Conduit (4 page)

Sighing, he nodded as though he’d
made some kind of promise and then shifted, stopping by Lizzie for just a
second so he could bend and gently kiss her forehead. Some part of him thought
perhaps she  might sense him and wake before he left, but that was just him
being naïve and blindly hopeful in the wake of fear.  He stared at her face,
trying not to think about how pale and fragile she appeared.  He had to believe
everything would somehow be okay.  That’s when he finally left.

* * *

“Griffin?  Can you hear me?” 

Celia’s voice was distant, and his
head ached beyond measure.  The pain came in throbbing waves, and he wanted to
bury himself deeper in the blackness, hoping that darkness might drive the
unpleasantness away.

“Griffin?”  The voice was louder and
more insistent, something that wasn’t going to go away.  If only he could think
beyond this raging headache.

“Head hurts,” he muttered, thinking
that might distract her and let him slip back into the blessed blackness.

“I know that.  But you need to wake
up.  I need to make sure you’re okay, Griffin, and to do that, I need to see
your eyes.”

            While he didn’t have a
clue just how unpleasant opening his eyes was going to be, just lying here like
this was torture and took everything he had.  Still, if Celia thought it was
necessary, he would do as she asked, no matter how hard it was.

            Taking a deep breath, he
opened his eyes.  Although the lighting wasn’t all that bright, it seemed like
sunlight as it cut through him, forcing a strangled gasp from his throat.

            “Easy…just take it
easy.”  Griffin felt a hand stroke his forehead, a touch of cool glancing
across his skin, and in its wake the pain slowly receded like the tide washing
back to the ocean, which made it easier to blink once…twice…three times. 

            At first, the world
blurred and spun in a way he’d never experienced, not even when he’d had his
only concussion in second grade.  The spinning made him nauseated, and he thought
he might vomit.  Still, at least the pain was dissipating, suggesting that
perhaps he might eventually rebound.

            “What happened?” he
asked, trying to remember something beyond what he felt, but nothing was coming
to mind.

            “You were attacked.” 

            He gazed toward the voice
and waited for Celia’s face to come into focus.  When it did, he saw the
worried frown tugging at her lips.  Puzzled, he thought he was lying on the
couch in Lizzie’s house, but then, as the fog cleared from the room and
everything came into focus, he realized that while he was on the couch, Celia
was sitting beneath him, cradling his body against hers.  The back of his head
rested against her chest, and he saw the delicate line of her neck before
finding her face.

“Attacked?” 
He blinked a couple of times.  Regardless of how hard he tried to remember, he
couldn’t.  In fact, his mind was a blank slate.

            “Yes.”  She stroked the
hair from his eyes.  “Don’t you remember walking a few hours ago?  We were
talking about Lev, and as we headed down to the lake, it happened.”

            The details sounded
vaguely familiar, and he had no doubt her words held the truth.   It was just
that everything blurred together, like he’d been given medication.

            “What attacked us?”

            “
Dybbuks
.”

            He blinked a few more
times and finally struggled to sit up.  Celia guided him, and even though he
tried not to think of her cradling him  in her arms, the sensation lingered,
reminding him of all the things she refused to talk about with him, things she
refused to speak aloud, which made no sense.

            “What are
dybbuks
?” 
His voice was hoarse, and it took everything he had just to get the words out. 
Speaking, too, hurt.

            “They are souls which for
various reasons have remained in this world long after separation from their
bodies.”  Celia averted her eyes, obviously uncomfortable.

            “How is that possible?  I
thought sojourners took care of that.”

            She nodded reluctantly. 
“Indeed.  We are supposed to, but that does not mean it always happens. 
Sometimes the timing is wrong and the sojourner doesn’t arrive and guide the
soul before it slips away.  Sometimes the souls refuse to sojourn.  Sometimes
the sojourners become corrupted and fail to do their jobs.  While it should be
a perfect system, it’s not.  Angels are just as flawed as humans.”  She stared at
him.  “We, too, have free will, and that free will can destroy us like any
other beings.”

