Forsaken (The Netherworlde Series) (26 page)

“Sam,” he whispered. She kissed him, soft, repetitious butterfly brushes against his lips with her own, until he melted against her, tangling his hands in her hair and pulling her near. He kissed her hungrily, wanting this—wanting
her
—so badly, in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

“Okay, then,” Mei said loudly. “I can see you two have some catching up to do.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing out the motel room door. “I think I’m just going to…you know, take a walk for a while. Get some air. Clear my head and all that.”

Jason looked over Sam’s shoulder at her. “Thanks, Mei,” he said softly.

She didn’t answer, but she dropped him a wink and a smile as she stepped backward out the door, swinging it quietly shut behind her.

****

“Oh, God, I thought I’d never see you again,” Sam whispered. “I thought I’d lost you, that I…I’d never have the chance…”

She drew back, her tears spilling, then caught his face between her hands and kissed him fiercely, deeply. He opened his mouth, feeling the familiar, sweet, soft comfort of her lips against his, tasting the salty tang of her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “Jason, please, I’m so sorry for the awful things I said. I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

“I know,” he said, stroking her hair back from her face. “It’s all right, Sam.”

“I love you,” she said, looking up at him, tearful. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, that I told you to leave. I didn’t want that…didn’t mean it…”

“I know.” He kissed her gently.

“I love you,” she whispered, trembling in his arms.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing her again, deeply this time, pulling her slender body tightly against him, holding her close. After a long moment, they drew apart, and he took her by the hands, leading her with him to the bed. They sat together, their bodies canted to face each other, their knees touching, their fingers still interlaced.

“I want you to come back with me,” Sam said. “Back home, Jason. Today. Right now.”

He wanted to believe that. God, how he wished that were true. “I can’t,” he whispered.

Even though Mei had left them alone, Sam cut her eyes toward the motel room door, as if expecting to find her standing there, eavesdropping. “Listen to me,” she urged, tightening her grasp on his hands. When she looked to him again, her dark eyes were round and filled with desperate urgency. “Whatever happened to you…whatever’s still happening, we can work it out. We can face it together. I’ll call Bear…”

“No, Sam.” Jason shook his head.

“Talk to him, Jason. Tell him what’s going on. He can help you. I’ll stand by you a hundred percent, I swear it. We can fix this. I know we can.”

Sam studied him a moment, still frowning, then with a sigh said, “Pretty much exactly what you told. The same crazy story. Only she said she’s seen it, this…thing inside of you, whatever it’s called.”

“An Eidolon,” he supplied gently.

“She said the two of you were attacked,” Sam said.

“But you don’t believe her,” he said, filling in the blanks.
Just like you don’t believe me.

“What am I supposed to think, Jason?” Sam exclaimed, drawing her hands away from him now and standing up. “If this thing is real—if you could show it to Mei, then you can show it to me too. So show it to me now. Prove it to me. Let me see.”

Jason’s eyes flew wide. “What?” Shaking his head, he rose to his feet. “No, Sam. You don’t…”

“What?” she cut in. “Want to see it? Yes, Jason, I do. I want to see this thing inside of you, this shadow demon you keep talking about.” Her voice grew strained, her eyes tearful, and she looked up at him, pleading. “If it’s real, then show it to me.”

“It doesn’t really work like that,” he began clumsily. He’d been able to summon the Eidolon the night before and then repress it again, but only because there’d been something to entice it—Mei’s craving for heroin. Without that kind of stimulation, he didn’t know if he could coax the Eidolon out. And all at once, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to.
Not with Sam here. I don’t want her to see me like that.
“It needs negative energy to draw it out,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Fear, I guess? Anger. Hate. Pain. It feeds on those things…like a vampire, Mei thinks.” He looked into Sam’s eyes.
And I don’t want you to be afraid of me, Sam.

She met his gaze evenly. “I want to see it.”

“Sam…” he began in protest.

