by Anna Rezes
The phantoms rush at me one after the other, and I automatically throw up my defenses, protecting my mind from them. They ricochet off of me and my mom waves them away.
She turns to me. “Emily, you need to open your mind. You need to accept them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to expect,” I tell my mother.
“Simply believe in your capabilities, sweetheart.” Her soothing words renew my strength.
I address the spirits, “Come back. Please, try again.”
The phantoms seem hesitant which is uproarious to Sky as he bellows with laughter.
If Patrick could rip apart his walls for me, then I can do this for these lost souls. “Spirits,” I call, “I will set you free. I’m ready now!”
One brave phantom rushes forward and dives into my mind. I fight my instincts and hold back my defenses. My mind absorbs the soul, and I feel her with all of my senses. I see her there in the confines of my mind. I taste her essence, hear her cries, smell her sadness, and feel her as my mind swells to make room for her. As soon as my mind assimilates, I shift her over to my physical body in the white room. Once she has passed over, I feel like myself again.
I don’t have time to think because when the spirits see my success, they all rush forward, flying into my body. The pain is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I collapse against the intrusion as my mind struggles to absorb the spirits. Seeing my affliction, my mom waves the remaining spirits off.
Sky advances while I’m defenseless, battling the agony in my head. The wind lashes my face like a whip, throwing me backward onto the ground as blood trickles from my temple.
“Emily, you must fight!” my mother yells.
Once I adjust to the feel of the spirits inside my mind, I get to my hands and knees. A steady stream of blood drips down my cheek and I’m momentarily dizzy. Seeing my struggle, Sky strikes again, but I don’t go down this time. I force away the thoughts in my head that are not my own and allow the spirits to move from my mind into my physical body. Once they are out of my way, I rise to my feet and retaliate.
“This. Ends. Here!” I shout as flames burst from my hands forcing Sky to retreat.
Strong gusts of wind push against my flames, trying to extinguish my fire, but a new power awakens within me, adding strength and increasing force behind my flames. I hold my own against Sky as the spirits resume transferring into my body. Overcoming the pain of them melding into me, I begin to experience their power.
Wind lashes my back, ripping my dress as blood seeps through the delicate fabric. I encircle myself in a ring of fire allowing myself a moment to recover. Time slows to a crawl as I continue to fight Sky, all the while absorbing the spirits as they come. The pain lessens with each new addition, and the accumulation of power is overwhelming. As my mind adapts to the spirits, Sky’s wind diminishes, and my fire grows into an inferno guided by the air current I now control.
As the remaining spirits escape Sky’s hold, he stumbles, collapsing to his knees, his voice filled with resignation. “All that power feels amazing, doesn’t it?”
“Stopping you feels amazing.”
“Do you plan to steal my soul as well?”
“I don’t want any part of you.”
“You are part of me, darling, and it seems as though you’ve inherited the gifts of the Leona bloodline as well. You are continuing my legacy, whether you realize it or not. You will not be able to give up those souls. The feeling is too magnificent! The power will rule you.”
He’s right, I do feel magnificent, but these are human souls. No matter how great they feel, they are not something to be owned or possessed.
“Once again, Father, you have no idea what I am capable of.”
“Just you wait. Just you wait until you go back to your body.”
My mother and Patrick’s parents are the only spirits left in Sky’s mind. Alessandra steps before me. “I made the right decision believing in you all those years ago. I would still choose you, even if you’re unable to grant us freedom.”
“I will. I will find a way to free you!”
She lowers her eyes. “In any event, please tell our son we love him. My death was never your fault or Patrick’s. It lies solely with Sky, who you have bested.” She lifts her eyes and her hand caresses my cheek. “I am forever grateful.” Before I’m able to respond, she jumps into my subconscious. With a warm smile, her husband follows suit.
Sky is unable to transfer into my mind because he neither has the strength nor my permission. He begins decaying before me. He will be the only one to remain in the prison of his own making.
