Chapter 2
BAZEL
This was less than ideal.
He finally found a bridge. In her younger years, she had nearly crossed the veil and lingered in its proximity. The scent of it clung to her.
Yes. She was the one.
Hope surged in him, an unfamiliar sensation that he was not quite sure what to do with, and she promptly got herself killed. That—bitter disappointment—was a close acquaintance, practically a friend.
Her death could be reversed, at a cost.
Bazel hesitated. He did not know this woman. Resurrecting her would drain his life force. While he was not a mortal such as she with a long life span, the energy required to resurrect her would be a sacrifice. He was already weakened. This would enfeeble him.
He stretched out a hand, nearly touching. Her soul glowed over her heart, wanting to leave her body and move on to whatever was next. He should let her depart. It was the natural order.
No. She was the one.
He needed her.
Bazel rested his hand on her heart and grabbed her soul. It was soft and pliable, curling around his hand. It was… nice. Comforting. Familiar. Words failed to describe the sensation of touching a stranger’s soul.
Bazel leaned down, his mouth to hers, and breathed out.
They were bound now.
His life was hers. Her life was his.
GERI
No. Not yet.
A voice called her back. Was it a voice? Yes, one she recognized. The haunted Victorian doll man.
Doll man?
“You came back. I knew you were close,” she said. Well, that’s what she thought she said. The connection between her mind and her body was currently out of service.
She didn’t mind. It was peaceful. All the sounds and touches and smells of the world that overwhelmed her senses were gone.
Dying wasn’t so bad. It was just her and her thoughts.
And the doll man, apparently. Why her dying brain conjured up him to comfort her in her last moment, she had no idea.
Death is temporary.
* * *
Geri’s consciousness rushed back into her body.
The noise of life—heartbeat, breath, blood pumping in her veins—was deafening.
Every touch against her skin was too much.
The air was too cold as it rattled out of the vents.
The sheets were scratchy. The hum of the overhead lights was too loud.
Machines constantly beeped. Voices came in from the halls. Shoes squeaked against the floor.
It was unbearable.
“Make it stop,” she said, her throat dry and rasping.
“She’s in pain. Can we do something about that?” a familiar voice asked.
Molly, her sister. Finally, a competent adult to take charge because Geri could not make good decisions on her own.
“Hey, I didn’t die after all.” At least that was what she meant to say. Geri had no control on what sounds came out of her mouth.
It didn’t matter. The darkness snatched her again.
* * *
“Your idea of humor is abuse.” Molly’s voice drew Geri back into consciousness, which was generally a mistake.
She was in a bed not her own with uncomfortably stiff sheets. Every part of her hurt but also felt detached, like a layer of the good stuff kept it tolerable. IV tubing attached to her arm. Machines beeped. The lights were painful.
Hospital. Had to be. No other place could be so unpleasant.
“Take it down or we will sue,” Molly said.
A pause. “Because I’m her lawyer. Yes, lawyers can represent family.
Listen. No, listen to me. Prank videos are not protected speech.
Take it down now or I will take every crumb you own.
Your house, your car, your sneakers and every bottle of that obnoxious spray tan. ”
Molly slammed her phone down and slumped into the chair next to the bed.
Geri blinked, trying to focus her eyes. Molly glowed. No, not metaphorically from a radiant personality—though Molly glowed like that too. Literally. Gold sparked along her skin, congregating at her hands and over her chest. It was a beautiful aura and 100% a hallucination.
That’s new. Had to be a side effect of hitting her head.
“You’ll break your phone,” Geri said. Her throat hurt. Her head hurt. Everything ached like she was one massive bruise and she was hallucinating auras.
Molly’s entire body perked up. “You’re awake. You have terrible taste in men, by the way.”
“We can’t all be lucky in love.” Geri tried to sit up but the room swam. Lying down seemed prudent. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
“You’re not fine.” Molly dragged the chair closer and grabbed Geri’s hand.
Her left arm was covered with a bandage, but the mottled purple-green edges of a bruise bled out from under the tape. She didn’t want to know how purple and green the rest of her was.
She squinted her eyes. The light was too bright and hurt her head. “Can we do something about the lights? It’s all… ugh.”
“Sure.” Molly moved to the controls by the door and dimmed the lights. Now they were surrounded by the glow of machines and the sunlight leaking in around the curtains.
“What happened? I mean, I know, but how bad is it?” Geri asked when her sister returned to her bedside.