Suddenly Griffin knew why she hadn’t
spoken of this before.  It wasn’t just about Lev and Elizabeth.  It was about
what could happen to them, too, as a couple--how the tide might shift and destroy
them, and she was trying desperately to warn him in the only way she could.

“So why did I not see anything?” he
asked, the memories of the past few hours slowly coming back.

“Because you don’t know what you are
looking for.  Why should you be able to see human souls in their purest form? 
There is no reason for that.”  She stood and headed to the front window to look
out into the night.  Moonlight cascaded down, yet she hardly seemed calmed by
it.  Really, it only seemed to add to her agitation.

“All right.  I guess I can see that. 
But if they are human souls, why did they attack us?  That makes no sense.”

“It does if you want a body to
control once again.”  She hung her head and stayed there, lost in thought.

“What?” 

“Many of the
dybbuks
only want
one thing—to find a body and return in the only way they can, back to the land
of the living and to interact with those left behind.  Sometimes all they want
is a chance to say goodbye.  Sometimes, it’s far more than that.”

Griffin rubbed the back of his neck. 
“And what would have happened if one of them had managed to get inside me?”

“You would have been like a tourist
going on a vacation you never meant to take.”  She slowly shifted so their eyes
met.  “You’d be seeing lots of things, doing lots of things, but nothing would
be in your control.”

“That really doesn’t sound so
great.”  He slowly stood and folded his arms across his chest.  “So why do I
feel like this, as though my body is all bruised inside?”  He stretched
slightly, trying not to let the pain he felt show on his face.  “It’s like I’ve
been in a wreck or something.”

She made her way to him.  “In a
manner of speaking, you were.  At least two different spirits fought over you,
which means you were really lucky there’s not enough room in humans for
multiple souls, and three is usually enough to destroy the body.”

Stepping up to him, she settled her
hand on his chest.  At first, he flinched, but she offered a smile.  “Easy—I’m
just trying to help, and your soul is safe with me.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” he said, trying
not to tense up.  “It’s just after the attack, I’m a little unsettled.”

She nodded, the only way to let him
know she understood what he felt.  “Close your eyes.”

“Why?” 

Her face was inches from his, and he
couldn’t break away from the blue of her eyes. 

“Because when I help you get that
pain under control, there’s going to be another flash of bright light.  Because
the pain is caused by something supernatural, the healing is going to cause
that light to be blinding, and I think you really want to keep your sight.”

Griffin reluctantly closed his eyes. 
“Knock yourself out.”

“This might be a little warm.”

A smile touched his lips.  “Then
you’d best get to it.”

Even with his eyes closed, he saw the
brilliance behind his lids, and Celia had been right: had his eyes been open,
he probably would have been blinded.  Then he felt the warmth, mild at first
but quickly surging to a searing, nearly unbearable heat.  He winced and pulled
away, but Celia gripped his arm, holding him in place.

“Almost done.  Have patience.”

Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he
quickly found himself gasping for air.  “It’s hot,” he gasped.

Suddenly the brilliance flared to a
harsher level before fading, leaving him in darkness.  He felt himself falling,
but Celia held onto him, maintaining his balance.

“Focus on your breathing.  You’ll be
fine.”

He reached out, grasping for her free
hand, and felt relieved when she took hold of him, keeping him close. 

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Of course.”

He took a deep breath. The first
thing he saw was Celia standing before him.  Their gazes locked, and he inhaled
deeply, waiting for the pain to grab him, but it never came.  All he could feel
was his heart beat quicken as he stared at her beautiful face--timeless,
haunting, and glorious.

“Celia,” he stared.  “I know you
don’t want to talk—”

Immediately she put a finger to his
lips, silencing him.  “We can’t.  You know we can’t.  We’ve both seen how
things like this end up.”

He gently moved her hand.  “It
doesn’t mean we will turn out like that.”

