Conduit Page 3

“Yes.” Jimmie glanced worriedly at Lev, aware that he wasn’t even looking at the nurse. His attention was already on the door, and Jimmie couldn’t blame him.

  “Follow me.” The nurse swiped her ID card and then pushed open the door. They followed her down the corridor.

  In passing, Jimmie saw the prisoner who had been brought in, heard her yelling at the cops long before he saw her, restrained as she was in the bed. They kept moving, and ultimately the nurse stopped before one of the exam rooms.

  “She is still unconscious. Were you with her when this started?”

  “No,” Lev said. “Just me.” His body was tense, poised to shove past.

  “What happened?” The nurse purposely didn’t open the door and waited for him to answer.

  “It was like she had a seizure,” he half-whispered, raking his fingers through his hair. “She began shaking, lost consciousness, and then stopped breathing. I did CPR to keep her alive.” He closed his eyes, reliving the memory and then shuddered. Although Jimmie hadn’t been there to see the seizure, he, too, probably would have been scarred by what he’d seen.

  “Can we go in?” Lev asked, his breathing a little erratic.

  “Of course.” The nurse entered, and Lev and Jimmie followed, struck by all the monitors attached to her. She seemed so small and lost, her face pale in contrast to the light green sheets.

  The nurse made a point to scribble a few notes on Lizzie’s chart and then set it in a plastic holder on the wall before going back to the door.

  “The doctor will be in here in a little while to speak with you once he deals with the screaming patient down the hall.”

  As if on cue, the woman yelled again, louder this time, something about suing cops. “I’m sorry. We’re trying to deal with that as quickly as possible. That kind of disruption is hardly good for any of the patients.” The nurse gave them an apologetic smile and then disappeared.

  “I don’t understand,” Lev murmured. “She was fine earlier; this came out of nowhere.”

  “Not exactly nowhere.” The voice came from behind, and both whirled to find Evan standing there, looking disturbingly human.

  “You saw this coming,” Jimmie asked, sitting in the chair beside Lizzie, “and did nothing?” He took her hand, wanting to be closer to her.

  “No,” Evan said, stepping over to read her chart. He scanned it for a few seconds before putting it back. “All the pieces have been there, but until now I never put them together. And now, this—this is just starting.”

  Chapter Three

  “What are you talking about?” Lev demanded, pacing. No matter where he moved, he glared at Evan as though somehow his father had betrayed him, which made no sense. Then again, a lot of Lev’s behaviors lately hadn’t made much sense. He’d reverted completely to emotions to get through everything instead of logic.

  “Elizabeth is being targeted,” Evan replied calmly. “That’s why Celia sent for me. And it’s about to get infinitely worse.”

  Both Lev and Jimmie glared at him, Jimmie’s mouth dropping in shock and Lev’s frown deepening sharply.

  “That doesn’t make any sense.” Lev thought back to sitting on the couch with Elizabeth as they sat and watched a movie—the same way they’d done many times before, no hints that something bad was heading their way. “I was there when things went down, Evan. It seemed like a seizure, something completely medical in nature.”

  “Of course, that’s what you would see.” Evan ambled up beside Lev and looked down at Elizabeth, making sure she was sleeping as comfortably as she could. He watched the monitors for more assurance.

  “Meaning?” Lev growled, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at his father.

  “You’re human now, Lev. It’s part of the trade-off. You stopped sensing any supernatural beings the day you ‘died’ as an angel.”

  Lev’s shoulders sank, and a flush colored his cheeks. He clenched his jaw, bucking up for a physical blow.

  “It’s not my fault.”

  “I never said it was,” Evan gave him a pointed stare. “I told you it was a trade-off, and you know it.”

  “So what exactly is targeting her?” Jimmie interrupted, trying to keep Lev from flying off the handle.

  “They're what we call dybbuks.”

  Lev gave a hard laugh. “You’re reaching. There aren’t any dybbuks here. You would have sensed them before now.”

  Evan shook his head. “Yes, there are. A handful of them attacked Celia and Griffin as they headed to the house. One of them almost got inside Griffin, and you know what that would have meant.”