I face my mother. “Mom, why are they saying these things now? They’re in my head. I can set them free!”
“Emily.” She cages my cheeks in her hands. “My strong, beautiful daughter, I am so proud of you. Even when it’s difficult, you value morals over temptation. Sometimes the right decisions are the hardest to make.” She places a hand on my chest. “Listen to your heart.” Her lips press into my forehead. “Now go before his mind collapses.”
My mother dives into my body before I can say anything, ask anything, before I can wrap my arms around her and beg her to stay with me. The plateau shakes under my feet warning me of disaster. I escape back to my physical body just before Sky’s mind implodes.
I’m back in the white room with Sky. His face contorts with anger. “You stupid bitch!” He raises his cane to strike me only to disintegrate before my very eyes. As his body turns to dust, his suit and gloves fall to the floor. His cane remains upright for a second longer before it clatters against the tile.
I have no time to assimilate because the cacophony inside my mind cripples me. An all-consuming power is blazing inside of me, a hundred times amplified now that I’ve returned to my own body. Euphoria encompasses me as supreme power circulates through my veins. It’s building me stronger, making me indestructible, changing me into a God among humans. This is the power Sky bragged about. It’s invading my being, clouding my judgment, but I’m helpless to fight against it. The omnipotent strength occupying my mind obliterates my weak human resolve.
Patrick’s mind reaches for me, causing me to stutter in my thoughts. He’s worried about me. The reminder of loyalty halts the overwhelming urge to consume. I am bound to Patrick, obligated to fulfill my promise to the broken child from his memories. I am bound to the promise to free the souls now trapped within my mind. Sky can’t destroy any more lives. I defeated him, but will I become just like him? Will I continue his legacy just as he predicted?
As my thoughts drift to the man who raised me as his own flesh and blood, cracks begin to chip away the steel bars that greed is creating around my heart. I must release the souls before the overwhelming desire for power consumes me completely.
A blood-curdling scream escapes me. Like a wild vine grown untamed around a tree, the power strangles me, taking over my very essence. The splintering in my head is agony as the yearning for more absorbs my voice of reason. Now I understand why my mother and Alessandra said their goodbyes before they left Sky’s mind. They knew I could defeat Sky, but they also knew the power would consume my being.
The agonizing pain continues. I have failed them. None of us are free.
thirty-three
“Tom, do you really need to wake her?” Julie whispers outside Morgan’s bedroom door, but Tom is already opening the door. They enter the room and he calls Morgan’s name.
She sits up and turns on the light. “Yeah, what’s wrong, Dad?”
“Have you heard from Emily or Patrick?” he asks.
“No, Dad. For the twenty-fifth time, no.”
“Do you have any idea where Emily might go?” he asks, walking further into the room.
“Dad, I already told you. Samantha said she went to Colorado with her dad.”
“She’s not in Colorado. Are you sure she hasn’t tried to call you or reach out?”
“Tom, stop interrogating her,” Julie scolds.
“Anything from Patrick
? Have you talked to Ben?” he continues, ignoring his wife’s request.
“I promise, Dad, I don’t know anything.” Morgan shakes her head exhausted and baffled. “All I know is Emily broke up with Ben and left with Patrick. Ashley told me Emily quit her job. I don’t think she’s coming back, Dad. What’s going on? Why is it bothering you so much?”
“I need you to call Ben,” Tom says with urgency. “Ask him to come over. He must know something!”
“Dad, it’s five o’clock in the morning!”
“Something else is going on here. Trust me, Ben knows something, whether he realizes it or not.”
“Dad, this is crazy. The police even said they’re in Colorado.”
“The police can be deceived,” he says. “Now call Ben or I will!”
Morgan picks up her phone and dials Ben.
“Morgan?” Ben answers, voice heavy with sleep.
“Hey, sorry to call you so early.”
“You okay?” Ben asks.
“Could you come over? It’s important. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“On my way.”
Morgan puts the phone down and glares at her dad. “Dad, whatever is going on, this better be worth it.”
