Awakening (18 page)

He let out a sigh and looked back at
me. “Whatever happens, remember I’m beside you. I won’t let
anything happen to you.”

I nodded my head.

He reached out and his finger gently
brushed against my cheek. “Just remember to breathe.”

“
Breathe. Got
it.”

We made our way across the parking lot
and went through a pair of sliding glass doors.

Remember to breathe, Luke said. Easier
said than done. The minute I walked into the building the breath
was knocked right out of me. It was as if a wave of static
electricity slammed into me. It buzzed against my skin. I stood
there trying to get my bearings when a cold draft rushed by me. And
then another. I heard a whisper of voices on the wind. We weren’t
alone.

I felt like I was suddenly in a
crowded room. I tried to take a breath but couldn’t. I was
claustrophobic--there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. Everything
began to close in on me. I felt my knees start to
buckle.

And then Luke’s was in front of me.
His eyes filled with concern. He reached out and put his hand on my
shoulder. “It’s okay. It’ll get better in a minute. Try to
concentrate on me.”

I nodded my head and looked into his
eyes, and the feeling of panic, the feeling of being crowded in,
started to ebb away.

I took one breath and then
another.

“
Keep your focus on me.
Focusing on the living helps.”

I nodded my head and looked around at
the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Plenty of living were
roaming the halls, and I needed to keep my focus on them and away
from whatever was lurking in the shadows.

Luke took my hand, and we headed
through a waiting room and into a wide hallway. We walked up and
down a maze of halls, pushing open a door, we headed up a flight of
stairs. We were entering another wing of the hospital. In this
section rooms were full of patients. As we passed open doors, I
could make out shapes lying in bed. Many of the people seemed
hooked up to machines. The sound of beeping filled the air. There
were fewer nurses in this section of the hospital. One glared at us
from behind a desk.

Luke abruptly stopped and dropped my
hand. He pointed to a group of chairs over in a corner. “Wait here,
I’ll be right back.”

At the loss of physical contact, I
felt a moment of panic. My hand came up and grasped the pouch. I
settled into a chair and watched Luke head down the
hallway.

He stopped in front of one of the
rooms. A woman came out and greeted him. They shook hands. I
watched them and then realized someone was talking to
me.

“
I know you can hear
me.”

I turned and looked up expecting to
see someone standing over me. No one was there. I was alone. But I
wasn’t.

“
See. I knew you could hear
me.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood
up.

The seat next to me rattled. “Listen
to me. I need you to listen to me. My son, he needs to know about
the ring, I meant to tell him, I thought there was still
time.”

I felt a tug on my arm and realized I
was on my feet, heading toward a room.

I stood in the doorway. There was an
elderly lady lying in one of the beds. She was hooked up to
machines and a mask covered her face. Tubes protruded from her
arms.

“
Tell him that I put the
ring in a blue box, in the back of the closet. My hiding place in
case someone tried to rob my house.”

I realized there were other people in
the room. A man and woman were sitting in chairs in the corner of
the room by the window. They were holding hands. Sadness filled the
man’s face.

“
He’s going to marry her.
He told me last week that he was going to propose. He asked me for
the ring, but before I could give it to him…” the voice trailed
off.

This was crazy. What was I going to
say to the couple? I shouldn’t be in the room. I shouldn’t be
interfering in these people’s lives, not when they were dealing
with something so tragic.

I started to back out of the room, but
there was the tug on my arm again. “You have to tell him where to
find the ring.”

I opened my mouth the words rushed
out, “Excuse me, sir.”

The man looked up at me. Grief filled
his face.

“
Your mother wanted you to
know…”

He rose from his seat. “Are you a
friend of hers?” He put out his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know all
her friends.”

I took a step back and shook my head.
I felt a nudge at my shoulder as if someone gave me a gentle
push.

The voice again this time more
insistent, “Tell him about the ring. His grandmother’s
ring.”

“
Your mother wanted me to
tell you that she left the ring in a box. A blue box in the back of
her closet.”

“
The ring?”

“
Your grandmother’s
engagement ring.”

A light of understanding came into his
eyes. He turned and looked at the woman. “Oh the ring.”

The voice whispered in my ear, “Tell
him, not to worry. I’m going to a better place.”

“
Your mother…she says…she
says not to worry. She’s going to a better place.”

“
I don’t understand.” He
took in my appearance and then his gaze rested on the pouch hanging
around my neck. His face suddenly filled with fear. “Who are you?”
he demanded.

Shock at his reaction
quickly gave way to anger. Here I was, trying to help him, and he
was looking at me like I was evil and dangerous. I realized my
hands were clenched into fists, and I had strong irrational urge to
hit him. This man was losing his mother. I should have been feeling
sympathy for him, and instead I only felt anger toward him. What
was happening to me?

I took a step back. “I’m sorry I
didn’t mean to intrude.”

I turned and rushed out of the door. I
headed down the hallway and ran into Luke.

Luke held up his hands. “Whoa. I was
looking for you. Is everything okay?”

I couldn’t get the image of the man’s
expression as he looked at me out of my head. That look of fear and
repulsion that came over his face as he realized what I
was.

I nodded my head. “Yes, everything’s
fine.”

Luke grabbed my hand. “I’m done. We
can go.”

I started to walk away and the voice
whispered after me, “Thank you. Thank you for telling
him.”

