Page 60 of Crossing Between

"We've got another one," Kenji announced grimly as he stepped into Varon's kitchen, where I was attempting to make pancakes without burning them.

My stomach dropped at his tone. Through our bond, I felt the dark current of his emotions. Anger, frustration, and a deep sadness that made my chest ache. "Another murder?"

"Yeah. Grum just called. It's bad." He ran a hand through his hair, his usual playfulness nowhere to be seen. "Varon wants us there ASAP."

Elias appeared in the doorway behind him, already dressed in his work clothes, his face a careful mask of professionalism that didn't quite hide his unease. "I'll drive. Varon's meeting us there."

I turned off the stove, abandoning my half-cooked breakfast. "Let me change."

Five minutes later, we were in Elias's car, speeding toward the crime scene.

The silence was heavy, each of us lost in our thoughts.

Through our bond, I could feel Elias's focus, his mind already in healer mode, cataloging what we might find.

Kenji's energy was more turbulent, shifting between rage and determination.

"There's something else," Kenji finally broke the silence, his voice tight. "Something you both should know before we get there."

I turned in my seat to look at him. "What is it?"

He met my eyes, his expression unusually grave. "Varon didn't want to tell you over the phone, but the victim, it's Ruth."

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. "Ruth? My Ruth?" My voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else.

Elias reached across the console, taking my hand in his. I could feel his concern washing over me through our bond, but it barely registered through the shock.

"I'm sorry, kaerasta," Elias's voice was gentle. "Varon confirmed it's her."

"No," I shook my head, denial rising like bile in my throat, sharp and acidic. "That can't be right. I just talked to her two days ago. She was fine. She was..." My voice broke as the reality began to sink in, fracturing like ice beneath my feet.

Ruth. My friend. The woman who'd been more of a grandmother to me than a friend.

The one who'd helped me raise Ryan even in his adult years, who'd shown up at our doorstep with casseroles and no-nonsense advice.

Who'd sat with me on countless nights when I thought I couldn't go on, her weathered hand steady on mine, her voice repeating "One day at a time, my girl" until I believed it.

The woman who taught me how to make plum jam and told me stories about her wild youth while we sealed the jars.

The smell of her lavender perfume that always lingered after she left.

The way her eyes crinkled when she laughed.

I couldn't reconcile those memories with the word "victim." Couldn't process that someone who'd been so vividly alive could now be gone.

"The Essencefeaster," I whispered, horror dawning. "It went after her because of me."

"You don't know that," Kenji's voice was sharp. "Don't blame yourself."

But I could feel it. The truth of it settled into my bones like poison. This was my fault. The Essencefeaster was targeting people I cared about, just as it had promised in my nightmare.

I'm going to take everything you love.

A wave of nausea rolled through me, and I pressed my hand against my mouth. "Pull over."

"Zoey—"

"Pull over now!"

Elias swerved to the shoulder of the road. I barely got the door open before I was vomiting, my body rejecting the horror of what I'd just learned. Tears streamed down my face as I heaved even though I had nothing in it, my body still convulsed.

Strong hands gathered my hair back, cool fingers brushing my neck as another hand rubbed soothing circles between my shoulder blades.

Through our bond, I felt Elias's love and concern washing over me like gentle waves, while Kenji's energy surrounded me like a protective wall, both trying to ease my pain.

But nothing, not their touch, not their power, not even our supernatural connection, could fill the jagged, gaping void that had opened inside me.

Ruth was dead. Not peacefully in her sleep as she'd always joked she'd prefer.

"Just close my eyes with a good book and a better beer, that's how I want to go."

She went violently. Murdered by the Essencefeaster. Those weathered hands that gave me a beer almost every evening, that smoothed my hair when I'd cried over Ryan's latest disaster, would never hold mine again. And it was all because of me.

The thought burned like acid, corroding everything it touched. This monster had chosen her specifically, deliberately. It was a message written in the blood of someone I cherished.

When I had nothing left to give, I sat back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Kenji offered me a water bottle, which I accepted gratefully, rinsing my mouth and spitting before taking a small sip.

"I need to see her," my voice was raw and it hurt. "I need to know what happened."

Elias and Kenji exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

"It's not pretty," Kenji warned, his hand still on my shoulder. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, steel entering my spine despite the trembling that still racked my body. "I need to see. I need to know what I'm fighting."

Elias studied my face for a long moment before nodding. "Okay." He put the car back in drive, pulling onto the road with a grim determination I could feel echoing through our bond.

The rest of the drive passed in a blur. My mind kept replaying memories of Ruth. I couldn't reconcile those memories with the knowledge that she was gone, that I would never hear her voice again.

When we arrived at my building, the area was already cordoned off with police tape. Officers milled about, their faces grim. I spotted Varon standing near the entrance, his tall frame unmistakable even from a distance.

As we approached, his eyes found mine, and the sorrow I saw there confirmed everything. Through our bond, I felt his concern for me, his anger at what had happened, and beneath it all, a fierce protectiveness that would have been comforting under any other circumstances .

