Ether (15 page)

            That
thought makes my hand spasm on the door handle. I force myself to take a deep
breath in and let it out slowly. I’m as safe here as I am anywhere. I try to
open my mind up, the way I did when I was trying to sense Ephraim. I take
another deep breath, feeling the coolness of the night burn into my lungs with
a quick cold sting.

            On the
edges of my awareness there’s a tingling pull. It feels like afternoon sunlight.
I smile, momentarily reassured. Ephraim’s out there. I feel the connection
between us. It’s a cable stretching between us, binding us together. If I give
even the slightest tug on it, I have a feeling he’ll appear before me. Was I
able to sense him like this all along, or is this new? Right now he feels distant.
Maybe he’s aware of me but I doubt he can see or hear my surroundings. I’m
alone out here.

            I move so
my back is resting against the solid metal of the car, and let my mind drift
away from Ephraim’s brightness. The coldness of the metal seeps through my
pants and into my skin. It’s chilly but I felt safer with something against my
back. At least no one can sneak up behind me.

            I let my
mind wander, trying to sense the world around me. The surf is impossibly loud,
louder than it has ever sounded before. The wind screeches and howls through
the sea grass with terrible force. I shiver. My eyes tell me there is no
tempest swirling around me, but my ears pick up every thread of noise and
magnify it a thousand times. I start to pull back into myself; shrinking away
from the barrage of sounds when I hear a voice; clear, cold and all too close.

            “She’s
near. I can
feel
her.” A shock of recognition surges through me, Derrick. 
My stomach twists and glass shatters around me. The world is spinning out of
control. I can smell blood and burning. Through a haze of dark memories I hear
his voice again, “Never mind, I have her. Remember, we need her alive.”

            He
has
me? This wildly surging memory, reliving this horror is him, attacking me? No
way! I fight against the memory, invoking the one shining element of the crash,
Ephraim’s kind bright eyes. The roaring in my ears fades taking with it the
smell of blood. Slowly, too slowly, the world steadies and I can see clearly
into the dark again. Only now I know that there really are things lurking in
the shadows beyond my vision. How close are they now?

            My
instincts are screaming at me to get in the car and drive away but fear has made
my legs loose and spindly under me. Running probably isn’t going to be an
option.

So
I let my body do what it’s doing naturally. I freeze. I slow my breathing and
calm the urgent banging of my heart so I can hear into the night.  I hear the
shift of gravel crunching under someone’s weight behind the car.  A subtle
change in the air to my left announces another, and in the darkness, farther off,
a third body moves. There are three of them, not excellent odds but I do have some
things working in my favour; they think I’m frozen and helpless and they
probably can’t touch me without pain. No matter what; I’m going to put up one
hell of a fight.

            I hear a
foot grind heavily into the path and hold myself still, all my muscles tense. A
dark shape lunges out of the darkness. The blank whiteness of his face and the
round darkness of his eyes fill my vision. His hands stretch towards me. I duck
to the side and shoot my arm out, catching him around the throat.

            Power roars
down my arm, burning through my fingers with a bright blue light, like the
hottest part of a flame. I let the energy pour into him and push with it. His
eyes roll up in his head and his body goes limp.

            Two more Numina
are closing in on me. And these ones are huge. I spin away from the first set
of hands, digging my hands into his back as he barrels past me. A spurt of
energy arcs into him and takes out his knees.

            I try to
move quickly, dancing on my feet and trying for manoeuvrability but my abs
scream and my leg is stiff. I step just a second too slowly and arms close
around me, constricting.

            He crushes
my lungs until they feel like they’re going to pop like bubble wrap. The world
goes misty around the edges. I struggle in his arms, fighting to breathe and a
red hot burning terror tightens around me. 

           
Ephraim
.
I gasp feebly into the night. But there is only blackness, closing in on me.
And the panic starts to drift away leaving behind it calmness. So this is it,
third time’s the charm. I’m going to die, this time for sure.

            Which is
when I hear him laughing, out there in the darkness. Not evil, villain
laughter, but delighted, childlike laughter. Rich, sincere and chilling, since
it’s was my death that’s brought it on. A rage replaces the calm I’ve almost
given myself to. I’m not powerless. Ephraim’s power is still a part of me. I’m
damned if I’m let them take me.  

            I grab onto
the center of the power inside me, the part I’ve come to think of as Ephraim
and let it surge through me, pushing with everything I have. My arms burn with
it, then a scalding heat sizzles against my skin and still I push. I hear a
howl of pain and realize I’m screaming as energy engulfs my arms and fries my
skin. The Numina drops to the ground, rigid and smoking. His body gives off an
acrid burned meat and singed hair smell.

