Lost Soul (DarkWorld: SkinWalker Book 2) (4 page)

Logan nodded. "We understand. Don't worry. We'll get her out. Kai's dead set on it, there's no stopping her." Logan smiled.

She gave a small nod. "She must be retrieved or she
will
go out of her mind," Melisande said softly. "It won't take much to send her over the edge, for her to go completely insane. Don't waste any time."

My heart clenched and I paid little attention to Logan as he assured the Tracker we had no intention of wasting time. I squeezed my temples as if that would help the crazy swirling in my brain.

No matter how indifferent I'd been to Greer's predicament, Melisande's words certainly changed things.

I had to save Greer. And soon.

***

We said our goodbyes and left a solemn-looking Melisande on her doorstep sufficiently placated with the promise we would get Greer out of the Greylands as soon as possible.

Once Logan drove around the corner I asked, "Why was she so upset?"

"Probably because she feels helpless." He shrugged. "Mel is the kind of Tracker that gets in, gets the person out. She gets the job done. And in this case, she couldn't because Greer was in the Greylands and the Greylands is off limits. I'd bet it's never happened to Mel before—having to find a soul in the Greylands still alive."

"Yeah. I can totally understand her frustration." I snorted. "What now? How do we get into the Greylands? How do we get her out?"

"We will need a Death-talker," Jess answered from the back seat.

"What's a Death-talker?" I frowned.

"They're Light Ethereals with the ability to travel between life and death, between the veils. They communicate with the dead, so they have
a good understanding of the Greylands and will be able to show us how to get there."

"Okay, hold on. What exactly is the Greylands? I didn't ask when Melisande mentioned it because I didn't want to disturb her, but I'm not exactly familiar with this place."

"It's an In-Between plane," Jess replied. "The place the dead pass through on their way to eternal rest. It is also a place in which the dead remain if they are unable to find their way to their destination."

"You mean it's like Purgatory?"

"Something like that. The demon realms have easy access to the Greylands. Demons live there, make it their job to entice the dead to join them, to do their bidding."

"So what happens to the dead if they do the demon's bidding?" I asked.

"They return to this realm in a ghostly form, most often one with deeper malevolence."

"Like poltergeists?"

Jess nodded. "The ghosts are angry and demented, forced by the demons to do their bidding. Possessions, disturbances, destructive hauntings, unexplained murders. The list goes on."

I sat back a moment, absorbing her words. "So this stuff is real." Cold fingers slithered down my spine. "What would a demon do with a living person in the Greylands?"

"I am assuming a possession in a similar fashion to the dead. They could bring the human back to the living realm and use them as a familiar to do their bidding here. There is no doubt that Greer is in mortal danger. If she resists a demon, if she angers one enough, they could kill her. And a mortal who dies in the In-Between will stay there for all eternity." Despite the seriousness of the topic, Jess's face remained serene and unaffected.

An icy chill set between my shoulder blades. Greer's potential fate was worse than I'd expected. I shuddered to think of what my family would say when they heard.

I tried to refocus. "So a Death-talker can help us how?"

"They can show us the way in. Tell us what to do and what not to do. What weapons work and what do not."

"A survival guide to the Greylands." My words came out a croaky whisper.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Logan spoke for the first time in a while. "Jess, have you ever heard of a Walker being stuck in the Greylands?"

Jess shook her head then pulled out her phone. Odd looking at an Immortal with a mobile phone. "I shall ask Nerina to meet us here." She lifted her head to look at me. "Oh and Nerina will need the strands of hair too."

I nodded but Jess had already returned her attention to the message she was typing out. Did the Death-talker have a PDA as well? But I was being stupid. They were all people just like me. It would be like assuming a feline Walker wouldn't use a mobile because he turns into a cat every now and again.

Jess clicked her phone shut and pinned her gaze on the back of Logan's head. He cleared his throat as I swiveled to him. "There's something we need to discuss with you."

"Okay." I smiled, a little nervous at the change in tone of the conversation.

"Omega wishes to make you an offer." Now I knew why he hadn't yet broached the subject with me. Why he'd needed his superior to push him into it.

"What kind of offer?" My voice was cool, matching my expression.

"Omega would like to offer you a position."

"A position? So am I to assume Omega's help to locate and rescue Greer is dependent on my decision to join?" My voice dropped a few degrees. He'd better not say yes. And the longer he took to answer me, the more furious I got. "Was that what all this was? A way to show me the lengths Omega can go to help me just so that I'd be encouraged to join?" I wasn't against the art of manipulation. I just didn't like being on the receiving end of it.

"No, Kai. That's not what this is at all. You know I wouldn't do that to you. And neither would Jess." With a nod of his head, Logan urged Jess to agree. When I turned my head to the Immortal, I knew Logan was right even though I could see he was afraid he may be wrong. Jess had told me her duty was to protect and guide Logan, and one part of that was to be of assistance to me because I happened to be the Niamh or whatever it was she'd called me.

"Logan is being honest with you, Kailin. Neither of us has manipulated you in any way, nor do we have any intention of ever doing so. We are merely messengers of Omega in this instance. They see you as an asset. Someone who will be an advantage to the organization. Maybe even someone who can do a lot of good. But I am not here to sell the position to you. That decision you must make on your own."

"And whatever decision you make will have no impact on the help we give you," added Logan, his face strained. "You can trust me on that. And you can trust Jess."

"Okay, I believe you." For a moment I remained silent as I considered Omega's offer. I had no idea what their agenda was. "But I can't make a decision like that right now. I've got too many things going on. Can it wait?"

"I'm sure it can wait," Logan assured me.

