by R. R. Virdi
Not unnoticed at least. But there it was. I found myself wearing a grim smirk. The Neravene manifested Ortiz’s fear of the elemental. Truth be told, I didn’t think she could feel fear. Surprise—sure. Anger, definitely anger, of that I was aware. Fear though? On my last case with her, I couldn’t recall a moment where she was truly paralyzed by fear. She soldiered through all of it—grit, gore and more.
But nightmares never strike in the moment. They linger and get you down the line. A pang ran through me as I remembered it all. It was my fault before, and it was again. She had told me I couldn’t keep her away from this. That wasn’t true. I could’ve if I really wanted to. I could’ve ditched her, lied—anything. A part of me—and I was ashamed to admit it—had wanted to bring her along. I trusted her and, hell, could rely on her. Because of that, she was going to die. We both were.
“Fuck. That!” I snarled. I’m not good with the whole lay down and die shtick. This wasn’t real. It was a byproduct of Ortiz’s fear and a bit of my own. So long as we gave it power, it had power. That’s how fear works. You feed it—it grows. The way to beat it: starve it. All I had to do was convince Ortiz that the monster wasn’t real, and it would cease to be.
Easier said than done.
My hand exerted the sort of pressure reserved for macho male dominance handshakes. It wasn’t enough to crush her hand, and she was no pushover. She could take it. I was trying to make it hurt. Pain is a great way for your mind to change its focus. One second you’re worried about the fiery woman who could burn you to cinders. Next you’re wondering why some asshole is trying to crush your hand?
It worked.
Ortiz’s horrified look faded as her eyes shot down to her hand, then to me. With a growl, she withdrew it and shoved me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Holding hands.” I gave her a goofy grin. “That’s what couples do.”
“Keep smiling. It’ll make it easier for me to knock your teeth out.”
I shrugged. “It got you to stop thinking about that for a second.” I pointed to the elemental.
Her eyes ballooned and she scampered back a step. “Shit! I thought it was a bad dream.” She put a hand to her head, wiping away some sweat.
“It is.” I waggled a hand in a so-so gesture. “I told you about this place. It draws on your thoughts, feelings…fears.”
Her face went through a myriad of expressions, finally settling on one indicating deep thought. “I was thinking about the elemental.” She put it all together. “I have bad memories of it, so….”
“Yeah, which is also why it’s not moving.” I pointed to the creature. It stood there in the definition of stillness, minus the swaying tail. Flames licked their way up the walls of the room but no further. Not a single wisp of fire left the confines of the bedroom. It was waiting on Ortiz. If she gave into her fear any further, it’d take action. Or, she could dissolve it right there.
“It’s in your head Ortiz.” I gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Easy for you to say,” she growled. “That thing nearly killed me.”
It almost did. I was there. I couldn’t tell her that though. “Yeah, but it didn’t, did it? You’re still here, and the only reason it is is because you’re letting it. It’s got rent-free accommodations in your noggin. You beat this thing. You killed it.” My voice picked up enough heat to match the inferno before us.
“I don’t—”
“Hey!” I shouted. My hand slid to grab her forearm. “It’s. In. Your. Head! Nowhere else. Stop being such a little girl!” Those last words elicited a reaction from her. A fist lashed out and my arm throbbed.
“Who are you calling a little girl? You’re freaking out just as bad as me.” Her face hardened but her eyes shone with a hint of humor.
Good. Better that than fear. I could work with that.
“Pssh, look at your clothes.” I waved two fingers at them. “You pretty much wet yourself.”
Another jab, another dull throb stacked atop the previous one.
“Seriously, if I break all the teeth in your mouth, will you still be such a monumental smartass?”
I put on my best Shakespearean accent. “To be…or not to be!” I even lifted my hand to the sky all-theatrical-like. Seriously, I could’ve won an award. It was that good.
She shook her head and muttered something that sounded like, “Bat-shit.” But she smiled. “This is all in my head,” she whispered to herself.