            I step over
him, in the direction of the laughter I hear in the darkness. “That all you
got?” I scream. “I roasted your little pets. I’m coming for you next Derrick.
You hear me? I’m coming for you!” It’s crazy to taunt him. Crazy to call him
out like this, but I’m done running and hiding.    My eyes shift to the charred
remains of the Numina I just- killed? Did I kill it? And if I’ve killed it, does
that mean I also killed an innocent boy? All the fire goes out of. I kneel next
to the two I dropped. They both have a pulse and their skin is warm and pink
but their eyes are open, staring into the night as empty as death. I haven’t saved
them at all; I’ve as good as killed them. The horror of it starts to close in
on me.

            I bolt to
my feet, fumbling with the car handle. I fling the door open and leap inside,
locking it quickly behind me. And then I do what I should have done in the first
place; I drive.

            I don’t get
far before the shaking starts. The trembling starts in my fingers and races
along my body until it feels like I will shake myself apart. The sobs take my
breath away and fog my vision up, but I force myself to keep driving. I drive
until the car is skimming through warm pools of street light, along the
friendly neighbourhood roads I know and then I pull the car over again. When I
open the door, I practically fall out into the road. I half walk, half crawl
over to the grass. On my knees in the grass I retch, a warm tumble of squishy
liquid pouring out of my mouth. I thought I’d be a hero tonight, and instead, I
am a killer.

            The thought
brings on more heaving. “Ephraim,” I whimper. I’m sick with what I’ve done, sick
with everything that’s happened, and needing him all the more because of it.
“Ephraim. Ephraim. Ephraim.” I keep saying the words over and over to myself, a
soft little chant. It’s lost all meaning and just became a soothing jumble of
sounds. Something to say along with my sobs. “Ephraim, Ephraim, Ephraim…”

Chapter 10: Recovery

            “Becks.”

            And then he’s
there. Warm, real, kneeling over me. The whole night shimmers with his warmth,
and the darkness brightens around him. “Ephraim. Ephraim. Ephraim.” I keep
whispering. I can’t stop. The tears and his name are all tangled together.

            “I’m here
Becks. I’m here,” he says softly, tenderly. His arms wrap around me, lifting me
off my knees and swinging me up into his arms. Warmth settles around me, it’s
like being tucked under a heavy blanket near a crackling fire.

            Even tucked
against his chest, a hiccupy sob shudders out of me. “I ki-killed them,” I cry.

            Ephraim
shushes me. His arms hold me a little more tightly against him, as if that can
chase away the pain of what I’ve done.

            But as good
as it is to be in his arms, I don’t want to be consoled. “I killed them.” My
voice is edged with hysteria.

            “Shh,
Becks,” he soothes. He tilts my head, so I meet his eyes. His eyes are all
golden sunlight and steadiness. He smiles down at me. “Everything’s alright.
I’ve got you.”

            “Everything’s
alright,” I repeat numbly. And then that anaesthetizing comfort settles over
me. I am floating and warm again.

            His smile
deepens. “Good Becks.”

            I’m pretty
sure he drives me back to Justin’s, although something about that doesn’t
really make sense to me. I’ve never seen Ephraim do something as mundane as
driving a car. As I push at the memory another one ripples beneath it. Maybe I
also remember struggling to my feet and climbing back into the car. I was too
out of it to drive myself. Could Ephraim have driven
through
me? It’s a confusing
blur of partial memories. And then I’m in his arms again, even more helplessly
dazed. The world around me is just a swirl of muted colours and sounds. Is it
shock, or is Ephraim doing this?

            Justin meets
us at the door. If Ephraim is an oasis of calm, Justin is a turmoil of emotions.
Fear, concern and anger rolls across his face like rapidly changing seasons. He
settles into a mixture of concern and stormy anger, the spring of emotional
seasons. Tempest and tenderness. He fires off questions at Ephraim, who deflects
them. And then Justin bends over me.

            His fingers
brush across my face and a little cool shiver races down my body. Some of the
haze clears away and my vision sharpens. And with that sharper sense, the first
shocking sense of pain rips up my arms. I give a little gasp. He looks down at
my arms, I haven’t really looked at them yet, but judging from the pain, I don’t
want to. “Oh Becka, what did you do?”

            What did I
do? I’d done all kinds of stupid, reckless, out of character things and almost
been killed in the process but I just say, “Defended myself.” It was violent
and awful but it is the truth.

