Soul Catcher (18 page)

“Just making sure we’re alone. Strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to be in this wing. East is the boy’s wing. Us girls sleep in the west wing.”

“Then how have you been here before?”

“Ghost showed me when he showed Sam,” she whispered. She pulled the door to the stairwell open. “All clear. Come on.”

He followed her over the threshold and was instantly stunned by the colors and textures that surrounded them in the stairwell. “What is this?”

“Murals,” she said. “By past Soulkeepers.”

At the base, the wall was covered in drawings that looked like cave paintings. The art progressed through various time periods and mediums, ending in neon colored hearts, peace signs, and flowers at the top. Dane gawked at the portrait of an African teen painted in pointillism halfway up the wall. A jagged scar marred the boy’s face. Framed by flames composed of red, orange, and yellow dots, the boy’s eyes seemed to cut right through him. Who had he been? When had he lived?

“Look here,” Bonnie said, pointing to a mural of a Native American boy riding on the back of a spotted pony. Behind him, pueblos topped a red mesa. The boy was depicted shooting light out of his palm at a gathering of Watchers.

“Wow. He’s not the first. I need to show this to Cheveyo.” With some effort, Dane opened the steel door at the back of his mind. “Cheveyo? Are you there? You’ve got to see this!”

The other Soulkeeper stirred.
I’m here
, Cheveyo said, after a long pause.
You’ve got to stop closing the door. Every time you lock me out, it’s harder to come back.

“Wake up. You’ve got to see this!”

The moment Cheveyo saw the mural, relief and acceptance flowed through Dane’s body. Those weren’t his emotions. When Cheveyo was loose inside his head, his memories, his thoughts seemed almost as real as Dane’s. Now, his fingers stretched toward the drawing, under Cheveyo’s control, and the Hopi boy’s desire to connect with this place warmed his blood.

“I’m not sure you should touch it,” Dane said. “You don’t want to damage it.”

I’m not the first. How old do you think this is, Dane?

“I have no idea.”

“No idea about what?” Bonnie asked.

“Oh, I’m talking to Cheveyo. He was wondering how old this is?”

“I’m not sure. At least a thousand years.”

“One thousand years?” Dane turned to face Bonnie on the landing, and hell if Cheveyo didn’t see her too. For the first time, Dane was embarrassingly aware of how her jeans rode low on her hip, and he appreciated her snug t-shirt in an entirely new way. These had to be Cheveyo’s feelings. Dane had no attraction to Bonnie other than friendship. The allure felt real, though, and familiar. His body reacted to Bonnie the way it always reacted to Ethan, a reflexive comparison that nagged at him like something he’d forgotten to do.

“You’re so hot,” Cheveyo mumbled through Dane’s lips. Luckily, the words came out rushed and hopefully indistinguishable.

“What?” Bonnie asked.

“Nothing,” Dane said.

She smiled and took a small step toward him, and didn’t that just set Cheveyo off. Dane pinned his hands behind his back on the stair rail to keep from acting on Cheveyo’s impulses. He wanted to touch her, and he wanted it desperately.

“Because it sounded like you said I was hot,” Bonnie whispered.

Dane shook his head. “Cheveyo— He thinks you’re hot.”

Another step closer, Bonnie placed her hands on the railing on either side of his hips. Her breath warmed his face. “Thank you, Cheveyo,” she said with a lopsided grin.

And then, she kissed him. The slant of her mouth came down hard on his, surprising Dane right out of his head. But that was okay because Cheveyo was there to take over. One hand found the small of her back, and the other fisted into her hair. Dane had a few seconds of experiencing how much Cheveyo was enjoying the kiss before he regained enough control to know he wasn’t. In fact, the absolute wrongness of what was happening made his stomach turn. She was too soft and smelled like his grandma. He wrestled Cheveyo for control, trying his best to shut the steel door again. Only Cheveyo refused to go willingly. The mutual attraction between the two was giving the Soulkeeper exceptional strength.

Dane upped his efforts. Planting his hands on Bonnie’s hips, he pushed her away. She stumbled back.

Oh, come on!
Cheveyo’s severe disappointment rattled through Dane’s limbic system. He closed his eyes and slammed the steel door. When he opened them again, Ethan was watching from the top of the staircase. How long had he been there? He edged past Bonnie, taking the stairs two at a time.

