The Awakening of Sunshine Girl (The Haunting of Sunshine Girl) (15 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Real Luiseach Work

T
hat night, while Lucio is out scouring the countryside for a demon and Aidan is holed up in his lab, I decide to do something productive for a change. I take the stuffed owl down into the backyard. I hold it up to the sky. I must keep Anna from going dark. I
will
keep Anna from going dark. But no matter how hard I concentrate, I can’t find her. The tropical air remains warm on my skin; my heart maintains its steady beat.

Maybe she doesn’t want to be found, like the spirit Lucio is hunting.

Thunder rumbles in the distance. We’re in for a storm. Warm rain begins to fall, drenching my skin and hair. But I don’t stop, not even when lightning illuminates the night sky. I stand up to my ankles in mud, my arms aching from holding the owl out in front of me. The rain passes and the sky clears, and all the while, I stand my ground.

I’m in the same spot when Lucio finds me at dawn. Not that I’m still upright. I must have sat at some point, must have
hugged the owl to me like a Teddy bear, must have fallen asleep beneath the night sky.

“You’re covered in mud,” Lucio says.

I shrug.

“Come with me.” He puts his hand in mine and pulls me to my feet.

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

I shake my head. “Aidan is expecting me,” I protest, trying to pull my hand out from his, but his grip is firm. No matter how many muscles I may have built up here in Mexico, I’m definitely not as strong as this guy.

“You need a day off from the lab. Yesterday you looked like you didn’t know how much more of this you could take.”

“That was before . . .” I begin, trailing off.

“Before what?”

I bite my lip. “Before I realized just how important this work was.”

“You mean before you realized my parents died to protect you,” Lucio counters bluntly. I don’t know what to say, so I just look down. My newly muscled legs are tan, popping out from beneath my homemade denim cut-offs.

“I told you it wasn’t your fault.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”

“Yes,” Lucio says firmly. “It
is
that simple. Besides, if you keep going like this, you’re not going to be strong enough to make any progress in Aidan’s lab anyway.”

Lucio leads the way to the playground. I finally understand why it’s called that. My lessons may have been hard, but when they
were actually successful, they were also kind of
fun
. At least, they were certainly more fun than anything I’ve been doing since.

“Today you’re going to help me do some real luiseach work.”

“What’s that?”

“You know I’ve been tracking the spirit that escaped.” I nod. “I still haven’t found him. But I figure between the two of us, we might be able to get him.”

“Between the two of us?” I echo.

“Our combined strength,” Lucio explains. “You and Aidan hadn’t gotten to this lesson—it’s a little advanced, but . . .”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” I suggest.

“Something like that,” Lucio agrees. “Remember when Aidan held your hands and watched you work?”

“Of course,” I answer. I also remember the name of the spirit I helped move on that day: Eddie Denfield. The girl he loved was Meghan Waters.

“Well, today we’re going to take that one step further.”

I raise my eyebrow.

“There’s strength in numbers,” Lucio explains.

It’s worth a try. If it fails, then at this point, really, what’s one more failure? But if we succeed . . . then maybe together we’ll find not only this one missing spirit but eventually Anna too.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Tell me what to do.”

Lucio holds his arms out. “Take my hands.” His hands are warm in mine. I can feel the calluses on his palms from where he grips Clementine’s handles. “Close your eyes,” Lucio instructs, and I do. “His name was Michael Weir. He lived in San Antonio, Texas, and taught algebra at the local high school.” Lucio adjusts his grip on my hands, and for just a second I see a flash of a man’s face.

I gasp, opening my eyes and dropping Lucio’s hands. I’m able to see my fellow luiseach standing across from me, and there is no chill, no quickening pulse—nothing to indicate that a spirit is near. “How could I see him?” I ask breathlessly.

“You were seeing what I’ve seen,” Lucio explains. “I’ve been close to his spirit before, close enough to see the details of his life. Now you need to know exactly what we’re looking for so we can combine our powers.”

“Does that mean you could see what I was thinking of?” Lucio nods.

“A little girl with dark hair and black eyes.”

“Her name was Anna,” I supply. “She was Victoria’s daughter. I’ve been trying to get her to move on, but I can’t seem to reach her.”

“I know about Anna,” Lucio says. “And the time isn’t right for her yet.”

“What do you mean the time isn’t right?” I argue. “If we wait too long—”

“This won’t work if you’re thinking about Anna!” Lucio practically shouts. Even when he told me about his parents, he didn’t look this distressed. “We need to think of Michael Weir and only Michael Weir.”

“I can’t just abandon—”

“This is one of the most important lessons you’ll learn. This is an enormous part of how we protect humans—finding spirits before they turn dark. Time is running out for Michael Weir. Do you understand?”

