34. Hudson
Blood.
There was blood on my hand. I’d given Faith a nosebleed, and for the longest moment, all I could do was stand there and gape stupidly at the bright red smear coating my thumb.
Finally, I shook my head, determined to deny it. I couldn’t hurt her, not the way I had Oaklynn. This had to be something else. But shit…
I looked up, feeling sick to my stomach, and Faith looked about as scared as I felt.
“I made you bleed,” I uttered, saying the only thing I could focus on before I started to back away.
“No.” Her eyes immediately filled with sympathy, and she shook her head as she reached out to catch me and draw me back to her. “Hudson.”
“Stay away!” I shouted, lifting my hand to ward her off, even as I ducked my face to the side as if my bloodsucking powers somehow came from my mouth or eyes.
Faith halted abruptly. Then she said my name again. “Hudson.” But there was less pity and more firm patience. “It’s okay.”
Blurting out an incredulous laugh, I shook my head. “How the fuck is this okay? I’m not supposed to be able to hurt you. You’re not Oaklynn. You don’t have…” The shaking of my head grew more insistent. “This is just all wrong.”
I gripped my head, overcome and unable to stop processing everything this meant.
I’d have to give up Faith now.
Leaving home and staying away from Oaklynn had sucked enough, but Faith… I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage that. After the short time we’d been together—fuck, after last night—I’d grown attached to her. I wasn’t ready to lose her yet.
“I need some answers,” I growled and started for the door, but not the door I usually used. I rushed to the exit that I knew led down into the shop below.
“Hudson, wait!” Faith hurried after me, intent on stopping me, but I was a man on a mission. I was making her bleed, and I needed to know why. Right now. I needed to make it stop.
I flung open the door and stormed down the steps.
It’d been years since I’d last entered Jezebel’s Nest, and a lot had changed, but I found the little old woman Keene had described easily enough. She was in the front, showing a trio of women a rack full of cauldrons and altars.
As I tripped to the bottom of the steps, probably resembling a madman in my haste, all four of them peered over at me in surprise.
I pointed up the steps, knowing Faith was right behind me. “I gave her a nosebleed.” The words poured out of me in shaky disbelief. “How the hell did I give her a nosebleed?”
The shop owner kept eye contact with me as she latched a gnarled, old hand around the shoulder of one of the customers. “I’m so sorry, ladies,” she announced, “but we’re going to have to close for an hour or so, if you don’t mind.”
“Uh…” The women glanced at each other in stunned confusion before turning back to Mirlande. “Are you serious?”
Lifting one eyebrow severely, she turned her attention to the speaker and answered, “You need to go. Now.”
The women hurried out, and I gripped my head as Mirlande returned her attention to me. As soon as the bell dinged overhead, I demanded, “How is this happening? She’s not like Oaklynn. She doesn’t have any supernatural powers. I shouldn’t be able to make her bleed.”
Somewhere in my head, I knew I should probably introduce myself first. “Hey, I’m Hudson. You’ve already talked to my friends about me. I’m that guy who’s possessed. Nice to meet you.” But I was too upset about what was happening to Faith to worry about all that.
And the shop owner didn’t seem to need introductory pleasantries anyway.
Peering past me to the base of the stairs, she sent Faith a stern, reprimanding glance. “Been keeping secrets from your twin flame, have you, chéri?”
“Secrets?” I whirled back toward Faith in question, and my stomach dropped in dread when I saw her expression. She had guilt plastered all over her face.
“Faith?” I asked hoarsely, already knowing she was about to flip my world on its axis with whatever she had to say.
“I…” She latched a hand around the railing of the staircase and took a step in reverse up the stoop.
“Faith can see ghosts too,” Mirlande finally announced, when Faith and I merely stood there, staring at each other for too many seconds without speaking.
“What?” I spun to gape at the old woman as she entered the middle area of the store with us and paused in front of the check-out counter. But then I whirled right back to Faith, and when tears filled her eyes, I lurched a step back. “Is that true? You’re a sensitive? You’re like Oaklynn?”
She pressed a hand to her chest and immediately shook her head. “No. Not like Oaklynn. I—I’m the opposite of Oaklynn. Where she draws ghosts to her, I scare them away.” Jabbing a finger into her chest, she told me, “Don’t you see? My abilities can’t hurt you. I made your head pressure go away when she made it get stronger. I sent Brett back into hiding inside you so he couldn’t take over. I helped you.”
I only shook my head as I focused on the red smear I could still see under her nose. “Then why is your nose fucking bleeding?”
