and I realize he’s listening. The rest of us focus on him, trying to gauge what’s going on, but Colton is better at hiding his thoughts than everyone else in this room.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when Colton doesn’t say anything, and I grow impatient.
Jackson squeezes my legs in comfort since they’re still in his lap.
A moment later, Eli comes back in with a pale face, and it worsens when he looks at me. My heart pounds hard in my chest as I know it’s over. This happiness has come to an end.
“Someone posted a message on the dark net. It’s for you.”
“Me?”
He nods and comes over with his phone. He hands it over to me, and I grab it with shaking fingers. On the screen is a video already paused. I look up at the Eli and then the other men. Colton nods to me, and I look back down at the screen, licking my lip.
My finger is shaking so much it takes me a moment to hit play. DJ turns the screen so that it’s horizontal and the screen gets bigger.
An older man is on the screen, his blue eyes pale and empty looking. A bruise is blossoming over the corner of his left lip. Words in a foreign language come out of the speaker as he chants the same thing over and over again.
Finally, after about thirty seconds of the chant causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end, the camera zooms out to show a dark space with scattered torches and candles. It pans to the area in front of the man to show the white markings on the floor. In the middle of the floor is a man, covered in old clothes.
My heart goes into my throat as I take in the familiar mop of dark brown hair and the size of the body. It raises slowly and the camera moves so we can see his face.
“No,” I breathe out, eyes burning, my throat closing. My brain turns off as I take in all the familiar lines of his face, the shape of his lips, the arch of his eyebrows, the bend in his nose. I gag, choking on my fear and pain, the devastation of seeing him animated causing my insides to burn and the heart in my chest to twist.
I shake my head back and forth, back and forth, the strands of my hair whipping at my face. Denial becomes my new best friend as the camera backs up again so the full figure is in view. He lost weight, his bones poking out of his skin. He looks sickly dead, as he should be.
I’m staring at the impossible.
My ears pick up a keening noise, and I realize it’s coming from me. I try to stop, but it’s useless. I can’t tear my eyes away as chains raise from the ground and attach to the man’s limbs.
He screams. His screams are familiar too. He screams and screams and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about. The phone slips from my hands as I let out my own screams, curling into my body, unable to stop.
“Adalyn,” someone calls and hands pull at me, but all I can do is scream and scream.
They reanimated my father.
Dad…
25
My head is groggy when I climb out of unconsciousness. I don’t remember how I came to this state, but I do feel the pain stabbing at me from all over. It physically hurts to be in my skin as my thoughts turn back to my dad.
He’s alive.
But that’s impossible.
He’s dead. He’s very much dead.
He’s been buried.
How?
I whimper as the video comes back to my mind, the chains charging up and anchoring him to the ground. His screaming. He has to be suffering and it’s all because of me.
Bile rises in my throat as arms wrap around my chest and rock me.
“It’s okay,” Colton whispers into my ear. “It’s okay. We’ll fix this. I promise, we’ll fix this.”
I shake my head. There is no fixing this. Holsen somehow has my dad.
“How?” I croak out.
“The man with him,” Eli speaks up in a soft voice, “is Ijnan Bevette. He’s a well-known medium, strong enough to summon people back from the dead. He’s been in hiding for the last ten years.”
“And now Holsen has him too.” My voice is dead even to my own ears. I’m trying to process it all, but I can’t. I just can’t.
“We need to discuss this,” Colton says.
“She needs time to absorb this.”
“We don’t have time.” Colton’s voice is hard and he pulls away from me. Feeling cold without his touch, I try to curl into myself, but his hand finds mine, giving me
the comfort I need. He’s not letting me go. I squeeze hard as I see that version of my dad again.
After a few minutes, when I know I can talk again, I ask, “What do you mean?” My voice comes out scratchy, and I wince.
“Holsen was at the end of the video. He wants you. In return he’ll put your dad back to rest,” Eli fills in. “He gave you three days.”
He glances at Colton briefly before focusing back on me. I narrow my eyes at that.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Eli licks his lips and runs his hands over his thighs. “Ijnan is more gifted than the average medium. While he can communicate with the dead, he also specializes in soul-touching.”