I’ve never heard Lucio so worked up. Not when he was arguing with Aidan on my first night here, not even when he was worried I might go into hypothermic shock. So I nod. “The best defense is a good offense,” I say drily.

Lucio nods. “Exactly.”

I take his hands in mine and close my eyes. “Let’s try again.”

This time, when the image of Michael Weir flashes into my consciousness, I’m ready for it. There are a thousand tiny cuts on his face where the glass from his car window rained down on him. He was teaching his niece to drive, and neither of them saw the tractor-trailer running the red light up ahead. He never had any children of his own, but he loved his niece like she was his daughter. He helped her with their math homework every night. She survived the accident, but she hasn’t gotten over it. She thinks her beloved uncle’s death was her fault. He died the instant the truck hit their little compact car, and Aidan drew Michael Weir’s spirit here almost as soon as it left his body. He trapped it in his lab, where it had time to grow frustrated. To grow desperate. It wanted to linger long enough to tell the girl it wasn’t her fault.

But spirits who linger rarely get a chance to actually finish their unfinished business.

His spirit escaped from Llevar la Luz weeks ago and has been trying to get back to Texas. But it’s disoriented; it doesn’t know which way is north. It doesn’t know the difference between night and day.

Everywhere the spirit looks, it sees only fire.

Now I do open my eyes. “We’re too late,” I say breathlessly.

“What do you mean?”

“His spirit’s already gone dark.”

Lucio opens his eyes. “How can you tell?”

“I saw fire.” Thanks to Victoria, I know that there are different kinds of demons. The demon I defeated on New Year’s Eve was a water demon, vanquished by fire. It drowns its victims,
taking strength from the energy released when they die. She told me about earth demons, who tend to bury their victims alive.

And she told me about fire demons, who can burn their victims to death, sometimes from the inside out. Suddenly it hits me like a blowtorch to the brain. That man in the parade bursting into flames, the red demon that smelled like gasoline, that was Michael Weir’s spirit! Lucio didn’t recognize him because he had already turned. I didn’t know about him at the time so I couldn’t put the pieces together.

“Close your eyes. Concentrate. What else do you see?”

I squeeze Lucio’s hands in mine. “I see . . . a village. Or the remains of one. It’s already burning.” The demon is already so much stronger than it was that night. Now, instead of a single person, it’s setting a whole town on fire.

“What does the place look like?” Lucio asks desperately. “Anything to help me identify it.”

“Stucco buildings . . . no more than one-room shacks, really. They have thatched roofs, and the jungle vines grow up and around them. But half the roofs are burning now.”

Lucio tightens his grip. “What else?”

“There’s a wheelbarrow with a name on it. I can’t quite . . .” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to make out the letters before they catch fire. “Lado Selva,” I say finally.

Before I know it, Lucio is pulling me down the hill, shouting Aidan’s name.

“Lucio!” I shout. “What’s Lado Selva?”

“It’s the name of a town,” he says without turning around to look at me. “It comes from
al lado de la selva
.”

“What does that mean?”

“Beside the jungle. It’s a tiny little town in the jungle.”

He shouts Aidan’s name again as we emerge into the courtyard. But the black SUV isn’t out front like usual.

“He must have gone into town for supplies.” Lucio throws his hands up in frustration. “He could still be back in time to—”

“Lucio!” I interrupt. “There isn’t any time to wait. We have to get to those people
now
.”

Lucio runs his fingers along his cropped hair, his tattoo practically iridescent in the sunlight. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough—I’ve never faced a demon in full force.”

“Then today’s your lucky day,” I say, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out the knife. “Because I have.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The Town on Fire

L
ucio gasps, “Where did you get that?” He reaches out and holds the weapon, turning it over in his hands.

“Victoria gave it to me. I used it for my test.”

“Do you know how rare these are?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Aidan invented them, years ago. He only had enough power to make five of them.”

It’s the first time I’ve heard much about the kind of work he did before the rift, back when he was a respected and powerful luiseach. I wonder what else he created before I came along and changed everything. “He must have given one to Victoria.”

“And then she gave it to you.”

Lucio places the knife in my palm and closes my fingers over it. “Come on.” He grabs a helmet from his handlebars and puts it on my head, smashing the frizzball.

I swing one leg over Clementine and lean against Lucio when he sits down in front of me. I feel the sweat on his back
through our T-shirts—his covered in orange and white stripes while mine is bright green—but it doesn’t gross me out. Instead, I lean against him, holding him tight. I don’t want to face what we’re about to face alone.

As the bike’s engine roars to life, Lucio looks back at me with concern. “You ready to do some real luiseach work?” I can tell he’s not sure we can handle this, but he’s determined to try.

