Authors: Maria Rachel Hooley
Another fist struck his
left cheek. Pain exploded within Griffin, but he knew it wasn’t from the
strike. No, he remembered this sort of pain: the
dybbuk
had connected with
him and was draining his strength. Griffin had to break contact or he’d be on
the ground in seconds.
He jerked back, grimacing,
and thankfully it had been enough to get him out of reach.
In the corner, he spotted
Celia frantically trying to keep the others busy. In addition to the original
two, Griffin noted that a third had joined the fight, making him wonder how she
was going to hold them all off. He could barely manage the one in front of
him, and even though he knew she was an angel, he also knew she had her limits.
Three against one were horrible odds, even with her supernatural powers.
One of them—a woman in
her thirties—suddenly fell to the floor, unmoving. Emboldened by Celia’s
success, he took another swipe. Another miss.
His feeble attempt at
attacking the
dybbuk
brought him close, and he realized its host was a
teenage boy, probably not much younger than Lizzie. Granted, he was tall and
athletic, which made him seem older than he was, but Griffin recognized he was
probably about fifteen at most—fifteen and caught up in a supernatural war he
probably knew nothing about—had no idea he might die if things went south.
Yes, they were trying to save the hosts, but that didn’t mean they’d live.
Maybe none of them would.
The boy looked at the sword
and cocked his head to one side in an almost animalistic gesture. His lips
split into a grin. Obviously, the
dybbuk
might value its host body, but
besides the benefits it offered, benefits he could always find in another body,
which meant it had a definite advantage.
Determined, Griffin
reared his arm back again, preparing to take another swing, when suddenly he
felt an earth-shattered pain seize his back. It was so sharp and jarring he
couldn’t inhale, not without making the small stabbing pain feel that much more
intense.
Although he tried to call
out, he found the sound caught and died in his throat, and he knew it would’ve
been pointless even if Celia had heard him because she had two of her own
problems to contend with—problems that seemed to be only getting worse.
He felt the painful heat
centered in the middle of his back, probably where a
dybbuk
had settled
his hand, keeping him paralyzed in agony. It was all he could do just to
inhale and exhale.
The
dybbuk
in
front of him, still smiling maniacally, stepped toward him and batted at his
hand so that the sword fell uselessly to the floor. He tried to hold onto it,
but his grip was weak, and there was nothing he could do.
Then, as Griffin looked
into the eyes of a human, sans the humanity that should have been there, he
realized just how much danger he’d found himself in and wanted nothing more
than just to get through this madness. In those eyes, Griffin saw his own
reflection and the fear written in his expression. He felt he had no choice,
and he’d resigned himself to suffering the pain. Still, even with such
resignation, he wasn’t prepared for another round of agony coursing through him
as the second
dybbuk
set his hand on Griffin’s chest. For a second,
there was nothing. Then the pain suddenly doubled, which was when Griffin lost
control and started to scream. He wanted to push the pain back into a box and
get it out of his sight, but he didn’t have that kind of strength. It was too
intense, too scathing, and before he’d realized anything else, he knew that he
was about to lose control of the rest of his body. His left knee bowed first
and then bent, plunging him toward the floor, and it wasn’t the floor he’d
expected, either. No, this floor was covered with debris and splintered
furniture that jabbed him as he landed, adding to the pain he already felt.
He had to fight back. He
just had to.
In spite of the pain,
Griffin forced himself to get up. Suddenly more pain exploded in his back,
where the
dybbuk
now touched him. He almost buckled beneath agony that
felt never-ending, but he knew he couldn’t.
The
dybbuk
pushed harder;
the pain now grew into forks of lightning, stabbing him repeatedly. His body
trembled violently, not as much because of the pain but rather that all of him
felt wobbly and out of control, as though no matter what he might try to make
it do, he wasn’t sure it would comply. It took all he had just to stay upright
and keep moving. The world around him started to spin, and when Griffin
suddenly whirled to face the
dybbuk
at his back, it only made his vision
that much more unsettled and violent.
The
dybbuk
which
was now in front of him suddenly had two other reflections on either side of
her, distorting his vision even more. Which one was the
dybbuk
, he
wondered, and guessed it had to be the one in the middle. It only made sense.
Blinking a couple of
times, Griffin tried to clear his vision and clearly see the host body as she
stood before him, the flashes of sunlight basting a surreal glow to her long,
blonde hair as the wind from the smashed windows caught it and spun heatedly
around them, tousling her hair. Her blue eyes seemed to glow unnaturally,
making her seem darker than what he’d expected, something far below a human and
much more dangerous.
