Angel's Touch (14 page)

Well, okay, the kiss was a mistake if it had scared Megan off. But if you could ignore the repercussions… Definitely not a mistake.

She could still feel Megan’s fingers on her jaw, her other hand gripping her shoulder, her mouth setting off demolition charges that threatened to make Kira lose her balance even before she hooked her with her leg.

Why had Megan suffered an attack of conscience and pulled away? The abruptness of it had reminded her of something. Something that danced at the edge of her brain that she couldn’t quite remember. Kira shook her head in annoyance. That massage after the 10K was only ten minutes. How could that count as a professional relationship? If she had known getting a massage from her would have such frustrating consequences, she would have run out of that tent before Megan ever saw her.

***

Megan was eating spaghetti at home Saturday night when the phone rang and she almost didn’t pick up. She changed her mind when she saw who was calling. Kira.

She didn’t know what in the world she was going to say to her. Her body went hot and cold just thinking about the way she felt pressed up behind her with her arms around her waist, dancing, or the way she’d looked at her in that slow-motion instant before they kissed—her hesitation, and then her sharp intake of breath.

And then her kiss. It hurt to think about that kiss.

Too bad she hadn’t spent any time thinking about what to say to her the next time they talked. Which was turning out to be sooner than she’d thought.

“Kira?”

“Your friend—the Russian one?” Kira sounded anxious. “She needs help. Can you come over?”

What was Svetlana doing with Kira? “What…is she drunk or something? Where are you? What happened?” Megan located her sandals and her keys while she talked.

“I’m in the woods by the hotel. You know, at your magic rock.” She could almost see Kira’s jaw clench in annoyance at finding one of Megan’s friends on her property.

“Okay, I’m on my way.” She locked her front door behind her. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Who the hell knows?”

Megan got there ten minutes later. Svetlana lay crumpled against the boulder that marked the intersection of the two ley lines, her body curled in a fetal position, her face pale. Her eyes were open, but glassy, and didn’t react to the presence of the people around her.

“She was screaming,” Kira explained.

Megan rushed to kneel at Svetlana’s side. The instant she touched her shoulder, an oily darkness made her recoil. Svetlana remained motionless, frozen in the grip of…something. She wasn’t sure Svetlana even knew she was there. Megan wanted to hug her and warm her and make her feel safe, but she couldn’t bear to touch that darkness again.

“You tried it, didn’t you?” Megan said softly.

“Tried what?” Kira asked.

Megan retreated to where Kira stood watching. She sighed. “She must have tried to go out of body. I warned her not to.”

“I don’t even know what that means. Is she going to be okay?”

“Yes. Did you call her husband?”

“I asked her for the phone number, but she didn’t seem to be able to talk. That’s why I called you.”

Megan pulled out her cell phone, punched in the number, and handed the phone to Kira. “Ask him to come over, but try not to scare him.”

Kira nodded.

Megan circled Svetlana cautiously, assessing the problem. When she heard Kira say goodbye to Patrick, she held out her hand for her phone, ignoring the flutter in her stomach that kicked up the minute she entered Kira’s airspace. So inappropriate. Kira passed her the phone without touching, and Megan curled her fingers around it and hit speed dial. She was going to need reinforcements.

Patrick Durbridge arrived in record time. He immediately dropped to the ground and pulled Svetlana’s unresponsive body onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, his head bowed to hers. Gwynne showed up a few minutes later, giving Kira a brief glance that Megan found hard to read. Without getting too close, Gwynne leaned in Svetlana’s direction to get a good look. She tensed, but so briefly that Megan would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for some kind of reaction, then shrugged it off and whistled like she was admiring a prize-winning fish.

Patrick interrupted his murmured words of comfort to glare up at her in irritation. “Do you mind?”

Gwynne shrugged and sauntered over to Megan’s side.

“What do you think?” Megan nodded in Svetlana’s direction. “You see it, right?”

“Yup. Do you?”

“I feel it.” The sense of malevolence clinging to Svetlana was hard to miss—much worse than the fleeting apprehension she’d felt the day she’d first discovered the ley lines. She was kind of glad she couldn’t physically see—the way Gwynne could—the leech that had grabbed Svetlana. Sensing it was bad enough.

