The Ravaging in Between (The Reanimation Files Book 3) (3 page)

“This is a place of infinite possibility if you choose to see it that way,” Kyo said. “If you are strong enough you can shape it to your will, build yourself a mansion to rule what you perceive to be your kingdom.”

He held his arm out, palm down, and I felt a rise in power coming from him. Moments later he lifted his arm and the ground rose with it, creating a small hill. When he lowered his arm, the hill disappeared.

“Wow,” I said. “What else can you do?”

“This.” Kyo suddenly disappeared and reappeared several feet in front of me. I stopped walking so abruptly I almost tripped over my feet. In another blink of an eye, Kyo disappeared and was once again besides me.

“Definitely never seen a ghost do that before. Impressive.”

Kyo flashed a smile. “Teleporting is a basic skill. You can learn it easily. But in all seriousness, there are ghosts who’ve developed skills that are dangerous. They’ve learned how to do things you would want to avoid.”

“Like what?” I started looking a little closer at the ghosts we passed by in case any of them were looking at me with a particularly evil eye.

“Like—”

“I knew I sensed someone new arrive. Aren’t you a pretty thing, at least from the back.”

The voice was deep and raspy, and came from behind us. Before I turned around, I noticed that every single ghost in the area scattered. Some did that vanishing thing Kyo did, and others flat-out ran. Kyo and I turned around, and before I knew it, Kyo was holding a ghostly sword that looked like it was engulfed in white flames. Had he just conjured that out of nowhere?

The ghost standing in front of us was large. Far larger than anyone with a human form should be, living or dead. He was at least eight feet tall, wide, and burly. He was bald, and his facial expression just screamed that he was nothing but trouble. I very much wished I could teleport away.

“Leave her alone, Garrus,” Kyo said. He moved to stand in front of me. Why was I in danger again so soon after dealing with Renton’s ghost?

“I don’t take orders, you know that,” Garrus said. A nasty smile curled his lips as he cocked his head to the side to get a better look at me behind Kyo. “What, are you going to tickle me with your little sword to try and stop me? I’ll absorb you, and then I’ll get the girl.”

Absorb? I did not like the sound of that.

“You’ve tried that many times and you’ve always failed,” Kyo said. “This time won’t be any different.”

“Oh I think it will be,” Garrus said. “Because you don’t have your little posse with you. You can’t gang up on me.”

“I can hold my own,” Kyo said. He sure sounded like he could. But I didn’t know him well enough to know if I could trust that so I started to back up. Garrus suddenly disappeared and reappeared behind me. He grabbed me around the throat and picked me up until my legs were dangling in the air.

It wasn’t like he could choke the life out of me, but this did not feel great. Especially when I started to feel like pieces of my ghostly self were being pulled from me and into Garrus. Where his hand was latched on to me felt burning hot, as though he was melting me. I struggled, but could not free myself from his hold.

In the seconds that all of this was happening, Kyo did not hesitate to slash Garrus with his sword. He cut across his back, and that caused Garrus to release me. I fell onto all fours, feeling as though I was on fire.
What the hell had Garrus just done to me?
I felt completely off, and weak. Absorb; he had used the word absorb, had he been trying to suck me into himself or something? Ghosts here could do that?

When I looked up, Kyo and Garrus were locked in a furious battle. Kyo’s sword was a blur as he bore down on Garrus, but the ghost giant was able to deflect his blows or move out of the way. I wasn’t sure what Kyo hoped to accomplish with a ghost sword on a ghost enemy, but if it kept Garrus off of me, he could keep it up. I tried to get up so I could run away, but my body suddenly bucked hard, and I collapsed again. I felt dizzy. Really dizzy. When I looked at my arms, they started to fade in and out.

My vision spun.
Was all of this because of what Garrus had done?
I was terrified to think of what the consequences were in this type of situation. I tried to call out to Kyo, but all that came out was a wheezing gasp. The sound of him and Garrus fighting seemed so far away.

My head dropped back, then rolled to the side, and I couldn’t get my limbs under control.

I felt like my ghost was going to rattle into pieces. I was terrified. In my blurred vision, I saw Kyo and Garrus still fighting, and then I saw nothing.