“Soul-touching?” My brows scrunch in confusion. “I’ve never heard of that one.”
“As you can see in the video, he took your dad’s soul and put it back into his body,” Colton says. “He can touch souls. He can’t just do whatever he wants to them. He can’t control them. But he can hurt them.”
I make a gurgling sound as it all makes sense now.
“He’s going to torture my dead dad?” Disbelief turns my body cold. I scramble up from my spot on the couch and sprint to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before all the popcorn and candy comes back. It definitely tastes better going down than it does coming back up.
Rough hands grab my hair and help keep it out of my face.
“We know of a way to release your dad. We need something very personal of his to do it though. And we need to meet up with someone.” Colton’s calming voice is the only thing I have to hold onto right now while I try to breathe through the ache in my lungs. My stomach hates that it has to expel its contents as it cramps up, trying to hold onto whatever is left inside. But I can’t help it, not when I think about my father’s soul in the hands of Holsen.
“Adalyn, I know this is hard, but we really need to get moving. We’ll save him. I promise, but to do that we need to plan this out.”
“Okay,” I gasp out. “Okay.” Leaning back on my haunches, I wipe at the sweat on my forehead. Colton’s cool hand goes to the back of my neck, and I moan at the coolness against my feverish skin. “I need a minute.”
Even though I refuse to look at him, I can feel him hesitate. Finally, he sighs and gets to his feet. A moment later, the door closes.
I lean back until my back hits the wall and close my eyes. Every time I think about Dad, my stomach cramps and my throat closes. Tears fall down my cheeks and I don’t bother wiping them away.
I need a minute. That’s all. Just a minute.
Holsen has my dad’s soul. He should be resting, meeting Mom in whatever is after death. Instead, that bastard grabbed him and yanked him back. That couldn’t be good to his soul. I’d imagine that would be traumatic.
“Focus,” I whisper. “Focus.”
Slowly breathing in and out, I force my body to relax, my heart rate to slow down, and my fears to remain just that, a fear. I can’t afford to let it turn into panic. I’ll mess up if I do. Once I feel under control of myself again, I slip back out into the living room.
Someone had turned off the TV and the environment is completely silent and tense. When I go into the room, all four sets of eyes turn to me.
Jackson and DJ are now on the couch while Eli and Colton are over by a desk tucked into the corner, with Eli at the table, a laptop sitting on top and Colton leaning against the wall.
Their eyes follow me as I go over to the sofa chair and sit down, tucking my legs underneath me and wrapping my arms over my chest.
“What do we do?” I break the silence with that simple question.
Jackson shifts in his seat and draws my attention. He’s focused on me as he leans forward to rest his arms on his knees. His expression is dark, and the way he grips his hands together clues me into how angry he really is.
“Do you have any personal items of his? Something he loved and maybe always kept with him?” Colton asks.
I nod and breathe a sigh of relief that I kept it with me. “When he died, I couldn’t stick around to take care of everything. Before I could get all his things put into storage, Holsen got it all. He either still has it or got rid of it. The only thing I have is his wedding ring with me. When I found him…” I swallow at the stab of grief and shake my head. “When I found him, I grabbed it.” Pulling out the chain around my neck, I show them. Somehow, it had managed to stay with me despite everything I went through.
“Okay, good. An old friend owes us. We helped find her sister. She’s in Florida now, so we’ll pack up and leave tonight. It should take us about ten hours to get there if we go straight through, and since it’s the middle of the night, there won’t be too much traffic. We’ll be there by the morning, just as she’s getting to work.”
“Is it okay to go to her job?” I ask.
“She’ll have everything she needs there.” Jackson’s simple response has me questioning who we’re meeting.
“Jackson’s not the best at explanations,” Colton says, seeing my curiosity.
“Or talking in general,” DJ says, ignoring the glare sent his way by Jackson.
“We’re meeting with Dr. Deas,” Colton continues, ignoring DJ’s jab. “She’s a psychiatrist who specializes in healing the gifted whose’ abilities have harmed them mentally. Her specific gift is soul-weaving. If anyone can save your dad, it’s her.”
