Chapter 3 #2
“Thank fuck,” he says, and a laugh bursts from me. It’s kind of weird to hear someone who looks like they should be singing to animals in a forest swear like that.
“How’re you feeling?” I ask, going to sit beside him on the couch. It’s a little intimate, considering we don’t know each other, but we’re about to get a whole lot more intimate.
“Bored. We tried watching TV, but the thing was too interested. So I’ve mostly been sleeping and talking quietly, but not about anything good because it likes gossip.”
“It’ll be over soon,” I assure him, searching for the signs that he might be a conduit. It’s hard to tell with the body-hopper in him, blurring things. “Do you mind if I hold your hand for a second?”
He shrugs. “That’s the most interesting thing to have happened in days.
” He puts his hand in mine as Josh and the woman join us.
“I’d really appreciate if you could get rid of this thing ASAP.
Like, in time for lunch. Because I’m living on dry toast, plain rice, and unseasoned boiled vegetables.
We tried grilled chicken and steamed vegetables, but apparently they’re too flavorful.
As are scrambled eggs, even without salt.
Do you know what scrambled eggs without salt tastes like? ”
“Egg?” I ask absently, probing with my power. There’s no mistake; he’s a conduit. A strong one too. No wonder the body-hopper picked him.
“Gross,” he corrects. “I always thought grilled chicken and scrambled eggs were plain foods, but apparently they’re not plain enough unless they have absolutely no seasoning.”
“The body-hopper isn’t used to being able to taste at all.” I let go of his hand. “Want to get this done now?”
His whole face lights up, and then in the next second, his eyes flash red. I should have expected that—so much emotion was bound to call the spirit forth.
“Who are you?” it asks. I’ve always been fascinated by the way these spirits can ask questions with absolutely no curiosity.
Josh makes a growling noise, and I flick him a quelling look. He’s going to need to learn to stay calm if he wants to stay sane. Sure, he cares about his friend, but getting all worked up isn’t going to help Skye.
“My name’s Connor,” I tell the spirit. “What’s your purpose?”
“To feel,” it replies immediately. That’s a good sign—the ones with dreams of megalomania usually try to be sneaky.
“It’s not polite to take up residence in someone’s body without permission,” I chide it, and Skye’s body heaves a sigh.
“You plan to expel me. I will be doomed to wander alone.”
“No, you won’t. I’m going to return you to the otherworld.” At least there it will be able to communicate with others of its kind. Eternity wandering in silence, with no sensation, hoping to find a body to inhabit is the kind of cruelty I try to avoid.
It meets my gaze, hesitating, then nods once. Not that I need its permission, but it’s easier without having to fight every step of the way.
I turn to Josh. “Watch what I do, but I’m warning you now, don’t play with this stuff. Some you’ll be able to do; some will drain the last drops of your life force and leave you an empty husk.”
His eyes widen, and he swallows hard before nodding. He’s a strong medium, but he’s not a hunter, and I don’t want him to injure himself. Not to mention the damage he could cause by half-assing some of this stuff.
Since the body-hopper has consented to being expelled, I won’t need my kit. This will only take a few minutes. It would be even easier if we were up at the gateway, but I’m not going to suggest moving. I sense that’s going to be a whole other battle, and I want to get this one settled first.
Calling up my power, I reach into Skye, trying not to take notice of anything I shouldn’t.
This is so invasive, but there’s no way to avoid it, so I just keep my mental eyes averted as much as possible.
The body-hopper is waiting, and true to its word, it’s mostly detached itself from Skye’s body already.
It can’t leave on its own unless there’s another body ready for it to move into or the body it’s in is in danger of imminent destruction.
Not death—the body-hopper doesn’t need a living host. Its presence will keep the body alive even after the person it used to be is brain dead, their soul gone.
But it can’t survive total dismemberment, cremation, or the like.
And outside those two circumstances, it can’t leave its host body without assistance. I wind a gentle net around it and slowly withdraw, pulling it free of Skye. If it had resisted, this process would be a lot more complicated.
Skye gasps and slumps, blinking dazedly as the spirit and I exit him.
“Oh my god,” the woman, whose name I still don’t know, whispers, her eyes on the spirit.
With my net wrapped around it, it’s actually visible to the human eye, a wisp of ruby-colored smoke about the size of a baby’s fist. I don’t waste time, opening a tiny gateway and shoving the body-hopper through, net and all.
