Pyros: DarkWorld: Skinwalker 0.5 (Novella) (DarkWorld: Origins Book 1) (9 page)

Almost fainting with relief, I grabbed onto the open door and held on by my fingernails, my knees quivering as they threatened to buckle under my weight. Thankfully, the kitchen counter sat only about ten feet away from my room door. If I could make it from my bed to the door, I could make it to the kitchen. Half-way there anyway.

I let go of the door, flexing too-stiff fingers, and moved ahead slowly. I made it to the sink without kissing the floor.

The counter took my weight and I rested my elbows on the cool marble; then leaning for-ward, I listened to the frantic thudding of my heart. When my head stopped spinning, I reached for a glass from the wire rack, held it with shaking fingers and filled it, drinking until my thirst was quenched. I shuddered, my body feeling the effects of my journey.

Looks like it's back to bed for you, Odel.

Alpha or not, a girl had to know when to admit defeat. I needed rest and the kitchen was as far as I dared go. I filled the glass again and turned when the kitchen, floor, counter and all, began to spin. My stomach churned and the muscles in my abdomen clenched.

Too light-headed to do anything, I sank to the floor, my knees at last losing the fight to hold me up. The heavy-bottomed drinking glass slipped from my grasp, falling straight to the wood floor, smashing into a million pieces. As the glass hit the ground, water burst from it like a geyser, spraying droplets all over the kitchen. And all over me.

Good job. Now who's going to clean up this mess?

Lying where I fell, my face rested close to my poison-wreathed arm. I stared at it as it throbbed and pulsed, as if the poison had taken on a life of its own and was just waiting for the next moment to advance farther into my flesh.

Who knew a tiny piece of Wraith-sword could be this deadly? It seemed fate had conspired against us all: against me who had found and killed the soul-suckers, against Grandma Ivy who'd given me the armband for protection, and against my mother who'd sacrificed her life to ensure my sister and I would be safe from harm.

***

The lab was cold and silent as Logan breathed deep, drawing the fire through his body and centering the molten energy within his mind. The mouse shivered in his hand, its sickly green eyes staring up at him, its expression sad and pleading. The little, large-eyed white-furred creature had been shaved to reveal its bare skin, enabling Logan and the lab-techs to assess how well the fire was progressing in killing the poison.

He felt a twinge of regret at using the innocent creature. He'd needed a suitable test subject to ensure he could find and perfect the safest method of neutralizing the poison. Now the naked mouse wriggled in his hand, its body streaked with the purple and green stains of the insidious venom.

The colors guided his thoughts to Kailin, and his gut twisted at the pain and agony she continued to endure from the poison.

Logan wanted to move faster. To hurry. The longer he took the more Kailin suffered, and if there was anything he wanted more, it was to free her from the bindings of the Wraith poison. But he had to keep reminding himself that he needed to be accurate much more than he needed to be fast. What good was rushing if he didn't get it right?

The mouse squeaked as if he knew his time had come. Logan concentrated, harnessing and building the power in his mind, drawing it into a mental bowstring, pulling it taut but letting it go in a steady, controlled stream.

He stared at the animal, watching for the slightest change.

Logan could feel the heat surging throughout his body.
He hoped his magic wouldn't be as destructive as the last time he'd tried this. He needed to know there was some hope for Kailin. Two weeks had passed since she'd returned from Wrythiin, two weeks since they'd discovered the poison infecting her system, and two endless weeks of suffering. His visits to Kailin always ended with him returning to the lab and working himself half to death. He hated seeing her suffer.

The mouse squeaked again and Logan blinked. Now, he stared at his palm and the forgotten rodent struggling within it. He grasped the mouse, thumbed the skin below its eye,
and pulled it down to examine the whites. Clear. He turned the mouse over in his hand, examining the skin closely. Only the faintest threads of grays and blues and purples remained, and they were fast disappearing. Seconds later the mouse, re-energized, twisted within his hand, trying to gain his freedom.

Logan gave a half smile. "Sorry, dude. You're alive, but probably only long enough to die another day." Logan scanned the lab and wondered what other experiments they had in store for the little naked mouse. He preferred not to know.

After securing the mouse in its cage and making the necessary notes on the file, Logan shucked off the white lab coat and slipped on his black leather jacket. He couldn't wait a moment longer to get to Kailin.

The fire worked.

Now he just had to make sure it worked on Kailin.

***

Despite the warmth of the wood floors, cold seeped into my flesh and bones. I shivered but I couldn't move; I just lay there and stared at puddles of water and glass shards, listening to the thud of my heartbeat in my ear.

Useless. That's what I was. Totally useless until I found a way to rid myself of this poison. Until then, I wouldn't be able do anything about saving Greer or my mother or even Anjelo.

A growl ripped through my throat, my anger and frustration finally spilling over. Long pent-up emotions battered my defenses, shoving through, releasing in the sharp snarl of my panther. She'd had enough. She'd taken the beating of the poison too, hated feeling useless as much as I did.

I'd longed for release and maybe my panther form would be the best way to achieve that. A little question hovered at the back of my mind. What would happen to my body and the body of my panther should I change while the poison was so prevalent in my system? Would I harm my panther?