            Ephraim sets
me down on the edge of Justin’s bed. For the second time in one night I am at
the mercy Justin’s first aid training. He gets scissors and cuts away the
sleeves of his sweatshirt, peeling them slowly away from the skin of my arms.

            His hands are
steady and careful but he can’t help but brush my skin as he works. And each
time he touches me, my head feels a little clearer. He’s brushing away
Ephraim’s fogging calm. Ephraim stands a few feet away watching. His voice is
gentle and lilting, reminding me of the tone one uses to loll a child to sleep.
As he speaks the world became misty again. It’s a strange balancing act, a pinch
of clarity and a brush of dreaming. “You didn’t kill them Becks, the hosts. If
there had been anything left to save, you would have.”

            “You
weren’t there. I killed them Ephraim.” I try to challenge him, locking my eyes
on his, but the fight goes out of my voice as soon as I meet his eyes.

            “You didn’t
kill those kids because there was nothing left to kill.”

            I jerk upright,
inadvertently jarring Justin and my arms, which I’m not going to look at, “You
saw? And you just left me out there by myself?” I blurt out.

            “Absolutely
not. Never. I was frantic to reach you but I couldn’t. I told you, the Numina
repel Ethereals. ” His voice is hot and ragged. Full of emotions I’ve never
heard from him before.

            Justin
finally peels the last of his sweater away from my arms. He is trying to clean
the wounds with a cold cloth that sends icy swells of agony through me. I look
down at his hands, before I can stop myself. My arms look like burned meat.
They’re red, bloodied and skinless. A lump of bile rises in my throat. It’s totally
the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, and it’s my body. Gross.

            I look
quickly away and catch Justin’s look. A mixture of horror and sympathy. He gives
me a quick, reassuring grimace. “It’s not as bad as it looks. It’s just the top
layers of skin, plus you’ve still got that super human healing thing working
for you, right?”

            I nod,
gritting my teeth. “What exactly does nothing left to kill mean Ephraim?” I
ask, looking over Justin’s shoulder.

            “It means
that it doesn’t take long for the Numina to subsume a human’s consciousness and
once they have control, the human’s personality dissipates. It can’t be
returned once the Numina is driven out; the body is just an empty shell.”

            I’m not sure
I understood his answer but Justin must because he goes very still and turns to
face Ephraim slowly. “Are you saying that the Numina don’t just possess their
hosts, they destroy them?” There’s a nasty edge to his voice, making him sound
dangerous and angry.

            Ephraim dips
his head. “It isn’t possible for two souls to share one body for long. That’s
why Becka can drive them out. At first, while they’re struggling with the human
consciousness, their power is totally occupied with that internal battle.”

            “And just
how long does this take? Is Matt already dead then? Does he have a few more
hours, or days? Were you even going to tell us that time was running out for
him?” Justin snaps.

            Ephraim shakes
his head, “I wasn’t going to tell you. There wasn’t anything to tell, I really
don’t know how long he has. It varies depending on the strength of an
individual’s will. The Numina tend to target weak minded followers who fall
within hours. After that point, dispelling them is futile and reckless. The
human’s spirit is gone and the Numina simply take another body. It’s probably
already too late for Matt. But it’s not too late for you. I can still protect
you.”

            He says the
last few words directly to me. The amber of his eyes making me strain towards
him. I hear Justin growl softly, under his breath. His hands move gently around
my arms, wrapping a thin, light layer of gauze over them. I sigh with relief.
The pain is still there, but it’s infinitely better not to be able to see the
carnage. With the gore covered it’s easy to let myself think the skin is
starting to grow back and heal already. After all, what had Matt said? I’m not
really human anymore.

            I take a
deep breath. “Matt’s not weak. He’s not dead; he wouldn’t just give in like
that. He’ll fight like hell, I know it; which is why we’re going to find him
and drive that thing out. And then we’re going to end all this at the source.” I
try to stand but Justin immediately puts his hands on my shoulders. He holds me
down with only the lightest of touches, but it’s more than I can press against.
I sag back down.

            “Hey hero,
we tried that already. He’s nowhere to be found. He’s not home, not at school
and Ephraim can’t seem to track him. I’m all for the dramatic rescue but he’s
not exactly a damsel in distress waiting around to be saved.”

            Ephraim
watches stoically, as Justin and I lock horns. “You need to rest Becks. Your
injuries will heal, but they won’t heal here. I have to take you into the
Ether, which means sleep.” His voice is steady and soft, growing softer and
heavier with every word. His eyes are huge golden disks that blaze against my
eyes like the sun shining against closed eyelids on a bright summer day. Before
I even realize I have closed my eyes, his light is filling my world. The light
becomes brighter and brighter until all I see is whiteness.