“It doesn’t mean we won’t.”  She
quickly leaned toward him and pecked his cheek before withdrawing.  “Besides,
we’ve got more trouble than we bargained for if the
dybbuks
are
traveling in packs.”       

“I don’t understand.”  He shoved his hands
into his pocket.

“
Dybbuks
are solitary
creatures, Griffin, and the fact that they’re giving up that solitude for
something…other…means one very dangerous thing.”  She pushed the hair from her
eyes and looked up at the ceiling, praying.  Her lips moved, but he couldn’t
tell what she said, which while in some ways he found troubling in others he
wondered whether he might be better off not knowing.  Still, he couldn’t
refrain from asking.

“Which is?”

“That someone or something is
summoning and controlling them.”

Chapter Four

“I’ve run every test I can think of,
and truthfully, nothing looks abnormal in any of the results—no flags to guide
me as to what might have caused the seizure.”

Dr. Ronson stood before them, holding
Lizzie’s chart as she spoke. Although her voice sounded confident, her words
lacked conviction.  She was still looking at the information, trying to find
that one missing piece that would make everything else seem logical.

Lev and Jimmie had just returned, and
Lev clenched his jaw at her words.  Part of him wanted to shout out for her to
get a clue.  What she needed to know wasn’t buried in that paperwork, waiting
for her to stumble across it.  There was no medical book which covered
dybbuks
—or
angels, for that matter—so she was way more out of her league than she thought. 
She just didn’t know it.

Although Lizzie seemed, at least to
Dr. Ronson, to be sitting up in bed, looking every bit the healthy patient who
had no business in a hospital, it was one of Evan’s magical tricks.  She had
even managed to ‘converse’ with Ronson and the nurses to complete the
illusion. 

Just before Ronson had come in, Evan
had told both him and Jimmie that whatever the
dybbuks
had done to
Lizzie had left her lingering in some state of unconsciousness where she either
couldn’t or didn’t respond to Evan when he tried to enter her dreams.  No, the
real Lizzie was still lying just as pale as she’d been when they’d come in, and
Evan had had to fend off at least three
dybbuks
from her bedside.  He hadn’t
been able to sojourn the spirits properly, so he just had to stun and ward
them, hoping they would forget about Lizzie.

Evan was hoping that by getting her
home, he could leave her in Celia’s care and find angels who might know more
than he did, which, to Lev, was saying something, as old was Evan was.  If he sought
the cavalry, this was serious…way serious.

“So, when can Lizzie go home?” Jimmie
asked, smiling optimistically.  He looked toward the bed.  Lev knew that he,
too, wasn’t fooled by the illusion, but he did have to keep up appearances to
get all of them out of here.  He pointed at Lizzie.  “I mean, she looks great,
so different than when she first came in here.”

Dr. Ronson took a moment away from
trying to glean information from Lizzie’s chart to study the patient herself,
and Lev had to give the good doctor credit.  She still believed something was
off, even in the face of all the misinformation Evan had been so busily providing
for her chart.  Something didn’t add up, and Ronson knew it.

“I just wish I knew which direction
to go to pursue this,” the doctor mumbled, shaking her head at the paperwork in
front of her.  “Perhaps we should arrange a consult.”

“I’d rather she just come home,”
Jimmie argued, his voice sounding a bit more forceful than he intended.

“That’s not really what I’d
recommend.”  She took a deep breath. “But she does look fine, and since I can’t
think of any logical reason for the seizure, however remote, and she hasn’t had
another one since she’s been here, I will get the nurse to draw up her
paperwork so she can leave.”

“Thank you.”  Jimmie offered a kindly
smile, grateful to be going home.

“I would prefer you keep in mind that
just because Lizzie doesn’t seem to be suffering from any symptomology anymore
does not mean she isn’t.  Watch her.  If you have any concerns, and I do mean
any, please bring her back so we can check her out.  She also needs to check in
with her doctor even if she seems fine.”

Jimmie nodded.  “You got it.  I’ll be
watching over her like a hawk, as usual.”