  Lev took a few steps back, reeling like something had struck him. His face was ashen, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. A group of dybbuks hinted at something far worse to come.

  Jimmie was about to ask another question when the door swung open and Evan vanished. Jimmie quickly stood and joined Lev.

  The doctor, a woman in her late thirties, entered and offered her hand to Jimmie. “Hello. I’m Dr. Ronson.”

  “I’m Lizzie’s guardian, Jimmie Abram, and this is a family friend, Lev Walker.” They shook, and Ronson grabbed the chart to take a peek as she nodded to them both, acknowledging the greeting.

  So what’s going on?” Lev asked, unable to keep his curiosity in check. He shoved his hands deep into his jeans pockets just to keep them busy.

  “We think you’re right, Mr. Walker. She’s had at least one seizure. What we are trying to do now is figure out what is causing them and how serious they are.” She looked at Lizzie. “Does she have any history of seizures?”

  “No,” Jimmie said. “I’ve cared for Lizzie since she was a child and she’s never had any seizures at all that I’m aware of. This is new.” He frowned and tried to reconcile this information with what Evan had said, knowing the truth was somewhere in the middle of everything.

  “All right. If that’s the case, she’s probably going to be here a while so we can try to figure out what’s causing this sudden health concern. When the tests come back, we will hopefully get some answers.”

  Jimmie nodded, wondering if they’d find something, considering that all of this might have been caused by something not of this world.

  “How long do you think she’ll have to stay?” Lev asked, gazing at her worriedly. A sheen of sweat covered her face, and her lips seemed dry, dehydrated.

  “I don’t know for sure. It’s probably going to take a few days to go through what we need, and once we get the results back, we can figure out where to go from there. I’ll have the nurse work on her paperwork to check her into the hospital. There’s no point in typing up an ER exam room when we know the tests are going to take longer than today. Are there any more questions I can answer for you?”

  While Lev stared blankly at Lizzie, Evan appeared in the corner of the room, and while he could see his father, he doubted anyone else could. Lev shook his head. “No.” His voice sounded small, rather like he felt just then.

  “The nurse will be in shortly with paperwork to move her upstairs. Be patient, and we’ll find the answers.”

  With those words, the doctor headed out into the hallway.

  “Regardless of how long she remains in the hospital, they won’t find a way to explain the seizures because they cannot be explained by illness,” Evan said softly, his eyes meeting Lev’s.

  “What are dybbuks?” Jimmie asked, glancing between Lev and Evan, waiting for one of them to clarify.

  “They are souls who have either refused a sojourn or have fallen through the cracks because of a sojourn which went wrong.”

  Confused, Jimmie staggered backward a step. “Aren’t all souls forced to sojourn one way or another?” He folded his arms across his chest, trying to calm down.

  “In theory, yes, but sometimes things happen…things even the best sojourners have no control over.” Evan leaned over and touched Lizzie’s face, and he frowned. “Some souls just refuse to leave. Most of the time, sojourners can force the journey, but every once i
n a while the souls realize that they have a choice. Ultimately, the power is with the soul. They can continue to stay in the human realm without a body, but it comes at the cost of their sanity.”

  “They’re ghosts?” Jimmie’s tone rose.

  “For all intents and purposes, yes.” Satisfied that Lizzie was as calm as could be, he stepped back.

  “What do they want with her?” Jimmie asked, glancing at the clock. Its loud ticking distracted him. He wondered if other patients minded it because surely every room in the hospital had one.

  “Dybbuks are parasites,” Lev snapped, glaring at Evan sharply. “They try to take over any host body they think will support them.”

  “But why Lizzie, and why now?” Jimmie glanced from Lev to Evan, hoping one of them had some answer.

  Evan paced the room, and Jimmie was wondering if the angel was hiding something important, something that he needed to know to save Lizzie.

  “Well?” Lev prompted. “You seem to think this was done by dybbuks. So tell us one reason the spirits of the dead would focus on Lizzie. There’s nothing special about her.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, and you know it,” Evan argued, stepping in front of his son. “It’s like saying there’s nothing special about you since you’ve been changed from an angel to a human. Supernatural events always leave marks—always—and the dead sometimes use those as landmarks for guidance.”