“It is,” I said. “Keep it there, not here.” I squeezed her arm. “I’m here.”
She chewed her lips and shut her eyes.
“No pressure,” I whispered. “It’s not like if you fail, we get cremated.”
Her eyes never opened, but I could feel her glare. That was frightening—a supernatural ability in its own right.
My breath caught halfway down my throat, unable to find its way to my lungs. The flames dwindled. She was doing it. I resolved to keep quiet and allow Ortiz the concentration she needed to work through her demons. It wasn’t easy.
Fire waned. The elemental flickered in and out of view. Seconds later, the entire scene vanished like a white car driving into early morning, mountain fog. It faded from sight and we were left there, sweating.
“You good?” I gave her a gentle shake.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”
I didn’t say anything. I rose from my place beside her and walked over to check on Lizzie. My body shivered as I drew near. The sudden chill prompted me to wring my shirt and slip it back on. A veil of icy moisture hung around her. She was surrounded by ghosts. I reached and tapped her on the shoulder. “Lizzie, you okay?”
No response.
Her eyes were shut, head craned to the ceiling in an odd, esoteric pose. She seemed oblivious to everything that had happened.
“Lizzie?”
“Hmm?” She sounded like she’d woken up from nap time. “Sorry, I….” She trailed off, her face riddled with confusion. “The ghosts were helping me.”
“With what?”
“To not see. That’s what they said.”
They sheltered her? If I understood her correctly, the ghosts had spared her from being drawn into Ortiz’s nightmare. I didn’t know they could do that. This might have been their chunk of the Neravene, but to interact with it that much? I was at a loss for words. Then there was Lizzie herself. The second I thought I understood her connection to ghosts, all my notions were shattered. I was starting to wonder if she was even human. I decided to keep a better eye on her after this case ended, if I could.
I carefully drew back from Lizzie. Something impressed upon me to give her a bit of space. I gave both women some time to themselves, choosing to investigate the room the elemental had inhabited.
I gagged as I stepped into it. It smelled like brimstone. The previous shades of solemn blue were blackened. The entire room would’ve been overkill for even the most hardcore of Goths. Acute pressure enveloped my upper arm. Fingers dug into it, making sure I wouldn’t move. “Ortiz, what gives?”
Her voice dropped to a dangerous low whisper. “How did you know I killed an elemental?” There was a dangerous light in her eyes.
Shit!
I hadn’t been thinking when I said that. I had been so worried and spoke to reassure her. No good deed and all that. I could tell her I was with her when we pancaked the elemental. Or I could lie.
So I did. “You told me.”
The light in her eyes deepened. “No, I didn’t.”
It nearly slipped my mind that Camilla Ortiz was a human lie detector. “It was implied,” I said.
“No, it wasn’t.”
Come on, Ortiz; give a guy a break, jeez.
“Word travels?” I gave her a hapless shrug.
“No, it doesn’t.” Her grip tightened. She was done playing around. “You’re lying to me.” Her voice made it clear that she knew it as fact. Well, it was fact.
Ah, what the hell.
“Yes, I am.
”
“Why?” Her voice held notes of a plea.
“Can’t tell you.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so rough. I was surprised my voice didn’t crack. Every ounce of me wanted to tell her the truth.
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Yes.” I gave her a look saying that was as much as I’d explain.
Her eyes narrowed, and her grip tightened to more than just discomforting. “Why? I’m right here beside you. Here!” she stressed, gesturing to the warped asylum. “I’m fighting shadow people and whatever other monsters are in this place—with you.”
She was. My stomach churned. I didn’t voice that guilt however. “You chose to come.” I let the harsh words hang in the air.
Smoky chestnut eyebrows rose. Her eyes widened, and the vice-like grip—faltered. “Yes, I did,” she whispered. “Because I wanted to help. I couldn’t sit back and watch people get hurt. I didn’t want someone like you to go in alone and possibly get hurt, or worse.”
Every word she spoke was a hammer to my gut.