Faith rushed to wipe the back of her hand across the area, while Mirlande calmly answered, “She may not be able to hurt you, boy, but you can still hurt her.” When I turned to her with a devastated glance, she nodded sadly. “The power your other friend uses to draw the ghosts to her is the same power that Faith uses to push it away.
“Dammit, dammit,” I seethed as I pinned Faith with an accusing glower. “You knew I was hurting you, that I was fucking killing you, and you didn’t think it was important enough to mention to me?”
“I—I thought I had more time,” Faith babbled helplessly. “You were around Oaklynn for two months before she got her first nosebleed.”
“But I didn’t sleep with Oaklynn!” I cried, throwing up my hands in aggravation. “She’s my friend, and we may be close, but we’re not as close as you and I are.”
Faith wiped at her wet eyes and hugged herself. “I just wanted to help you.”
“Help me?” I choked out a pained sob, unable to believe that she’d knowingly put herself in harm’s way because of me. “For the past ten and a half years, I’ve felt as if I killed the first friend I ever had. I didn’t push him. I didn’t egg him into jumping. I didn’t even want him to jump.” Digging a finger into my chest, I added, “Yet I’ve always felt responsible for it.” With an unsettled shake of the head, I asked, “What do you think it would’ve done to me if I’d killed you? If my presence had literally drained the life right out of you? Jesus, Faith.” I shook my head as my own eyes went a little moist. “How would that help me?”
“I…” Faith drew in a breath and swallowed audibly before croaking, “I’m sorry. I—I just…” With a defeated shake of the head, she sobbed, “I just wanted a little more time with you.”
My chin trembled, and everything inside my chest splintered with pain. “Well then, damn. Just…dammit.” I wanted to go to her so badly, I had to grip my own head to stop myself. I wanted to go to her and pull her into my arms and kiss all the torment away.
But I couldn’t.
It’d only hurt her more.
“I have to stay away from you now,” I realized in horror. “I have to stay away.”
It felt as if something was being ripped from my chest to admit that. Didn’t matter if I’d only recently met her. Faith had somehow dug her presence into me, and I hated the idea of being away from her.
At the staircase, she sat down on the steps and hugged herself, her tears streaming unrestrained.
Helpless loss filled me. I wanted to be mad at her. She should’ve told me. It hurt to realize she didn’t trust me with her secrets. But honestly, I’m not sure what knowing sooner would’ve done except keep me away from her sooner. And we wouldn’t have gotten last night together if she’d told me everything from the beginning.
I was glad we’d at least gotten last night. It sucked that there wouldn’t be anymore.
Not until I was sans Brett, anyway.
“How do I get him out?” I asked Mirlande. “How do I get the ghost out?”
She sent me a regretful glance, letting me know she didn’t have an answer I was going to like, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh!” she gasped as if someone had just pinched her.
From the stairs, Faith surged to her feet, gaping at me. “Holy shit!” she screeched. “What is she doing?”
“Pitit fi,” Mirlande gasped at me, clutching her chest in fear just as a strange sensation pressed against my rib cage.
“Whoa,” I said, bending at the waist and clutching my heart. It felt as if invisible hands were trying to crush my lungs like an empty pop can.
“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Faith chanted, rushing to my side and grabbing my arm. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t…” I shook my head and straightened as air slowly started to return to my lungs. “I think so,” I said, patting down my chest to be sure. “But what the fuck was that? And why did she call me daughter?”
When I pointed toward Mirlande, Faith blinked at me in confusion. “You know Haitian Creole?”
I shrugged. “A little. I dated a girl once who?—”
“Fabienne!” Mirlande scolded, shaking her finger at me. “You get out of that boy, right this instant!”
“Uh…what now?” I asked, only to turn to Faith and ask, “Did she just say Fabienne?”
Faith narrowed her eyes slightly. “Yes,” she hissed. “And also, yes, she does mean that Fabienne, the one you…” Trailing off, she glanced toward the older woman. “Fabienne was Mirlande’s granddaughter.”
“Ah.” I opened my mouth in surprise, only to shut it a moment later and decide. “That actually makes sense. But…” I furrowed my brow. “I thought Fabienne was…”
Dead.
When Mirlande sent me a sharp glance, I swallowed the rest of my comment.
Faith dryly answered for me anyway. “She is. But her ghost was sitting in that rocking chair when you came down the stairs.”
I glanced that way. “Wow. That’s not at all what I was expecting to hear.” Giving the chair a weak smile, I waved once. “Hey, Fabienne. Long time no see.”
