First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) (6 page)

“Call an ambulance,” said a voice above her head.

I need to get up,
thought Amber,
Get out of here. I need … I need to stand up.

She couldn’t get a single muscle to move.

“Are you pregnant?” demanded another voice. Then continued. “My daughter couldn’t stay on her feet with her first.”

“That might have been the cause,” said another with a nasty laugh.

She couldn’t stay on the floor. No, ridiculous. Bad. Vulnerable. Undignified. She should get up. Right now. But no, her body refused to obey. Refused to answer her mind. She groaned a little, just to confirm to herself she was still conscious, still alive, even while her body ached with exhaustion and darkness dragged her down.

She had no idea how much time had passed when the world came back again. She was lying on her back, still on the dusty carpet with her head tilted up on a thick unyielding chair cushion. She tried to sit up but hands reached toward her from every direction to make her lie down again. One hand swam into view clutching a large cup.

“Take it easy,” said a man’s voice. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Amber blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurred sight. Overhead and upside down she saw a tall, thin man with graying hair and worried blue eyes. Nice, kind, warm voice. She smiled at it. Comforting voice with just enough authority to make her reach for the cup.

“It’s alright, dear,” said a woman’s voice. “My daughter used to do this all the time when her sugar got low. Just drink a little milk and you’ll be fine.”

“I am fine.” insisted Amber, struggling against the hands holding her down – and gravity, which seemed stronger here.

“The ambulance is on its way,” said the man. “Stay where you are for a little longer.”

“No, really,” Amber finally managed a sitting position leaning against one of the helpful ladies, tried to take the cup and missed, twice. After her second attempt she sat and permitted her rescuer to feed her milk one sip at a time.

“Did you trip?” asked the man with the cup. Amber caught a brief glimpse of worn-at-the-heels cowboy boots hidden under his work casual trousers as he shifted into a better position to feed her the cold milk. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your forehead.”

“I’m fine, truly,” muttered Amber, trying to paste a smile on her face and struggling to focus on the bobbing name tag on his shirt. “Ah, you’re the manager. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue.”

“Thanks. That was the only worry on my mind.”

His wide mouth twisted in a wry smile, and Amber blinked. Now that her vision was clearing he seemed younger than her first guess. With the generous sprinkling of grey in his hair and pale skin she’d first pegged him at mid-forties – maybe older. A closer guess was thirty-something with the beginning of smile lines and intelligent blue eyes.

Tired blue eyes.

He reached out to lift her hair back off her bruise, brushing his fingertips over her forehead. Again her strength fled. She tried to scream, but could no longer command her lungs. Her spirit shifted, half pulled from her body.

She stared up at a half-light world. Bright, glowing stars shone in a sky of opalescent grey. She wasn’t sure where the knowledge came from, but if she concentrated she knew that she would be able to fly to the furthest edge of the universe. There was life out there. Everywhere. She could see it, feel it. There was power and beauty and …

Her soul shivered, clutched around her immobile body. There was something out there with her.

Something hungry.

Hungry and needy and pumping pain out into the void.

She spun helplessly, seeking an escape, a home. The town of Laurenville and the bookstore passed before her eyes, throbbing around her, barely visible under the weight of a huge, black gulping mass that sat like a broody hen over the bookstore. She could feel, see her life being drawn down the masses of tendrils reaching, clutching at her. Amber reached desperately at her own life cord, a bright silver light joining her spirit to her body and dragged herself back together. She screamed as spirit and body reunited, arching back and falling free of the manager’s light touch. Pins and needles as big as swords dipped in fire stabbed her flesh from every direction. Her arms and legs cramped and spasmed. Every bruise, broken bone, cold, fever, and childhood injury she ever had received in her life lined up to yell and welcome her back to her body.

“She’s having a seizure,” shouted someone, as the cup of milk flew spinning across the floor. “Put something in her mouth.”

“They don’t do that anymore,” cried someone closer, just as the ambulance crew charged in the door and Amber lost her fight against the encroaching darkness.

Some unknown time later Amber blinked and tried to raise her hand to rub her crusted eyes. Plastic tubing whipped around slapping against her face. Her hand fell back to the bed and she lay gasping, too weak to try again.