“Don’t you trust me?” She looked away for a second and her lips folded. She looked pained.
That question hit harder than any of them. “It’s not about trust. You’ve seen the world that I deal with. Knowledge here is power, but it’s also dangerous. It’s not about trust, damnit. Ortiz, I do trust you, a helluva lot.”
“Then what?”
“Honestly? Part of it’s personal. No, scratch that. A lot of it’s personal. Part of it is that I don’t want to get you involved, despite the fact that you are. This life is dangerous. The answers you want.... They might not be dangerous in their own right but, trust me, they can get you involved in some pretty nasty stuff.” I was right though. If she knew the truth about me, the knowledge itself wouldn’t hurt her, but it could draw her into the crossfire. I’ve made my fair share of paranormal allies and contacts over the years. I’ve made a good deal of enemies, too. That was the problem.
Even if Ortiz hadn’t ruffled any supernatural feathers herself, I sure as hell have. That could blow back on her if she was affiliated with me. All she needed was to know my identity and she would become a target. The supernatural aren’t known for playing fair. Anyone close to me could become a target.
I have the advantage of being hard to find. I’m always bouncing between bodies and location. Ortiz probably had a place of permanence. That made her easy to find, easy to get to. If there’s anything the nasties of the paranormal world love, it’s easy prey.
“And that’s your call?” Her voice was dangerously quiet.
“Some of it is. Some of it isn’t.” I shrugged. “The part I can control is not telling you things you don’t need to know, or shouldn’t.”
“And if I want to know?”
“Tough luck. Until I decide to tell you, that is.”
Nails dug deeper into the flesh of my arm. “That’s bullshit! I have a right to know! I’m getting involved in this crap with you!”
“Yeah!” I shot back, my voice rising. “You did. You did!” I made it clear that it was her choice. “I’m glad you’re here. I really am. But if it means you getting hurt, I’d rather you were on the other side of the planet right now! I mean, damnit, Ortiz, what—”
A simple yet resolved voice cut through our argument with ease. “Stop fighting,” she said in an odd balance between soft and hard. Like a feather sharpened to a sword’s edge.
Ortiz and I turned to Lizzie. She stood there, her face as firm as her voice. Big brown orbs sparked with heat.
“She’s right. We’ve got a job to do.” My voice was gruff. “We can talk later.”
Ortiz’s grip tightened for a second, making a point as she nodded. “Later.” Her tone left no room for argument. We were going to talk later, no matter what.
Yippee….
Lizzie turned and moved in complete silence, leading the way as Ortiz and I hung back. We moved down the halls, wary of anything that might try to sneak up on us. None of us were in the mood for any other surprises. Too bad life doesn’t hold what we want in the highest of regard.
Our progress came to a halt when we came across a surge of black. It was a cloak of shadows arcing from the ceiling to the floor. Wall-to-wall blackness obscured what lay beyond. The grim veil gave me a good idea of what was lingering on the other side.
“We’re here.” Lizzie’s body quivered in anxiety.
“Yeah.” I licked my lips. Cold emanated from the barrier of black, but not the sort we experienced with the ghosts. It wasn’t something chilling to make you shudder or pale. It was something else—something worse. It was the sort of cold you feel when you go numb emotionally. It was akin to apathy—not caring. Trust me when I say that’s what made it feel more unsettling.
Ortiz’s hand reached out toward the veil. I lashed out and grabbed her by the wrist. “What is it with you and wanting to touch the icky black stuff? No!” I pulled her hand away from the dark, paranormal curtain.
A look of confusion flickered across her face. I could see that she was thinking something. Whatever it was, she kept it to herself. Good. So long as she didn’t go touching the spooky wall of shadows.
That was for me to do.
I extended my arm, holding my hand a hair’s breadth from the surface of the shadow wall.
“What are you doing?” Ortiz looked at me like I was nuts.
Guilty.
Something stupid. “What you seek lies beyond, heroes!” I said in my most animated of voices.