“She’s not there anymore.” Faith rolled her eyes. “She…” Grimacing, she glanced at Mirlande for help.
And that’s when my sluggish brain finally caught up to speed. “She jumped inside me—with Brett,” I realized. “Didn’t she? Fabienne’s inside me right now.”
Faith winced again and then nodded to confirm it.
“Well…” I had no idea how else to accept such news, so I lifted a negligent shoulder and just rolled with it. “I guess turnabout’s fair play.”
Since I’d been inside her before.
“Hudson!” Faith gasped in censure as she smacked my arm and then sent a telling glance toward Mirlande, reminding me that I was standing in the presence of Fabienne’s grandmother.
I turned to apologize to the old woman, but an idea struck me. “Wait. How is this possible? I thought ghosts could only possess you upon their death.”
“But Fabienne had special abilities while she was alive,” Mirlande said. “Why would she not have special abilities in her death?”
“Oh.” I nodded. “I guess that makes—” A wave of dizziness assailed me. “Uhn.” I reached out blindly to steady myself as black spots danced in my vision.
“Hudson!” Faith cried as she grabbed my arm. Mirlande latched onto my other, and the two women somehow held me upright while it felt as if someone was blowing up a balloon inside my chest, hogging so much space in there that it was keeping all the other organs from doing their normal jobs.
Suddenly, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. I started to wonder if I was still alive until, bam, my chest heaved, filling with air; my sight returned, and my thighs lost their power, causing me to wilt to my knees.
Mirlande let go of me completely, and Faith took over, clutching both my shoulders and guiding me the rest of the way to the floor.
“Just breathe,” she ordered in a shaking voice. “Just breathe.”
“I am,” I managed to wheeze as I glanced up at her with what I hoped was a reassuring smile. But as soon as I got a look at her face, I scowled. “Your nose is bleeding again.”
“Forget my nose,” she blustered impatiently as she dashed the back of her hand across the blood to wipe it away. “Are you okay?”
“I…yeah.” I nodded. “I think so.”
In front of us, Mirlande wagged her finger sternly at the air as she scolded it. “What the devil were you thinking, just jumping into the boy like that? That was the most reckless, idiotic thing I ever saw, child.”
Faith leaned close to tell me, “Fabienne’s out of you again.”
I glanced at her affectionately, wishing I could nuzzle closer but knowing it would be too dangerous. “I figured.”
“She said she thought she could just hop in there and drag Brett out,” Faith translated with a whisper as the ghost and her grandmother apparently continued to argue.
“Oh.” My eyebrows lifted in interest over the idea. “Cool. Did it work?”
Faith shook her head, still watching the byplay in front of us. “She—oh!” Pulling back with a wince, she said, “I guess he bit her and pushed her out of you, saying you were his body.”
“He bit her?” I repeated with lifted eyebrows before I sighed with defeat. “Only I would draw the feral ghosts.”
Faith glanced at me sympathetically and wiped at her nose again, which was still bleeding. “I’m so sorry, Hudson. She said he could come out any time he wanted to; he just doesn’t want to.”
Disappointment raced through me. But none of this was her fault. “It’s okay,” I said, pushing my way to my feet. Faith rose with me, looking worried, but I held up a hand to ward her off because that nose was really starting to gush.
“I need to go,” I realized. “You…” I glanced toward Mirlande, hoping she’d help me take care of Faith’s nose, but then I saw that the old woman’s nose was beginning to bleed as well. “Fuck. I’m getting to both of you.” Lifting my hands in surrender, I started to back away. “I’m going. I’m going right now.”
Faith stepped toward me as if to stop me. But I glanced at her and shook my head. “Thank Fabienne for trying, will you? And…” My throat closed over. “I’ll see you again when this is over.”
“Hudson,” she started, but she obviously didn’t know what else to say. So she merely sent me a pathetic look, full of apology.
“I’ll see you again,” I swore. Then I hurried from the shop.
But as soon as I was outside, I had to clutch my heart and lean against the outer wall as I exhaled harshly. I wasn’t sure if it was the aftereffects of having two ghosts in me at once or the pain from leaving her, but I didn’t like it.
My whole chest fucking hurt.
Stumbling away from Jezebel’s Nest, I fumbled into my pocket for my phone and pulled it free with a sloppy yank.
Somehow, I found my text messages app and pulled up the group chat with my boys.
We had a code. When one of us was drowning in a personal crisis and required an extra emotional boost, we typed three little words—like our very own bat signal—and whoever was available would swarm to the rescue, providing whatever support that was needed.
I’d never called for reinforcements before, but I did now.
I need someone.