This was now my life. Passing on
messages from the dead. A chill ran down my spine. Being despised
and feared by people was now my life. What had been done to me
could never be undone. I had opened the doorway to the spirits, and
now I would spend the rest of my life seeing them and hearing
them.

Chapter Nine

When we returned to Pagan’s place,
Luke announced that he’d some research he had to do before the next
ritual. He grabbed a half dozen books off various bookshelves
scattered around the room and piled them onto the dining room
table.

He met my offer of assistance with a
half smile and a “No thanks, I’ve got this.”

Left to my own devices, I paced around
the living room. Waiting for my family’s spirits to appear meant
that I was more than a bit on edge. Every noise had me jumping.
When I grew tired of pacing, I spent a long while flipping through
magazines I found on the coffee table. An hour passed and then
another and nothing happened.

A storm had been brewing outside, and
it finally made its appearance. The dark clouds opened up, and rain
slid against the windows. I got up and sat by the window watching
the trees blow back and forth in the wind. The temperature in the
room dropped, but this time the chill was nature’s doing--the storm
lowered the temperature. It was getting quite cold
outside.

It was also chilly inside. I rubbed my
hands together and looked over at the dying fire. A stack of wood
leaned against the wall, so I got up and threw a couple of logs
onto the fire. I spent quite a bit of time squatting in front of
the flames, stabbing at them with a long black fire iron. More time
passed, and I was bored and extremely hungry. I hadn’t eaten
breakfast or lunch, and when my stomach growled for the second
time, I dropped the fire iron and headed into the kitchen. It was
time to make myself something to eat.

I passed Luke sitting at
the table
,
bent
over a book. Whatever he was reading had captured his full
attention.

I stopped and sat down in the chair
next to him. “How’s it going?”

He didn’t look up. “Fine. Everything’s
fine. Any contact from your family yet?”

“
No, no
spirits.”

Another book lay open on
the table in front of me. I took a closer look. It was a big book,
covered in brown leather, the pages yellow with age. Intricate
drawings done in black ink covered the pages. I leaned closer and
studied a picture of a man standing before a big block of stone, a
dozen faces floating around him.
Those
must be Banshees.
Other things surrounded
the banshees--bigger, darker things. I wondered what they
were.

“
How’s your research
going?” I reached out to tug the book closer.

Luke grabbed my hand and pulled it
back. “Don’t touch the books.”

“
I just wanted to take a
look.”

His expression was serious.
“I’m not worried about the books. I’m worried about
you
.” He held up the book
he’d been reading. “The books have power. Spells have been done to
them. You’re still untrained and wide open. There’s no telling what
could happen.”

I yanked my hand away and pushed my
chair back. Talking to the dead was more than enough for me to
handle at the moment. The last thing I wanted or needed was more
freaky and scary in my life.

I waved my hand at the table. “Does
this stuff have something to do with the last ritual?”

He closed the book in front of him.
“Not this one.” He pointed to another book. “That one has the
spells I’ve got to do for the ritual.”

“
Spells? There’s more than
one?” I didn’t like the sound of that.

He ran his hand through his hair,
looking tired. “It’s a complicated ritual. I told you before I’ve
never done them--I’ve only watched others do them. But this last
one. It’s very tricky, and I’ve only seen it performed a couple of
times.”

“
But you can do
it?”

He looked away for a few minutes
before answering, “I think I can.”

His reluctance didn’t make me feel any
better about the ritual. “Did you get what you needed?”

He gave me a questioning
look.

“
At the hospital, did you
get what you needed to do the spell?” I asked.

He replied in a low voice, “We can do
the last ritual tomorrow night.”

Tomorrow night. I was going through
the last ritual tomorrow night. I wondered how bad it was going to
be and if he’d give me some kind of warning at the last minute. A
speech like he’d given me before the first two rituals about how
things didn’t always turn out well and the people who’d messed them
up weren’t around anymore. I gave myself a mental shake. I’d
survived the first two rituals. I could survive this last
one.

“
And until tomorrow night,
what’s the plan of action?” I took a few steps back. Better to give
the books some distance. I didn’t like the idea that they had
spells swirling around them.

“
We wait for your family to
contact you.”

“
And if they don’t?” They
hadn’t so far. I was starting to wonder if they ever
would.

He gave me a half smile. “They will.”
He turned back to the table, grabbed another one of the books and
started flipping through the pages.

Luke seemed more stressed
and preoccupied with this ritual than any of the others.
Why is this one so different?
I wanted to ask, but I swallowed my question. Did I really
want to know? Each ritual had some freaky aspect to it. First I’d
been strangled and then brought back. Then I’d had a spirit possess
me. God only knew what this next trial would entail. But we weren’t
doing it until tomorrow night. The more I knew, the more time I had
to worry about what might happen.

“
I’m going to make myself
something to eat. Are you hungry?”

He looked up and gave me another
smile. “No, but thanks for asking.” He motioned toward the books.
“I’m just going to get back to this.”

“
Okay. Good luck.” I didn’t
know what else to say. I turned and made my way into the
kitchen.

I hunted around the cupboards and the
fridge. If we were going to stay here any longer, we would need to
get more food. There weren’t a lot of choices grub wise. I poured
myself a glass of milk, slapped together a couple of peanut butter
and jelly sandwiches, then food in hand, made my way back to the
living room.