“It’s a big one,” Gwynne agreed, not sounding too concerned.

Svetlana twisted violently away from Patrick’s embrace and threw up. It was the first time she’d moved since Megan had arrived. Patrick held on, his expression grim, smoothing her hair and keeping it out of her face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Svetlana cried, then threw up again.

At least she was talking now. Patrick sure was able to bring her around fast. That was one advantage of not being perceptive enough to detect the spirit plane—he could hold her without being repulsed by her new noncorporeal companion. He could sense that she wasn’t herself, but he most likely had no idea what was going on. Beyond the obvious physical symptoms, of course. Fortunately, holding her was enough to snap her out of her astral dissociation and back into her physical body.

Patrick wiped her mouth with the edge of his shirt as Svetlana clung to him, her face pressed to his chest.

“What happened?” Patrick asked her.

“I felt like someone grabbed me.”

“Someone attacked you?” Patrick reared back, his face a bright, blotchy red.

Svetlana shook her head angrily, as if by forcing the movement she could make him understand. “No one was there. I imagined it.”

“You were screaming,” Kira reminded her.

“I…I guess I…how do you say? Flipped.”

Patrick pulled her into his arms again. “Kira said you passed out. Are you sure no one hurt you?”

Svetlana threw up again, turning her head away from him just in time. “I don’t understand. Why I pass out? Why I vomit?”

“You picked up a hitchhiker,” Gwynne explained.

“A what?” Svetlana clutched Patrick’s arm.

“Something bad,” Megan said.

“But not serious,” Gwynne insisted.

“Are you sure there isn’t a more down-to-earth explanation for this?” Patrick demanded, directing his ire at Gwynne.

“Psychosis?” Gwynne suggested sarcastically.

“Is demon, no?” Svetlana whispered.

“Of course not,” Megan said, although
demon
was actually a pretty good name for it. It wasn’t surprising, really, that that was the word that would come to Svetlana’s mind. But there was no need to make her more scared than she already was. “You don’t believe in angels, so don’t start believing in demons, okay?”

Svetlana looked dubious. “How I get rid of it?”

“We’re going to do that right now,” Megan said. “That’s why I called Gwynne. She’s better at this than I am.”

And the sooner they got it out, the better. Svetlana was actually lucky she had attracted such a big one, because the small ones were harder to spot, and better at insinuating themselves into a person’s life. People felt like they weren’t themselves, that they were more negative and angry, but they never figured out the real reason why. Anger was easy to dismiss. Throwing up was harder to ignore.

“Can you move away from the boulder?” Megan suggested.

Patrick helped Svetlana stand, and they stumbled a few yards away from it.

“Good?” Patrick asked.

“Yes. But you’re going to have to let go of her, Patrick. We don’t want to pull the hitchhiker out of her and have it jump into you.”

Patrick’s nostrils flared. He let go but held his arms out, not trusting that Svetlana wouldn’t fall. “I think she should sit.”

“I can stand,” Svetlana protested. “Dizziness will pass.”

She swayed, and Patrick caught her arm.

“Maybe I sit.” She bent her knees and sank to the ground.

Megan stationed herself behind Svetlana with her legs planted wide apart and her arms spread out to the sides. Gwynne stood opposite her, positioning Svetlana between them.

Patrick left Svetlana’s side and parked himself next to Kira—who stood a few yards away between two trees—to watch. “I don’t understand any of this,” he told Kira, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Join the club,” Kira said.

“Svetlana’s never been interested in energy work. And now this.”

“Patrick?” Megan said. “Are you going to help us?”

“I thought you said… Wouldn’t I just be in the way?”

“I didn’t mean leave the area. You have a connection with Svetlana that no one else here has.”

“That would help?” Patrick stood up straighter and uncrossed his arms.

“Possibly. You got her to the point where she could talk and stand up.”

“We don’t need him,” Gwynne said dismissively.

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Megan argued. Gwynne might be confident they could handle this thing on their own, but Megan wasn’t one to discount the power of an emotional bond.

Gwynne looked Patrick up and down. “His emotions are all over the place right now, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing. God knows what would happen.”