Ortiz muttered something I couldn’t hear and shook her head. Lizzie stifled a laugh. Glad to know my humor is appreciated by someone.
Something thrummed from the wall, a vague sense of energy. I wasn’t attuned to magic. I can’t recognize the faintest trace of the stuff. I wasn’t able to make much out other than I needed to be cautious around it. Spreading my fingers, I placed them against the surface and pushed. The wall gave. It wasn’t much. Then it pushed itself against my fingers. It resumed its shape. The stuff was like Flubber. Black, ominous, creepy Flubber.
I was betting it wouldn’t have the friendly and exuberant nature of Flubber though. Nor would it try to help me win a basketball game.
I pushed harder. The wall gave in further, giving the impression my hand would make it all the way through. It may have been exuding hostile vibes, but so far it hadn’t done anything terrible. I guessed the shadow dicks were somewhere on the other side of the barrier. So was Lizzie’s sister.
I hoped.
My fingers curled and tightened. I launched my fist into the black curtain. I met some resistance, but I can throw a damn good punch. My hand made it through to the other side. It hung there for a moment before I pulled it back. Examining my hand and arm, I saw nothing wrong. Guess it was safe to pass through. Although I was certain that whatever was waiting on the other side wasn’t so safe. It never was.
“Didn’t you just say not to touch the disturbing black stuff?” I could picture Ortiz frowning behind me.
“No, I told you not to touch it.” I hooked a thumb to my face. “I’m an intrepid paranormal investigator. I can touch whatever I want.” I waggled my fingers in a mysterious manner. Ortiz rolled her eyes as I turned back to face the wall.
Somewhere over my shoulder, I heard Lizzie mutter, “Boys.”
Ortiz snickered as if she understood what that meant. I sure as hell didn’t.
“Just follow me,” I growled, “and stay close.” I tensed my muscles and pushed against the wall. The wall resisted, but only for a moment. I was through.
Chapter Sixteen
The blues and grays of the asylum were gone. A black veneer replaced them and dimmed all light. My eyes struggled to adapt. I could barely see a thing.
Something flickered past my vision, or I thought it did. I wasn’t sure. The human mind is adept at playing tricks, running wild with your fears. Although, considering where I was, it was possible that my fears were being brought to life. I tightened my body in response to the shiver
that wanted to break loose. If there was something, or a bunch of somethings, watching, I wasn’t going to let them see me scared.
Show fear in the sight of a supernatural predator, and you’re asking to be dinner.
A puckering sound drew my attention to the wall behind me. Ortiz popped through the darkened veil, bringing Lizzie along by her hand. I couldn’t completely make them out, only the faint outline of their figures. They were likely squinting, as I was, trying to adjust to the dark.
“Where are we, Charles?”
“We’re in the part of the asylum the shadow beings have holed up in. They’re corralling the ghosts here.”
“They don’t belong here,” Lizzie snarled.
I eyed her askance. It was odd to see the normally happy girl snarling. “No, they don’t,” I agreed. This place was the domain of the ghosts in the Neravene. The shadow beings were trespassing, but that’s what they did. They were parasites, breaking into the domain of others. Mostly weaker-willed paranormal creatures they could feed off. Ghosts are broken things. What better prey than something broken? First rule of hunting: go for the weak, the slow, the elderly, the helpless. The ghosts may not have been completely helpless, as demonstrated earlier, but they didn’t have it easy either.
It’s difficult to fight something that feeds on your essence.
And here, it definitely seemed like the ghosts were at a disadvantage. The entire place was cloaked in shadows. The shadows could be hiding anywhere. These things could move through walls. Hell, for all I knew, they could have been the walls themselves. That thought caused all manner of nausea. I gave the room a suspicious look.
“Lizzie, I don’t suppose there’s anything your ghostly buddies can do about the dark?”
She scrunched her face and furrowed her brows. “Sort of, but you’re not going to like it.”
I arched an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
“Some of them will have to stay back,” she said.