“You’ve got a concussion and so much internal bleeding, you’re every shade of black and blue, and those are not your colors. You’re an autumn.”
“You get me,” Geri said with a huff of amusement. Pain spiked through her. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too much.”
“Your heart stopped,” Molly said.
“No.”
“For three minutes, you were technically dead.” She gasped as she said the last word, her voice quivering. She looked away, blinking rapidly to deal with her watering eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again! You’re all I have.”
They lost both their parents. Their mother died from cancer when they were still teenagers and their father from a heart attack a few years ago.
Fortunately, they had a large extended family.
More aunties than she could remember. Cousins in Philly and down south.
Geri knew she always had an invitation for the holidays or summer cookouts.
Plus she had her cat, Fiddlesticks. She’d never be alone, but it wasn’t the same as being able to hug her mom and dad.
“You have Anh,” Geri said, reaching for her sister’s hand. “How is she?”
“About to kick in the door with a snack box and boba tea.” A smile flickered across her face. She and Anh had been together since college and married for the last decade. “Don’t try to distract me with my hot wife. You really scared me.”
“It was an accident. I slipped.”
“It was a prank, and that ratbag put it on the internet.”
“Don’t call people names. It’s not nice.”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Your boyfriend put the whole thing on the internet.”
“He’s not going to be my boyfriend for long.”
“Good.”
“Fiddle—” she started to ask.
“Fed, watered, cleaned the box, and petted the little monster this morning. She had lots of opinions about management.”
“I bet.” Geri loved her cat but Fiddlesticks was a bit of a diva.
“You want some water or ginger ale?” Molly asked.
Geri nodded, which was a mistake. The room spun. “Yes. Anything.”
“Let me ask the nurse.”
Molly disappeared for a few minutes, possibly an hour. Geri had no way to judge time. Beyond the headache, she felt foggy and disconnected from the rest of her body. Molly eventually returned with a nurse, a turkey sandwich, and water.
The nurse—who had a pulsing blue and purple aura—checked her vitals and gave Geri a quick rundown of what was happening.
Essentially, the initial MRI showed massive internal bleeding and she could look forward to at least three days in hospital.
Factor infusions were going to happen on the regular until her numbers went up.
The rest of her was bruised—the regular kind, not the world-ending internal bleeding kind—and no broken bones, thankfully.
Her left ankle was sprained and needed to be elevated, not that she was getting out of the hospital bed anytime soon.
“What about seeing things?” Geri asked.
“Visual disturbances or hallucinations aren’t uncommon in the early stages of a recovery with a concussion. The doctor will discuss that with you during their rounds,” the nurse answered. “Are you seeing things?”
“Lights and colors mostly.” The auras were pretty and knowing they were temporary kept them from being alarming. Barely.
Geri demolished the sandwich after the nurse left. “How long was I out?” she asked between bites.
“You were in and out all Sunday night. It’s Monday morning now,” Molly said.
“You’re missing work.”
Molly gave her a look. “You’re more important.”
“The camera. Did I break it?”
“Safe and snug in its bag. Your phone, though, has a wicked crack.”
Geri sighed. Another bill. “It’s probably time to upgrade anyway.”
“Screw that. Getting the screen fixed is much cheaper than a new phone. Since you’re not looking at screens for a few days, I’ll get that taken care of.”
“No, I can’t have you spending your money—”
“My money?” Molly gave a sharp bark of a laugh. “I’m sending the bill to that ratbag.”
Geri almost laughed at the silly word. Once, when she was young and feeling too big for her britches, she called someone a douchebag in front of her mom.
That piece of vocabulary earned her a swift swat to said britches and a week without television.
No TV was bad, but her mother’s disappointment at such unimaginative crassness was worse.
Namecalling was fine as long as Geri and Molly did it with flair.
Thus, the ratbag was born.
“Can I see the ratbag’s video?” Geri knew she shouldn’t but she needed to know. She needed to confirm that Jaxon had done such an awful, thoughtless thing to her.
Molly looked like she would rather destroy her phone than show her the video.
“If you don’t show it to me, I’m just going to watch it on my phone.” Once she found it.
“Fine. The nurse said to limit your screen time, so you only watch it once.”
Molly queued up the video. Geri appeared with Jaxon on the screen. The video was shaky and Jaxon’s voice was far too loud as he shouted at the camera, his arm over her shoulder. Then spiders. Geri jumped in surprise and then she was gone.
Vanished.