"Zoey," he stepped forward, his voice low. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do," I straightened my shoulders, though I felt like I might shatter at any moment. "She was my family."

Varon's jaw tightened, but he nodded, understanding. He lifted the police tape, allowing us to duck under.

Quilith was already inside, their usual flamboyance subdued. When they saw me, their eyes filled with a sadness that seemed to span centuries. They crossed the room in flowing strides, enveloping me in a tight embrace that smelled of starlight and ancient magic.

"My dear one," they murmured against my hair. "I am so sorry."

I clung to them for a moment, drawing strength from their solid presence. Then I pulled back, steeling myself. "Where is she?"

Quilith's expression grew somber. "Are you certain you wish to see? Some memories are difficult to unwrite once seen."

"I need to see," I repeated, my voice steadier than I felt. "Please."

The familiar living room beyond was in shambles with furniture overturned, Ruth's collection of vintage beer cans scattered across the floor, the walls splattered with dark stains I refused to acknowledge as blood.

And there, in the center of the chaos, was Ruth.

Or what remained of her.

I stopped in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat. The room tilted dangerously, and I would have fallen if not for Varon's steadying hand at my elbow.

Ruth's body lay in pieces, literally torn apart.

Her limbs were scattered like discarded toys, her torso rent open, organs missing.

Her face, mercifully, was turned away from me, but I could see her gray hair matted with blood, the familiar floral nightgown she always wore now in tatters and soaked crimson.

I closed my eyes, unable to look anymore, but the image was already burned into my memory. A sob tore from my throat, raw in its grief.

"She fought," Quilith voiced softly beside me. "There are defensive wounds on her hands. She did not go easily."

That sounded like Ruth. Stubborn to the end, refusing to give up without a fight. The thought broke something inside me, and I felt my knees give way.

Three sets of arms caught me before I hit the floor, supporting me as grief ripped through me in waves. I could feel their sorrow mingling with mine through our bond, amplifying and somehow softening it all at once.

"I need to check," I managed between sobs. "I need to see if her soul..."

"Zoey, no," Elias's voice was firm. "You're in no state to."

"I have to try!" I pushed against their restraining arms. "If there's any chance her soul is still here, that I can bring her back!"

"Kaerasta, please," Elias's voice broke. "Don't torture yourself this way."

But I was already reaching for my magic, that well of power that hummed beneath my skin. It rose eagerly to my call, flowing through me like liquid gold. I extended my senses, searching for any trace of Ruth's soul, any lingering essence I could grasp.

Nothing.

I pushed harder, stretching my awareness to its limits, desperately seeking any fragment of the woman I'd loved like family.

Still nothing. Just an empty void where her vibrant spirit should have been.

"She's gone." My voice hollow. "Her soul is completely gone."

Through my grief, something else began to take shape.

A cold, hard fury unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

This wasn't just about me anymore. This was about Ruth, about all the innocent lives the Essencefeaster had taken.

This was about stopping the monster before it could hurt anyone else I loved.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, standing straighter. "I need to do a reading." It was similar to pulling the soul back but it wouldn’t give as much information. I hadn’t liked to do it before because it’s not usually accurate and chaotic.

"Zoey..." Varon began, his tone cautious.

"Not as a Medium," I cut him off. "As a Soulbinder. There might be traces, impressions left behind. Something I can use to track it."

Quilith studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "It's worth trying. But be careful, Zoey. The Essencefeaster's energy is corrosive. Don't let it touch your essence."

I approached Ruth's body, steeling myself against the horror of seeing her this way. Kneeling beside what remained of her torso, I placed my hands just above the gaping wound where her heart should have been.

My magic flowed from my fingertips, golden light illuminating the gruesome scene. I closed my eyes, focusing not on what I could see but on what I could feel. Impressions, memories, the echo of what had happened here.

At first, there was only chaos, fear, pain, and confusion. Ruth's last moments, fragmented and distorted. I pushed deeper, past the surface horror, seeking the thread that would lead me to her killer.

There. A flash of something familiar. A voice I knew well, speaking words I couldn't quite make out. I followed the thread, diving deeper into the memory preserved in the wound.

"Come on, old lady. This doesn't have to hurt."

Ryan's voice. But wrong somehow, distorted, as if something else was speaking through him.

The realization hit me like a physical blow. It wasn't just Ryan's essence I was sensing in the wound. It was the memory of his voice in Ruth's final thoughts. The confirmation of what I'd feared since that day on the porch when my magic had recoiled from him.

My brother was the Essencefeaster.

Not just being used by it.

I pulled back from the reading with a gasp, my magic recoiling instinctively. The golden light winked out, plunging us back into the harsh reality of the crime scene.

"Zoey?" Kenji was at my side instantly, his hand warm on my shoulder. "What did you see?"

I looked up at the three men who had bound themselves to me, feeling their concern and love flowing through our connection. How could I tell them that my own brother was the monster we were hunting? That the person I'd raised, the last blood family I had left, was responsible for this carnage?

"It's Ryan," my voice cracked on his name. "The Essencefeaster is Ryan."