CHAPTER THREE

My eyes felt heavy, like tiny weights were sitting on top of them, and it took some effort for me to open them. The bright light that met my blurry vision was not a pleasant sensation, but I resisted closing my eyes because I wasn’t sure how long it’d take me to get them open once more.

I was disoriented, but able to decipher that I was lying on a hospital bed. There was a breathing tube in my nose, and all sorts of tubes crisscrossed my body. The room was filled with the sounds of all the machines hooked up to me.

It was empty, save for me.

And Micah.

Micah dozed in a chair near my bed. I stared at him. My brain was not sure how to comprehend my situation. I was in a hospital and Micah was sleeping next to me. I had a sense of déjà vu, but I was also confused. The last thing I remembered was…

I frowned.
The bridge. With Renton and his rampaging ghost monster.
I remembered what I did to make everything right.

My eyes widened and I gasped.
I’m dead. I’m supposed to be dead
. Was this my version of the Afterlife? A hospital with Micah? I looked at my body. I didn’t look like a ghost, nor did I feel like one. I felt weak as hell, sure, but…I felt alive. I raised a hand to my chest and felt the rhythmic beating of my heart. Looking over at one of the monitors, I saw that it was tracking my vitals. If I had vitals, then I was alive.

So that meant our plan had failed.

I hadn’t killed Renton.

I didn’t know what to think about that, so I settled for looking at Micah again. When I had pulled the trigger, I had done so with the belief that I would not see Micah for a long time. Not until his life ended—hopefully as an old man—and he joined me on the other side. An overwhelming surge of emotion flooded me at the sight of him sitting there, almost close enough for me to touch.

Along with those emotions came memories, and it felt like something hard and cold twisted in my gut when I thought about the roller-coaster our relationship had been on these past few months. Micah had let other people die to save my life, and I had tried to kill myself to save everyone who might have fallen victim to Renton’s agenda. Who else had to deal with these kind of problems in their relationship? What I wouldn’t give for my worst issue with Micah to be something like him leaving the toilet seat up.

Complex emotional issues aside, Micah was here and I wanted—no,
needed
—to speak to him, to look into his eyes, hear his voice, and feel his arms around me. It felt like years since I’d seen him; the bridge showdown felt like a dream. I opened my mouth to say his name, but only a raspy, croaking sound came out. I tried to speak again, but my voice still didn’t make an appearance. I swallowed a few times, and cleared my throat to try again.

The throat clearing roused him. He groggily opened his eyes, then yawned and stretched his arms over his head. I could hear his bones crack and could only imagine how uncomfortable it was to sleep in that chair. He rubbed his eyes, blinked a few times, and looked over at me in a way that made me feel as though waking up in that chair and glancing at me was something he’d been doing a lot. Our eyes met and Micah froze while I offered him a smile. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened.

“Hi.” My voice still sounded raspy, but at least I could get a word out. Micah said nothing, just continued to stare at me in total shock. I understood that I was laid up in the hospital, but why was he this shocked to see me awake?

“Mic—” Before I could finish saying his name, Micah bolted out of the chair and ran out of the room like a horde of ghost monsters was chasing him. I frowned as I stared at the doorway. He was yelling for a doctor. Was I not supposed to be awake or something? I was in a hospital room, not on a table in a morgue, so it wasn’t as though I’d shocked him senseless by coming back to life.

Someone ran into my room a few moments later, but it wasn’t Micah. It was a middle-aged doctor with salt and pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He was followed by several nurses, and they all started fluttering around me, checking the equipment as well as all the places something was stuck into my body. One of them proceeded to fill up about half a dozen vials with blood. Beyond them, Micah hovered in the doorway. His eyes were glued to me and his expression was both scared and hopeful.

“Ms. Vanream, I’m Doctor Miles Stevens, how are you feeling?” The doctor was standing at my side and proceeded to shine a light in my eyes.

“Thirsty, weak, hungry beyond all comprehension, but other than that, I feel OK.”

“Any pain?”

I took a moment to assess myself. “Nothing outrageous. I mostly feel lethargic.”

“That’s to be expected,” he said, nodding. The nurses were done with all their checks, but remained in the room.

“Do you remember what happened to you?” Dr. Stevens asked.

“Vividly,” I said. “Killing yourself is not something you forget. Or trying to kill yourself I should say.”