But she didn't seem to care about the danger. My ears lifted, pointed, flared out. My eyes burned, the particular sensation of my panther eyes coming forth. Another growl and my jaw lengthened, hardened, my nose now picking up every odor surrounding me, including the sickly scent of the poison flowing thick and strong beneath my skin.

My hands transitioned smoothly into paws, my fingernails curving into deadly-sharp claws. I stretched out, lengthened my back, and let the panther take
charge.

My feline was about to take full control when my ears flicked, angling toward the door to my apartment. A sound filtered through from a lower floor in the building. Someone was coming up the stairs. My nose twitched, scented the air.

Logan.

I began to sink back into my human form as he knocked hard at the door.

***

Logan frowned as he climbed the last few stairs to Kailin's floor, laden with bags of Chinese takeout. He'd been so sure he'd heard a very feline growl come from the apartment just a second ago, and though he strained to hear more, the sound didn't come again. Still frowning, he reached Kailin's door and paused.

Taking a deep breath, Logan knocked.

# End of LOST SOUL Excerpt #

***

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Lost Soul – Book 2 in the DarkWorld Series

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Blood Magic – Book 1 in the SoulTracker Series

My phone buzzed and I grabbed it from the seat be
side me, while keeping my eyes on the road. I flipped it open, gave it a quick glance and raised my eyebrows in surprise. Martin Cross. Desperate father in search of his missing child. Something I knew a lot about. I’d just taken his case, a stressed mechanic whose kid had disappeared into thin air months ago. A case I’d assumed would be pro bono considering he didn’t appear to me to have exceedingly deep pockets.

He was c
onfirming my payment had been deposited and I should see it reflect in the account tomorrow. For once, I was happy to have pegged someone so wrong.

I threw the phone back on the seat and peeked at the rear
view mirror. It never hurt to be cautious considering I’d pissed off enough paranormal criminals in my time, but no one was following me.

***

I drove to the outskirts of town, wondering again why I bothered with these visits. I could hear Drake's voice. “Why do you waste your time? The man probably doesn't even know you're there.”

Drake Darvon was my best friend and my sparring partner. He was also a gargoyle. Real live blue-blooded in
-the-flesh gargoyle. Drake didn't realize I went because I needed to. Because something deep inside me drew me to Samuel.

I pulled up in front of the house, a part of me refusing to enter the grand old house, the other part wanting to rush in there and take Samuel away from it all. To take him away and fix him and make him whole again. It still felt like my fault, even though everyone, including Samuel himself
, insisted it wasn't. But if I hadn't been so persistent, if I hadn't wanted to find Ari so badly and finally bring her body home for some closure, maybe Samuel would still be whole. Maybe he would still be around to guide me.

Not that I needed his training anymore, though. Samuel Fontaine had once been the Master Teleporter. There was only one person who exceeded him in his ability to cross the Veils and enter the Other worlds. And that was me. A secret only Samuel and I knew. Both Omega and Sentinel could never be privy to that piece of information. Samuel contracted to both organizations so he was allowed on occasion to do his own search and rescue jobs. Storm had arranged for Samuel to train me, to help perfect my astral projection, thus putting in motion a friendship of a lifetime.

But Samuel couldn't be hoodwinked. He'd forced me to admit my front as an astral projector was a sham. Then he'd taken it upon himself to train me to teleport better. How to jump better, faster, smarter. And to this day he was the only one who knew exactly how powerful I was. How far I could jump, how strong my self-protection was, that I could move through most magical wards.

I rested my head on the steering wheel. Maybe I should just start the car and go home. Maybe Drake was right and coming here
only made things worse for me and for Samuel. No. I punched the steering wheel, as if it was Drake arguing with me. I'd come this far. And Samuel deserved some company. I got out of the car, controlling the urge to slam the door shut. Fishing in my jacket pocket for my keys, I jogged to the porch, as if by walking any slower I would give myself the chance to change my mind.

Beneath the elegant French columns, with their flaking paint, I hesitated only a moment before I slipped my key into the lock, the rest of the bunch jangling against each other as I moved. I was about to turn it when the giant oak door swung inward so hard I had to let go of my keys or go flying inside with them.

Cassia stared at me, her honey-gold eyes as expressionless as she could make them. "Hello, Melisande."

"Hi
, Cass." The skin at her eyes tightened. She hated it when I shortened her name. But it didn't matter. She pretty much hated everything I was and everything I stood for, all on account of the fact I ruined her life. I wasn't in the mood for a stare down so I tugged my keys from the lock, and took special note of the dark glare Cassia gave them, as if I had no right to have them. I brushed past her and headed for the stairs.

"He's not taking visitors," she said, her voice dripping ice as she pushed her tightly spiraled curls away from her face.

I stopped, my foot on the first stair, my hand on a banister badly in need of staining, and glanced back at her. I smiled sweetly. "Well, good thing I'm not a visitor then, isn't it?" I watched as blood rushed to her dusky cheeks. She smoothed her skirt down, tamping down her anger with the same action. I really shouldn't bait her. She did take care of Samuel. But I could care less if she left. I'd just hire someone else to look after him. I turned my back on her and left her to stew in her fury, taking the threadbare stairs two by two, knowing even Cassia would disapprove. Poor Cassia. Samuel's niece hadn't inherited his teleportation powers, and being born normal into an almost entirely magical family was a great burden to bear. The problem with Cassia was she bore it with vicious anger.