“Hey!” Bonnie yelled.

Dane ignored her. “Ethan, wait!”

Ethan’s black t-shirt disappeared through the door to the second floor. Dane didn’t have time to think about the consequences. Free of Cheveyo’s thoughts, everything inside compelled him to follow.

Zap!

“E
than, stop!” Dane called. “Let me explain!”

Ethan paused in front of the door to his room, staring at the panel of wood as if he could disappear into the grain. “I’ve stopped. What is it you’d like to say to me?”

“What you think you saw just now, between Bonnie and me, wasn’t what it looked like.”

He pivoted, brown eyes darkening to almost black when he met Dane’s gray ones. “Really? Because clearly, you were making out with Bonnie.”

With a deep sigh, Dane put his hands on his hips. “It wasn’t me.”

Swaying dramatically, Ethan shook his head. “That’s right, your evil twin broke into Eden and shoved his tongue down Bonnie’s throat.”

“No, listen…” Dane rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “It was me okay, but it was Cheveyo who wanted to do it. I’d given him control.”

Ethan groaned and approached his door again. He didn’t turn the knob.

“So, ah, are we okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Ethan kept his eyes on the doorknob. “I told you, it’s okay for you to be who you are, whatever that is. I’ll be your friend no matter what.”

A huff of breath broke from Dane’s lips. “Yeah, you said that, but your body language says something else. You’re acting pissed, Ethan. I want to fix this. Talk to me.”

Ethan’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I wasn’t completely honest.”

“Yeah?” Dane leaned against the wall, hugging his chest. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to poke this rattlesnake. This was dangerous territory.

“Yeah.” Ethan turned and paced toward him until the smallest of spaces remained between them. Dane pressed into the wall, heart heading for track practice again. “From the first time I saw you lying in that hospital bed…the way you looked at me as if I could make everything better…you’ve made me want to
be
better. I’ve spent countless hours in Lillian’s dojo getting stronger, and when I’m tired and think I can’t fight her off one more time, I think of you, and somehow I do. I have
feelings
for you. More than friendship. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d be your friend no matter what. But it’s hard, Dane, because I
am
jealous. I’m jealous as hell.”

God, his eyes were stormy, almost feral. Dane swallowed hard, trembling from the intensity of the moment.

Ethan slammed his hand into the wall. “Damn it! I’m sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I didn’t want to put you in this position. Forget I ever said anything.” He turned on his heel and strode back to his room, this time throwing the door open.

“Ethan,” Dane called.

He paused in his doorframe. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t like kissing her,” Dane whispered. “Not at all.”

Ethan poked his head back into the hall and raised his eyebrows. “Not at all?”

Dane shook his head slowly. A thick electrical charge pulsed between them. The air seemed to crackle, and for the first time, Dane wasn’t afraid of what that might mean.

Just then, the door to the stairwell flew open, and Gideon stepped into the hallway, a blanket and pillow in his arms. “Oh good, I was looking for you, Dane. We’ve got a room for you right down here. Come on, I’ll get you set up.”

“Okay.” Dane’s feet wouldn’t move, and his eyes were glued on Ethan.

“Ah, this way,” Gideon said again.

And just like that, the moment was gone. Dane blinked. “Okay. Um, goodnight, Ethan.” He followed Gideon to the last room on the left.

“Goodnight.” Ethan’s door clicked shut behind him.

* * * * *

“Come on sleepy head. Time to train.” Lillian’s voice was almost as annoying as the way she shook his shoulder hard enough to knock him out of bed.

“What time is it?” Dane blinked his eyes, noting the dim light outside his window.

“Sunrise. Around 6:30 I think. If we start now, we can get an hour in before breakfast.”

Dane groaned, remembering the night before, kissing Bonnie, and opening up to Ethan. He wasn’t ready to face them again. He plastered his face into his pillow.

“Up, warrior,” Lillian scolded. “I want you dressed and in my dojo in ten minutes.”

Before Dane could protest, the pillow was yanked from under his head and his blanket from his body.”

“Hey!” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Ten minutes, Dane, or I’ll show you no mercy.” She left the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound pounded through his brain.