As Griffin stared at her,
the whole world seemed to slow, and Griffin watched the
dybbuk
reaching
toward his chest yet again, trying to make contact so she could take him down.
He couldn’t let her do that. While he knew he didn’t have much energy left, he
did have one good swing in him, and that would have to be enough because he
wasn’t sure he could manage more, considering the way he felt.
Gripping the sword in
both hands, he gave a final swing, and this time, he didn’t miss. No, the
blade made contact with the
dybbuk
’s forearms as she tried to block it,
and that bought Griffin a moment of peace, at least until she felt the metal
touch her skin, burning.
The
dybbuk
emitted
an unholy hiss, something between that of a cat and a snake as she threw her
body backward, desperate to escape. Her eyes bulged with fear and pain,
something that would have bolstered Griffin’s courage if he hadn’t had another
beast at his backside, the pain digging in like he couldn’t believe. Every
part of him wanted to flee, but he couldn’t. He refused. Not without Lizzie.
She’d been his only reason for coming, and he wasn’t going to leave without
her.
It felt like nails punched
through his skin, and he realized the other
dybbuk
was almost on top of
him, staking possession in him. Was it trying to keep him still so that it
could possess him? He didn’t know and didn’t plan to find out. He had deal
with the one right in front of him to raise the odds more in his favor. He
ignored the beast grabbing his shoulder and the way his flesh ached from the
dybbuk
’s
touch. His arm burned with agony, but he focused on the
dybbuk
he could
see, all the while slicing blindly just to keep her hands away from him. He
could semi-function with one of them hurting him. He didn’t think he could
manage two.
Even though he was doing
a pretty good job keeping her at bay, she managed to get one of her hands in
amid the violent swings and latched onto his face, right near his chin. The
pain was electric and excruciating. The air went out of his lungs, and he
couldn’t think.
The effect of it was
clear in the frantic waving of his sword, hardly on target and hardly powered
with much fight. In effect, he was probably just waving, but that was all he
could do. Still, something he did must have gone right as the blade landed just
at her throat, halting her fight.
Staring at her face, he
saw her eyes widen in shock, luminous with the pain the sword had brought her,
pain she couldn’t escape. Clearly she hadn’t expected it, and he managed to
keep the sword in place until she stopped struggling against him and finally
passed out, her head lolling to one side. He would’ve kept it there longer had
the pain at his back, which had blazed on low this whole time, not suddenly
exploded, setting fire to every muscle in his body, and when his fingers
twitched, he lost his grip on the sword. It tumbled uselessly to the floor
where the carpet muffled the sound.
He glanced over his
shoulder and found the other
dybbuk
’s eyes glowing unnaturally in the
darkness. Far away, he heard Celia thrashing around, still trying to fight off
the other
dybbuks
. Part of him wondered if she would be able. Then the
blackness and pain engulfed him, stealing him away.
Chapter
Fourteen
“Elizabeth?” Lev
whispered, afraid to call too loudly lest she disappear forever. He took a
couple of steps forward, his mind still shocked by what was right in front of
him.
She was alive.
“Can you hear me?” he
asked, louder this time. He was almost within arm’s reach when he saw her chin
rise slowly, the movement so slight it was almost imperceptible.
In the back of Lev’s
mind, he heard warning bells going off. Why wasn’t she moving? Didn’t she
care that everything was falling apart around her and that all of them had
risked everything coming here? How could she seem so cold and removed from it
all?
So many questions, and she
seemed almost oblivious to everything around her.
Unable to quiet the
questions or resolve the panic threatening to consume him, Lev did the only
thing he knew would make him feel better: he knelt and slid his fingers beneath
her chin so he could look at her. Her eyes would tell him everything was going
to be all right.
His index finger grazed
her chin, and her hand jerked out, faster than Elizabeth had ever moved, and
with her palm flat, she grabbed him.
“What are you doing?”
This time, when he looked
at her, their eyes met. Hers were a dark blue, the color of the sky during a
storm, and while her features bore a familiar delicacy, he clearly realized
that whomever this girl might be, she wasn’t Elizabeth.
In realization, the pit
of his stomach dropped, and for a few seconds he couldn’t move. His delay
proved to be a mistake. The girl who wasn’t Lizzie sprang before he’d fully
registered the she’d moved, and before he could react, she was on him, one knee
buried in his chest, pinning him and stealing the breath from his lungs.
She hissed and reached
out, intent on crippling him with pain, and while he wasn’t prepared,
adrenaline surged through him nonetheless, and he was angry—angry that he had
to be here and, more important, that this girl wasn’t Elizabeth and that they
were probably no closer to finding her.