I nod. I will help fill the gap in his confidence. My fingertips are tingling, there are butterflies in my stomach, and my breath is coming quick and short. It takes me a second to recognize it, but it’s undeniable: I’m exhilarated.

I hold tight as we drive, squinting in the sunlight. I glance around furtively as we ride along, as though I think Helena might jump out at any second, hiding behind the trees with their enormous leaves.

There would be a million places to hide in this jungle.

But the trees around us are empty. Lucio veers to the right so suddenly, I have to dig my fingers into his rib cage to keep from falling. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, and soon we are breathing in unison.

I feel the town before I see it. I mean, I feel the heat of a place on fire. The taste of smoke fills my throat. I can barely breathe.

The town appears before us as suddenly as a mirage. The road widens, and there are dilapidated stucco structures on either side of us, not one more than a single story high. The only colors are the brown dirt at our feet, the blue sky above us, and the orange fire in between, climbing so high that it all but blocks out the green of the surrounding trees.

Lucio turns off the bike.

People are rushing from one building to another, trying to douse the flames, desperate to keep their town from burning to dust. Their wretched shouts fill the air, even thicker than the smoke.

“Don’t worry,” Lucio says suddenly, jumping off the motorcycle. “You’re safe here.”

I must look at him like he’s speaking Japanese—safe, with the flames rising higher and higher and a demon who should not have been able to turn dark in the first place, just waiting to fight us off? I mean, I know that technically a demon can’t kill me, but I wouldn’t exactly call this
safe
. “I didn’t mean
that
,” Lucio adds quickly. “I mean we’re still technically on land that’s part of Llevar la Luz. Helena can’t get to you, even here.” No wonder the trees we passed were empty. I wonder just how big Llevar la Luz is.

“Do these people know
why
their town is on fire?” I have to shout to be heard over the roar of the flames. We walk further into town. Hot ashes float down around us like snowflakes from hell.

“Not exactly,” Lucio answers. “This town has been here for centuries. Its inhabitants have passed down story after story of the strange things going on at the campus in the jungle.”

“They know about us?”

“Let’s just say that around here they have a deeply held respect for the afterlife.”

“But nothing like this has ever happened before,” I insist. “You said spirits don’t usually turn dark this close to the equator.” A hot wind kicks up and swirls around us as the townspeople desperately try to squelch the flames.

“I know. Things are different now.”

“Aidan thinks the difference might be me. But what if it’s the growing darkness?”

Lucio cocks his head to the side. “It might be. This never used to happen. And like I said, it’s become more organized recently. Plus, Aidan has a theory that there’s someone, something who sensed the rift in the luiseach community and is using that weakness to summon dark spirits.” My heart nearly stops.
Organized. Weakness. Rift.

“This all started when I was born, didn’t it?” Maybe it doesn’t matter whether the spirits are behaving differently because of me or because of the growing darkness. Maybe one is connected to the other.

Lucio looks at me, knowing I’m not going to like his answer. “Over the last sixteen years Aidan’s detected a shift among spirits. He doesn’t know what it means yet, but he’s certain there’s a pattern.”

“What kind of pattern?”

“Dark spirits and demons are growing stronger.”

I bet Nolan could have helped figure out the pattern. I can only imagine how different all of this would be if he had been here with me since the beginning, performing research for Aidan, trying just as hard as Aidan to find answers. Maybe he would have even found some.

“Can you sense the demon?” he asks. I nod. Lucio stops dead in his tracks. Despite the flames growing ever higher around us, Lucio and I feel a cool breeze coming from down the road.

Lucio starts walking in the direction of the chill, and I follow, placing my feet in the dusty footprints his steps leave behind. Even though he’s not much taller than I am, his feet are bigger than mine, and I feel like a little kid every time I place one of
my sneakers in the spot where his dust-covered boot was seconds before. Lucio’s wearing shorts, and instead of looking at where we’re going, I’m watching the muscles in his calves flex and release with each step. He certainly looks strong enough to confront a demon.

When he stops, I practically crash into him.

“In there,” Lucio whispers, nodding in the direction of a squat stucco building on our left. It’s so small that it can’t possibly have more than one room. An icy breeze blows its splintered wooden door open, bringing a wall of smoke along with it, despite the fact that it’s the only building in sight that isn’t actually on fire. The door bangs against the tiny building with a loud crash as goose bumps rise on my sweaty skin.

“Why did the demon choose this town?” I ask. “These people are completely helpless.”

“Exactly,” Lucio says. “The same way we gather strength from helping spirits move on, a demon gathers strength from destroying spirits.”

Despite the breeze coming from the darkness just a few steps away, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hot. Somewhere inside a man screams in pain. I grab Lucio’s hand, and we head toward the door.