“Something’s wrong. I . . . I . . . No!” Tom shrieks in agony, as blood trickles from his nose. His eyes roll back, and Julie catches him mid-collapse, softening his fall.
The power shift going on down the hall jolts Patrick from his unconscious state. He awakens, lying on the cold cement floor just outside of Emily’s empty cell. Disoriented with a pounding headache, he moves his stiff neck around on his shoulders. He stumbles to his feet, and the sensation of terror engulfs him when he realizes Emily ditched him to face Sky on her own.
His thoughts are fuzzy, like static caused by faulty wiring between his mind and body. He stumbles to the door trying to mute the incessant struggle. His mind reaches for Emily and finds her amidst grave turmoil, pivoting on life and death. A blast of energy rolls through the building, permeating the minds of every Olvasho in its wake. A violence that is not his own seethes through Patrick’s veins as devastation resonates through the air.
A muscular man smashes through the door. Rage consumes Patrick, and he lashes out, swinging fists and dodging blows, unsure of why he’s fighting, except it’s the only thing that feels right. Patrick lands more punches than the other guy, but he’s thrown off his feet when a second man tackles him. He rolls to the floor narrowly avoiding the boot aimed for his ribs.
Gunshots echo from down the hall and bullets ricochet off the walls. The brawl turns into a bloodbath as another Olvasho holding a gun in each hand comes firing toward the fighting men.
Tom is sitting in a chair in his living room while Morgan wipes the blood from his face with a warm rag.
“Dad, you need to go to the hospital. Mom, can’t you make him go? People don’t collapse unless something is wrong!”
“I’m not going to the hospital,” Tom refuses.
Morgan looks to her ashen, freaked-out mother, but Julie escapes by answering the knock at the front door.
Softening her voice, Morgan implores, “Dad, this isn’t you. Please, for me, please let me take you to the emergency room. All the paranoia and insomnia in the last week could be linked to what’s going on with you now.”
His face softens. “No matter what happens, I want you to know I love you and I have valid reasons.”
When Ben enters the room, Tom studies him with calculating intensity.
Morgan apologizes, “Ben, I’m sorry to drag you here, it’s just—”
“What do you know of Patrick and Emily?” Tom interrupts.
Ben is frozen like he’s caught in a trap, startled by the power in Tom’s words.
“Ben, your hand, did she fix it?” Tom is insistent. “You know what she is, don’t you?”
Ben covers his mended hand. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Eyes wary, he turns to study Morgan.
Tom confesses, “I am, but Morgan is not. Morgan is in the dark, and I only recently told her mother. Now, where is Emily?”
“She got a text from Mark. He was taken. She . . .” He stops short.
“Ben, I’m only trying to help her,” Tom encourages. “That you’re cautious in telling me shows you have her best interest at heart. Something is happening to her. I can feel it. I need to get to her before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” Morgan asks. “What’s going on?”
“The current is getting stronger,” Tom mumbles. “I don’t know if I can fight . . .” His words turn into a growl. Tom closes his eyes, breathing against the building rage as a red haze blurs his vision. He roars an incoherent warning before launching at Ben.
Ben jumps aside, years of martial arts training coming in handy. Tom—no longer in control of his body—attacks Ben. Ben dodges the punches and kicks, holding his own.
“Dad! Stop it!” Morgan shouts.
Tom turns his fury toward Morgan who becomes his next target. She stares at the rage in her dad’s eyes, and fear paralyzes her. Understanding what is about to happen, Ben grabs Tom from behind and neutralizes him before he attacks his own daughter.
“Don’t . . . let . . . go,” Tom croaks through clenched teeth, thrashing against Ben’s hold. A guttural moan chokes his throat as he fights to speak. “She’s fighting . . . she’s doing this to us.” A savage cry escapes Tom and Julie collapses into tears on the floor.
Morgan desperately wants to understand why her father’s body appears to be taken over by a wild animal. “Who is doing this to you?”