He managed to throw her
off—to get out from beneath her—and tried to reach for his sword, but it had
flown too far, so he had no choice but to try to hold her.
“Where’s Elizabeth?” he growled,
gripping her wrists and pinning her to the ground.
The girl hissed again—a runnel
of spittle dripping down the corner of her mouth. She appeared feral and
angry, probably from their invasion into her home. She emitted a snarl that he
wouldn’t normally have thought about, but more of her super human strength
surged through her, and she thrust him back.
He needed the sword.
Since she wore those clothes, she had to know, didn’t she? And he was going to
get it out of her.
Lev didn’t hesitate as he
lunged, thinking he could deal with the
dybbuk
quickly enough. He’d
barely touched the grip when he discovered just how wrong he’d been.
White hot pain burned
through him, and his fingers spasmed, closing into fists so tightly his short
nails cut into his palms. Despite that, he kept staring at the sword,
desperate to get it, but his whole body seemed beyond his control. Instead, his
body obeyed a new master—pain.
With each passing second,
the agony grew. It was all Lev could do to keep his eyes open and still try
for the sword. Any other movement was impossible. His body burned until he
thought he was going to explode, and if he’d been able, he would’ve called for
help, but even that might not have saved him, considering Evan was still
fighting his own battles and probably couldn’t stop to help him. As usual, Lev
was on his own, and if something didn’t give, he knew he would.
Lev, you have to hang
in there.
Evan’s voice filled his head.
Riley’s coming as fast as he
can. He’ll be here soon.
Of course he will,
Lev thought, but such realization
brought him no comfort. The last thing he wanted was to be rescued by that
Neanderthal. If that happened, there was no way Riley would ever let him live
it down. Besides, if he let the pain win, that would mean he was giving up, and
he couldn’t abide that. Lev forced open his eyes. A wave a nausea washed over
him, and he began to vomit.
He had no idea of how
much time he spent throwing up, only that the burning sensation ended, and so
had the sounds of Evan scuffling. There came a whisper—and suddenly he saw his
father leaning over him.
“Are you all right?” Evan
asked. Evan was already examining him, trying to find wounds that needed
tending.
“Peachy,” Lev said
weakly. His whole body ached.
At first, Lev’s vision
wasn’t particularly clear, but he squinted, struggling to find the girl who’d
attacked him. She owed him answers, and she was going to pay up.
Panting, he struggled to
sit up, avoiding his father’s watchful stare. He already knew Evan would tell
him he was moving too fast and could hurt himself, but Lev didn’t care. If
that woman had answers, he wanted them, and the only way he’d get them was to
push—hard and fast.
Lev started to stand, which
was where Evan finally voiced an objection.
“I don’t think that’s a
good idea.”
“I can’t just lie here
all day, especially not with other
dybbuks
roaming around.”
Lev didn’t wait for his
father to agree with him—he knew that wasn’t going to happen—so he might just as
well move things along. By the time he’d finally managed to get to his feet, latching
onto an overturned desk in the process and avoiding Evan’s outstretched hand, at
least his muscles had stopped spasming. Granted, he still felt nauseated, but it
beat the alternative. The good part of him taking so long to get to his feet
was that his vision came into focus, and he could see the teenage host he’d
mistaken for Elizabeth.
Lev didn’t know if it
were because the previous attack had proven without a shadow of a doubt that
she wasn’t Elizabeth or now that he stared at her with his eyes instead of with
his heart so he could see what was really there as opposed to what he wanted to
be there, but he realized she didn’t look nearly as familiar as he’d first
thought. Yes, there were similarities—long dark hair, devastating almond-shaped
eyes, and dark skin. Still, even with features which so reminiscent of
Elizabeth’s, enough differences gave him pause…and inflamed him.
Fueled by that rage, he
lumbered over to the girl who was now sitting upright, dazed, and before anyone
could stop him, he swooped low and grabbed the girl’s shoulders in a stony
grip.
“Where is she?” he
demanded.
“Wh-who?” she stammered,
trying to shrink away. Her wide eyes seemed filled with his reflection, and
she trembled in his grip.
“The girl who owns these
clothes. Where is she?” He forced her to stand, both of them nearly falling
in the process. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.” He shook her, thinking that
might persuade her to give him what he wanted.
“This isn’t your place.”
Riley stepped close, glowering. “Now take your hands off of her before I cut
them away.”
“Why don’t you mind your
own business?” Lev snapped, his gaze still fixed on the girl. She trembled,
eyes downcast. “Because as soon as she tells me what I want to know, I’ll be
done with her.”