“Hey,” said Smoke, rising from the chair beside the bed.

“Hey, yourself,” Amber whispered and coughed to clear her achingly dry throat. She pushed her heels against the bed without accomplishing anything. Smoke took pity on her and used the bed remote to raise the head of the bed. Once she was a little more upright she examined the room. Not a bookstore. There was one hotel quality art print in a cheap frame right in front of her bed, easy wash wallpaper and gleaming, mysterious taps and tubing arranged around the room. A mini computer screen above her head showed the familiar EKG waveform. “Hospital?”

“Hospital. You passed out, Amber. Slept through an ambulance ride, MRI, X-rays, and visits from some pretty nice nurses, or some nice, pretty nurses. Your choice.” Reading the question in Amber’s eyes he continued. “You’ve been out six hours.”

“Well, damn,” whispered Amber.

“Karl Benn, the bookstore manager, found your cell phone and called everyone on your list until he got to us. Fortunately he got to me before he got to your parents. Anyhow, that’s how we knew where you were. Yes, and you owe me one. I had to get Lightning to drive me here. That was no joy ride I can tell you.”

Briefly distracted from her own worries Amber stared at Smoke.

“Wait,
Lightning
has a license?”

“Lightning has a learner’s permit. For about twenty years now. Hasn’t passed a test yet. Though since he’s taken it twenty-seven times you’d think the testing office would give him one just to be rid of him.” He studied her intently then sat back. “Feeling better now?”

“I guess,” Amber examined the bond between her body and her spirit. Weak, thin, and barely holding together. “How do I go about getting home?”

“A little paperwork,” Smoke waved his hand, dismissing the pile that rested on the bedside table. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you outta here. You’re probably gonna have to promise to see a doctor a day for the next two months and eat a ton of apples, but we’ll manage. Of course,” he grinned evilly, “Lightning will have to drive us home.”

Amber shuddered and settled back against the pillows. “Can I stay here?”

Smoke fetched a cup of water from the nightstand and popped the tip of a bendy straw into her mouth. Amber sipped, letting the liquid fill her mouth, afraid in her current state that she didn’t have the strength to swallow properly. Breathing was an agony. Her whole body ached like a fresh bruise.

“Ready to tell me what happened?” asked Smoke, climbing onto the bed to sit and hold her hand.

“Got attacked by the giant monster.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “Good start for my first day.”

Smoke shook his head.

“You’re sure?

“Abso – bloody – lutely. The bookshop is infested by … something.”

“Seriously? I’m surprised Lucinda dared buy a book from there, bring something contaminated into the house.”

“Maybe she was planning on doing some sort of spell with it. Use it as a focus for scrying.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Smoke didn’t look convinced. “Risky, either way. What I don’t understand is, what happened to you?”

“I was attacked.”

“Well, duh, obviously. But how and why did the attack hit home?”

Amber lay back, her eyes closed, and felt the prickle of threatening tears. Tears of self-pity and shame. She’d fucked up.

“Amber? What happened?”

She didn’t answer.

“Amber? Do you need the nurse? The doctor?”

“A witch-doctor, maybe.
Calling Doctor Bombay? Come right away
!”

“Oh, please, no jokes. What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

She honestly didn’t know. She’d been standing up one second, and then her whole body failed her.

“What did you see?” persisted Smoke. “What sort of monster is it?”

Amber drew in a breath and forced down the panic that rose at the memory of the helplessness.

“Well … I touched the bookshop door, and then I just went down.”

“You fainted.”

“I … I’ve never fainted in my life,” said Amber, harshly then blushed. “Not until today. I didn’t faint at the door. I felt … like I was being pulled out of myself.”

Smoke settled back and rubbed his face.

“Pulled out?”

“Yes, until I just landed on the floor. Then, I think I fainted. Afterwards. After I was already on the ground. I was so … tired. So weak. I can remember … breathing was hard. Then when I woke up, this guy, the manager, touched my face and I got pulled out again and I think I saw the Ethereal Planes!”

Smoke’s eyebrows rose and his hand tightened on hers.

“Truly? And it was the manager who did this. You’re sure?”