“And only her,” Jackson said. “Soul-weaving is probably almost as rare as your specific ability.”
Colton nods.
I look between the two of them, still feeling like I’m missing something. “How is this different from soul-touching?”
“Soul-touching is just that, a touch,” Colton continues to explain. “They can’t ‘change’ the soul, turn it into something else. Soul-weaving is deeper than that. She can heal the soul. If a soul takes on trauma, she can help. She can strip a soul away of their emotions, their intentions, and in a way, cleanse a soul of their trauma.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I assure you, she’s the gentlest person you’ll ever meet. She cares.” Colton tries to reassure me with a smile.
Returning it with a shaky smile of my own, I get to my feet. “Then what are we waiting for. Let’s go.”
After that, things move quickly and within the hour, the SUV is packed and Eli speeds down a bumpy road. I’m in the back, wedged between Jackson and DJ, both of them holding my hands to give me what comfort they can as my thoughts whirled around in dizzying circles.
They try to pull me into conversations, but I don’t hear them half the time.
My mind is filled with my dad’s image. The way he used to smile, his twinkling eyes, or the way they softened when he talked about Mom. He had been so full of life and now…
Now he’s a mindless zombie thing, his soul trapped in a body that could no longer sustain him.
26
I manage to catch a couple hours of sleep, somehow ending up lying on DJ. He didn’t seem to mind and when I wake up, he’s even grinning down at me.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets, voice husky from sleep. He must have managed to get some sleep too.
After licking my lips and wincing at the grossness of my mouth, I reply, “Morning. What time is it?” Not wanting him to smell my breath, I turn away from him. My nose wrinkles at the idea of him smelling it. If the taste in my mouth is similar to a dead skunk, I can only imagine what it smells like.
“A little after five.” DJ’s chest shakes as he talks, laughter edging into his words. “We’ll be there around nine, maybe even sooner if Jackson keeps driving the way he is.”
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“Here.” He reaches between his legs and pulls up a bag, digging through it. When he finds what he wants, he pulls it out and hands it to me.
Grinning, I take the compact toothbrush that’s perfect for traveling, and without saying anything else, begin cleaning my mouth.
With my eyes still blurry from sleep,
I glance around. Jackson is driving now with Eli next to him. Colton is on my other side, his head against the window as he breathes deeply, a soft snore coming from him. He looks so much younger in his sleep, his expression relaxed. There’s a vulnerability I don’t see when he’s awake that peeks through now. That makes me realize that his position as a leader has to be more stressful than he lets on. He has to make all the decisions and if he makes the wrong one, people could get hurt.
“Here.” DJ passes me a bottle of water, and I wince, realizing I need to pee now too.
“Um.” I shift in my seat.
“What’s wrong?” Jackson asks, glancing at his rearview mirror so he can see me.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
Eli chuckles. “There’s a rest stop up here. We need to fill up anyway and get some food, so it’s a good time to stop.”
A few minutes later, Jackson pulls into one of those full rest stops with a gas station, lots of bathrooms, a convenience store, and a small food court with three selections of food. All the guys, except for Colton get out. He’s still tucked up against his door, completely oblivious to the world.
“What about him?” I ask DJ when he leans forward to offer his hand to help me out.
“Let him sleep. He needs it.”
I bite at my lip, worry slipping in. He does look exhausted with dark baggy circles underneath his eyes. Then again, we all probably look like that.
“Come on, Lyn, he’ll be fine. We’ll bring him back something to eat and we’ll lock the door so no one can steal him.”
Lips twitching at the thought of someone trying to abduct him, I let DJ help me out of the SUV and we head inside. I beeline for the bathroom and quickly relieve myself. When I see myself in the mirror, I flinch.
Why didn’t the guys tell me I looked like death warmed over twice?
My pale skin is blotchy from the crying and the high stress. I really need to do something with my hair. I’m starting to resemble a skunk with the brown hair and the roots my natural white blonde. Dark puffy circles wrap around my eyes, making my blue-grey eyes murky.
Fate Foretold (Gifted Anomalies Book 1) Page 17