  “But Lizzie was never an angel,” Jimmie argued.

  Suddenly, Lizzie’s eyes flew open, and she moaned as her body convulsed.

  “Evan!” Jimmie yelled, reaching out as Lizzie’s body shook so hard he was glad of the rails. Suddenly the monitors attached to her went wild. Her heart rate spiked.

  “I’m coming.” In a flash, Evan leaned over Lizzie and put his hands to her chest. Light flared from them until Lizzie’s body stopped jerking and she fell back to a sort of silent peace as two nurses rushed in. Once more, Evan had disappeared.

  As one nurse checked Lizzie’s vitals, the other focused on the suddenly calm readings on the monitors, bewildering both of them.

  “What just happened?” the nurse looking at the monitors asked. “I know I saw the monitors go crazy, but none of it’s here.”

  Her partner checked Lizzie’s pulse and blood pressure. “You’re right. I know what the monitors said, but she’s resting peacefully.” They exchanged glances. “I don’t understand.”

  The first nurse looked at Lev and Jimmie. “Did you see anything?”

  Under the nurse’s scrutiny, Jimmie shook his head first. “No, she seemed to be quietly sleeping. Beyond that I didn’t notice anything.”

  “Did you?” She desperately stared at Lev, seeking some kind of confirmation.

  “No, nothing.” Lev spoke quietly, calmly, something that seemed out of character for him these days.

  “She seems fine,” the second nurse said. “Maybe we are both just too tired and short-handed.”

  “Maybe,” the other nurse agreed, picking up Lizzie’s chart and looking over it, trying to glean anything she might have missed before now.

  The two women glanced at Lev and Jimmie one last time before slipping out, closing the door behind them. As soon as the door shut, Evan reappeared.

  “What just happened?” Jimmie demanded, leaning over Lizzie again.

  “The dybbuks keep coming, trying to claim her as a host for their spirits, and when there are too many at one time, her body cannot handle it. I’m driving them away, but they keep coming back, which means I have to stay with her at least until Celia can come and relieve me. If I leave her unattended, dybbuks will kill her in their desperate fury to claim her, and a hospital is a breeding ground for their kind. We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible.”

  “So what do we do now?” Lev clenched and unclenched his fists, obviously angry at his inability to handle anything himself. The last thing he wanted to have to do was rely on Evan. Once, he’d been an angel, and he’d been able to protect Lizzie. Now he was human and just as vulnerable as she was, which meant for all intents and purposes, he was useless.

  “Go home,” Evan suggested. “I’ll stay here with Lizzie, and by the time she’s finally cleared for release, we will have devised a game plan. Perhaps I can figure out something that will tell us why the dybbuks are targeting her now. It’s more than coincidence.” That much I’m sure of.”

  Jimmie sat in the chair beside the bed. “I’m not just going to leave Lizzie. What if she needs me?” Jimmie glared at him.

  “And what can you do against the supernatural?”

  “But what if it’s not just Lizzie?” Lev argued. “You said that dybbuks had attacked both Celia and Griffin. If it were all about Lizzie, why would they do that?”

  “Because they sense her on all of you.” Evan settled his hands on his hips. “Yes, you all could be in danger, but Celia is there with you, and once Lizzie is at home where we are not divided, I can find other angels to help us—angels who are more familiar with dealing with spirits resistant to having their souls sojourned.”

  “I can’t—”

  Evan quickly cut Lev off. “I know you don’t want to leave her, but there’s nothing you can do. I can protect her, and I will do whatever I need to. You have my word.” He nodded at Lizzie’s guardian respectfully.

  “I suppose you think I should just go,” Lev seethed, “Seeing as how I’m uselessly human just like him.”

  Evan strode over and set his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’re not useless, Lev. You’ve never been useless. It’s just, right now, there’s nothing you can do.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” He watched Lizzie, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “But if anything happens to her, I will never forgive you.”