“I don’t know what you
want me to tell you,” she managed. “I don’t know who Elizabeth is or even how
I got here.”
“Liar.” Lev gripped harder,
intent on slamming her against the nearby wall, but Riley gripped his wrist and
jerked so Lev couldn’t maintain his hold.
“She can’t tell you what
you want to hear. She’s a host, not a
dybbuk
. Likely, she doesn’t
remember anything that happened after the
dybbuks
took her.” Riley
stepped in front of the girl, blocking Lev’s reach. “And you need to cool down
before somebody gets hurt.”
“The only person who is
going to get hurt is you if you don’t get out of my way,” Lev seethed. Once
again, he wished he had his wings back. If he had, Riley would think twice
about starting something he couldn’t finish—and so would anyone else who
crossed Lev’s path.
Riley folded his arms
across his chest and remained where he was, waiting for Lev to do something,
not that he demonstrated any concern for whatever that something might be.
As Lev opened his mouth,
he felt his father grab his shoulder and pull him backwards. He wanted to argue,
but Evan shook his head, telling him to be quiet, and that’s when Lev really
understood just how much of an outsider he was.
Once Riley realized Lev
wasn’t going to challenge him, he spoke softly to the girl, probably reassuring
her that Lev’s attitude regarding her wasn’t in the majority. Of course he
would. He’d never met Elizabeth, and he’d probably never loved anyone the way
Lev had. How could he truly understand what was at stake and act accordingly
to do everything in his power to find her?
Still, Lev realized Riley
probably was right in one regard. In spite of how much Lev wanted to find
Elizabeth, this girl probably didn’t have the answers. Pushing her to remember
something she didn’t know was only going to cause a major rift among them.
“What now?” Evan asked, surveying
the room.
“We need to find Celia
and Griffin. The
dybbuks
have been dispatched, and this girl is the
only surviving host. Still, with any luck, I think I can get enough of a
reading off her to know where the other
dybbuks
might be. As Lev pointed
out, she’s wearing Elizabeth’s clothing, and if I can pinpoint where the other
dybbuks
are, we can find her.”
“Are there any more
dybbuks
?”
Evan asked.
“I don’t think so. Not
here anyway, not unless they are on Celia’s end of the building, which is a
possibility.”
“All right. Let’s go,”
Evan said, heading for the door.
“Let me go first. I think I have a better grasp of the
layout since I’ve seen more of the building than you.” He stepped in front of
Evan. “Just pull up the rear, okay?”
Evan nodded and gestured for the girl to fall in line after
Riley. Then Lev stepped into line. Finally, Evan followed.
Clearly, Riley hadn’t been kidding when he said he knew the
layout. Most of the other rooms or hallways they passed through had enough
light so Lev felt comfortable enough knowing what was ahead of him, or could at
least see it before it came out of nowhere.
What Lev didn’t anticipate, however, as he drew his hand
across his forehead and wiped away the sweat, was that the girl would weave,
almost as though she might faint. This left no choice but for him to grab her
waist and make sure she stood upright.
At the feel of his fingers, she gasped and jumped.
“It’s all right,” Lev said. “I’m not going to hurt you.
By now, Riley had turned to see what was going on, and the
girl stared at the ground, obviously embarrassed at having been caught during
such a moment of vulnerability.
“Is there a problem?” Riley asked, looking from the girl to
Lev, waiting on one of them to answer.
“I just got a little hot and light-headed,” she whispered,
once again averting her gaze like she were afraid one of them might actually
look into her eyes and see her soul.
“And have you recovered?” Riley asked softly. “Or do you
need another moment?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her shoulders sinking slightly.
Still, they could all tell she was shaking like mad.
“Then by all means, let’s keep moving,” Riley suggested going
back and striding effortlessly amid the debris and clutter which seemed to be
everywhere they went.
Even though Lev didn’t recognize the girl as Elizabeth
anymore, that didn’t mean her features didn’t have some kind of familiarity to
them, something he could neither place nor understand. Of course, perhaps his
mind was just spinning out of control, trying to make something out of
nothing. Since he couldn’t have Elizabeth, it was probably trying desperately
to latch onto something, so he tried as hard as he could just to let the
thought go, hoping he could focus on something that might make a difference for
him at some point.
Even so, he found himself watching her, wondering if she knew
the strength inside her that the
dybbuks
had harnessed for their own
ends. Probably not, as she appeared so weak and helpless, afraid of everything
around her. Still, there was no point dwelling on it.