“Please.” Reaching out, she caught his hand. Her grasp was tight, urgent. “I want to help you, Jason. I want to believe you. Please,” she said again. “I need to see it.”

After a long, reluctant moment, he sighed heavily. “All right,” he whispered, nodding. Because whether he wanted it or not, she
was
afraid—maybe not of him, but of the prospect of seeing the Eidolon for herself, of realizing that everything she’d clung to, her beliefs and faith in heaven, hell, even God himself, might come completely unhinged at the sight of it. She was afraid, and the Eidolon had already sensed this, already started stirring within him, that terrible coldness seeping through his body.

He stood, drawing his hands away from her. “Stay here,” he instructed as he crossed to the far corner of the room. Turning around, pressing his back against the wall, he faced her. “Don’t move.”

“You’re doing it now?” she asked, eyes widening.

He nodded. “Don’t move,” he said again.

When the Eidolon took hold, he watched a thin veil of shadow drape over everything within his line of sight. Sam saw it too, the change in his eyes as darkness filled them. She shrank back reflexively, her breath caught in a startled gasp. “Oh my God!”

That surge of fright fueled the Eidolon, causing Jason’s body to react in tandem with it, his heart racing, suddenly, eagerly.

“Don’t move,” he warned, and the Eidolon raced across the floor between them, darting tendrils of shadow flowing like water, bridging the narrow margin of space between the corner and the bed.

Sam saw it too, and despite his admonition, she drew her legs up, her feet from the floor and out of its path in instinctive alarm. “What is that?” She gasped, scrambling across the mattress, nearly tumbling onto her ass off the opposite side. “Oh my God, Jason,
what the hell is that?
”

“Sam!” Jason immediately tried to recall the Eidolon, but she was frightened, nearly panicked, and her fear had excited it. It was hungry, apparently, and didn’t want to be restrained. Whipping out in fast-moving branches, it slid under the bed, cut a ragged path around it, and clambered over the top in spindly, rootlike fingers.

“Oh, God,” Sam cried, stumbling away from the bed, backpedalling toward the bathroom. “Turn it off now. Turn it off!”

Her voice grew shrill with alarm and she stared at him wide-eyed, desperate, pleading. Balling his hands into fists, straining with everything he had, Jason shut his eyes and tried to will the Eidolon back into submission.

Back off now,
he thought, teeth gritted as he felt it resist.
Back off, I said. You can’t have her. Not Sam. You just back…the fuck…off!

With a hoarse cry, he threw his head back, and in that moment, the Eidolon whipped backward toward him, the spread of its shadowy circumference recoiling, its icy cognizance within him abruptly fading. He forced its retreat, tamping it down within him again, watching as the dim haze of its darkness disappeared from his eyes, returning the room to its customary shades of light and shadow.

Stumbling, he hit the wall with his shoulder and doubled over, gasping for breath. When he looked up, he found Sam still cowering near the bathroom door, her eyes enormous, her face drained to ashen.

“Is it gone?” she whispered, and he nodded.

“It’s all right now.” He moved toward her but stopped when she shied back. “I’m sorry,” he said, aghast and ashamed. “It got excited when you moved… Your fear…”

He went to her, kneeling in front of her, and with a choked sob, she fell against him, locking her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” she gasped, shuddering. “Oh…oh God, Jason, I’m so sorry!”

He smiled sadly, turning his head to kiss her hair. “It’s all right. I don’t blame you. I’ve had a hell of a time trying to believe it myself.”

Tearful, she looked up at him. “It’s still inside you, isn’t it? The Eidolon—it’s in you all the time?”

“Yes,” he said, and with a miserable cry, she clutched him fiercely. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have let it hurt you, Sam, I swear.”

“We’ll get it out,” she whispered in promise. “Oh, God, Jason, we’ll find a way somehow and we’ll get it out of you.”

****

Saint Stephen Martyr was one of the city’s oldest historical landmarks, built in the Gothic architectural style in the mid-1800s. Its red brick bell tower stood in antiquated contrast to the modern-day skyscrapers and buildings surrounding it.

