Page 70 of Crossing Between

One week later, I pushed open the door to Ryan's hospital room, balancing a brown paper bag in one hand and a small charm in the other. The antiseptic smell hit me immediately. I'd never get used to that hospital scent, no matter how many times I visited.

"Special delivery," I announced, watching my brother's face light up.

Ryan looked better today. The dark circles under his eyes had faded slightly, and some color had returned to his cheeks. He was propped up against a mountain of pillows, his hospital gown hanging loosely from his shoulders. The monitors beside his bed beeped steadily, reassuringly.

"Please tell me that's not hospital food," he eyed the bag with hopeful suspicion.

"Only the best for my favorite brother." I set the bag on his rolling tray table and pulled out containers of homemade chicken soup and fresh-baked bread from the bakery down the street. "And before you say it, yes, I know you're my only brother."

Ryan's laugh was soft but genuine, a sound I'd feared I might never hear again. "Thanks, Z."

I watched him eat for a moment, marveling at how ordinary this felt after everything we'd been through. A week ago, I'd faced down a demon wearing my brother's skin. Today, I was watching him slurp soup and complain about hospital Jell-O.

"I brought you something else, too." I held out the small charm, a polished stone wrapped in intricate wirework with small blue crystals woven throughout. "Elias made it. It's supposed to help with, well, any lingering effects."

Ryan's expression sobered as he took the charm, turning it over in his hands. "So there's still some of that thing inside me?"

"No. You're clean. We made sure of that. This is just insurance. Like taking vitamins after you've already gotten over a cold."

He nodded, slipping the cord around his neck. The charm settled against his chest, the crystal catching the fluorescent light. For a few minutes, we fell into comfortable silence as he ate and I straightened up his room, arranging the flowers that had been delivered, tossing out old magazines.

"The doctors say I can go home in a few days," Ryan said finally, pushing away the half-eaten soup. "They can't find anything wrong with me, physically at least."

I sat on the edge of his bed, taking his hand in mine. His fingers were cool against my palm. "That's good news."

"Is it?" Ryan's voice had a hollow quality that made my chest tighten. "Z, I remember everything. Every person that thing hurt using my body. Every life it took. Every...Ruth...everything."

"That wasn't you," I insisted, squeezing his hand.

"But it was my hands. My face." His eyes searched mine. "When you found me in that place, when you looked at me, you didn't see a monster. You looked at me like I was still your brother. Even when I was that thing."

The raw pain in his voice cut through me like a physical wound. I moved closer, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, feeling the slight tremble that ran through him.

"You were never the monster, Ryan. Never. You were the boy who protected me when no one else would. The kid who punched Tommy Bergman in the face when he made fun of my glasses in seventh grade even though you were so much smaller."

"I don't know if I can go back to being that person," he whispered into my shoulder. "I don't think I can go home where I did those things to Ruth."

I pulled back, holding his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me.

"You don't have to go back to being anything.

You just have to go forward, one day at a time.

And you won't do it alone. As far as our home, Varon has offered a guest room for you, although Kenji and Elias have also offered their house to you, too. "

Something in my words seemed to reach him. He nodded slightly, then more firmly. "One day at a time. I can try that."

I paused before asking, “Ryan, how did you know that I was a necromancer?” Or at least, thought I was.

Ryan shrugged. “I saw you raise mom. I didn’t understand until later, and then I knew I had to protect you.” His eyes saddened. “It took years after school ended before I found a way to help you, but it turned out that I just invited the wrong thing for help.”

I leaned forward and hugged him. It was all I could do. He’d risked everything to try to help me. Even if it ended badly, I wouldn’t forget how much he loved me.

By the time I left Ryan's room, visiting hours were almost over.

I should have gone home, I'd been given several weeks of leave after the "incident" (the official story involved a domestic terrorist cell and a gas leak, with no mention of soul-eating demons).

Instead, I found myself driving to the police station.

As I walked to the clinic in the department, I could see civilians and officers alike moving between the mattresses, some bearing visible wounds, others suffering from injuries that couldn't be seen but ran just as deep.