Megan shot him a look of apology.

Patrick held up his hands, palms out. “I don’t think this is the right time for me to be learning how to do this. You two are the experts. This isn’t the time to experiment.”

***

At first it seemed to Kira as if Megan and Gwynne were doing nothing—perhaps meditating—as they stood facing each other on either side of Svetlana, although she definitely got the sense that they were both focused on how to help her. Then Gwynne began prowling and waving her arms around, herding an invisible something around Svetlana’s body.

“Come here,” Gwynne muttered, clenching her fingers around her invisible target and yanking on it with vicious, forceful tugs that made it easy to believe she was grabbing something more than just empty air and pulling it out of Svetlana’s body. “Slippery bastard.”

“Aren’t they all.” Megan circled Svetlana with her arms out in front of her like a blind woman feeling her way, tracing the shape of the air.

Gwynne adjusted her grip and kept tugging. Abruptly she let go and stared at her open palms in shocked disbelief. “Meg, quick! It’s escaping!”

Gwynne had let it slip out of her hands? Kira’s gut tightened. As if armoring herself against this hitchhiker thing would be any use.

If it was real.

Which it wasn’t.

Not that she had a better explanation for what could have made Svetlana sick. When she’d heard a scream coming from the woods next to the hotel she’d rushed over to make sure no one was being attacked. By the time she’d gotten there, Svetlana was on the ground hugging herself and moaning, looking like she’d either seen a ghost or broken her arm. Kira hadn’t expected anyone to actually go for the ghost explanation.

Megan dove to one side as if she were blocking a soccer ball from getting into her goal. “Relax. I see it.”

“You do?” Gwynne dodged in the same direction.

“I meant that figuratively. It’s got body odor like you wouldn’t believe. Stinks worse than a sweaty man.”

“Men stink? I feel like I might have heard you mention that…oh…once or twice. Or has it been a million times? I forget,” Gwynne said. They exchanged a teasing glance. It wasn’t intimate, exactly, but it held a shared familiarity that made Kira’s insides twist with jealousy.

“Gag me.” Megan made a sound from deep in her throat that was half choking, half laughter.

“Think she’s a lesbian?” Gwynne shot the words over her shoulder at Kira with a crooked grin. “I bet Svetlana doesn’t think our friend here smells bad. She likes manly pheromones.”

“Please tell me you ladies are focusing,” Patrick begged.

Kira couldn’t blame him for being worried. She didn’t know whether he believed there was an invisible force at work or not, but either way, she’d be freaking out if her wife looked that pale.

“We’re focusing,” Megan reassured him. “But this won’t work if we let ourselves get scared. Hitchhikers love fear. They hook into it.”

“Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Gwynne said.

“We’ve got it under control,” Megan added.

“If you say so.” Patrick still looked worried.

“This is how it got me?” Svetlana asked. “But I had no fear until after.”

“They’re attracted to the light, too,” Megan said, “because light casts a shadow. The hitchhiker was probably drawn to the intense light of the ley lines and then found something in you to lock on to.”

“Something in me?
Nyet!
”

“Everyone’s got unloving places in their heart,” Megan said gently. “It could have gotten anyone.”

“Ready for us to finish this sucker?” Gwynne interrupted.

Svetlana nodded.

“We need to weave a stronger net around it,” Megan told Gwynne.

“I know. I pulled on it too soon.”

Gwynne backed up with her arms waving around and Megan joined in like a mirror image, perfectly matching her every move, as if there really were something there they could both see, something they were circling and binding.

“Sorry I yelled,” Gwynne said quietly to Megan, winding her arm around some part of the thing’s body, hopefully its neck.

“No problem.” Megan’s nose wrinkled in disgust as she moved cat-like, stalking and pouncing, intent on her invisible quarry.

Could she really smell it? Kira didn’t smell a thing.

They worked well together, anticipating each other’s movements. They’d done this together before, she was sure. Many times. It was not a comforting thought. Gwynne Abernathy was so much more Megan’s type than Kira would ever be. They shared an imaginary world that Kira wasn’t cut out to believe in. Yet she couldn’t look away.

“This is so much faster than doing this by myself,” Gwynne observed.