“Emily.” His cry is grief-stricken. “She’s dying!”
Morgan’s heart drops and she looks to Ben. “What the hell is going on?”
Bullets are flying in every direction, but miraculously Patrick remains unscathed. When the gun is empty, Patrick moves on instinct to tackle the shooter. A frenzied rage has a grip on both men as they engage in a brutal fight. Patrick gains the advantage with a stranglehold, and it takes every ounce of his restraint to keep from killing his opponent.
Clarity hits Patrick when he realizes this power is greater than his own. It’s Valla blood at work, consuming every Olvasho with Emily’s wrath as she fights Sky.
Patrick’s body collapses as the all-consuming violence burns out as quickly as it began. He struggles to get to his feet as the need to find Emily overwhelms him.
Tom goes limp in Ben’s arms as he lowers him to the floor. “He appears to be docile for the moment, but I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Morgan takes the opportunity to check on her mother who is falling to pieces. She does her best to offer comfort, and even though she doesn’t know if everything will be okay, she mumbles the words anyway.
“Morgan, he’s conscious and trying to say something,” Ben says from where he’s guarding Tom.
Tom’s voice is weak from all the shouting. Morgan grabs a bottle of water and Ben supports his head while Morgan helps him drink.
“Dad, what happened?”
“It’s done,” he rasps, his forlorn eyes forming tears. “She . . . she lost. She’s . . . dead. Emily is dead.”
thirty-four
It’s quiet, too quiet. And it’s bright, so bright it should hurt my eyes, but it doesn’t. It’s a beautiful light, the kind people run to, but I don’t need to run because it’s surrounding me. All of the pain I felt is gone, and my soul is content here in this tranquil place. I don’t have to wonder where I am. I know, because only one thing can end all suffering. There is peace and light in this place that cannot survive among the living.
“You have done it. You have set us free,” my mother says, her face glowing with admiration and love.
A warm feeling fills the hole she left in my heart all those years ago. There is no sadness, only love replacing the hurt that once was. I wrap my arms around her. “Mom, I’ve missed you so much.”
“I have missed you,” she says, before pulling back. Her hands cup my cheeks.
“I always knew you’d be the one to finish this. I’m sorry it’s been your burden to carry.”
“It’s finished. It’s not my burden anymore.”
“I wish that was true. There is a great deal more for you, Emily. There are people counting on you.”
“It’s too late.” I motion to our surroundings, wondering if this is heaven.
“If I could do it for you, I would,” she whispers, sadness seeping into her bright eyes.
“Do what?”
“Fight. Suffer.” She brushes the hair from my face. “Live.”
“Mom?”
She hugs me again, whispering in my ear, “I love you. I will see you again someday.”
The tranquil surroundings become cold; the feeling of peace turns to sorrow as my mother slips between my fingers. I open my eyes and my senses come screaming back. I am alone, lying on a cold tile floor surrounded by white walls. The illuminated ceiling tiles make everything agonizingly bright.
The emptiness I feel after holding two hundred souls is crushing. The silence is too silent and my mind echoes through the hollow space. As I forced the souls from my mind, my soul temporarily fled as well, escaping the undulating pain, but death would not accept me.
I gather myself from the floor and feel new aches in every part of me. I hear footsteps in the hall. They are coming closer and they’re coming fast. I reach out with my mind, but pain incapacitates me. Moaning, I fall to my knees and grab my head.
The door bursts open and I look up, unready to face another opponent. Patrick enters the room looking like he’s been through Hell. Blood drips from his mouth and his once crisp white shirt is torn and stained. He hurries toward me and kneels down. Gently, he touches his fingers to my cheek as if seeing a ghost.
“You’re alive,” he breathes.
“Of course.” I give him a weak smile. “Sam would kill me if I died before her wedding.”
A broken laugh escapes him, and he visibly relaxes, releasing the breath he’d been holding, but his smile fades as he looks around the empty room. “You beat Sky, but where is he?”