It will leave me feeling tired, but it’s faster and easier, has less chance of going wrong, and will give the spirit some residual sensation to enjoy for a while.
Then I close the gateway and suck in a deep breath.
“Done.” I glance at Skye. “How do you feel?”
“Weirdly empty.” He blinks slowly. “Better, though.”
“The emptiness will pass quickly. You might feel a bit shaky until then.” I start to get up, but he grabs my arm.
“Am I dying?” His eyes are wide now, pleading with me for the truth.
“We’re all dying,” I say, pulling free and standing. I stretch to hide the little wobble—maybe I shouldn’t have sent so much energy with the spirit. “But no, you don’t have a terminal disease. You’re a conduit.”
“What does that mean?” the woman demands, even as she and Skye break out in wide, relieved grins. Josh also seems relieved, but there’s a shadow in his gaze as he studies me.
“I’m Connor,” I tell her, and she has the grace to blush.
“Arissa. Sorry, we’re all on the back foot at the moment.
And it’s Friday.” As though reminded of an appointment, she checks her watch, then turns an apologetic look on Skye.
“I have to get back to the kitchen. But you’re getting a real lunch today, I promise. No more vegetable goop and bland rice.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” Skye declares wholeheartedly.
She kisses the side of his head and aims for the door. “You’ll need to fill me in later. I’ll tell Kieran what happened.”
“Tell him I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Josh calls after her as she leaves.
“I can work,” Skye tells him. “I feel fine. A tiny bit tired, maybe, but lunch will help.”
Josh looks at me. “Does he need to rest? It’s just… it’s Friday.”
Friday clearly has special meaning here.
“He’s fine. If he feels up to it, he can do it. What happens on Friday?”
“We get busy,” Skye says, swinging his legs off the couch and standing.
He stretches hard. “Man, that feels good. Weekends are chaos here, starting on Thursday afternoon and not letting up until Monday morning. It would be bad if I couldn’t work this weekend.
” He smiles up at me. “So, thanks. I owe you big.”
I smile back. “You have no idea. Congratulations on being so self-fulfilled that you’re a conduit. Unless you want this to happen again, you’re going to need some training.”
It’s almost comical how fast his face falls. “It could happen again?”
“I think you need to explain this whole conduit thing,” Josh adds. “And, uh… what exactly happened with the body-hopper? I saw you pull it out of Skye, and then you, uh, opened w-what looked like… um, a vortex of some kind? And pushed it through. And closed it.”
If Josh’s sudden fit of stammering wasn’t enough to clue me in that something is going on, the way Skye’s whole body jerks at the word “vortex” would have done it. Of course, I already know they have an open gateway on the property, but it’s good to know neither of them is any good at subterfuge.
“That’s right.”
The silence drags out as they realize that’s all I intend to say.
“Where did the vortex go?” Skye ventures at last. “The body-hopper can’t come back, can it?”
I shrug. “They can only get to Earth through gateways like the one I used to send it back.”
For the first time since I arrived, the ghosts stir.
“How very interesting,” one says. She’s projecting the appearance of an older woman, but if I had to guess, I’d say she died about a hundred years ago and was a lot younger than what she chooses to look like now.
“Now that we don’t have to worry about distracting you, let’s have some introductions. I’m Hattie.”
“Connor,” I say, and Skye blinks.
“What—”
“Ghosts,” Josh tells him, which makes him blink again.
“Have they been here this whole time?” The indignant note in his voice makes me wonder what he and Arissa were talking about earlier. One of the things I couldn’t avoid seeing in his head was that he’s gay, so I doubt they were getting it on.
There’s a small surge of energy, and Hattie changes. I guess “solidifies” would be a good word, but she doesn’t look any more solid to me. Her soul is drawing more energy to project a solid image of itself, and the energy draw is what looks different to me.
Skye glares at her. “Who else is here?”
“Don’t get all worked up, dear. You knew we’d be popping in to keep an eye on you.
And we heard nothing interesting, just your vacation plans.
” Skye doesn’t seem mollified, but she’s already turning her attention back to me.
“This is Joe.” She gestures to the old-man ghost beside her.
He’s easily two hundred years old and has a very strong presence.
If I had to guess, I’d say he was an owner of this land at some point and loved it fiercely.
The connection sustains his afterlife and is probably a major factor in all the positive energy here.
I tip my head in acknowledgment but don’t bother saying hello. From the way he’s scowling, he won’t answer.