“Walk me through the last thing you recall.”

“Uh, I was on the Brooklyn Bridge with Micah.” The whole time I spoke my eyes never left Micah’s. “We were trying to stop Renton from using a ghost monster under his control from slaughtering people. Renton was in possession of my reanimation power and I realized that the only way to stop him would be to kill him. Once he died, my reanimation power would die…and so would I. But I guess I failed, though it’s hard for me to comprehend someone surviving a point-blank shot to the chest.”

“Selene, you didn’t fail,” Dr. Stevens said.

“What? Of course I did—” I gave the doctor my full attention.

“If you had failed, Renton would be the one in the hospital being treated for his gunshot wound,” Dr. Stevens said. “There would have been no consequence to you that would have required you to be hospitalized.”

“Just exactly what are you saying, doc? That Renton is dead, but I survived?”

“You survived, but not completely unscathed,” Dr. Stevens said. “When Renton Morse died, you did too. You died for about two minutes. But the paramedics were able to revive you.”

My eyes bulged. “I…I…I died for two minutes?” I could hardly say the words.

“Yes,” Dr. Stevens said. “But that isn’t all. After you were revived, you immediately slipped into a coma. You’ve been in a coma for a little over a month.”

“A month…” I repeated. “So it’s…what month are we even in? What day is it?”

“October thirteenth,” he replied. “Tuesday.”

“Oh my God.” Micah’s shock and bolt out of the room made sense now. He’d grown used to sitting at the bedside of a woman in a coma. Waking up to find me also awake must have been astounding. I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

“Wait, wait, wait, this isn’t adding up.” I was frowning deeply. “How…I mean, if Renton is dead…how am I…” My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. This was so confusing.

“We are not sure how you survived,” Dr. Stevens said. “We have consulted with dead witch and necromancer doctors and specialists, and no one can provide an explanation. What it boils down to is that he is dead, but you’re alive, and have now awakened from your coma. That is miraculous.”

“To say the least.” That was a lot of shocking information to absorb. “And my reanimation power? Is it…”

But I realized I didn’t need anyone to answer that for me. I could feel that it was gone, a hundred percent. I knew that some of the weakness and disorientation I felt was due to being without my reanimation power, and that even when I recovered from being in a coma, some of that feeling would always remain. My reanimation power had brought me nothing but immense trouble lately, but it had been a part of me, and now I would forever feel bereft because it was gone.

“You remain a necromancer,” Dr. Stevens said. “But your reanimation power died with Renton.”

“This makes no sense. None whatsoever.”

“It’s overwhelming, I understand. I will give you some time to wrap your head around it.”

“I’d love to do so from the comfort of my own bed. When can I go home?”

“Not for a while. We need to keep you for observation to ensure that you are not going to relapse, and you will need physical therapy since you have not used your limbs in some time.”

Looking at my body, I realized that I had lost a bit of weight. Being fed intravenously wasn’t exactly a balanced diet. I sighed and leaned back against my pillows.

“Great,” I muttered. “Can I at least get some water? And then an entire cow to stuff down my throat?”

“Here.” It wasn’t the doctor or a nurse, but Micah who was suddenly at my bedside holding a glass of water. I took it and gulped it down, and then he poured me more from the pitcher he held.

“Thank you,” I said. He nodded, his eyes never leaving my face.

“You seem stable for the time being so we will give you two some time alone. I will get a rush analysis on the blood we drew, then we can talk some more.”

I barely saw Dr. Stevens and the nurses leave; I only had eyes for Micah. He sat down on the edge of the bed and tentatively reached for my hand. I moved it forward to encourage him, and he wrapped his fingers around mine. I felt a fine trembling going through his body.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered, staring at our hands. “You were cold before. You were so cold…”

“Micah…”

He looked at me and the pain in his eyes was hard to look at.

“Hold me. Please.”

Micah didn’t move. He gripped my hand tighter, almost painfully so, then his expression cracked and he pulled me into his arms. His embrace was crushing, but I didn’t care. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled the scent of him. I missed him as though a century had passed since I had last seen him. I needed his words, his touch, his embrace, more than I needed anything right now. I felt like there was so much to say, but I had no idea where to start.