“Hmm. Not sure this Soulkeeper stuff is all it’s cracked up to be.” He stood, pulled a soft gray t-shirt over his head, and changed into a pair of shorts. A quick bathroom stop and he jogged down the stairs to Lillian’s classroom. Briefly, he considered that he should let Cheveyo out. He wasn’t sure what kind of damage he caused the guy keeping him locked in the dark recesses of his brain, but after last night, he didn’t trust him. Cheveyo was too impulsive. He couldn’t risk giving him control again.

He shoved his way through the door, pausing just inside the sanded wood floor of the dojo. Lillian waited, looking impatient.

“You made it,” she said. “Showing up is half the battle.”

He nodded. “Where do we start?”

“I’ve already taught you some basic defensive techniques. Today, we are going to practice those techniques with your new Soulkeeper speed and reflexes.”

Dane approached cautiously, standing on the spot she indicated. She began with the basics. He swept his arm up to block her punches, or down to thwart her kicks. Aside from a few bruises, he was doing well, or at least holding his own. She attempted a chokehold. He thrust his hands between hers and knocked them away as she’d taught him. All the moves they’d practiced before, she showed him again, only faster, in Soulkeeper speed.

“You’re doing very well. I want to take it to the next level.”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to attack you. Trust your Soulkeeper instincts and defend yourself. No rules, no choreographed moves. Simply respond.”

Damn
. Not good. Dane was no stranger to a good fight, but Lillian had some mad skills. He wasn’t ready.

She showed no mercy. With a low-slung knife, she attacked. He slapped her hand away with his hand and countered with a jab. She ducked and side-kicked his thigh just above the knee. His legs gave out. He rolled onto his back, somersaulting to his feet. Stabbing downward, Lillian’s knife plunged straight for his head. He moved to block her, but instead of pushing her away, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in closer.

Zap!
A shockwave traveled through both of them, almost painful, and left a tingling sensation in its wake. The knife dropped from Lillian’s hand. With lightning fast speed, Dane caught the falling blade, flipped it over, and stabbed back at her. His attempt was purposefully slow, meant for her to have time to get out of the way. But she didn’t. The blade sank into her shoulder with the sickening crunch of metal on bone.

Her eyes grew wide before a shrill cry navigated her throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dane yelled. Blood oozed over the hilt, over his fingers. He was afraid to pull the blade out, in case it might do more damage than good. “Help! Someone help!” Carefully, he lowered her body to the floor and bolted into the hall, relieved when Archibald materialized in front of him. “Archibald, I need Gideon or Dr. Silva now! Please. Lillian’s been hurt.”

To Archibald’s credit, mere seconds passed before Dr. Silva came flying down the stairs, Gideon close behind.

“In the weapon’s room. She’s hurt,” Dane yelled.

He followed them back to Lillian who had pulled the knife out herself and was bleeding all over the floor. She moaned as Gideon pressed his hand over the wound.

“We need Malini,” he said. “It’s deep.”

“Call her. Use the stones,” Abigail said. She took over applying pressure to the wound while Gideon raced from the room.

“How did this happen, Dane?” Abigail asked accusingly. Her cornflower blue eyes bore into him.

“We were practicing. She attacked me, and she dropped the knife. I caught it and stabbed at her… slow. She should have been able to move out of the way, but she didn’t. I’m so sorry.” Nausea swept through him as he thought of the knife sinking into her flesh.

“That’s impossible. She’s a Soulkeeper; her gift is weapons. She has never, ever dropped a knife.”

Dane wrapped his arms around his chest and stared guiltily at Lillian. “Um, well, this time she did.”

Abigail must have sensed the honesty in his voice because she frowned as she looked back at Lillian.

“Dane, go wait in my office. I’ll take care of this. Malini will be here soon.” It was not a request.

He nodded and backed out the door.

Soul Catcher

M
alini leaned over Lillian in the infirmary, pressing a small brown hand against the ugly wound in her shoulder. Worry lines creased her forehead. The burn of healing would pass; Gideon stood by with a pitcher of water. Her concern was for Lillian, and what she couldn’t sense under her skin.

The stab injury knit itself closed from the inside out and pinked beneath Malini’s touch. Healing was painful work. It never got easier. The results, however, were worth the sacrifice. Lillian’s shoulder looked as good as new, although, this time, Malini sensed her cure was only skin deep. She plunged her arm into the soothing water.