“All right.  A nurse should be in
shortly with the discharge forms.”  Dr. Ronson gave Lizzie a parting look, and
Jimmie was pretty convinced Evan made sure that she saw Lizzie looking right
back at her—had her smiling, even.  Sometimes it really was the little things
that made all the difference.

Once Dr. Ronson had slipped out,
Jimmie exhaled a sigh of relief, glad not to feel like he was standing under
the lens of a microscope while the doctor watched everything which transpired. 
It was one thing with normal medical mysteries.  It was another with the
supernatural kind.

Evan appeared and Lizzie’s bedside,
and even though Jimmie was used to him popping in and out as he’d been doing
the whole time he had been with Lizzie in the hospital, he still almost bumped
into the angel when he did materialize.

Jimmie stared at Lizzie, a worried
frown tugging at his lips.  “How long is she going to stay like this?  I’d feel
better if she woke up.”

“No, you really wouldn’t,” Evan
argued, his gaze shifting to the monitors.  Although everything was calm and
her vitals appeared normal, appearances didn’t count for much because of all
the things humans couldn’t see or know.

“And why is that?” Jimmie asked,
folding his arms across his chest.  “Why is her lying there like she’s dead so much
better than her being awake?”

“How do you think she’s dealing with
having souls trying to take over her body while she’s still in it?  It’s like
she’s a passenger for a car she can’t control,” Evan said coolly.  “Besides, in
addition to keeping a lookout for
dybbuks
, I’m also monitoring Lizzie’s
mental state, and right now, there are volatile emotions swirling inside, even
though she appears calm.  While the souls didn’t manage to get inside deeply
enough to claim control of her body, they did manage to wreak havoc by letting
her feel how damaged they really are.”

Lev inhaled sharply.  “Can’t you just
shield her?”

“No, not if I want to keep enough
strength so that I can fend off the
dybbuks
.  The best I can do is just
keep her in submerged in this state so that no one notices the panic she’s
feeling.  She’d definitely have the floor’s attention otherwise.”

“Damn it,” Jimmie seethed, pacing
around the room.  “So she’s stuck in this nightmare she can’t wake from and you
refuse to do anything to help her?  What kind of angel are you?”

“Not an all-powerful one,” Evan said,
his voice gaining an edge.  “Even if Lizzie were to regain consciousness, it
wouldn’t mean she would be free of the darkness which has laid claim to her. 
Lizzie’s path has always skirted the edge of the supernatural.  The
reincarnation, her relationship with Lev, the dagger, and now this.  Her fate
is so much more complicated than that of an average mortal, yet you want me to
be able to fix everything.”  He glared at Jimmie.  “Yes, I am a supernatural
creature, but even so, some things are still beyond me.”

At that, all of them fell into
silence, and the only sound which even remotely seemed to break it was the
sound of the clock on the wall ticking its way toward oblivion. 

Approximately thirty minutes after
Dr. Ronson had gone, a nurse finally arrived with the discharge paperwork for
Jimmie to sign.  As Lev waited by the window, the nurse went over the
instructions with Jimmie.  She, too, probably thought she was going over them
with Lizzie, but the real Lizzie was still beyond hearing a word she said.

Lev, too, wondered if she really were
better off in that state.  He tried to remember being an angel and feeling that
sure about anything, but he couldn’t.  How had anything ever seemed so secure? 
Since he’d been human, it had been anything but.  Most of his former life had
dwindled to flashes of memory that came and went as they pleased.  The only
thing he could do was trust that if Evan thought this was a good thing, he had
no choice but to trust him because now he was human and vulnerable.

Just as the first nurse finished
going over the paperwork, a second one appeared with a wheelchair, determined
to drive the patient down to the parking lot.

Although Lev really didn’t want to
leave, he held out his hand for keys and said, “I’ll get the truck.”

“Thanks.”  Jimmie handed them over,
his gaze still focused on his beloved, so attentive he didn’t see Lev leave. 
No, all he saw was Elizabeth being helped into the wheelchair.  No doubt Evan
was still behind the scenes, doing his own helping.