But Jess leaned forward. "Do not take too long. It is best to make the decision and accept or decline rather than drawing it out."

"I agree. I won't take too long. But in the meantime, I need to make plans to retrieve Greer."

Both of them nodded.

Jess's phone beeped and she flicked it open. "Nerina will meet us here tonight."

I frowned as Logan drew up in front of my building. It wasn't even midday yet. I wasn't keen on waiting for so long. "Why so late?"

"The Death-talkers work best at night. They use the shadows to travel between the veils."

"I see. Okay, so maybe in the meantime, I'll pay my father a visit. Keep him up to speed on what's going on." I jumped out of the car, enjoying the strength in my limbs as I stretched, then bent over and looked at Logan. "So how long will this treatment last? When do you think it will start fading?"

Logan's lips turned up as he gave a small shrug. "Probably anywhere from two days to a week. You'll be the first to notice the wane in your strength levels. Try not to overtax yourself though. If you put yourself through anything very rigorous or stressful, it may negate everything I just did."

I grimaced. "I guess that also means no transforming?"

"Sorry." He didn't look sorry. "No transforming."

"Fine." I glanced at Jess. "You guys want lunch?"

"What? Are you cooking?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

I withdrew my mobile from my pocket and flicked it open. "Nope. But I am ordering."

Logan grinned and so did Jess, but both shook their heads. "Sorry, but we have to get to HQ. Paperwork. And I'd like to get more work done on the fire technique."

I grinned as they escaped my hospitality, leaving me to my thoughts of Greer and her impending insanity.

***

Silence hung heavy in the apartment as I pottered about feeling a little useless. Sunlight streamed into the living room, and a cool breeze played with the curtains. I made sure my weapons, crossbow, knives, and scimitar would fit in my rucksack.

I'd learned a costly lesson not so long ago. Never underestimate an opponent and never go anywhere unarmed. I'd gotten complacent thinking the hunt for a psycho Walker killer couldn't be as dangerous as killing Wraiths. That my strength and abilities meant I would be near-invincible.

Could I have been any more wrong?

I opted to leave the bow behind and safely strapped my knives to my ankles, well hidden by my boots. Tucking the scimitar into a leather satchel, I turned to leave my room when my gaze caught the obsidian Wraith sword, hanging on the dining room wall like a souvenir from my travels. An unlikely weapon to hide well. My arm throbbed, as if the wound answered the call of the inflicting weapon.

I shook my head and headed to the door. I was shrugging my leather jacket on when a key jiggled the lock and someone shoved the door open.

"Grams?" I called out, simultaneously thrilled and annoyed.

"Hello, darling. I'm home." Grams sighed, dropped her keys onto the dining table, and left her duffel on the floor to come to me. She wrapped me in one of her loving, jasmine-scented hugs and I gave her a returning squeeze. Then she held me away and inspected me head to toe. "How's your hand?" Her voice got motherly and demanding, although I didn't miss the tightening at the corners of her eyes.

I recalled how she hadn't wanted to leave me when work had called her out on a job a week ago. But I'd managed to convince her that between Lily, Iain, Tara and Logan, I had plenty of people looking in on me and I'd be fine. In the end she'd left, but she hadn't looked happy and she still had that unsatisfied, almost guilty look on her face now.

"It's fine." I didn't give in to the urge to touch my forearm.

"Let me see." She moved forward.

"It's fine." I repeated and tried to step away, but she got that look in her eye and said, "Kailin Odel, please take that jacket off this minute and let me look."

I sighed, defeated. Shrugging off the jacket, I dragged up the sleeve of my pullover and stuck my forearm close to Grams' face. She bent her head to inspect the wound, pressed her finger into the sensitive skin around it, and nodded. "Good. It's healing."

"Not by itself it's not." My tone was dry and I enjoyed the almost startled look she gave me.

"What do you mean?"

"This bloody wound has had me flat on my back since you left. Logan's been treating it with his fire. Seems the fire is the only thing that can take the poison away—at least for a while."

Grams' face purpled. "Are you insane? What if he sets you alight with his fire? Playing with a Mage's power is too dangerous, Kailin."

"Don't worry, Grams. Logan's been practicing his technique and his control. We know how dangerous it can be. He's been very careful."

"As long as he's being careful." I tugged at my arm but she didn't let go.

"I'm sure he will be. I doubt Omega would want to take responsibility for my exploded hand."

Grams shuddered delicately. "Don't even use the word exploded." Then she linked arms with me and walked me over to the sofa. "Sit. I have something for you."

"Okay," I answered slowly, warily.

She hurried back to her duffel, digging around inside it for a while then withdrew something wrapped in black fabric. The moment she turned to me, I knew what it was. The magic in it seemed to resonate with my blood, my bones. Even my breath hitched as she sat next to me.

I said nothing as she opened the fabric and placed the bronze armband in my hands. "So that's where it went," I whispered.

I'd searched the apartment for the armband, wanting to examine the damage Widd'en's sword had inflicted on a piece of armor meant to protect me from anything but I hadn't found it. Eventually the pain had taken its toll on me instead and I'd forgotten my search. Now, I stared at the armor piece and for a moment considered giving it right back to Grams. What was the point in keeping the damned thing if it didn't actually do its job?

Instead, I turned it over to inspect the damage.

There was none.

The metal had been repaired perfectly. So well I couldn't tell it had ever been damaged.

I frowned at Grams. "I took it to be repaired."

"Who in the world is capable of fixing something like this so well?" Grams didn't answer. I turned to face my grandmother, taking in her unusually young features with a narrow eye. "Grams, I think you owe me some answers. And I don't think I want to wait anymore."