            And I sleep,
but it’s an artificial peace. I have the sensation of being held in this bright
white void without feeling the peace, or the surrender that comes with sleep.
From the emptiness beyond I can hear voices, Ephraim and Justin speaking over
me. I strain toward them, brushing away milky strands, like I’m pushing
curtains back from a window. I press against the invisible glass, trying to
make out what they’re saying.

            “I’m
grateful that you saved her, but I don’t buy any of that soul mate crap you’re
feeding her. She’s not your soul mate. She’s not yours at all.” Justin’s voice is
tense, jealous even.

            Ephraim’s voice
is kinder when he answers. “Your belief is not in question. She and I are
linked. We are one. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

            “That
doesn’t mean you get to have her. What kind of life can you offer her? A
lifetime of phantom stalking?”

            “You’re
offering her a lifetime? Really? How many relationships begun at sixteen last a
lifetime? Even
if
she loves you now, how long can that last? You and I
are not competing for her. Ultimately, we belong to each other. I have the
luxury of time. You love her? Good, feel free to make her as happy as can. I
doubt it will be enough.”

            I try to push
myself through the remaining mist. I want to call out to them, to stop them
from bickering over me. I strain towards them. Abruptly the last tendrils of
mist part and I am standing inside Justin’s room. But the room looks different,
it’s faded and indistinct. I can’t make out the details of the furniture, or
even Justin’s face. My own body is lying on Justin’s bed. I seem smaller and
more delicate than I think of myself, and childlike. Only Ephraim is vivid. I
see him with burning clarity like he is a light shining in the dimness. Every
fleck of colour in his eyes stands out, every rustle of his hair, every breath.
It isn’t that I can see nothing else, just that nothing else holds the same
engrossing pull. Is this how Ephraim sees me? A bright spark in an indistinct
world?

I
squint at Justin. He’s washed out and distant so it’s difficult to really see
him but he seems defensive. His feet are wide apart, his hands are balled into
fists and tension runs along every line of his body. Ephraim, beautiful bright
Ephraim, is leaning casually against Justin’s desk, hands in his pockets,
looking relaxed and peaceful except for the stubborn set of his jaw. Abruptly he
turns his head, looking directly into my eyes. “Becks,” he chides, “You need
the rest, please try to stay in the ether.”

            When I push
closer towards him, trying to step into the scene and be with him. Ephraim just
shakes his head and smiles. He holds out a hand and steps towards me, “Fine,
I’ll come and keep you company,” he steps into the whiteness around me and the
image of Justin’s room fades away entirely. The moment his fingers touch mine I
feel a surge of warmth. The whiteness starts to fill in with colour and the
scent of spring flowers waft in on a breeze as it tickles across my nose.
“You’re learning quickly, but since you’re in no condition for astral projection,”
he says sweetly, “I have a nice, restful dream setting we can visit. How about
it?” It’s a question but he already knows my answer. The truth is when I’m this
close to him, I just can’t say no. There’s no resisting him.

That was the last
thought I remember, and the first.
There is no resisting him
. I’m under
his sway, which is fine because Ephraim is sweet and gentle and well meaning,
but not all the ethereals are like Ephraim. The question that’s been bothering
me over and over again since the accident is
why.
Not why we crashed,
but why I got into a car with a boy I barely knew for a ride home from a party
when I was supposed to go home with Matt and Justin? It was crazy and reckless
and totally not like me. Which reminds me not just a little of heading out to
the bluff by myself, and taking off on my own when I first got the car. There’s
only one sickening, horrifying answer; I’m under Derrick’s sway too. He has me,
just like he said he did. Maybe he can even summon me right now, just call me
and I’ll slip out of the house and make way to him, all eagerness to be
sacrificed. How’s that for terrifying?

When I finally open my
eyes the light filtering into Justin’s room is the pale blue of predawn. His
room is bathed in cool light. Justin’s lying slung out on the floor, his limbs
sprawled wide, a blanket knotted around his legs. The outward signs of a restless
night. Instinctively I reach for him, and then grunt with the soreness of my
body. The muscles along my stomach ache; my arms are stiff and tender.  I grunt
again in surprise. Is that it? Stiff and sore? After the night I had yesterday?
Slowly I peel away the edge of the bandage on my arm; the skin underneath looks
delicate. It’s all shiny and pink, like a newly healed scar, but there isn’t a
trace of blood left.