“Did he say where he’d be?” Mei asked when they arrived at the close-knit landscaped campus. They’d ridden streetcars most of the way, traveling the rest on foot.

“The parish house,” Jason replied.

Before they’d left for the streetcar depot, he’d caught her trying to leave.

“Hey.” He’d snagged her by the sleeve just as she tried to duck around the building’s exterior corner and head for the street. Sam had still been inside the motel room, using the bathroom. “Hold up. We’re not ready to go yet.”

She’d shrugged, hands crammed down in her coat pockets, her shoulders hunched against the wind. “Yeah, well, you know, three’s a crowd, so I just figured I’d take off.”

Bewildered, Jason frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Another shrug. “My
zu mu
sent me money, remember? I’m going to go and pick it up, do like you said—buy a bus ticket. Maybe not for home, but back east, anyway. I sure can’t hang around here for long.” She managed a smirk. “I’d say it’s a safe bet I’m not welcome around Liang and his gang anymore. And that’s nothing compared to what J-Dog’s going to do if he ever finds me again. I’ve got a cousin in Houston. Maybe she could put me up for a while.”

“Then what?”

She fished her cigarettes out of her pocket, popped one into her mouth. “I don’t know.” As she lit her smoke, she glanced at him. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Don’t be a douche bag, Jason. I brought your girlfriend to you. I figured that would make you happy.”

“It does, but…”

“I figured it made things even between us. You know,
quid quid quo.
”

““
Quid
pro
quo.”
”

“Whatever. Look, you don’t need me anymore, that’s all I’m getting at.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. “All that bullshit you told me before, about how you’re not good enough for her and how she’s better off with that doctor—you’re wrong. And even if you weren’t, it still wouldn’t matter, because you’re in love with her. And she’s in love with
you.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure this shit out. You two belong together. Me? I’m just in the way.”

“No, you’re not.” She’d moved to walk away again, but he ducked in front of her, blocking her path. “Will you stop for a minute and listen to me?”

Surly, she looked up at him, tapping her foot impatiently, taking quick, smart drags off her cigarette.

“I
do
need you,” he said, and she rolled her eyes. “I do, Mei. You believed me when no one else would—not even Sam. You believed
in
me. Right?” When she shrugged, glancing away, he cocked his head until he attracted her gaze again, drawing a reluctant smile from her. “Right?”

“Right.” She gave him a shove, but still smiled. “Whatever.”

“I’ll never forget that.” Hooking his fingertips beneath her chin, he made her look up at him. “You’re my friend, Mei. My best friend.”

She blinked at him, visibly moved; then a slight crimp formed between her brows, and she slapped his hand playfully away from her face. “You’re so full of shit,” she said, laughing as he caught her against the crook of his elbow, drawing her against him in a hug. “Fine. I’ll stay. But you’re buying me breakfast.”

He’d laughed, kissing the crown of her hair. “Deal.”

“You told me Father Darrow’s like you,” Sam said as the three of them approached the rectory together. “Does that mean he has one, too? An Eidolon?”

“I don’t know,” Jason admitted. “But he knows something about it. That much is sure. Hopefully he can give us some answers.”

A large annex had been built adjacent to the church, housing a shelter for indigent men, along with a soup kitchen and thrift store. The rectory, a nondescript three-story brick home that, like the church, looked oddly out of place among its contemporary surroundings, had been built behind the church, accessible through a small landscaped courtyard. The church offices were located on the first floor, while small apartments for the parish clergymen were on the second and third stories. The front door to the parish house was unlocked and a receptionist, an older, matronly woman whose name, according to the plate atop her desk, was Marilyn Czerwinski, looked up from her circa-1960’s Steelcase desk.

“May I help you?” She said this with an apprehensive smile, cutting uncertain glances between Jason, Sam and Mei. After studying them for a moment—and Sam in particular—her expression brightened. “Miss Young? I didn’t recognize you at first. How nice to see you again!”