  He didn’t wait for his father’s response. Instead, he strode to the door and slipped out. Jimmie watched Lev walk out, and for a moment, he considered changing his mind. Then he saw Evan amble to the window, his back to him. He set his arms on the sill and let his wings show, the austere brilliance lighting the whole room. In that moment, Jimmie realized that while he might love Lizzie more than life itself, there was only one entity who could protect the little girl he’d raised—Evan.

  Sighing, he nodded as though he’d made some kind of promise and then shifted, stopping by Lizzie for just a second so he could bend and gently kiss her forehead. Some part of him thought perhaps she might sense him and wake before he left, but that was just him being naïve and blindly hopeful in the wake of fear. He stared at her face, trying not to think about how pale and fragile she appeared. He had to believe everything would somehow be okay. That’s when he finally left.

  * * *

  “Griffin? Can you hear me?”

  Celia’s voice was distant, and his head ached beyond measure. The pain came in throbbing waves, and he wanted to bury himself deeper in the blackness, hoping that darkness might drive the unpleasantness away.

  “Griffin?” The voice was louder and more insistent, something that wasn’t going to go away. If only he could think beyond this raging headache.

  “Head hurts,” he muttered, thinking that might distract her and let him slip back into the blessed blackness.

  “I know that. But you need to wake up. I need to make sure you’re okay, Griffin, and to do that, I need to see your eyes.”

  While he didn’t have a clue just how unpleasant opening his eyes was going to be, just lying here like this was torture and took everything he had. Still, if Celia thought it was necessary, he would do as she asked, no matter how hard it was.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. Although the lighting wasn’t all that bright, it seemed like sunlight as it cut through him, forcing a strangled gasp from his throat.

  “Easy…just take it easy.” Griffin felt a hand stroke his forehead, a touch of cool glancing across his skin, and in its wake the pain slowly receded like the tide washing back to the ocean, which made it easier to blink once…twice…three times.

&nb
sp; At first, the world blurred and spun in a way he’d never experienced, not even when he’d had his only concussion in second grade. The spinning made him nauseated, and he thought he might vomit. Still, at least the pain was dissipating, suggesting that perhaps he might eventually rebound.

  “What happened?” he asked, trying to remember something beyond what he felt, but nothing was coming to mind.

  “You were attacked.”

  He gazed toward the voice and waited for Celia’s face to come into focus. When it did, he saw the worried frown tugging at her lips. Puzzled, he thought he was lying on the couch in Lizzie’s house, but then, as the fog cleared from the room and everything came into focus, he realized that while he was on the couch, Celia was sitting beneath him, cradling his body against hers. The back of his head rested against her chest, and he saw the delicate line of her neck before finding her face.

  “Attacked?” He blinked a couple of times. Regardless of how hard he tried to remember, he couldn’t. In fact, his mind was a blank slate.

  “Yes.” She stroked the hair from his eyes. “Don’t you remember walking a few hours ago? We were talking about Lev, and as we headed down to the lake, it happened.”

  The details sounded vaguely familiar, and he had no doubt her words held the truth. It was just that everything blurred together, like he’d been given medication.

  “What attacked us?”

  “Dybbuks.”

  He blinked a few more times and finally struggled to sit up. Celia guided him, and even though he tried not to think of her cradling him in her arms, the sensation lingered, reminding him of all the things she refused to talk about with him, things she refused to speak aloud, which made no sense.

  “What are dybbuks?” His voice was hoarse, and it took everything he had just to get the words out. Speaking, too, hurt.

  “They are souls which for various reasons have remained in this world long after separation from their bodies.” Celia averted her eyes, obviously uncomfortable.

  “How is that possible? I thought sojourners took care of that.”

  She nodded reluctantly. “Indeed. We are supposed to, but that does not mean it always happens. Sometimes the timing is wrong and the sojourner doesn’t arrive and guide the soul before it slips away. Sometimes the souls refuse to sojourn. Sometimes the sojourners become corrupted and fail to do their jobs. While it should be a perfect system, it’s not. Angels are just as flawed as humans.” She stared at him. “We, too, have free will, and that free will can destroy us like any other beings.”