“Yes. First it was the door. It pulled me loose, but my body held me back. Then when he touched me, I was pulled out of my body again. It was so unexpected, so strong. I couldn’t, for a moment I couldn’t come back, but I found my life cord and pulled, literally pulled myself back together.”

Her voice was ragged. Just the memory of those few seconds was enough to set her whole body trembling. Smoke took both of her chilled hands in his and pressed them to his warm face. The solidity of him settled her spirit and she relaxed onto the pillows.

“Lady Bless,” whispered Smoke. “You got back. That’s the important thing.”

“I almost didn’t, Smoke. I . . I’ve never been so frightened.”

“You did. Focus on that.” He frowned. “We’ve got to find out what is going on in that place. Is it just you? Did you trigger a ward that told … whatever the monster is that you’re a practitioner?”

“I have no idea, but I’m not going back in.”

“Damned right you’re not. Not until we know more about it and you, you’ve got to get some rest. You look …”

“Like I almost died?”

“Close enough.”

He tried to make it sound like a joke. Neither of them smiled.

“Well, I don’t want to stay here,” Amber glanced around. Hospitals and hotels, they tried to be comforting, welcoming, and never quite achieved it. “No one here will understand what I have to do to recover from an involuntary out of body experience.”

“Damned straight.”

“What do we have to do to get me out of here?”

“Well, first of all it would help if you looked a little less like a corpse.”

“I suppose.” Amber tried to sit up, but her abused and shaking body only shivered in response to her mind’s command. Amber gave her cousin a weak smile. “This job is going to take more than makeup.”

“Granted. There isn’t enough this side of Hollywood.”

“Oh, gee, thanks. What do you suggest?”

“Lying. That’s my forte. Leave it to me.”

Smoke pushed and allowed himself to drop from the bed. He landed with a louder thud than she expected from a small man. He slipped from the room and shut the door firmly behind him. Amber relaxed against the pillows then gasped and clutched at the blankets. The moment she’d tried to relax her soul, she’d actually felt the nauseating sensation of her soul shifting in and out of her body. Shift
out
of her body. Without the grounding presence of her cousin, she’d … she … what had happened to her? Had that monster loosened the bond between her soul and her body? Would she die if she didn’t pay attention? What would happen if she fell asleep? She pressed her hands against her chest. Whatever had attacked her at the bookstore, whatever had happened was still happening.

Fire, Earth, and Air, how had she gotten into this situation?

She knew even though she didn’t want to say anything to Smoke.

She’d gone into that store, this situation, in the worst possible shape. She was over stimulated, exhausted, and … stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew better, had known better for years. She was a sensitive. Receptive to the flow of energy through the world, the universe and she’d neglected her protections.

She hadn’t celebrated the Sabbats, honored the cycle of the moon and sun or even reinforced her apartment’s protections since that horrible argument last Thanksgiving. She’d sabotaged herself, damn idiot. Allowed her frustration with both sides of the family to make her weak, vulnerable.

She’d avoided magic. All magic, both protective and proactive. When she was young and untrained it didn’t matter much that she didn’t reinforce her personal shield daily. She had her mother’s protection and later, her aunt’s. Now she was an adult they fully expected her not to be a moron and take care of herself.

Damn. No wonder the ghosts from the seventh floor had started hanging around her from the moment she entered the building each day. With her personal protections thinning they’d been coming round to feed from her energy. And she hadn’t noticed. It hadn’t helped, either. She’d been leaking strength, a little every day until … until she was vulnerable to the first piece of negative energy to come her way.

No wonder she’d lost her job. Anyone who was the least bit sensitive wouldn’t want her nearby.

No wonder she hadn’t sensed Smoke’s arrival in town, or his presence in her apartment building, until she was standing right on top of him.

She’d allowed herself to become mind-blind.

Then over-caffeinated and under-rested she’d walked into the den of a giant monster that she didn’t really believe in.

That took a special sort of stupid.

She sank back into the bed; in fact she had no choice. Her body was too weak to sustain such an exhausting emotional cocktail of frustration and despair. Her soul shifted again and she wrapped her arms around her body and concentrated on holding herself together.