“You look so much better, Lizzie,”
the nurse commented cheerfully, which forced Lizzie to nod, or at least appear
to nod.  While it was harmless enough, all the small talk was setting Jimmie’s
teeth on edge because he knew Lizzie really couldn’t respond to any of it, and
he’d never been great at doing anything for show.  No, he’d take things the way
they really were any day.  There was something to be said for understanding
just how things were supposed to be rather than how they appeared to be. 
Still, the whole way to the parking lot, Jimmie managed to keep from saying
exactly what he felt when he felt it because he knew it wasn’t going to do any
good.

The nurse wheeled Lizzie out to the
curb, where Lev already stood, waiting beside the truck.  As he caught sight of
Lizzie, he opened the passenger door, obviously anxious to get her away from
this place.

“You ready to go home, Lizzie?” the
nurse asked, again in that sickeningly cheerful voice.

Again, Lizzie nodded, just as the
wheelchair stopped in front of the truck.  The nurse applied the brakes and
hovered close as Lizzie stepped toward the truck and slid onto the bench seat,
scooting toward the middle to make sure both Jimmie and Lev would fit.

Once the nurse was satisfied Lizzie
had belted in properly and that her job was done, she gave a final wave and
headed back inside. 

“Thank God,” Jimmie said, his
shoulders sagging under the weight of relief as he ambled to the driver’s side
and got in to find the key still in the ignition, waiting.  “I thought we weren’t
going to get out of there.”

“That makes two of us,” Lev grumbled,
easing in on his own side.

Both of them shifted at the same time
to see Lizzie as she really appeared, slumped as she was against the seat, her
head lolling backward.  Somehow, Evan sat on the small bench seat in back, his
hands lingering on Lizzie’s shoulders, presumably to keep her upright.  As Evan
wasn’t small, it amazed Lev he even fit.

“Nice tricks back there,” Lev quipped
dryly.  “I was wondering what you do if Nurse Nice asked you a question that
required a verbal answer.”

“I would have managed,” Evan said in
Lizzie’s voice.  Her lips moved as well to complete the effect.

Jimmie held up his hands in
surrender.  “Okay, stop that.  It’s downright frightening to hear my own
daughter’s voice come out of you.  I don’t care if you are an angel.”

“I don’t like it any better than you
do,” Evan mused, this time in his own voice as Jimmie started the truck and
eased away from the curb.

Once they’d left the parking lot,
Lizzie gave out a soft moan, the first sound she’d made since Evan had pushed
her into a deep sleep.  Immediately, Lev reached over and stroked her forehead,
distressed that she might be in pain.

“It’s okay, baby.  I’m here.”  He
leaned close.

“Is she waking up?” Jimmie asked,
glancing back and forth between the road and her.  He couldn’t stare directly
at his daughter because just up ahead, there was a semi with a load of long
metal poles.

“Probably not,” Evan replied.  “I’ve
just eased up my hold on her slightly so that if there are any
dybbuks
near, I will have a better chance to sense them.  It’s taking a lot out of me
to keep her under so deeply for so long.”  Still, he leaned forward, hands
resting on her shoulders as though he prepared to put her back under more
deeply should the need arise.

Evan cocked his head to the side, and
his expression turned strange, almost as though lost in another time and
place.  Lev shook his head.

“What is it?”

“There’s something off.”  He blinked
a couple of times.  “I just can’t put my finger on it.  It’s not exactly a
dybbuk
…much
darker and less…human.”

Suddenly, something shoved at the
truck, propelling it forward.  In a panic, Jimmie tried to brake, but his foot
fumbled, treadling the gas instead.

Evan saw the crash coming.  With one
hand, he gripped Lizzie, and with the other held Lev, securing them as the
truck slammed into the back of the semi.  Poles shot through the glass, two of
which only nearly missed Lizzie and Lev.  A third slammed into Jimmie and impaled
him, pinning him back against the seat.