I found Elias at the furthest bed, sitting cross-legged on a mat.

His eyes were closed, his breathing deep and rhythmic.

Around him, five people sat in similar positions, their faces relaxed in meditation.

The air around them shimmered slightly, imperceptible to normal human eyes, but to my now enhanced senses, I could see the golden threads of healing energy flowing from Elias to the others.

Not wanting to interrupt, I sat quietly at the edge of the bed, watching him work.

His tentacles were partially manifested, just two of them, extended from his back to gently touch the shoulders of two particularly distressed-looking officers.

I recognized them as part of the team that had been closest to the epicenter when the church collapsed.

Twenty minutes later, Elias opened his eyes, the tentacles dissolving back into his body as he returned to full awareness. The group around him stirred, blinking as if waking from a deep sleep. They thanked him quietly before filing out, each looking noticeably more centered than when I'd arrived.

"You should be resting," Elias smiled when we were alone.

"So should you." I moved closer, sitting beside him on the mat. "How many sessions have you done today?"

"Four." He rolled his shoulders, a slight grimace revealing his exhaustion. "Many of the survivors are having nightmares. The Essencefeaster's influence lingers in their minds, even if the creature itself is gone."

Without being asked, I reached for his hand, channeling a small stream of my own energy into him. I felt him relax as our energies mingled.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much." His fingers tightened on mine. "Though you shouldn't waste your strength on me."

"It's never a waste." I leaned forward, pressing my lips softly against his. "I love you, you know."

Elias froze, his eyes widening in surprise. I couldn't help but laugh at his expression, he looked like I'd slapped him with a fish.

"Why do you look so shocked?" I teased. "Did you think I was just keeping you around for your tentacles?" I winked.

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head with a rueful smile. "I.... I love you too, kaerasta. I just didn't expect..."

"I know." I kissed him again, savoring the way his surprise melted into tenderness. "I should check on the others. Will you be here later?"

"As long as I'm needed," he promised.

I left him preparing for another session, still smiling at the wonderment on his face. My next stop was the training dojo behind the main station building, where I knew Kenji would be working with the newer recruits.

The sound of controlled chaos greeted me as I pushed through the double doors, grunts of exertion, the slap of bodies against mats, Kenji's booming voice calling out corrections.

I leaned against the wall, watching as he demonstrated a takedown move to a group of wide-eyed rookies.

His aura glowed faintly around him, a fiery outline that highlighted his broad shoulders and powerful stance.

I could see so much more magic now that my own was unlocked and controlled.

He spotted me almost immediately, a grin spreading across his face. "Perfect timing! Everyone, this is Zoey, and she' s going to help me demonstrate defensive techniques against a larger opponent."

"I am?" I raised an eyebrow, but I was already kicking off my shoes and stepping onto the mat.

"Consider it a test of your reflexes," he stage-whispered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. To the rookies, he announced, "Zoey may look small, but watch and learn."

Without warning, he lunged at me. I sidestepped smoothly, using his momentum against him to deflect his grab. The rookies broke into appreciative murmurs.

"See?" Kenji addressed them, circling me slowly. "Never telegraph your moves. Keep your opponent guessing."

We danced around each other for a few minutes, exchanging light blows and demonstrating basic defensive maneuvers.

I could tell Kenji was holding back, but so was I, this was supposed to be educational, not a true match.

Still, I couldn't help showing off a little, especially when one of the female rookies cheered after I successfully blocked a complex attack sequence.

"Not bad, Zoe," Kenji praised, his voice pitched for the whole room to hear. "But you're still dropping your left guard."

He moved in close, feinting right before sweeping toward my supposedly vulnerable left side.

I'd been waiting for this, Kenji always used this move when he thought he had the upper hand.

Instead of backing away, I dropped low and swept my leg in a tight arc, catching his ankle and knocking his foot out from under him.

He went down with a surprised grunt, and I pounced immediately, straddling his chest and pinning his wrists above his head.

The rookies erupted into cheers and whistles. Kenji stared up at me, surprise giving way to something much warmer.

"That was definitely cheating," he murmured, low enough that only I could hear.